To Kill A Killer

Chapter 18: Brought To Light

Cross wasn't used to being welcome.

In most universes, he was a stranger or an attacker. In his universe, he'd come home to an empty, cold white house and sighed with relief that his fath – that X!Gaster wasn't there to greet him. And at the castle... well, he lived there, sure, but it was still just a place to stay. A means to an end. It couldn't be anything more than that when they all had something they wanted out of the bargain. It was unstable, tentative, temporary. It could crumble at a moment's notice. Killer's death had proven that. There was no point welcoming anyone home when it wasn't a home in the first place.

So when Blue opened the door for him with a wide smile and a warm "CROSS! COME IN!", it was... unexpected, to say the least.

Cross would have hesitated but didn't get a chance before the bright-eyed skeleton had seized his arm and dragged him inside, chattering excitedly as he guided him towards the kitchen.

"I'M GLAD YOU CAME, I WAS SO EXCITED WHEN DREAM SAID YOU WERE COMING OVER, HE'S TOLD ME SO MUCH ABOUT YOU AND A LOT OF IT IS REALLY NOT WHAT I EXPECTED, WHAT WITH ALL THE MURDER AND STUFF, BUT I'M EAGER TO GET TO KNOW YOU PROPERLY! I WAS THINKING WE COULD COOK TACOS, DREAM SAID THEY'RE YOUR FAVOURITE FOOD AND THEY JUST SO HAPPEN TO BE MY SPECIALTY, MWEHEHEH!"

"Oh, uh –" The burnt, glittery atrocities that he'd found in the fridge flashed through his mind. Fortunately, Blue barrelled on before he had to offer an opinion on the plan.

"DREAM'S ALREADY IN THE KITCHEN, JUST THROUGH HERE – OH, BUT YOU PROBABLY ALREADY KNOW THAT, DON'T YOU? YOUR HOUSE WOULD'VE BEEN THE SAME!"

Tense silence, immaculate discomfort, a single vase of dead flowers left forgotten in the corner, the only spot of colour in a box of cold, sterile white. No, it really wasn't.

"YOU KNOW, IT TOOK A WHILE TO GET USED TO THE WHOLE MULTIVERSE THING. THE IDEA THAT SO MANY REALITIES EXIST ALL AT ONCE... IT'S A BIT OVERWHELMING, ISN'T IT? IT'S VERY COOL ONCE YOU GET USED TO IT, THOUGH – INFINITE POSSIBILITIES! SO MANY AMAZING NEW WORLDS! I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE SOME OF THE STUFF I'VE SEEN. THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE HOME, THOUGH."

They had entered the kitchen by now, and Cross' attention went immediately to Dream, who was sitting at the bench with a furrowed brow, trying to decipher what might have once been a cookbook, before its pages had been encrusted with some glittery, concerningly blue substance.

"Hello, Blue," he said absently. "Hello, Cross –" He paused, blinking up at Cross, then immediately shut the book, his skull flushing yellow as he registered the situation, and that his partner was in his friend's house, in plain sight, with no lies or panic. "Cross! Hi. Hello. Um. Sorry, I didn't realise that you were here."

Cross couldn't help but let out a small laugh. "Hey, Dream –" At his side, Blue shifted slightly, and his spine locked up again. He couldn't let his guard down, not when his position here was still precarious. One wrong move and he'd never be welcomed back. "Uh, yeah. Hi. I'm, uh – I'm here."

"Stars, you're jumpy today," Chara commented in a bored drawl. "Your banana, too. Is it the Blueberry?"

Cross didn't answer, but still, Chara scoffed. "Honestly. You know you could beat him easily, right? Idiot."

Taking a deep breath, Dream shut the book and rose from his seat, turning to smile at Blue. "So! Shall we get started?"

Blue clapped his hands together excitedly, his grin as bright as the snow outside. "YES! OKAY, SO, DREAM, YOU CAN START ON THE SALSA. CROSS, CAN YOU CHOP UP SOME ONIONS? KNIVES ARE OVER THERE, AND THE CHOPPING BOARDS ARE BEHIND THEM."

In the back of his head, Chara groaned. "Chopping vegetables? What are we, twelve? This whole fucking thing is a waste of time."

There were several ways that Cross could have responded, but Blue was right there, watching him with sky-bright eyes, and he couldn't risk anything that might mess this up, so he stayed silent as he set himself up on the bench next to the knife block, trying not to hold the knife like a weapon as he began to chop the onions.