Chapter Text
Killer wasn’t the type of guy to hold a grudge. No, that was more Dust and Axe’s forte—sure, Killer still hated humans after everything that happened, but look at their dumb, stupid faces. They were just asking to get murdered. So, getting launched into the bushes by a baby’s tantrum was nothing but water under the bridge—especially since said baby was responsible for Nightmare being the happiest Killer had ever seen him.
What he did take issue with, however, was just how much of Nightmare’s time Dream monopolized. It was understandable in the beginning. The first thing Nightmare had done once he finished sobbing his eyes out was give Dream a bath.
“I don’t wanna!” They could hear Dream whining from the other side of the door, which had been left cracked open. Dust, Axe, and Killer all stood in the hallway, eavesdropping as they whispered amongst themselves about the new development. They weren’t paying close attention, until they heard Nightmare’s patient response.
“Don’t be like that, Dream. Here, I’ll get in with you, like old times.”
All three of them immediately stopped what they were doing. There was a pause, as the mental image of what those words conjured went through their heads simultaneously. Nightmare always remained proper and chaste around them, making sure to keep all of his bones hidden despite the three’s very unsubtle suggestions about undressing or wearing sluttier outfits. The sound of rustling clothes spurred them into action.
There was a mad scramble for the bathroom door; Killer nimbly vaulted over Dust, only to get smacked down to the carpet by Axe with his stupid long arms. He heard the breath violently leave Axe’s lungs when Dust savagely elbowed him in the ribs, but when Dust attempted to sprint past Killer where he lay, Killer snatched at Dust’s ankle, bringing him crashing down. Dust snarled and kicked at Killer, thrashing against Killer’s iron hold—only for his elbow to accidentally nudge the door open just a hair wider.
Time stopped. They froze where they were, watching the door creak open and waiting for Nightmare to yell at them for making such a ruckus. When no scolding came, almost in unison the three of them craned their necks around the door to peek inside and see what had Nightmare so occupied.
Nightmare was already in the tub with Dream; to their collective dismay, the water was filled to the brim and Nightmare was submerged up to his shoulders, hiding all of the good bones. Still, Killer eagerly drank in the sight of Nightmare’s humerus, his clavicle, his—oooh, just the barest peek of his scapula poking above the water as Nightmare leaned forward. Somehow, Nightmare didn’t notice them; his attention was solely focused on the giggling toddler splashing water in his face.
“Stay still, Dream,” Nightmare said patiently. He reached for Dream with a washcloth in his hand, only for a tentacle to slap his hand away as Dream shrieked with laughter.
“You’re all wet, Nighty!” Dream cackled, slapping at the water to further solidify his accusations. “All wet! Splash! Splash!”
With an exasperated huff, Nightmare turned to his side and grabbed something to hand to Dream. Both Killer and Axe had to hurriedly slap their hands over Dust’s mouth to muffle his outraged gasp at seeing Nightmare hand Dust’s special bathtime rubber ducky over to his brother. Dream gave an excited squeal at the sight of it; he snatched it up, squeezing it and cooing over the duck.
Nightmare quickly took advantage of Dream’s preoccupation to wipe him down, gently scrubbing every inch of him with the washcloth. It quickly became apparent to him that the goop and corruption weren’t going anywhere; he frowned at how Dream’s bones remained blackened, but when Dream started to squirm in discomfort, Nightmare eased up.
“Quack! Quack!” Dream held the duck up in Nightmare’s face, squeezing it rapidly in one tentacle.
“Dream—” Nightmare snorted when the duck tried to ‘kiss’ him, gently batting it away. “Be gentle with Mr. Quacksy.”
Dream pouted. “I am gentle! I am.” Still, he squeezed harder, faster, until—POP!
Axe and Killer again had to silence Dust’s anguished cries at the tragic, violent death of Mr. Quacksy. When Dust finally quieted down, they released him; Dust merely lay there, eyelights trembling as he muttered sadly, “Papy liked that duck…”
In contrast to the adult skeleton laying morosely beneath Axe and Killer, Dream didn’t seem fazed at all by the death. He stared down at the deflated remains of the duck in his tentacle, giggling, until he glanced up and met Nightmare’s eye. His tentacles sagged at the look of disappointment in Nightmare’s expression, and his own face twisted up in anguish. “I’m—I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Nighty, I—I didn’t mean to! It was an accident! Please don’t hate me!”
“Oh, Dream.” Nightmare sighed, scooping Dream up into his arms. “I could never hate you, Dream, never. We’ll get another ducky before Dust even notices. It’ll be okay.”
Silently, Axe and Killer dragged Dust off before Nightmare could notice the three of them hanging out in the doorway ogling him. Dust let them manhandle him, limp in their grasp as he babbled some apology to his imaginary brother for letting their duck die.
“Guys,” Nightmare addressed the three skeletons assembled before him on the couch. He stood in front of them, Dream comfortably nestled in his arms, tentacles sleepily wound around Nightmare’s humerus. “This is my brother, Dream. He’s going to be living with us from now on.”
Silence answered his announcement.
DUCK MURDERER.
Dream’s eyelight flickered over to where Dust and his ghostly brother were glaring at him in unison, but he said nothing when Nightmare showed no indication of being able to hear Papyrus. Instead, Dream just snuggled in deeper into Nightmare’s arms with a little smile.
HE KILLED MY DUCK, SANS. HE KILLED MY DUCK AND HE’S LAUGHING. WHY HAVEN’T YOU KILLED HIM YET? YOU LOVE KILLING CHILDREN, YOU SHOULD BE ALL OVER THIS.
“Shut up, Paps,” Dust muttered with a twitching skull. Nightmare caught the wayward hiss and frowned.
“You okay, Dust?”
Dust looked up, startled, then looked away with an angry blush over his cheekbones. “Y-yeah,” he mumbled. “Sorry.”
“So, this is the little guy in the statue outside, huh?” Axe asked while Dust had a silent argument with Papyrus.
“Yeah. That’s why I was so worried when he disappeared.”
“I’m here now!” Dream said, twisting in Nightmare’s arms to beam up at him. Nightmare gave a tired smile back down at him. “I’ll never leave you again, Nighty! Never ever!”
Killer scratched at his mandible, carefully watching the two siblings interacting. “How’d you even end up as a statue, anyway?” he asked curiously.
Nightmare shook his head. “That’s not something Dream wants to—”
“Villagers attacked Nighty!” Dream chirped, cutting Nightmare off. “Hadta protect Nighty, so I ate an apple and killed everyone! And then—then I woke up! Right, Nighty?”
Three sets of brows rose at Dream’s blasé recounting of his bloody past, even as Nightmare stammered out a “r-right.” Dream giggled, nuzzling deeper into Nightmare’s embrace with a happy sigh, heedless of the black that smeared everywhere his corrupted skull touched.
“Anyway,” Nightmare said once he recovered his composure. “As you can tell, Dream’s been through a lot, so I want you three to make sure to be nice to him, okay? And look out for him if I’m not here.”
The three of them exchanged glances between each other. None of them particularly hated kids, and they were well aware of Axe’s soft spot for kids. Perhaps this would be an easy way to gain points with Nightmare. They shrugged, looking back at Nightmare. “Of course,” Killer said with a casual grin. “Anything for you, Nightlight.”
It was just one kid, after all. How bad could he be?
“OH NO.” Blue looked up from the debris he was shoveling when he felt a shift in the nearby magic, only to groan at the sight of Nightmare, Dream, and the boys stepping through a portal. Off to the side, Stretch stiffened where he sat at his hot-dog cart offering refreshments to the emergency workers. “NIGHTMARE, YOU PROMISED.”
“I know, I know,” Nightmare said, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. “I’m just here to rebalance the world, and then I’ll leave you alone, promise.”
“HMM.” Blue made a disbelieving sound in the back of his throat but didn’t further voice his opinion. His eyelights slid down to the little skeleton at Nightmare’s side, clinging to his brother’s hand, and Blue’s expression naturally softened. “HOW ARE YOU, DREAM?”
Dream tore his gaze away from the scenery around him to look up at Blue. After a moment, his magenta eyelight brightened with recognition. “Blue!” he chirped, a rare smile for someone other than Nightmare on his face.
“YES, THAT’S MY NAME! I’M HAPPY TO SEE YOU AND YOUR BROTHER TOGETHER.”
“Uh huh.” Dream squeezed Nightmare’s hand, beaming up at him when Nightmare smiled down at the little monster. “Nighty was so happy to see me!”
“Actually, Blue,” Nightmare said suddenly, guiding Dream over to where Blue was standing. “Would you mind watching Dream for a few minutes? I need to run an errand while we’re here.”
Before Blue could even say yea or nay, Dream was plastering himself to Nightmare’s leg, tentacles gripping desperately to his trousers as Dream started shrieking bloody murder. “No! Nooo! Don’t leave me, Nighty! No, no, no, please, Nighty!!” All eyes were on the brothers, watching Nightmare slowly die from mortification as Dream had an absolute meltdown in front of everyone. Dream clutched at Nightmare’s pants, wailing to the high heavens and pleading with Nightmare, “I’ll be good, I promise! I’m sorryyyyyy—”
“Dream, I—” Nightmare looked around to see that everyone was staring at them; his skull colored a solid purple, and he reached down to pat Dream on the head. “Dream, please, calm down—Dream! I’m not leaving you here, I just want, um, Uncle Blue to look after you for a few minutes while I go get something.”
“Noooo, no, I don’t wanna go with Blue! I wanna go with you, Nighty!”
“STARS ABOVE,” Blue said in exasperation, watching the spectacle before him. Stretch sat at his hot dog cart, his chin resting on his palm and his brows practically clearing his forehead as he drank in the toddler’s theatrics. Wishing to spare the eardrums of everyone present, Blue marched forward and unceremoniously yanked Dream by the scruff, heedless of the goop that immediately smeared across his gloves. “COME HERE, DREAM. YOU’RE MAKING A SCENE!” Dream screeched in protest, immediately twisting violently in Blue’s grasp as he tried to escape the iron grip of an experienced older brother. His tentacles battered at Blue’s arm, but Blue just gave Dream a shake that had the poor toddler’s bones rattling. “STOP THAT. YOU ARE ACTING LIKE A GIANT BABY.”
That got Dream’s attention. Blue felt the corruption bristle in indignation just before Dream turned to glare up at him with tears still pooling in his socket. “I’m not a baby!”
“Sure are acting like one,” Stretch said dryly. Dream twisted where he hung in Blue’s grip, his magenta eyelight locking onto this new skeleton and narrowing in a suspicious squint. Stretch’s grin froze on his face as he felt a chill go down his spine at the sheer malice in Dream’s glare.
“ANYWAY,” Blue said, oblivious to the off-white pallor creeping over his younger brother’s skull the longer he kept uneasy eye contact with Dream. “SINCE YOU’RE NOT A BABY, YOU CAN HELP ME PICK UP DEBRIS FOR A BIT WHILE NIGHTMARE RUNS HIS ERRAND. UNLESS,” he said slyly when he saw Dream open his mouth to protest. “YOU’RE NOT A BIG BOY LIKE NIGHTMARE?”
Dream stiffened, his previous tantrum forgotten as he geared up for a new one. “I’m a big boy!” he protested hotly. Blue made a skeptical noise, and Dream scowled. “I am!”
“PROVE IT, THEN.” Blue gently lowered Dream back down to the ground, releasing his tattered cape from his grasp despite the dubious expressions on the Murder Trio’s faces. Dream whirled around, glaring up at Blue with a pout, before he stomped over to the pile of debris that Blue had been working on before their arrival. He turned, again, just to make sure that Blue was watching, then picked up a large metal beam with his tentacles. Another peek at a patiently waiting Blue, and then Dream toddled over to the dumpster to drop the metal beam. Blue gave him an approving nod and Dream perked up, eagerly drinking in the unsaid praise despite his earlier saltiness with Blue.
Nightmare blinked, surprised by how quickly Blue had worked Dream down from his tantrum. He stood there awkwardly as Dream happily trotted from pile to pile with Blue, eagerly leaping forward to pick up the largest piece of debris before Blue could get to it. “Um, okay…I’ll be back, Dream.”
“Okay, Nighty!” Dream chirped. “I’m cleaning with Grandpa Blue! Like a big boy!”
The others snickered at Blue’s offended “THAT’S UNCLE BLUE—”, then straightened when they realized Nightmare’s attention was on them. Killer grinned. “What’s up, boss?”
“I told you not to call me that,” Nightmare grumbled. His scowl grew at how Killer’s grin merely widened. “It’s embarrassing—whatever. I need you all to split up and go walk around town.”
Axe cocked his head. “And do what?”
“Nothing. That’s it. Just walk around.”
“Umm…” Axe scratched at the jagged edges of his wound before Dust nudged him. He caught himself, shoving his hand into his pocket with a shaky grin. “Why?”
Nightmare sighed. “Dream threw this world back into imbalance when he came here looking for me; I need to rebalance the equilibrium of emotions, but not to the same degree as last time we came here. So, I don’t need you all killing all the humans you swore you weren’t slaughtering last time.” The three gremlins’ skulls became dotted with nervous sweat as they realized they had been caught. “Just the sight of you should incite enough of a panic to generate the negativity to rebalance the world.”
“I guess we can manage that,” Dust mumbled. “What are you gonna do?”
“I, um. I have an errand to run. G-guardian stuff, you wouldn’t understand.”
HE IS GOING TO GO REPLACE MY DUCKY. AS IF I AM SO STUPID AS TO NOT RECOGNIZE A FAKE DUCKY.
Nightmare’s guilty flush as he answered Dust confirmed Not-Papyrus’s words. Dust watched in amusement as Nightmare stammered some other excuse before hastily retreating through a portal. For such a stalwart, solemn Guardian, Nightmare was so easily flustered. It was cute.
EUGH. I CAN FEEL YOU GETTING ALL GOOPY SMOOPY. STOP IT! IT’S MESSING WITH OUR CODE.
Dust hadn’t ever thought he’d see the day where he found himself all ‘goopy smoopy’ over someone, but there was just something about Nightmare that had his ever-chaotic soul trilling in his chest. Nightmare had appeared in his world out of the blue one day, slaughtered the empty husk that had used to be the human, and overpowered the broken magic that had warped his world.
“I can’t turn back time or use resets,” Nightmare said sadly, watching the last flakes of the human’s ashes crumble into nothing. He turned to regard Dust with solemn eyes. “I’m sorry to say that I can’t save your world. All I can do is promise that your last days will be peaceful.”
At first, Dust was fine with that. The silence after unending chaos and noise was welcome. Then, Not-Papyrus had made his presence loudly known.
AFTER ALL THAT, YOU’RE JUST GOING TO LAY DOWN AND DIE WITH THIS WORLD? WHAT WAS THE POINT OF EVERYTHING?
Egged on by Not-Papyrus’s nagging, Dust finally managed to roll himself off the couch and through a casual breaking of the world’s code further, he fell through the Void and right into a surprised Nightmare’s lap.
“Sup.”
“U-um.” Nightmare struggled to compose himself, despite the skeleton sprawled across his lap lazily grinning up at him. “You’re…why are you here?”
Dust shrugged. “Bored. Got anything to do around here?”
Not-Papyrus’s exasperated voice broke through. EUGHHH IT SMELLS LIKE FLASHBACK IN HERE! CUT IT OUT, SANS!
With an annoyed grunt, Dust tugged his hood over his skull. “Tch.” Whatever. He had work to do—if Nightmare needed him to walk around and look vaguely menacing, then that’s what Dust would do.
After they got back from Blue’s world—and a new Mr. Quacksy mysteriously appeared in the bathroom—everyone resumed their usual daily routine, with the new addition of Dream. At first, Dream was inseparable from Nightmare. Any time Nightmare would even make a movement towards the door, Dream would be at his side, clinging to his leg and looking up at him with teary sockets.
Understandably, the boys gave the brothers space, to allow Dream to settle into his new space and grow comfortable. However they couldn’t help but notice a slightly concerning fact—that whenever one of the boys would approach Nightmare or talk to him, Dream would always be at his side, glaring at them with his tentacles wrapped around whatever bits of Nightmare they could reach.
“I’m starting to think Dream is possessive of Nightmare,” Killer said after the first month of Dream living with them.
Axe looked up from the stove, where he was cooking breakfast—eggs and bacon, to go with the waffles that he had cooking in the waffle irons that Killer had ‘mysteriously’ appropriated from a department store. He frowned. “You don’t think Dream knows…”
“That we wanna pork his brother?” Dust grunted. “Pretty sure he knows. Whenever I sit next to them to watch TV, he like makes a point of climbing into Nightmare’s lap, as if hiding Nightmare’s pelvis is gonna make me wanna ride him any less.”
Killer grinned despite the concerned expressions on the other two’s faces. “Well, then, if the little brat knows, no point in hiding it, am I right? I say full steam ahead.”
“Full steam ahead on what?”
They turned to see Nightmare standing in the doorway to the kitchen, looking mildly impressed that all three of them were up and about before he was—though Nightmare did have the handicap of a fussy toddler weighing him down in the mornings now. Said fussy toddler was currently clinging to Nightmare’s leg, squinting up at them suspiciously as he always did.
“Nightlight!” Killer exclaimed, completely ignoring the question. He glided forward, sliding one arm around Nightmare’s shoulders and sidling up to him despite Nightmare’s blush and Dream bristling at his forwardness. Killer leaned in close, his mouth just inches away from Nightmare’s as he murmured, “Looking well-rested today. You sleep well, moonlight?”
The other two turned their attention from Nightmare’s flustered stammering down to regard Dream. Dream’s eyelight was a mere pinprick of magenta in his skull fixated on Killer, his expression frighteningly blank as he watched Killer flirt with his brother.
One thing was exceptionally clear: to get into Nightmare’s bed, they were going to have to go through Dream.
However, none of the boys quite knew what they were dealing with…not yet.