When the Stars Die

Chapter 7

Dream turned over on the bed for the who-knows-what-number time.

He had barely been able to sleep at all during the night. Even though the occult world where Nightmare had built his castle and base was locked in an eternal nighttime, there was still some form of a day-night cycle. Even if the only difference was the change in lighting. It was a bit warmer during the daytime in this world, though only a tad bit. Dream was kind of surprised there weren't icicles and frost everywhere, that's how cold it was. Especially during the night.

No matter how hard he tried, to just couldn't fall asleep. It might have had something to do with the absurd and unpredictable nature of the positive energy that made his being, but he had doubts about it. Though there had been several nights when he couldn't sleep because of it, or he'd gotten just to the point of falling asleep and was jolted back awake by it. But now there was something else keeping him awake.

"Hey, you gotta settle down, okay?" He whispered to... something. He gave his chest a light poke. "I know you're excited."

He let out a small laugh at the ticklish feeling along his ribs. Even in the coldness of Nightmare's castle and world, there was still that source of warmth. But he had to protect that warmth. If something ever happened to it... he'd never be able to forgive himself.

His head snapped up as there was a knock on the door. He moved from under the heavy covers, shivering as his bare feet touched the floor, and made his way over to the other side of the room. He opened up the door a bit, gritting his teeth as a gust of frigid air blew in from the hallway. Seriously, did Nightmare's castle not have any sort of heater system!?

"You look cold," Cross said.

"No duh," he breathed. "Come in here and warm me up..."

"It would be my pleasure," he chuckled.

Dream stepped out of the way to let Cross inside. As he started walking back to the bed, rubbing his arms to try and warm himself up, the other closed the door. Cross scooped the Guardian of Positive Feelings up in his arms, carrying him in the traditional way a groom would hold his bride. Dream let out a small laugh as he did this, which made him grin down.

"Cross, you don't have to carry me," he said.

"Well of course I don't, but what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't take care of you?" He asked, kissing his forehead.

Cross got onto the bed, leaning back against the pillows. He kept Dream in his lap, resting his head on top. Dream leaned into his touch, closing his eyes and letting out a small hum. Normally he would have said something about keeping his voice down, and maybe not even using the word "boyfriend" at all. They were in Nightmare's castle, after all. And Dream swore that his brother could hear literally everything going on in these walls.

Nightmare didn't know about their relationship. At least, to their knowledge he didn't. It wouldn't have surprised either of them if he somehow found out before they confessed to it. Not like it was hard to figure it out from observations alone, and Nightmare was a very observant person. It had always scared the crap out of them how he could read someone like a book, or manipulate someone into doing anything he wanted, if he really wanted to go that far.

The peace and quiet was nice. It had been quite some time since they had really gotten a moment together, alone. They had stayed in touch over texts and calls, though the phone calls always got interrupted by one of the other inhabitants of the castle. The last time they had been able to spend time alone like this was when the Truce was agreed to. Dream hadn't realized how much he missed those times until now.

But, of course, that peace was interrupted.

"Mommy! Daddy!" A tiny voice squeaked.

A ball of light purple fire shot out of Dream's rib cage, taking with it that strange feeling of warmth. The tiny flame darted around the two of them, settling to nuzzle against Cross's cheek. So much energy was radiating off of the tiny being. But that was exactly what Dream was worried about, other than the poor thing popping out at the worst time or being accidentally hurt.