Prison

The title is pretty self explanatory-

Uh this is 20,343 words to make up for the long wait, sorry :'D

This is inspired off an incredible echotale frans fanfic I read Jdhzhsjsjxhsjsj it's the only frans I ship and it's so perfect

Anyway enjoy pls I spent a lot of time writing this.



He had been in the cafeteria when he first saw him. His head head ducked as he took his seat at the only completely empty table in the room, ignoring all the looks the other inmates gave him.

Placing his tray in front of him, he stared down at the sludgy brown paste that was supposed to be some more 'nutritious' version of mushroom and potato soup. It looked like cat sick.

He prodded at it boredly with a spoon, the orange sleeves of his prison jumpsuit sliding down for the umpteenth time to brush over his palms uncomfortably. Shuddering at the feeling, he pushed them up once more, wondering why no one was saying anything.

Usually the prison cafeteria was so full of noise and chatter, fights, arguments, sex. It all happened during food somehow. Forcing down a spoonful of the gritty soup, he glanced around at the other inmates nervously. Why were they all staring at him? Why were none of them doing anything?

"Hey!"

He blinked, looking to the side as a white haired kid jerked his thumb back, pointing at the seat next to him. "Mate, get here now."

Frowning and raising a brow, he dropped his spoon in the soup. "...Why?"

"Because," he hissed, his messy white locks falling over his scarred eye and hiding it from view momentarily "You're not allowed to sit there."

"...Why?" He repeated once more, feeling an odd pressure build up against his chest, pushing hard on his sternum. It was like he knew somehow that what the kid was saying had meaning. But why?

His question was answered as a pair of hands slammed down on the table opposite him, a dark growl emitting from above him. "I hope you realise that's my seat, peanut."

Going stiff, his pupils slowly inched upwards, resting on the hands of whoever was stood in front of him. They were a skeletons, but black. That immediately threw him off. Skeletons could be black? But then upon closer inspection he realised that it wasn't the bome that was black; something covering the bone was. It was dark and in no way translucent, sliding smoothly down his wrist and to his fingertips. Oddly enough, none of it seemed to actually drip onto the table, staying in place. It had a soft blue sheen to it in the cafeteria lights, the dullest reflection of the person stood above him showing in it.

Forcing himself to look up, he stared determinedly at his provoker, hoping that he'd be able to fend for himself and not take orders from another inmate he didn't even know. What was so important about this seat anyway? Yet upon making eye contact with the person stood over him, all his determination faltered and he froze, mouth open dumbly.

They raised a brow and stared down at him unblinkingly, silently challenging the skeleton. They were covered completely in the same dark slime, their skull, neck, arms and assumedly the rest of their body. It seeped over their right eye, covering it from view completely and leaving only one deeply blue one that scanned his entire body up and down quickly. Their mouth was twisted in a sharp smirk, pointy white canine teeth showing. Their orange jumpsuit was surprisingly...orange, the slime having not soaked into it like he'd assume it would. The sleeves were rolled into cuffs at the bottom, leading his eyes back down to their hands once more.

Now he knew why the whole cafeteria was silent. This was Nightmare; notorious prisoner that had so many rumours flying around about him that he'd almost turned into folk law. Some said he'd escaped from this place six times already only to get caught later. Others told tales of how he'd killed prison guards and inmates before. A few even said he'd supposedly strangled his old cell partner to death one night. No one actually knew why he was here in the first place though. People theorised stuff like murder, robbery, assault, rape. But nothing had ever been confirmed.

Most people bragged about their reasons, and he'd hear countless tales of remorse, regret or glee as inmates whispered to each other about how horrified the man they stabbed had looked, the life draining from their wide brown eyes before they'd fallen limp to the floor. Or how great the rush of adrenaline they'd felt had been as they'd ran from a pack of police, stollen goods and money stashed in their bags and flying everywhere as they fled. Everyone had their own dirty secret. And especially Nightmare. Even himself.

"Did you not hear me, runt?" His voice growled again, fingers curling up slightly on the table and making him panic.

"N-No, I heard you." He said, cursing under his breath for the wavering of his voice and the pathetic stutter. He was better than this! He couldn't just be scared into submission by some guy that thought he ran the place.

"Oh." His brow raised sharper and he leaned forwards a bit, drawing the skeleton's eyes to something dark and twitching on his back. He blinked rapidly, watching as whatever it was detached itself from its mass, snaking it's way towards him and gripping his chin with surprising strength. It was a tentacle. "So it does speak."

Biting back a remark, he tried to keep his gaze as stern as he could when the tentacle jerked his chin up to face the man once more. "Yes, it does."

Grinning widely, Nightmare stared down into his sure, yet trembling mismatched eyes with a sickly amusement. "How wonderful. Does it, want to tell me its name?"

"I'm a he, not an it." He spat, slapping the tentacle away. "And my name is Cross."

A sort of hushed gasp swept across the cafeteria and Cross blinked, knowing in that moment he'd done something wrong. Nightmare stared blankly at the slapped tentacle before his eye slowly slid back to his, a bright slit against his dark complexion. "Dumb move, kid."

The skeleton stood up rather forcefully without even knowing why, his soul thundering in his chest so loud that he was almost certain that everyone watching could hear it. Hear how scared he was. Yet he tried not to let it show, swallowing the hard lump that had built up in his throat and letting it slide down like sandpaper, leaving his throat feeling incredibly raw. "Was it?"

"Aaa- ahaha--" Cross yelped as he felt his shoulders grabbed and he was pulled back, stumbling off of his seat and into someone behind him. "Sorry a-about him, he's always trying to prove himself."

Looking down in surprise he saw the guy from before. The one who'd warned him not to sit there in the first place. "What are you--"

"Shut it." He hissed, voice so sharp that Cross actually listened, mouth snapping shut instantly.

Nightmare stared at the two of them, a low and deep growl forming at the back of his throat. "He's picking the wrong person to fight."

"Well he's realised that now- Haven't you, Cross? Yes yes yes that's wonderful! Now don't mind us, we'll just get back to eating!" His voice was so strained and pitched, talking twice as fast as the usual adult. It was clear he was just as scared of him as everyone else in the cafeteria was.

Cross only struggled a little as he was forced to sit down next to the stranger, his eyes darting to see the sweat on his forehead. Was he scared Nightmare would hurt him?

Said male stared down at them for a good minute, his eye stabbing right through Cross' back and ripping into his soul. Yet he forced himself to stay still, not turning around.

Eventually he turned and sat down, giving a sharp glare to everyone that clearly said, What are you all staring at?" People looked away quickly at that, the dull roar of chatter and cutlery scraping across plates filling the room again.

Letting out a deep, tense sigh, the stranger turned to face him and shook their head wearily. "God another minute and your dust would have been ground in with the crusty stuff lurking on the floor. Oh- I'm your saviour by the way, Chara, nice to meet you."

Cross blinked as he stuck his hand out, staring at it for a moment and thinking to himself before he smiled and held it, shaking firmly. "I'm Cross, and thanks."

——————

It turned out the two of them were cell mates.

Cross sunk down onto one of the scratchy mattresses, eyes closing and breathing still. Life in prison was so different. Everyone had a 'every person for themselves' vibe and one wrong look at someone could end with your body being crunched against the floor by gang members.

People would either slink around alone or gather in mobs, terrorising others and causing more mischief than they were worth. He'd seen groups like that bunched together in the cafeteria and yard, all of them eyeing up possible prey they could torment.

"Hey, Cross?"

"Mh?" He looked up at the dull stone ceiling, his eyes drawn to the one single shining bulb that hung from there. It cast enough light across the room to make it not feel creepy, but not enough to make it feel homey.

Shuffling came to his right and Chara's head swung into vision, blocking his view of the ceiling and replacing it with his grinning face. His white hair tickled the skeleton's nose, making him cringe and push him away before sneezing softly.

"What do you want?"

"Oh, uh I dunno." Chara perched himself on the edge of Cross' bed, humming as he swung his legs back and forth. "I guess it's just been a while since I've had a roommate so I wanna pour my heart out to you, y'know?"

"...No."

"Oh." He sounded almost disappointed but shrugged, slicking his fluffy hair back to no success. "My last cell mate in D'Obevil was really chatty and poured his whole life story out to me, I couldn't stop him if I tried - thought you'd be the same."

Blinking, he glanced at him. "Last cell mate? In D'Obevil-where?"

"Ah- right of course I forgot-" He flashed a charming grin and his hair fell back over his eyes again. "This is my fifth time being in prison."

"What?!" He hissed, suddenly eyeing him with a different perspective. What had this guy done to end up in prison so many times? And so young as well.

"Chill partner, it's not what you think. I'm always here for petty crimes - like shoplifting or uh, hot wiring cars etc. Nothing like murder."

He allowed himself to relax a bit, but still eyed him nervously. "How'd you get out so many times?"

"Oh that's easy." He said breezily, as if Cross had just asked him how he brushed his hair -which it looked like he didn't - "My mum is just super rich. She bails me out every time."

"Wow, lucky you." He frowned. "So what are you in for this time, and how long have you been here for?"

"Got caught nicking candy from a store." He snickered and flopped down on the bed next to Cross, rolling his eyes. "Like c'mon, it was only twelve chocolate bars stuffed in my bag. I've made it out with like thirty before."

"That's not the point."

"Yeah whatever. Anyways, I got shoved in here to live out a three month sentence? That's what I think the judge said, I dunno I wasn't listening. Anyways, it's been three weeks and I'm still waiting on my bail. It'll come soon enough, I hope. Otherwise I'll be forced to live out two more miserable months in this dreary place."

"How horrible." He muttered, not really feeling much sympathy in the slightest. "Let's hope you don't dissolve in those two crushing months."

Chara looked up at him having sensed the sarcasm in his voice. "Well, how long are you in here for?"

"...Seventeen years."

"WhAT?!" He yelled, causing Cross to flinch and people from other cells to lean over and try and see what was happening.

"Shh." He hushed, shoving a hand over his roommate's mouth and muffling him. "I don't want my personal info screamed across the entire prison complex."

Tearing his hand from his mouth, Chara stared at him in shock, eyes wide and surprised. "Seventeen years? What the hell did you do?"

"I'd rather not say." He muttered, casting his gaze down at the floor and pretending to be interested by the cracks littered across it.

"Woah... I'm bunking with a real criminal." Chara breathed, his voice thankfully having lowered to hushed shock. "Seventeen years, that's forever!"

Snorting, he nodded duly. "Yeah, I know."

"Yikes, I almost respect you now."

Oh gee thanks.

"Is that why you stood up against Nightmare? Because you're such a tough criminal?" His eyes were wide and almost hopeful, it was clear what answer he was expecting.

"No. I just didn't know that entire table was reserved for his high up ass." He grumbled, blissfully unaware of the guards marching past their cell with said very skeleton in tow.

"Well it is, pipsqueak."

Cross jolted, whipping round to face none other than the very man he'd just mocked. "I--"

"Oh you're fucked." Chara whispered with a tone of almost glee, snickering.

Nightmare stared at Cross blankly, his expression neutral while his eye gave all the emotions. It made the smaller shudder, a wet trickle of ice dribbling down his spine at a slow and torturous pace.

He swallowed, his throat feeling dry. He didn't trust himself to say anything, his voice surely going to crack or stutter if he did. So he stayed silent, staring back at him with what he hoped was just as much of a blank expression.

"If you've got a problem with it," he started, his voice smooth yet dangerous "come do something about it."

Jerking his head with a smirk, he walked off with the two guards following, his hands cuffed tightly behind his back. Cross had no doubt he could be free of those if he really wanted.

Letting out a breath he didn't even realise he was holding, Cross held a shaky hand up to his chest, finally able to swallow down the hard lump in his throat.

Beside him Chara whistled, eyes still wide and staring at him through tousles of messy white hair. "You're gonna get absolutely wrecked by him tomorrow."

"Not exactly the image I want in my head, but thanks." He said, letting himself relax into the stiff fabric of the mattress and feel the annoying springs dig into his spine.

Chara stifled a giggle next to him and let his head tip back to hit against the cold stone wall. "No offence mate, but I won't be helping your ass out of this situation. I've already done my good deed of the month."

"Isn't it supposed to be one a day?" He said softly, staring up at the brightly shining lightbulb once more and all the little insects that buzzed around it. They were stupid creatures, too dumb to stop themselves from doing the same thing every day. Didn't they learn that they achieved nothing by killing them selves against the light? Surely surviving bugs would go back to their little fly kids and warn them of the flaming light that kills. Or maybe they did and the kids were too stupid to understand or listen.

"Nah, not for me." He sighed, pushing himself off of Cross' bed and wandering over his own, yawning loudly. "I tried once a week, but that landed me in jail."

"Of course it did." He couldn't help the laugh that left him, a smile twitching on his 'lips' as he continued to stare up at the stupid dumb bugs. In a way they reminded him of humans; constantly doing stupid decisions that they knew would end badly. Like Chara and his shoplifting, they never learnt.

——————

Morning came to the sound of prison wardens banging their bats against the bars of their cells, the metallic clang that rang off in response being enough to tear Cross from his slumber.

Rubbing his eyes groggily, he looked around and suppressed a yawn. His skull felt full of cobwebs, functions slow and clumsy. Why couldn't he have just had an extra ten minutes? Or an extra hour, that would be perfect.

But his wish wasn't granted and he groaned, dragging his body off of the bed and sitting up. What was the point in waking them up so early? It's not like they could really do anything in the cold stone fortress; other than eat, hang around, go to the yard or do small jobs. He didn't expect any luxuries because, well, they're in prison for damn good reasons. But maybe something fun to do once in a while?

An animalistic roar of a yawn to his left signified Chara waking up, his already messy white locks sticking up everywhere like a lion's mane. It took everything Cross had to not snort a laugh there and then. Instead he just pointed, a lazy smirk on his face.

"What?" Chara blinked, purple bags hanging under his eyes that stood out greatly in contrast with his pale skin. His eyes darted upwards and he caught a glimpse of his crazy hair with a groan. "Of course."

He snickered and stretched as he watched the boy attack his hair with his fingers, fighting them through the tangled locks until they looked presentable, for a prison anyway.

The two sat in silence for a minute before a guard stopped at their door and filed through a big ring of keys in his hands, humming. Soon enough the barred door opened and the guard stepped in, two pairs of handcuffs in his grip. "C'mon then."

Cross walked over slowly and let himself be cuffed, ignoring Chara's remarks on how they always made them too tight and left bruises on his skin.

Trudging along behind the steady stream of other inmates, Chara and Cross were herded like sheep along with everyone else to the cafeteria for breakfast which would undoubtedly be the same as always. Sloppy porridge (with the additional adding of raisins) or slightly overdone toast with butter.

He stayed close to the white haired boy once they entered, head down and staring at the shuffling feet all around him. He could easily pick out Chara's scuffed dirty trainers that must once have been white but had now turned a dusty grey with brown sunken in patches. His own trainers probably weren't any better.

Joining the queue of hungry inmates, he debated his breakfast choice. Oh what a variety he had to choose from. Toast, or porridge? Whatever would he choose.

"Uh can I have t--" He'd just about settled on having toast before someone slid into the queue before him and said with a voice sickly sweet. "Toast please."

He blinked, looking up to see no other than Nightmare grinning down at him, his mouth wider than a sharks as he took his plate of toast. Shaking his head in confusion and looking back at the server. "Um, toast?"

"Sorry." They coughed, looking around them. "That was the last of the bread, you'll have to have porridge."

Cross opened his mouth to protest before shutting it quickly and shooting a glare at Nightmare. But the skeleton was already sat down at his table, picking off the burnt bits of the toast on his plate. "...Then I'll have porridge, I guess."

"There's no guessing about it." The cook laughed, handing him a bowl of the gloopy oats. "That's the only option you've got."

Cursing under his breath he nodded, walking slowly over to his table and ignoring the sly look Nightmare gave him. Selfish bastard.

He sat down next to Chara who looked at him quizzically upon seeing his bowl of porridge. "I thought you'd decided you wanted toast?"

"Yeah," he grit his teeth and jabbed his spoon down into the food "But I changed my mind."

——————

The day went painfully slowly after that.

Chara was as chatty as ever all day, dragging Cross around the entire complex during their free time and explaining to him where everything was. Of course all he said to him went straight in one 'ear' and out the other, barley taking in any of the information. He was shown the library, the gym, the yard, the job hall and all the places you had to go if you had different jobs etc. It honestly bored him out of his skull but he acted like he was taking it all in.

The boy warned him about each and every gang he had to look out for, describing the small Russian gang, the gardening club gang, and the group everyone called 'The Rusties' for whatever reason. That part he listened to at least, making a mental note to keep track of those groups.

But now here he was, bored out of his mind and picking at the paint on the metal fence that bordered the yard. They got four hours of yard time a day. One hour after breakfast, two after lunch, and one after dinner. Currently they were half an hour into their after-lunch-yard-time and Cross was alone, waiting to Chara who said he'd gone to get something fun that could pass the time.

He stared silently out of the fencing, looking at the grassy plains beyond that stretched out for about half a kilometre before hitting tall and menacing stone walls that circled the entire prison perimeter. They looked twelve ft tall, twisted barbed wire coiling around the top with the sharp metal spikes glinting in the sunlight. The same preventative had been lined around the top of the yard fencing, the coiled wire staring down and mocking them, daring the prisoners to try climb past it.

The few odd wild flowers had grown in the tall un-mown grass. He recognised red poppies, daisies, dandelions, daffodils, iris's and tulips. All of them swayed softly in the breeze, the grass rippling and alive as if a snake was winding its way through the tall blades.

All around him people milled about aimlessly, some huddling in groups and talking, others working out in the outside gym area, others fighting and scrapping over pointless prison things that made Cross glad he stayed away from the rest of the inmates.

He could see Nightmare skulking in the far side of the yard, preoccupied with himself as he stared down at the floor and nudged at it with his foot pointlessly. Even he seemed at as much of a loss as Cross was.

Boredom was setting in slowly like a stone sinking to the bottom of the ocean, his hope for Chara even coming back for him diminishing.

But then he heard a familiar shout and he looked up to see none other than the white haired devil child running towards him with something clutched tightly in his hands.

"...What have you got there?"

He grinned widely and sat down in front of him, legs crossed and his expression smug. He thrust his hands out in front of him and showed Cross what he seemed so excited about, his expression bright.

It was a pack of cards. UNO, to be specific.

"Only the best card game known to man and monster kind." He said smugly, looking like a kid who'd just bragged to his friends that he'd got a kiss from the sweetheart of the class. Not that he knew what that expression looked like, just a thought.

Blinking softly, he stared at it with tired eyes. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to play a few games to pass the time."

"Exactly!" He punched the air in victory and slid the cards from the pack, starting to share till they had seven each.

"Where did you even get these?" Cross scooped up his cards and looked at them, keeping a blank expression as he stared at his mostly useless cards. Why so many blues?

"Guard's office." He puffed his chest out proudly and winked, sending a sly glance back at some of the darkly dressed people that stood still at every corner of the yard and by the entrance. "Don't worry though, I'll slip it back later. Maybe."

"You're a bloody nightmare." He muttered, but placed his first card down nonetheless. A blue seven.

Chara hummed, slapping a blue three down on top of that. Cross put down a blue nine, glad that his blues were being used up already. The boy shifted through his card before groaning and dejectedly reaching to pull a card from the pile, having nothing to place.

Snickering at Chara's grumbles, he placed down a yellow nine, only for Chara to change the colour to red right after. Cross had no reds. "Alright then, it's game on."

A few minutes later and they were both deeply absorbed in the game, much more than they'd expected.

"Draw four." Cross stated blankly, his voice lacking emotion while his face said otherwise. He was trying his hardest not to smile, but knew one cracked as Chara gave a cry of frustration and aggressively pulled four cards from the pile.

Both of them had more than fifteen cards each, Cross having seventeen and Chara having twenty one- now twenty five. The boy wasn't overly happy with the odds right now as previously he'd bragged about how he was the number one UNO player and absolutely no one had any hope of defeating him.

He placed down two yellow fours, his glare icy cold as he watched Cross calmly place down a yellow one in return. "You're cheating."

"How can I cheat at uno?" He snickered, drawing two cards as Chara slapped down the draw two card before sliding his own plus four card into the pile.

"Oh you little shit--" He hissed, placing another plus two in return.

Rifling through his cards Cross grinned upon seeing the black corner of a plus four card, his fingers grasping it.

"Cross don't you dare--"

He pulled it free, resisting the urge to laugh at Chara's panicked expression. The boy shook his head, eyes pleading. "Cross no, we're friends, right?"

He smiled sweetly and flicked the card onto the pile, winning. "Draw ten."

"I hate you!" He yelled, catching the attention of a few prisoners and grumbling as he slowly took up ten new cards. By the expression on his face you'd think it physically hurt him to do such a thing.

Cross leaned back and let a snicker escape, not thinking a dumb card game would actually be so fun. Just thinking about how many riots it would cause if different prison gangs played it made his mind spin with hilarious possibilities. All hell would break loose, all because people are too proud to draw more than one card from the stack.

"Do you want a break?" He suggested, smile like a Cheshire Cat.

"No. I don't need breaks, I need to win." He hissed, slapping down a wildcard. "Change to green."

Shrugging, he placed down a different wildcard, his own one. "Change to red."

"I fucking hate you."

——————

"Cross I honestly don't know if we can truly be friends after that." Chara sighed, staring mournfully at the taller skeleton and shaking his head. "After all, you did betray me."

"I beat you at UNO, Chara."

"Exactly."

"Wow, sore loser much." He rolled his eyes and followed behind the boy as they walked to the cafeteria for dinner.

According to the hushed whispers and discussions he'd heard, their food tonight would be the cook's version of beef stew. They called it the cook's version because apparently prison chefs have some magical power that somehow manages to change a meal you know and love into something completely different while still calling it the same thing.

He hoped whatever they got would be better than lunch. Nothing had really been wrong with it, but it was just so plain and boring that if it was a film, he'd have fallen asleep.

Joining the queue next to his grumpy friend, his eyes swept across the cafeteria and stared at the bowls of suspicious looking stew. It didn't look too bad honestly, and the inmates seemed fine enough eating it.

"Hey it doesn't look too bad." Chara said with deep suspicion, his eyes narrowed and momentarily forgetting that Cross was now, to quote, the worst scum in the world for cheating in UNO.

"Stealing my thoughts exactly." He muttered, noticing that the prisoners seemed relatively satisfied with their meal. "Sounds dumb, but I'm actually excited."

"Not gonna lie, same." He grabbed a tray from the rack along with a spoon and fork, their bowls being served with the stew. Cross followed behind silently, sliding the tray along the outskirt.

Upon finally reaching his turn he was met by a slightly tired looking woman, her hair held back in one of those blue cooking net thingys he couldn't name because he wasn't a chef. She gave a smile and poured a scoop of the stew into a bowl before passing it to him.

He took the bowl and thanked her silently, feeling the scalding broth heat the bowl and pour lovely waves of warmth through his fingertips and making him shiver. He placed it down on his tray and stepped away from the queue, his eyes catching sight of Chara sat down at their unassigned table. Nightmare was sat at his usual as well, eye on Cross instead of his food. But he ignored it.

Stepping towards the boy, he didn't pay any attention to the dark skeleton, not even as he saw him physically turn his whole body around on the seat so that he was no longer even facing his food.

He felt the foot before he saw it, his toes catching on something sticking out on the floor and causing him to stumble. Yelping, he tried to right himself. But alas his attempt failed as something else stuck out and completely swiped his feet out from beneath him, sending his food flying and him crashing to the ground.

He skidded across the floor for a few seconds, feeling himself get covered in stew. The burning liquid soaked into his jumpsuit and made it cling stickily to his bones, incredibly hot. Chunks of the meat fell onto his hands and body, feeling slimy and warm.

Complete silence washed over the cafeteria for a moment and everyone stopped eating, queuing, talking and moving to stare at the skeleton sprawled across the floor with his own food plastered all over him.

And then the room erupted with laughter, everyone pointing and yelling and slipping closer to catch a sight of the humiliated boy.

Cross spat spat out a chunk of beef, his face flushed darkly with both anger and embarrassment. He tried to stand up but only slipped again which as you could guess gained lots more laughter and pointing.

He growled and grabbed onto the nearest seat, using it to pull himself up. He slipped twice, but thankfully didn't fall again. Glaring at Nightmare, the octopus innocently took a sip of his own broth. His expression tried to stay neutral but he could see the smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth.

Sensing the smaller's gaze he slowly turned to face him, any evidence of the smirk gone and instead replaced with irritation and mild confusion. "Got a problem, kid?"

"Yes, actually, I do." He seethed, resisting the urge to punch that look off of his face. "Don't look at me like you didn't see what just happened."

"Oh no, I saw." He shrugged. "You were a clutz and tripped over your own feet and then proceeded to drag your face across the floor and soak it in stew. He reached up, his thumb wiping off a bit under his eye before he popped it in his mouth and licked it off. "Shame, it tastes kinda nice."

"You tripped me!" He cried, clenching his hands into fists. Nightmare leaned back, blinking. "Proof?"

"Proof? Everyone saw it, idiot!"

"Nah, I don't think they did."

Cross glanced around them, his expression only darkening as he saw the other inmates shrug and mutter to each other, shaking their heads. Of course they didn't want to get on Nightmare's bad side.

"Chara you saw it, right?" He stared at his friend, dragging him under the bus in his moment of desperation.

His friend winced and swallowed, hair falling over his eyes as he looked away. "Uh no, sorry Cross. I was eating when it happened..."

"Are you- are you serious?"

The boy didn't answer, staring down at his bowl and stirring it uncomfortably with his spoon.

Looking back at Nightmare he silently cursed the man in every way possible, wishing he'd die in some horrible incident where he drowned in own stew.

"Something wrong, shortie?"

"Yes, something is wrong. And I'm not short, you're not that taller than me!"

Shifting out of his seat Nightmare stood, definitely towering over the smol. "Alright kid, that's enough whining, I'm bored. And no one wants to hear your annoying voice."

"You--" Cross brought a hand around to slap him, only to found it intercepted and crushed in an iron grip.

"Bad move peanut. Bad move."

——————

"Thanks for helping me back there, partner." Cross rubbed his new black eye, and slumped onto the bed, his bones aching and feeling like someone had attacked them with a cheese grater.

"...Yeah, sorry." Chara muttered, sitting on his own bed and staring at his thoroughly beaten up cell mate. "Didn't fancy being beaten to a pulp along with you."

"Of course you didn't." He spat out a fat glob of blood onto the floor, rubbing his sore chin dry from the stringy drool sliding down with his filthy sleeve and staining it with a slick smear of blood.

The boy stared through his white locks at him, running his fingers through them anxiously. "Cross I really am sorry."

"Sure." He eased himself down on the bed, hissing weakly as his cracked and sore bones ached horribly. His skull was pounding, giving the feeling of a bad migraine.

Closing his eyes and trying to find a position that was comfortable, he listened to the sound of prisoners shuffling about in their cells mindlessly. They were always restless after being put in their cells for the night, never really wanting to settle down in a cold stone room with no central heating.

Chara opened his mouth to say something but shut it soon after, deciding that Cross wasn't really in the mood to talk to him. Swinging his legs back and forth off of the bed he sighed, letting his hands fall to his lap with a dull slap. He felt like shit for leaving his friend to get beat to the floor by Nightmare. But of course at the time he hadn't really fancied having the same fate.

"...I'll fight him for you."

Groaning lowly Cross turned his head to look at him, his skull bruised and stained slightly grey from whatever dust lurked about on the cafeteria floor. "Chara, you'll die. Don't be stupid."

"Well what am I supposed to do then? You're in a pissy mood with me and nothing I seem to say will help!"

"Go to sleep, Chara." He muttered, rolling onto his side with a bit of pain and facing the cold stone wall. He could hear a sigh of despair leave his cell mate, but he didn't do anything about it, just wanting to go to sleep.

——————

Chara left the two days later.

They'd been having a dinner of jacket potato and beans, making small talk and Cross starting to lower his grudge on the boy. They'd just made some stupid joke about the bean's shape when three armed guards had marched into the cafeteria and ordered for Chara Penaloza to stand.

The boy had joked about how they'd discovered the bomb he'd planted in the yard (obviously a lie) or maybe they'd changed his sentence to the death penalty. He'd slipped off without even saying goodbye, the impression that he might not be coming back having not reached his mind.

Cross watched him go and walk off with the guards, assuming that if Chara wasn't back in a few minutes, he'd be waiting in the yard or back in their cell.

But now here he was, frowning deeply in concern as they were all marched out of the yard and to their cells. Chara hadn't been out there, the messy white haired boy no where in sight. He hoped he'd be back in their cell, waiting with that stupidly dorky grin that you could imagine parents cooing over.

He broke off from the other prisoners and tried to get to his cell, yet he was blocked. Looking up in confusion, he saw two guards looming over him with blank expressions.

"Um." He slipped to the side awkwardly and tried to pass, only to be stopped as a guard gripped onto his arm tightly.

"You're coming with us."

Cross struggled slightly as he was dragged past the other inmates, all of them looking at the smaller with grins that made him think they'd all planned something. He stumbled as he was dragged past his cell, eyes wide in disbelief as he saw that Chara wasn't there. He wasn't sat down on his bed or even Cross'. The cell was empty.

"Wh- That's my cell, where are you taking me? And where's Chara gone?" Questions tumbled from his mouth and he strained his neck back, as if checking twice would make Chara magically appear.

"Your cell mate is gone. We need the cell for more prisoners."

"Gone? What, how?"

"Rich mum." One growled, their fingers digging roughly into his arm. "As we were warned."

Cross blinked, vaguely remembering how Chara had bragged about having a super rich mum that bailed him out of prison every time without fail. He'd taken in the information at the time, but hadn't expected it to be so soon. And then something else hit him.

"Wait- if you're taking my cell, where am I going?"

They didn't answer, sending him into a brief flash of panic as more and more cells slid past without them stopping to put him in any. What were they going to do to him? Would they transfer him? Surely not. Had he also been bailed? As perfect and incredible that sounded, he severely doubted it. Chara's mum wouldn't pay his extremely large bail fee just because her son made a shady friend.

Being yanked further down the cell blocks, he realised they'd almost reached the end of the corridor, where only one cell stood left. He could make out the figure of someone asleep on the only bed in there, slumped over it and seemingly asleep.

He felt a sort of knot form in his stomach, growing tighter and tighter as he was drawn closer and closer. It felt heavy and clumped, weighing him down and making his steps laboured and uncoordinated. "Y-You're putting me in with someone else?"

"Yes, now shut it." One of the two guards pulled a ring of keys from his belt and stuck it into the lock, twisting with a click. The doors slid back with a muted metal screech, alerting the prisoner sleeping inside and making them twitch.

For a moment Cross and the inmate made eye contact and he froze, instantaneously trying to shake himself free from the guard's grip and and run. "Wait n-no- I cant go here!"

"You don't make the rules, kid." They grunted, planting a hand firmly on his back and shoving him forwards into the cell. He tripped and stumbled, his legs deciding to give up on him and send him crashing to the ground in a painful replay of his cafeteria moment.

He tried to get back to his feet as quick as possible, whipping round to face the guards and gripping onto the bars as they slammed the door shut. "You can't leave m-me in here with him!"

They didn't bother responding, simply giving him a scornful look and turning their backs on him, walking away.

Cross watched hopelessly, body pressed against the bars and knees stinging from when they'd taken the floor. He stared after the guards until they rounded the corridor corner and disappeared from sight, the knot in his stomach expanding and growing larger.

"Well, That was a bit dramatic."

Closing his eyes for a moment he slowly turned to face his new cell mate, helpless anxiety and rage boiling in his blood. He glared at them, taking in the smirking expression and smug posture as they slowly sat up and yawned airily. He didn't want to speak to him.

"Seeing me twelve hours a day wasn't enough, hm? So you asked to be moved here to spend all twenty four hours with me? I must say, I'm flattered."

"It was nothing like that!" He hissed, stepping away from the bars and keeping as much distance between them as possible. "Chara got out on bail, so they took my cell for more prisoners and chucked me in this dump! I'd rather sleep outside than with you!"

He blinked slowly, his one blue eye void of emotion. "I'd sleep outside too. But I'm too much of an escape hazard for that to be allowed."

He scoffed and tried to act confident, but he wrung his hands tightly with anxiety, wondering what Nightmare would do to him now that they were alone in a cell with the nearest guard fifty metres away. It could take a whole thirty seconds for them to walk over if something went wrong. And thirty seconds can ensue a lot of pain.

"You look like a frightened deer." He snickered and pushed himself to his feet, watching as Cross took a nervous step backwards. "Am I the big bad wolf about to eat you up?"

"I wouldn't be surprised." He kept his eyes warily on him and willed for him to just sit back down and sleep, not really feeling in the mood to be beaten into the floor again.

Eyes scanning him up and down, Nightmare grinned. "Nice eye."

Cross groaned weakly and looked away, a hand subconsciously reaching up to trace the black angry bruise surrounding his left eye. It constantly stung when he blinked, but he could forget it for most of the time until someone looked at him strangely or commented and he'd remember.

"Yeah, thanks. I got it fairly recently actually."

"Really? That's cool. I'd ask who gave it to you so I could get one, but..." He trailed off, grin like a shark's. "I feel like he's got better things to do."

"How do you know it's a he?" He relaxed slightly and sunk down to the floor, his knees pressed up to his chest. "Gender assumption."

Nightmare laughed, shaking his head and sitting down as well, much to Cross' relief. "Well there's no way a sissy little girl did that to you."

"Girls aren't weak, you know."

"Oh, smite me for my mislead information." He rolled his eye and interlocked his fingers, holding them behind his head. "Most the girls here act tough, but they're wimps if you so much as threaten them."

"Most people do," He said dryly, staring up at the cracked ceiling "When it's you threatening them, anyway."

"True, true. They'd probably kill you if you tried."

"I don't doubt that." Cross fought the urge to smile softly, actually finding himself enjoying Nightmare's presence. But no, he couldn't do that! He was only a selfish bastard that cares for no one but himself.

"Oh by the way, you're sleeping on the floor. We're not taking turns."

Clearly.

Grumbling under his breath Cross nodded, not at all wanting to start an argument with the taller and much more intimidating adult. He eased his body down onto the cold and stony floor, his aching bones audibly complaining.

Nightmare watched him for a moment before sinking down into his scratchy mattress, the thin blanket laying discarded on the floor. He never used it.

Stretching a foot out Cross tried to get the blanket, missing about three times before his foot successfully connected with the rags and dragged it smoothly over to his side. He grabbed it tightly with his hands and draped it over himself, barely any warmth resulting from it. Nightmare watched in amusement as he tried to curl every inch of his body under the fabric, his eye lazily half-lidded and bleary.

"You going to sleep?"

"Maybe."

"Same..." Cross sighed softly and stared at the octopus, who stared back absentmindedly. They both seemed fixated in each other's eyes, pupils occasionally wandering across their facial features.

He rolled his eye, Cross copying. He then frowned, watching as once again he was copied with a more exaggerated style. Cross snickered a bit at his expression, sticking his tongue out.

Nightmare hummed sleepily in amusement and flicked his tongue out at the boy, liking how he quickly looked away in response and his face significantly darkened. "I win."

"We weren't playing a game." He said weakly, avoiding eye contact and pulling the blanket over his nose so that only his eyes were visible. The blush was still noticeable though.

"Really? I think we were."

"Whatever..." He shoved an arm under his head as an pathetic attempt to make some sort of pillow, his skull already aching with dull pain. It didn't do much difference though, seeing as he was a skeleton and didn't have any skin to cushion it.

There was a pillow on Nightmare's bed, but he was clearly using it. And he didn't think that even a pretty please would convince the octopus to give it up.

Deciding the blanket and floor was the best he'd get, he settled down and tried to make his body as limp as possible, noticing Nightmare do the same. The skeleton had curled up with the pillow wedged under his skull his tentacles draped around him like a cat does with it's tail. It honestly ruined his intimidating and scary ego a bit, but Cross stayed silent about it. Maybe when he had a bit more status and respect for himself he'd tease Nightmare about it. Maybe.

——————

Cross' bones were stiffer than cardboard when he woke up. He opened his eyes and looked around groggily, his mind not processing why the ceiling seemed so much higher up and his bed was harder than he remembered.

Rolling onto his side, each of his bones let out pained groans and pops, his spine feeling like it had been hit inwards with a hammer. His arm was completely numb from where he'd slept on it, trying to move it feeling like dragging a brick across the floor. Pushing himself up was virtually impossible, his arms alight with pins and needles and unable to offer him any strength whatsoever.

With more struggling than he'd have liked he eventually managed to sit up, his other arm providing at least the smallest bit of strength. He scowled down at the floor and rubbed his asleep arm, trying to massage some feeling back into it with minimal success.

A drawn out groan to his right signalled Nightmare's awakening, his limbs stretching out like a cat's and his tentacles slithering away from around him and falling limp behind his back as he sat up, eye glancing around sleepily.

It rested on Cross for a moment, his expression turning to mild confusion as if he'd forgotten that yesterday's events caused Cross to be moved to his cell. Privacy ruined.

"Oh, forgot you were here." He muttered, rubbing his eye with his fist and standing. His back popped as he stretched and he smiled down at him with no nice intent. "How was your sleep?"

"Painful."

"My soul bleeds for you."

"You have one?"

"Ouch." He glanced down at him and scoffed, a tentacle shoving him in the chest none to gently and sending the smaller sprawling onto the floor.

"Hey!" He yelped and tried to push himself back up, his arms once again turning into spaghetti.

"Weak." He leant against the bars boredly, listening to the sound of rising chatter and jingling keys as the guards slowly worked their way down the cells for breakfast, which would be the same as always.

Cross didn't verbally answer, feeling that Nightmare would easily prove his point if he tried to challenge him. Instead he dragged himself up to his feet and gingerly stepped by his side, silent.

A guard locked eyes with him and marched over, their dark hair covering their tanned skin. They said nothing while unlocking the cell door, motioning for Nightmare to come out first and pulling a pair of cuffs from his pocket.

"See? I get special treatment." He said, stepping forwards almost proudly and holding his hands out for the guard. The sudden movement made them flinch and Nightmare laughed, sending Cross a pitying look as they fumbled to clip them on tightly.

"You'd think I'm in here for murdering the Queen of England."

Cross slipped past the guard with only a sharp look shot at him, not needing any handcuffs. "What are you in here for?"

He looked down at him, a smile making it's way across his face. "Well, that'd be telling, wouldn't it?"

"Oh so it's some big secret?" He internally rolled his eyes, speeding up a bit to keep up with Nightmare's pace.

"Yeah. It's my big trick, you know? No one knows why I'm here, so they're left to fantasise their lives away. Some people think I'm the mastermind behind a terrorist group, or I was a billionaire assassin. Heck, I've heard rumours going round that I'm some Pirate Captain that got hold of a cursed treasure so powerful that MI6, the FBI and Special Circumstances had to all join together to take me down. That's my personal favourite."

Cross couldn't stop the laugh that left him, his arms folding over his chest. "And is it any of those by chance?"

He tapped the bridge of his nose, winking. "Secret."

"Ah, of course." He pushed himself up on his toes as he walked, trying to peer over the queue of people, their heads bobbing along as they all shuffled forwards at 0.5 miles per hour.

"Hey, that reminds me; I never asked how long you're in here for."

"Secret." He looked to the side.

"Right now, that's cheating." Nightmare nudged him lightly, his blue eye staring at him intently.

"Only if you tell me how long you're here for."

"Done. That's easy."

"Okay... Seventeen years." He winced, glancing up at the taller nervously.

"Seventeen? I thought you were one of those innocent kids that accidentally drove their car into a lamppost on their first day." He stared, looking the boy up and down. "Respect, pipsqueak."

"My name is Cross, not pipsqueak." He muttered, rubbing his arms loosely. "But anyway, you need to tell me how long you're in here for."

"Oh. Life."

"Life?!" He paused walking for a moment, only to get shoved forwards by a guard behind with a gruff bark to keep moving. "You mean like the typical twenty five years equals life- right?"

"Nah. I mean life, peanut." He shrugged, not seeming too bothered by it.

"Why?"

"Now that, is a secret I'm not telling." He grinned, grabbing a tray as they entered the cafeteria. "I mean I might tell you if you tell me what you did."

"Yeah, not happening." He shook his head and picked up his own tray, shuffling along behind him.

"Exactly."

"We'll just both have to use our imaginations."

"Sure." He nodded, flashing a smile at the food server. "Toast, please."

She nodded and served him, passing a plate with two pieces of slightly burnt toast with a small little pack of butter. He said nothing else and stepped away, walking over to his unassigned private table.

Cross slid into his place, asking for the same and this time receiving his toast instead of being stuck with porridge like the first time. He took it gratefully and turned, looking at where he normally sat.

To his dismay, two bulky figures were already sat where him and Chara normally did, the men already digging into their porridge and glaring at anyone that so much as glanced their way. Obviously these had been the people that had taken over his cell.

He stood helplessly with his tray in his hands, his eyes darting across the cafeteria to search for any empty spots. He saw none. Then his eyes slid to Nightmare's table, which was completely empty except for the octopus.

Oh this is a bad idea.

He slowly walked over, each step getting smaller and smaller, hesitation washing through his body like a river. He stopped once he was opposite the skeleton, not daring to invite himself into sitting down.

Shifting, he cleared his throat. "U-Um, Nightmare?" His voice came out pathetically week and dry, more of a raspy whisper than anything else.

The adult paused and glanced up from his toast, expression irritated. "What?"

Cross quickly lost all his confidence, swallowing the large lump in his throat and raising his voice a little. "Can I, can I um, s-sit here?"

Nightmare stared at him before slowly looking behind him to see his usual spot taken over, the two new inmates actually having also turned to stare at the young skeleton.

He took a bite of his toast and locked eyes with Cross once more, expression blank.

"No."

——————

Cross stood in the yard by himself, staring down at his scuffed shoes and kicking little bits of gravel off of the concrete. He had nothing to do at yard time now that Chara was gone. He just stood aimlessly and picked paint, kicked the ground or fiddled with his fingers till the dragging hours finally ended.

It had only been forty five minutes and he was contemplating how death by slamming head repeatedly into concrete would feel. Better than this? Maybe not. He huffed and stared up at the sky, eyes darting across all the fluffy white clouds that looked far to nice to be floating over a prison full of criminals. A few birds flew across the small patch of blue sky in his vision, tweeting and darting around chasing each other. They could fly in and out of the prison whenever they wanted, tall gates, fortified walls and locks doing nothing to stop them. They could do whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted. A bit unfair if you thought about it.

The thought of having wings sent his soul racing a little, but it soon calmed down as he though about how that could never truly happen. It was a downer, but better to listen to truth instead of fantasising.

He sighed and closed his eyes, letting the diamond shapes of the twisted wire fence dig into his spine uncomfortably. He couldn't be asked to do anything about it and nowhere else would be any comfier. He let his fingers curl round the wire behind him, tugging at it experimentally as if by some miracle, it'd crumble into dust in his hands and leave him and about 2,000 other dangerous criminals to escape out into society. Was that a good idea once he really thought about it? No. Did he still want it to happen anyway? Yes.

The sun's rays were hot on his face, sending warm tingles across his skull and spreading all the way to his fingertips. It was a nice feeling really. That was until it was suddenly cut off by a shadow.

He blinked, opening his eyes to see someone looming over him, a large and hairy arm stretching over his shoulder and hand pressed flatly against the fence behind him.

It was someone he didn't recognise, a human with a rather full body that clearly spent all their yard time working out at the gym. They were male, dark tattoo sleeves rippling up their arms and depicting skulls, flames, flowers, cliché hearts with ex's names cut off. His eyes were dark brown, flicks of hazel splashed across the iris. A thin beard covered the bottom half of their face, its colour brown with light streaks.

Cross shifted uncomfortably and coughed, stepping to the side. "Can I help you?"

The man stepped with him, a sly grin forming on his face that made the boy's 'stomach' drop. "That depends on how willing you are."

He gave a nervous laugh and tried to duck under his arm, only for another hand to grip onto his shoulder tightly and shove him back against the fence. "H-Hey!"

A few people in the yard caught sight of what was happening and stopped to look, Cross catching sight of Nightmare stood by his usual spot by the fence and staring. He caught Cross' gaze and held it, emotionless.

"Don't make this difficult." The man grunted, flecks of spit glistening on his bottom lip and making Cross shrink back and cringe. His shoulder was caught in a vice like grip, any movement making it tighter.

Gasping weakly he shook his head and upon feeling a hand trail down to his hips he yelled, swinging a hand round to connect with the brute's chest as hard as he could.

A startled yelp left them and they looked at him slowly, eyes darkening and going narrow. "So you're making a scene, huh?" The punch had barely done anything. "What a shame."

Cross could do nothing as a large ring covered fist slammed into his stomach, sending him to the floor and doubling over in pain. He bit back a scream, arms wrapped round his chest and breath heaving. He found it impossible to suck air into his 'lungs', the oxygen trapped.

The man above him brought a foot back to hit the fallen boy once more and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly, trembling.

But the feeling of searing pain never came. Instead a yowl came from the man above him and a thud followed, continued by lots more cries and grunts.

Slowly opening his eyes, Cross was surprised to say the least when he saw the man writhing on the floor with Nightmare stood above him, bringing his foot down over and over onto his body with a face completely calm.

He continued until the man was begging for him to stop, whimpers and low groans spilling from his mouth.

Nightmare grunted and looked down at the crumpled figure with a scornful look on his face before crouching down to get to their level. And then with a dangerously smooth tone he said, "No one beats up the runt, but me."

It was quiet, but loud enough for everyone crowding around to hear, his eye sliding up to glare at them challengingly.

"Don't forget that."

Both the man on the floor and a few people in the crowd nodded, all of them shooting looks at Cross before murmuring to friends and walking off slowly, the action over.

Nightmare watched them all go before he turned to face Cross, a grin spread across his face. "I just saved your life, pipsqueak."

He shifted and fell back against the fence, his soul thundering in his chest and lungs fighting to cycle the oxygen through his blood. He could barely manage to choke out the words "thank you", his voice lost in a horse whisper.

The taller grunted and stepped closer, a tentacle wrapping around the boy's wrist and pulling him up to his feet none-to-gently. "What was that, peanut?"

He stumbled backwards a little, his vision spinning slightly and blurred. "I-I, thank y-you." He rasped, throat burning.

Letting go of Cross, he leant back against the fence and stared at the ground, his foot scuffing it. "Just so you know, me saving your ass there just means that I get to do it some other time."

Nodding weakly, he coughed. He had a feeling it would have been something like that. There was also the doubt that whatever beating Nightmare gave him would be any better than the strangers one. But then again that hand on his hip had set of serious alarm bells.

"Besides," he looked over at him and hummed "I can't have you incapacitated and crippled. I need you for something later."

The tone under his voice was different and Cross felt himself grow wary, his tongue feeling like a lump of sand. "A-And what's that...?"

"Secret." He chuckled softly to himself and looked over at the spot where he normally lurked about during yard hours. "But you'll be hearing all about it soon, that I'll promise."

Cross followed his gaze but found nothing, a frown forming on his face as he rubbed small and anxious circles on his aching stomach through the now mud stained jumpsuit. There was an ugly brown mark at the front and probably the back, making it look as if he'd had a comical accident.

He stepped a little closer to Nightmare and focused on where he was staring, his eyes resting on the seemingly completely normal concrete. The taller glanced back at him and snickered, eye glinting playfully. "You seen something?"

"...No." He grimaced at the pain in his chest. "I can't see something... That's the problem."

Snorting, the goopy octopus placed a hand over Cross' eyes momentarily and blinding him. "Don't think too much about it, squirt."

"How long will it take you to learn my actual name?" He muttered and rolled his eyes half heartedly, pushing the hand away from his face weakly.

"What do you mean? I always call you by your name." He gave a lazy smirk, brow raised. "Do I not?"

"Believe it or not, you don't." He said, looking up at him. Nightmare placed a hand on his chin and rubbed it, faking confusion. "Peanut, I think you're trying to confuse me. And I'll be honest, it won't work."

"...I give up, why bother?" He shook his head and sighed, hearing the bell for yard time ending ringing loud and clear.

Taking shaky steps, he slowly made his way across the concrete, Nightmare marching by his side at a rather close proximity. He'd never admit it, but having Nightmare this close to him gave him a sense of security, like nothing bad could happen to him. Well, that is unless the octopus decided that his return beating should be right then at that moment in time.

The other prisoners steered well clear of them, giving wary or pissed looks at Cross as if he'd just snitched on them and brought extra years for their sentence. Nightmare ignored all of them as usual and pushed through to the front where the guards were stood, a tentacle still wrapped around Cross' wrist to drag him along.

"Keep up pumpkin." He called, heading for their cell. You had the option of doing small jobs after lunch yard time till dinner. Both Cross and Chara has been considering one of the small quiet jobs like library assistants, But now the skinny white haired boy was gone and Cross hadn't thought of it since.

"That's a new name." He muttered, his stomach doing somersaults with all the walking and threatening to spill lunches contents all over the floor.

"It is? I could have sworn I'd used that one before."

"I don't know, I've lost count honestly." He mumbled, his eyes wandering as they walked past the central library. You could also go there after lunch yard time to read or do research etc.

He'd assumed that Nightmare would walk right past, yet as they reached the large double door oak carved entrance, he pulled a sharp left turn and walked in, Cross tripping over his own feet and following.

"I feel like reading kid, if you wanna go back to the cell then be my guest. But I don't know if Mr-touchy-feely has any friends that have the same intentions." He waved a hand airily and walked off into the deep labyrinth of bookshelves, the tentacle on his wrist slipping free.

Cross stood still for a second before quickly scampering after him, the suggested threat being enough for him to want to stick by his new 'bodyguard'. He stayed a few metres away from the adult at all times, but still followed closely as he weaved in and out of different shelves. It was a miracle that he hadn't got them lost yet. As far as he was concerned anyway-

They walked for a good five minutes before Nightmare finally came to a stop in a small clearing where five old looking chairs were stood, their fabric actually looking slightly better than any others he'd seen.

"Not many people know- or can find this place, so it's not as wrecked." He answered his thoughts exactly, his blue eye scanning across all the thick leatherback books cracked with age, his fingers trailing down the spines before curling round a particular one and tugging it free.

The book looked thick and heavy, easily over 1,000 pages. Cross tried to look at the title, but couldn't as Nightmare opened it to the first page and sat down comfortably on one of the seats. He didn't say anything after that, already flicking to the next page within a minute.

Glancing around at all the books, Cross wandered over to the nearest shelf and blinked, none of the titles looking appealing - or making any sense for that matter - to him. Grabbing one at random, he heaved a heavy book from its shelf and held it close to his aching chest.

Skirting round Nightmare to a different seat, he took a glance over his shoulder to look at what the octopus was reading. The words were far too small for him to read from his distance, and the pages were bigger than your average book. Sketched pen drawings spiralled from the corners, depictions of what Cross assumed were mystical creatures of some sort.

He stared for a second as Nightmare turned the page before shaking his head and walking to his chosen seat opposite the taller and flopping down on it. A cloud of dust exploded into the air around him and he coughed, fanning the air around him and earning a mildly irritated glance.

"Sorry."

He said nothing, eye flicking back down to the pages and reading.

Cross shifted about until he was comfy, his fingers hooking around the beaten and dusty book cover, his thumb dragging a fine line through the dust and exposing the slightly faded brown beneath. He was sure it would have been rich at the time if its creation, but now years of living here stuffed in a shelf must have drained the life from it.

Upon opening it he looked in the top corner to see the messy scrawl of the author's signature, the writing far too cursive and eccentric for him to be able to read anything other than the swirly "M" at the beginning. And possibly an "e" at the end. But it could have easily been an "a" or an "o".

Turning to the next page, he started to read. The book's writing was small, and some words so long that he had to revert to primary school teachings and follow the letters with his finger pressed against the page and sliding along underneath.

Floccinaucinihilipilification? What did that even mean--?

He barely understood any of what was happening, but tried to read along anyway, feeling like his brain was going to physically start hurting.

Glancing up at Nightmare, he saw that the skeleton was already a good ten+ pages into his book, Cross himself not even half way through the first page. He seemed to be having no trouble reading at all, his expression more relaxed than he thought he'd ever seen before.

Who the hell starts a book with such long and complicated words?

Clearly Mr or Mrs "M-something-something-something-something-something-a-o-or-e". Last name either Phillips, Philomena, Phenomenal or Phosphorus. It was hard to tell, I promise.

Easing himself down more into the chair, Cross tried to keep reading to the best of his ability, every long word flying straight out of his brain and onto the floor. He barely processed any of the damn thing. Reading was hard.

A few minutes passed, and the smaller decided to speak up.

"...Nightmare."

"What?" He gave a quick glance at him, irritated.

"I have a question."

"Hurry then, I'm reading.

"Um, okay. I uh, what does Nud-nudiuster-tian mean?"

"...Excuse me?"

"Never mind." He shook his head quickly and frowned down at the book, cursing all the dumb and long words the stupid author had put in. They probably felt smart at the time, but it was a dumb idea. No one knew what those words meant. No one.

"Two days ago."

"Hm?" He looked up, seeing Nightmare staring at him. He rolled his eye, turning the page. "That's what it means, two days ago."

"O-Oh." He looked down at the sentence where the word was used, blinking. I guess that made sense. "Thanks."

"Whatever."

The two went back to reading, Cross' tongue almost sticking out from concentration like a child's might do when colouring. He was thankful he noticed it before Nightmare, immediately returning the muscle to where it belonged.

"Hey what does tra--"

"Peanut, shush."

——————

The hours went past quicker than expected and soon enough they had to leave, Cross' view of his pages were obscured by a thin dark hand. He jolted and tore his eyes away from the page, looking up to see Nightmare move away and walk back to the bookshelf where he'd got his thick monster. He slipped the book back into his place and glanced back at him. "C'mon, we've gotta go."

"Oh." He looked down at his book and blinked. "Can I fold a page?"

He snorted, shrugging. "I personally despise it when people do that, but they're not my books so, go ahead."

Nodding, Cross looked down at his page and gently folded over the smallest triangle of paper possible, feeling Nightmare's eye burning into him. He gently smoothed it down with his thumb before shutting the book and standing, sliding over to the shelf he'd got it from and sliding it into place with minor difficulty. Those books did pack rather tightly together.

Nightmare stood waiting until Cross skipped to his side before starting to walk, knowing that the smaller would get lost and probably die of dehydration if he tried to get out of the library by himself. Sounds dramatic, but the chances were rather high.

The boy followed close behind him and glanced around at all the tall towering bookshelves in awe, wondering how anyone ever managed to get to the very top shelves. It was a typical bad design he'd always seen in libraries, lots of books but no way to get to over half of them. Some occasionally had those sliding ladders that looked like they'd kill you the moment you stepped foot on one. But it didn't appear that the prison had any of those.

But libraries always had that sort of majestic feel to him, looking so beautiful and holding so much knowledge. If only he knew how to properly process all of it.

"How far did you get into your book?" Cross said, remembering how he'd imprinted the number 117 in his mind for his page number. He was rather proud he got that far (not that he understood a single thing).

"Page 473." He replied, glancing back at him.

"O-Oh, mines nowhere near as impressive as yours." He looked down at the floor. "I only got to page 117."

"You're a slow reader."

"You're a fast reader!"

"Yeah, I've got nothing better to do though, do I? I always go to the library for the three hours we're allowed, unless I can't be asked, then I just sulk in my cell till dinner. But yeah, today I felt a real urge to just do fuck all and read."

Cross gave a weak smile and nodded, his stomach feeling a lot better. In fact, he forgot it had even hurt while he was reading, the only reminder being the twinge he felt when standing up. "I honestly didn't have a clue what I was reading."

"I could tell." He turned another corner and stepped past a pair of girls pouring over some book together, the two whispering excitedly to each other.

"Words are dumb, you know." He huffed, skirting around them as well and catching up to his side. "Why do they feel the need to add in extra long fancy words? They look and sound stupid in my opinion."

"Trust me kid, those are my thoughts exactly. But you begin to learn what they mean after long enough."

Cross looked up at him and frowned. "And how long is long enough?" Nightmare stretched his arms above his skull, head tipped back. "A few good years."

"...Oh." He didn't think he could survive a few good years in prison, let alone read every day in that time. Yet again the thought of his seventeen year sentence loomed over him and he let his gaze fall to the floor, silent.

"You won't have anything better to do, kid."

He didn't answer to that, continuing to walk in silence. What Nightmare said was true, but he hated the thought of it. Even reading would eventually get boring, especially if all the books were as long and complicating as the one he tried to read earlier. But learning new words was probably less boring than sulking in your cell for three hours.

The two left the library and joined the slowly building queues of other inmates shuffling along for dinner, the usual chatter of "what's going to be on the menu tonight?" passing round.

He heard a few suggestions of some kind of pie from at least five different people, but didn't vouch on it too much. You could be expecting pie and end up with soup for all they knew.

After a moment he realised how much quicker the queue for food moved when Nightmare was with him. Most of the prisoners shifted aside for him, stepping back and effectively letting them queue jump.

They slid up to the tray rack x5 faster than usual, Cross grabbing a knife and fork his tray in front of him and waiting for food. Nightmare made it first, expression going grim as he watched some soppy version of a Shepard's pie was slapped onto his plate and passed to him. "...Thanks."

Cross took his lump of pie as well and mumbled a quick thank you, his eyes wandering helplessly over the crowds of people already sat down. That included the two new Spanish looking men that had taken both his cell, and his usual seat.

He stood still for a good minute, his feet shifting underneath him anxiously and rubbing small circles on the floor.

"Squirt!"

He jolted and looked over at Nightmare, seeing him jerk a thumb at the seat next to him. "C'mon, here."

Slightly surprised by his offer, the smaller slowly stepped over to him and frowned, trying to figure out if this was a build up to one of his pranks. "...Are you serious?"

"Yes? Gosh don't just stand there, sit down." He sighed dramatically and grabbed onto his wrist, pulling him rather roughly down onto the seat next to him. Cross yelped and nearly dropped the tray, placing it heavily on the table with a bang that sent jars through his arms.

Nightmare flicked his cheek and snickered before stabbing his fork into his pie and taking a bite. "Tastes like shit."

Gingerly taking a bite, Cross glanced at him. "It's not bad, really."

"Your home meals must have came from the trash, then."

"And yours was from royalty?"

"Perhaps."

The skeleton rolled his eyes and took another bite of his food, revelling in all the free space the table with only two of them gave. It was a weird feeling for sure, but he decided he definitely preferred it to being cramped up next to criminal strangers.

He should have said Nightmare was a stranger too, but for whatever reason the boy didn't feel that way. He felt like he'd learned enough about the octopus to call him a friend. A half-friend maybe. Yeah, sure. Half friend.

"How's your stomach?" Nightmare asked unexpectedly, stirring the mash topping on his pie with his fork and making circle patterns.

Cross swallowed, his gaze down at the table. "It's okay, thanks." For whatever reason he felt his cheeks go slightly hot, the thought that the taller was concerned or worrying about him sending a little flutter in his chest. He didn't know what it was, or why it was there, but he didn't necessarily hate it.

Nightmare looked like he was about to say something else but paused and looked up at something, the words dying on his tongue. Cross blinked and glanced over to where he was looking, noticing the 'Staff Only' door open and someone step out.

They weren't dressed in typical guard uniform, a long yellow tunic smoothed down their body with long sleeves rippled with a brown and green stripe. Gloves covered their hands and black leggings covered the lower half of their  body, snug brown leather boots fitted on their feet. They were a skeleton, with striking golden eyes and a yellow circlet balanced perfectly on his skull, the bones smooth and unblemished.

His gaze swept across the cafeteria before resting on Nightmare's for a moment, his pupils then locking on Cross and narrowing.

"Oh boy." Nightmare muttered beside him, setting his fork down as the stranger started marching over, an odd sort of grace flowing in his movements. "Here we go."

The smaller hesitantly placed his cutlery down as well, staring up at the golden skeleton, too timid to say anything.

"Brother." He spoke, his voice almost as smooth as Nightmare's, yet not as deep. Not even close.

"Dream." He gave him an irritated look, pupil flicking round to see all the cafeteria activity had stopped to watch the two.

Brother? Cross stared at the two, scanning for similarities. He saw none. Absolutely none. Other than the fact that they both had increasingly captivating eyes. Or uh, eye.

"Have I done something wrong?" He asked, a slight smirk playing on his lips and brow raising.

"That depends." He muttered, turning to face Cross. "Who are you." The way he said it wasn't even in a questioning way, more like a statement.

"Wh- m-me? I- I'm, I'm--"

"This is peanut." Nightmare grinned and slung an arm over the shoulder of the skeleton, earning a yelp. "He's my new brilliant cell mate."

The emphasis on the words cell mate made Cross shudder, once again wondering what Nightmare could possibly need him for later.

"Cell mate?" Dream frowned, a flash of something Cross couldn't grasp showing in his eyes. "That's not possible. It's my orders that you never have a cell mate. Not after the last incident."

Last incident?

"Well I didn't ask for him, Dreamy. He was thrown at me by your loyal little workers. Something about not enough space?" He looked at Cross.

"I-I--" Once again he found himself unable to speak other than choke out one word, forcing himself to nod instead.

Dream hissed lowly under his breath and pointed at Nightmare. "I'll be changing that as soon as possible, maybe tomorrow. So don't try any funny shit."

"I wouldn't dream of it~" He drawled, his pupil locking with Cross' for a moment and glinting. Oh he was planning something.

"You better not." He growled, giving one last wary look at the smaller before turning around and marching off, already waving over guards and seething.

Nightmare sat there silently until they were gone and the one remaining guard shouted that dinner was over and it was time to go back to their cells. He stood up abruptly and grabbed onto Cross' wrist, yanking him to his feet as well. "C'mon, we've got to be quick."

"Wh-What? Why?" He stumbled after him, protests ignored as the goopy shoved people out of the way and took him to their cell as quickly as possible. "Nightmare?"

He shushed him, staring down at his handcuffs and watching intently as the guards locked them up for the night. He stayed leant against the wall for a good fifteen minutes before the rotating guard watch moved further down the corridor, his voice still hushed. "This is it, kid."

"What? This is what? And who on Earth was that guy back there? Your brother?"

"He's the guy that runs this place." He muttered, glancing out the cell bars quickly once more before facing him. "And he's figured out I have a cell mate so by tomorrow morning, he'll have you moved first thing."

"Why?" He looked up at him in confusion, soul pounding nervously in his chest.

"Because he knows exactly what I'll do once I get a cell mate." A smile spread across his face slowly and across gulped. "A-And what's that?"

"We're escaping. Tonight."

"Tonight? How?" Cross looked up at him in awe, dropping his voice to a hushed whisper in case any guards walking past could hear them.

"Well," Nightmare grinned coldly, something in his expression changing for a moment "first, I'm going to need a distraction, you."

Before Cross could register the dangerous tone to his voice, Nightmare had slammed his foot right into his stomach. He let out a choked cry, doubling over and falling to his knees in surprise and clutching his chest. He attempted to yell at him to stop, only to feel the sharp kick of his trainer slam into his chest again, making him heave.

The octopus stood back as Cross gagged, on his hands and knees as a sick noise crawled up the back of his throat. He went to kick him again, but the desired effect came suddenly as Cross  retched on the floor in front of him.

"Perfect."

"Wh-What?!" The skeleton hissed, trembling and falling weakly in front of him, a bubbly glob of drool running down his chin before dropping to the floor with a splat. His arms were shaking horribly, face pale for a skeleton's.

Rolling his eye he nodded and roughly pulled him to his feet. "Go call out to our guard that you've been horribly sick, I'll pretend to be asleep and when they come in to clean up or take you to the medics, I'll make my move."

"Y-You asshole..." He hissed dryly, the acidic taste of sick burning his throat and making his eyes water. The smell of the puddle between them stank, it's colour the same puke brown as soup they had every lunch. How fitting.

"I know, now hurry up." He glances out the cell bars and swung onto his bed, going limp within seconds.

Cross glared at him hatefully and clutched his stomach tightly, cursing every profanity he knew at the man in his head. Surprisingly he was quite good at acting, the gentle rise and fall of his chest and tilt of his head making it seem like he was really asleep. He'd even bothered to curl up in his normal position, tentacles curled around him with one draping off of the bed limply, the tip brushing the floor lightly.

Even though he wanted to do no more than shove that smug bastard's face into the pile of sick he'd just made, he forced himself to go along with the plan. He could get revenge later, once they were free.

He stumbled over to the bars and pressed up against them, his voice croaked and raspy as he called out. "H-Hello? Guard?" He coughed, the feeling of sick only rising in his throat and for a terrified moment, he thought he might puke again.

Nothing sounded for a moment before the scuff of boots marching down the corridor. Soon enough a guard came into his vision and they stopped in front of him, expression stony and cold.

"What?" Their voice was gruff and scratchy, their dark eyes scanning the shaking skeleton up and down.

"I-I just threw u-up..." He whispered, trying to make his voice as soft and pained as possible. "I d-don't feel s-so good, I think I need a nurse..."

Stepping to the side a bit to display the lovely puddle of sick in the middle of their cell, he gave a hopefully distressed look to the guard. They stared at it for a moment before their eyes flicked up to look at Nightmare. "What about him?"

"He's a-asleep, don't worry." He said quickly, risking a glance at the man. He was still slumped on the bed, the soft rise and fall of his chest mirroring exactly how he slept normally. Not that he watched him sleeping that is--

"Please?" He whispered meekly, worrying for a moment that the guard wouldn't take his bait. "I-I feel like I might throw up again at any moment..." That bit was true at least.

"God okay, just don't you dare be sick on me." They growled, pulling out a thick ring of keys from their belt.

Cross fought the urge to jump, the smile he desperately wanted to show being hidden behind fake pain as he held his stomach tighter. It didn't truly hurt too much anymore, but Nightmare's kicks had at the time, and now when he breathed he felt a dull pain strike his sternum.

The guard slowly inserted the key into the lock, twisting it and sliding the bars to the side a bit, leaving a gap big enough for Cross to walk out. He smiled weakly in thanks, only to stare in horror as they clipped a pair of handcuffs onto him tightly. That wasn't supposed to happen!

"C'mon then." He grunted, tugging them. "I'll have someone else sent to clean up the sick while we're gone."

Cross stumbled forwards, mind racing. How on Earth was he supposed to escape with handcuffs on?

He could have panicked about his thoughts for at least a minute when a sound rang out from behind them and both him and the guard froze, looking back into the cell to see that the bed where Nightmare had once laid was now empty.

The guard cried out suddenly as something struck him on the back of the head, his body crumpling to the floor in surprise, blood leaking onto the stone.

Cross yelped and looked up just in time to see Nightmare slam the cell door behind him, grinning. There was just one problem; he was outside, and Cross was still stuck in the cell.

"Nightmare? What are you doing?!" He hissed, gripping onto the bars with his cuffed hands.

"Uh escaping? Sorry kid, you'll only slow me down."

"What?! You need to let me out! You said what we're breaking out! That means the both of us!" He cried, trying to wrench the bars back open. But they'd locked automatically.

"Yeah, me and the voices." He laughed and pointed at his skull before leaning a little closer to the panicked skeleton. "But maybe look through his keys to escape, I'm sure it's one of those rusty looking brown ones with serrated teeth."

"N-No- Nightmare wait!" He cried, but the octopus was already gone, dashing down the corridor. "NIGHTMARE!"

His scream was lost in the echo of the hallways, all the other inmates watching with frozen fascination as the inmate attempted his seventh escape. Seven times the charm.

Yelling in frustration he dropped to the floor, tearing the ring of keys from the unconscious guard's grip and sorting through them quickly with trembling hands. One of the rusty looking ones with serrated teeth.

He stared hopelessly down at them, his rage for the smug bitch boiling up and bubbling even more. They were all rusty. And they all had serrated teeth.

"Damn octopus!" He hissed, scrambling to his feet and fumbling with them to try push the first of many keys into the lock. It wouldn't push in, jammed within the first millimetre. The second one was the exactly the same. So was the third, and the fifth, and the sixth, and the seventh, and the eighth, the ninth, the tenth, eleventh, twelfth.

"Come on!" He cried desperately, his fingers trembling more and more with every try until he could barely even line them up with the hole. He could feel tears pricking in the corner of his eye sockets, threatening to spill down his cheeks pathetically.

"Please please please please please!" He yelled, feeling a droplet roll down his cheek mockingly. And then as if summoned by some miracle, he heard a soft click and the twenty-something key slotted perfectly into place, twisting.

Flinging the ring of keys to the ground Cross wrenched the cell door open, gasping and panting as adrenaline started pumping through his body. He'd escaped his cell. Now what? His first and obvious choice was to try find Nightmare. He didn't think he'd manage to escape on his own, especially without a plan.

So he set off in the direction Nightmare had run, the sound of his shoes slapping against the shiny floor never sounding so loud. Lots of inmates were catching wind of what was happening and started cheering and yelling either for him to go faster or run back and save them.

Soul hammering in his chest, Cross skidded round a corner and yelped as he nearly tripped over the limp body of someone. He stumbled to a stop, his eyes wide and panicked as he looked down at the guard. Immediately he knew something was wrong. Their neck was twisted out of shape, forced to the side in an angle that made Cross' own neck sting. But at least he definitely knew Nightmare had gone this way.

He ran on in that direction, a helpful trail of breadcrumbs - or dead and unconscious bodies - leading the way. He hopped over all of them, muttering pointless "sorry"s and "excuse me"s to the groaning and shifting ones.

Upon coming to a hallway he stopped, having three different directions to choose from. And this time, unlike before, there was no trail of bodies for him to follow. He shuddered nervously, forcing his fist into his mouth and biting it nervously - a bad habit he'd somehow caught from Nightmare - and looked around.

Which one should he choose? His sweat felt cold against his back and he shifted, the itchy orange jumpsuit seeming rather clingy and overwhelming all of a sudden. Not wanting to waste time and risk getting caught, Cross turned right and speed walked down it as quickly as he dared, his pupils darting over all the cameras on the walls that were watching his every move, alerting all the guards of where he was and how to get him. Being cautious was no longer his priority.

Breaking out into a run once more, he rounded another corner only to freeze right after. Guards were swarming through the corridors, passing no more than twenty metres in front of him. He froze like a deer caught in headlights, his body going stiff and rigid. If one of them so much as turned their heads to the side, they'd see him.

Quick glances around him made him aware of the supply closet to his left, the door being open ever so slightly. It was a horrible hiding space idea, the oldest one in the book. It would probably- no definitely be the very first place they'd look for him. But despite that knowledge swirling in his brain, Cross lunged for the door and tore it open, stumbling inside and slamming it shut behind him. Yes making a loud noise probably wasn't his smartest move, but any jumbled thought process that he had was shattered suddenly as something cold and strong wrapped around his throat and slammed him into the wall behind.

A choked gasp left him and he struggled, fingers flashing up to claw at whatever had him. His fingers clasped onto a cold, wet surface, the phalanges doing nothing but sinking into them. He thrashed, the feeling being so familiar to him somehow. He'd felt this before.

"Nightm-mare?"

Magically the pressure stopped, a towering figure looking down at him with one piercing blue eye. "Is that you, peanut?"

Coughing and gagging he nodded, gasping down air and keeling over, he let the nickname go this time. His soul was still slamming into his ribcage repeatedly like a bird trying to escape from a cage. He was more than sure that it would leave a bruise if it didn't calm down.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Nightmare hissed, glaring down at him coldly. Cross looked up at him shakily, breathing slowly returning to normal. "Escaping, n-no thanks to you."

"Hey, I left the keys for you. Consider your ass lucky I even knocked the guard out." He growled.

"Lucky? You could have easily just mph--" He found himself cut off as Nightmare pressed a hand firmly against his mouth, muffling him and hissing a quick warning to be quiet.

The sound of clomping boots marched past and both of them stiffened, listening to the voices of guards ordering a full sweep of the area. Escaping would be tricky now.

It was only then that Cross realised how cramped the supply closet was. He hadn't been paying attention before, but now that he did he realised just how close him and Nightmare were. Their legs were tangled together, braced and stiff and pressed tightly against each other. Their chests were brushing and both of Cross' cuffed hands were pressed up against Nightmare's chest without meaning. He could feel his soul beating at a much steadier pace than his, seeming quite relaxed about the whole thing. But then again, this was his seventh escape attempt.

Nightmare stared down at him unblinkingly, his hand still pressed against Cross' mouth to keep him quiet while the other one rested on the wall just by his skull. Despite their rather endangering position, Cross felt his cheeks grow hot. Having Nightmare this close to him set something off in his mind, making him shrink back in embarrassment and look down to hopefully hide his blush.

But he failed miserably as the taller moved the hand from his mouth and traced it across his cheek, blinking. "You're feeling awfully hot, pipsqueak."

His voice was still a hushed whisper, but still managed to send tremors through his body. "I-I--"

"And your soul is beating incredibly fast." The smaller yelped as Nightmare pressed his hand firmly against his chest, feeling Cross' soul panic and try to launch out of his body.

His cheeks were burning and head spinning, mind desperately thinking of something to say before he blurted. "We still need to escape--"

Nightmare blinked and glanced to the side where a small chink of light streamed through the gap in the door where it didn't shut fully before slowly looking back at him. "That's an awful change of subject kid, but one I'll accept for the time being."

"I'm not a kid!" He hissed, letting go of a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding and watching as Nightmare slowly opened the door a tad and peered out. "I'm twenty-one!"

"Exactly, a kid." He hummed, pushing the door wide open once he was satisfied that no one was waiting outside to ambush them. He went to step out, but grunted in surprise as Cross gripped onto his jumpsuit sleeve suddenly and tugged him back. "What?"

"You can't abandon me like earlier, this time you have to let me escape with you!" He said.

He raised a brow. "Or what?"

"O-Or..." He trailed off, realising he had nothing to threaten the octopus with. Absolutely nothing. "I-I--"

"You?" Nightmare grinned, pressing the boy to answer. "C'mon, you've got me curious."

"I-I uh--" He panicked, his mind hitting a blank. What skills did he possess that Nightmare didn't have?

"You've got five seconds, runt." He grunted, glancing back down the corridors both ways.

"I-I'm fast, you w-won't even know I'm there if I follow you!"

"Nah, that's a lot of pressure." He stepped one foot out of the closet, making Cross' mind reel with possible benefits. "I can fight!"

"Not really. I've beat your ass enough times to know that by now. Those guards will crush you." He snorted, glancing at an invisible watch on his wrist. "Oh and would you look at that? Five seconds up."

He moved to slip away and Cross gave a panicked cry, blurting out the first stupid thing that came to his head. "You can use me as a distraction!"

Nightmare paused, slowly looking back at him with an expression that made Cross instantly wish he could take back what he had just said. "Use you as a distraction?"

Swallowing hard, he nodded. "I-I can distract the guards we come across, a-and then you can knock them down."

"And What if we come across a really large group?" Nightmare drawled, a hand cupping his cheek. "Would you sacrifice yourself for me?"

"...Would you?"

Barking a laugh he slapped him on the back lightly, shaking his head. "Well we'll have to see when the time comes, yeah? But for now stop whining and follow me. We're - as in both of us - are getting out of here."

Cross deflated in relief, giving a small meek nod. "Thank you..."

"No problem, now c'mon!"

Cross yelped as Nightmare gripped onto his wrist and tugged him along, setting a quick pace across the corridors and staying close to the walls. He stumbled along behind him, his feet constantly dragging and tripping for whatever reason. He was beginning to come down from his adrenaline high, his body feeling tired and ever so small in the labyrinth of walls.

The two continued in silence for about a minute before Nightmare stopped abruptly with a low chuckle. "Go on then pumpkin, distract them~"

Cross frowned in confusion and leaned to his right to look around Nightmare, a helpless weight building in his stomach as he saw the armed guard stood in the hallway. He stumbled as Nightmare shoved him out unexpectedly, his body freezing in fear as the guard turned slowly to face him.

"Hey you! What are you doing out of your cell?" They marched towards him slowly, completely oblivious to Nightmare who had somehow sunk into the shadows and blended in with them even with the faded orange jumpsuit.

"O-Oh am I not supposed to be out?" He asked innocently, trying to stop his voice from wavering as much as possible. "I just got lost."

He took a few nervous steps forwards, his wide pupils staring level with the guards as they glared at him. "I don't know how to get back to my cell..." He whined, sounding like a right little brat.

"Come with me then." They growled, roughly grabbing him by the arm and tugging him past where Nightmare was hidden and back the way they came.

Cross struggled slightly, a sudden realisation hitting his mind. Nightmare could easily just let the guard take him back to his cell and continue without him. He'd definitely made it clear that he could do exactly that back in the supply closet. Gasping, his breathing became jerky and quick, the thought of having extra time added to his sentence for trying to escape and sending his mind into panic mode. He couldn't bare the thought of having to stay even longer than seventeen years trapped in this hellhole!

Attempting to tug away from the guard, he twisted his arm and tried to make a break for it. But he only found himself slammed against the wall quickly, their forearm being pressed against his throat and making him gag.

"Don't try any funny business with me." They hissed. "Let's just go back to your cell, and you can stay there and be a good little scumbag."

"N-No I--"

"Stop resisting." They growled and Cross gave a whimper of defeat, his struggles lessening as they yanked him down the corridor once more.

But they'd hardly taken three steps before something swung round and slammed into the side of the guard's head, making a sickening crack ring out before they fell to the floor screaming.

Cross looked up in surprise, seeing Nightmare stood over the body with a large red fire extinguisher held in his hands.

"Wow, that worked." He dropped it the the floor with a metallic bang, watching as the cylindrical object rolled down the corridor and bumped into a stop against a wall.

Cross found himself in some dazed sense of shock, unable to look away from the taller skeleton. "Y-You saved me...?"

Blinking, he tore his attention away from the fire extinguisher and looked at him as if he'd just said the most stupid thing ever. "Well duh, I might need you to cause a distraction again." He said, a smirk forming on his face as he grabbed the shocked smaller's wrist once more. "Now let's go."

He went to splutter another response, but froze as suddenly the ear splitting shriek of a siren sounded and the lights around them started flashing.

"Attention, prisoners escaping. Prisoners escaping." An automated voice called, freezing the two of them. On the floor by their feet, the fallen guard spat a laugh, holding a small remote in his hand with an emergency button, their thumb pressed down on it firmly. "Good l-luck escaping now, scum."

"Shit!" Nightmare yelled, breaking out in a sprint and yanking Cross along behind him. "No time for distractions now!"

The younger ran as fast as he could behind him, only just able to catch up. He watched in horror as a line of three guards skidded onto their vision, blocking the hallway and all holding up stun guns.

Nightmare didn't even slow, if anything running faster at the three with Cross yelling in fear behind him. He lunged out of the way of the first bullet, three of his tentacles striking forwards and stabbing right through their chests like they were paper.

The three all let out choked cries and looked down at the tentacles embedded in their stomachs, their eyes flashing briefly with terror before they fell to the floor.

Nightmare grunted and swiped up two of their stun guns with his tentacles, shoving one of them into Cross' trembling hands. "Anyone comes for us, shoot, okay?"

He could only nod, hoping he'd seen. The image of those three guards being slaughtered was imprinted into his mind, his head hurting. It made him question once more what Nightmare had done to end up in prison seeing how carefree he'd been in killing those guards. Didn't they have families waiting for them at home anxiously each day? Families that had been waiting for their partners or parents to come home. Except this time they wouldn't.

Screeching round another corner the two came across a wall of at least seven guards. Nightmare grunted and shot three times, hitting his targets straight in the chest and sending them tumbling to the floor. He shoved the others aside with his tentacles, deciding not to kill them this time.

As they ran past them, Cross fumbled with the gun and shot the first one that got to their feet and watching as they crumpled to the floor pathetically.

"Nearly there pipsqueak!" He yelled, suddenly slamming the two of them against a wall as a volley of bullets flew at them. Cross' shoulder rammed into the wall awkwardly, sending bolts of jarring pain all through his body and a cry to spill from his 'lips'.

Nightmare hissed lowly and fired blindly at their assailants, a grin spreading on his face as he heard the oof of at least one person being hit. "Right peanut, the entrance to the yard is just at the end of that corridor. I need you to focus and shoot your best, okay?"

The skeleton nodded quickly, pushing the aching pain in his shoulder away and staring up at the man. As ludicrous as it sounded, they might actually pull this off.

"Right- go!" He yelled, dragging the smaller out into the open again and firing. Cross did the same, his panicked shots grounding at least four people while Nightmare bulldozed the others out the way.

He could see the entrance to the yard, his soul pounding in his chest as they sprinted for it. A heavy padlock was snapped around it but that didn't stop Nightmare as he rammed his shoulder into it, cracking the lock and sending the door flying open.

"DON'T LET THEM ESCAPE!" A frantic voice yelled, making Cross whip around to see Dream chasing them down with a whole squadron of guards. He couldn't be too sure with that quick glance, but he was sure that the guns in their hands were real.

Nightmare laughed loudly and took the time to flip his brother the middle finger before they entered the yard.

It was dark outside, the sun having just set and leaving the west sky a dark red. Some of the clouds were dyed crimson from it, the others painted a dark grey-blue. The stars were starting to come out, staring down at them like millions of spectators.

The air was cold and crisp and Cross could see every ragged breath he made, soft clouds rising as he panted harshly behind Nightmare. His non-existent lungs were burning with the stress of continuous inhalation and exhalation, fighting to apply the oxygen he desperately needed to suck into his body.

Adrenaline had kicked in again by now and his nerves were on fire, feeling like he was just about able to do anything. But his legs were starting to burn, stumbling every few seconds as he fought to keep up with Nightmare. They were beginning to feel fuzzy, as if they weren't actually his. He knew that could only be a bad thing.

The cold slap of their shoes hitting concrete and the yell of guards and Dream were all he could hear along with the sounds of the night. An owl soared overhead with a hoot, distracting Cross long enough for him to almost fall flat on his face.

"We just need to get to the hole I've dug and we'll be out!" Nightmare yelled, pulling Cross' forwards and aiming for the corner of the yard where Cross had seen him moping around for the past few days.

"You dug through solid concrete?!" He gasped, his voice being snatched away from the wind and he wasn't sure Nightmare even heard him.

"BROTHER STOP!" The yell of Dream cried again. If anything, that made Nightmare run faster, the adrenaline clearly pumping through his body faster than Cross'.

They reached the crudely covered hole within seconds, Nightmare quickly kicking away the disguise and dropping down to wriggle through as quickly as possible. "Hurry!"

Cross fell to his knees and thrust himself through, panicking for a moment as his jumpsuit's fabric caught on the out sticking fence. Thundering feet behind him drew closer and he wriggled desperately, his cuffed hands clawing at the dirt floor desperately and scrabbling for a hold.

The first guard reached him and grabbed his foot, earning a scream as Cross kicked out wildly, trying to escape. "NIGHTMARE!"

The octopus whipped around and realised Cross' situation. For a moment he paused and considered escaping without him, it would be a lot easier after all. He wouldn't have to worry about dragging him around after him, and he could escape without needing to constantly check behind him for the small adult. Being free would be so much simpler. But then something tugged at him and he yelled in frustration and ran back to the struggling smol. He grabbed onto his wrists and tugged him through the hole, the guard's grip only managing to pull his shoe off.

Cross gripped onto him tightly and gasped, the fence having torn some of his jumpsuit and leaving deep bloody scratches across his side. But he tripped after Nightmare, the sound of gunshots ringing in his ears behind him.

The octopus tightened his grip and pulled the smaller close to his chest, earning a confused yelp from him before Nightmare did something he hadn't expected.

He teleported.

They appeared suddenly a good while away from the yard, Cross looking around to find himself still outside but next to a fleet of parked up police vehicles. Motorbikes to be precise.

"Come here." Nightmare grunted, quickly grabbing onto the smaller's wrists and snapping the chain holding them together, the same having been done to his own ones. "You'll die with your hands like that."

Cross looked down at the loosely hanging chains in shock, blinking. How had he?

"You coming or not bonehead? My brother isn't just going to give up and let us ride off into the sunset together." He mounted a bike, jerking his head for Cross to get on behind.

In the distance he could already hear the faded yells of orders, Dream clearly having figured out where Nightmare was planning on getting his escape ride.

Unsure of his own footing, Cross scrambled onto the bike behind him, attempting to keep as much room as possible between them and only lightly gripping onto his shoulders.

"You're gonna fall off like that, kid."

"Just go!" He yelled, glancing nervously behind them to see if the guards were any closer. He couldn't see them yet, but he could certainly hear their panicked voices. They were barely coherent over the screams of the prison alarm.

"Alright then!" The motorbike roared into life and Cross screamed as it jerked forwards, nearly tumbling off the back of it. He flailed madly for a moment before yanking on Nightmare's clothes and pulling himself back up. He flung his arms around the taller's waist and pressed his chest against his back, getting as close to him as possible and digging his face into his shoulder.

Nightmare laughed loudly and slowed for a second to make sure the smaller was actually fixed on this time before he twisted the throttle and they went flying down the road towards the prison exit. The gates were wide open for whatever reason, practically welcoming them to freedom.

They zoomed towards it quickly, Nightmare seeming to be having the time of his life while Cross was praying in every language he knew (three) that he wouldn't be thrown off and scraped along the ground until he was a bloody, unrecognisable mess.

Behind them the police had just reached the other motorbikes, all of them hopping on quickly and speeding after the two escapees as fast as possible.

Trees and buildings whipped past as they skidded into the street, cars and other bikes cruising past them with little kids face's pressed grossly up against the windows as they gawked and pointed at the escaping prisoners.

Nightmare ignored them and coaxed the bike faster, weaving in and out of cars as he heard the all to familiar and now boring wail of police sirens. This was now a chase.

"Hey pipsqueak! I have a confession!" He yelled above the roaring wind.

"And what's that?!" He clung tighter to the skeleton, his eyes wide with terror as he watched all the different vehicles zip past barely centimetres away from them.

"I've never ridden a motorcycle before!"

"You wHAT?!"

"HOLD ON!"

Cross shrieked as the bike dipped in a sharp turn, the ground rushing past so close that he could reach out and touch it. That is if he dared loosen his hands from their death hold on Nightmare's waist - which he didn't.

They swerved dangerously down a road, pedestrians leaping out of the way as they thundered over crosswalks with what seemed to be an entire fleet of police after them. Car horns and people's screams were starting to join in with the overbearing sirens and police shouts.

In front of him Nightmare gave a whoop and risked taking his eye off the road for three seconds to glance back at the incoming police vehicles, his grin only widening as he caught sight of his furious brother. Good luck catching me this time Dreamy.

"Peanut I need your help!" He yelled over the rushing wind, dipping the two of them into another soul stopping turn. "I've been stuck in that hell for years, I don't know my way round like you!"

Cross could barely hear him but he internally groaned, knowing that was his way of asking for directions. But navigating meant that he'd have to move his face from the warm safety of Nightmare's shoulder and face the horror ahead of them straight on.

Interlocking his fingers tightly around his waist, he slowly pushed his head up to look around. The wind tore at his face immediately, rushing through his skull and making his eyes water. The constant force made it rather hard to breathe and he wheezed, desperately sucking in air. Now he knew why you needed helmets.

Glancing frantically around them, he tried to recognise any roads or shops or houses. But they all flew past so quickly that he could barely tell the difference between any of them.

His eyes swept across the roads and he bit his 'lip' tightly, fixating on the small lightly peach coloured shop. The florists. "TURN LEFT!"

Nightmare twisted the bars sharply, only the sound of him whooping and Cross screaming behind heard for a few good seconds as the bikes bar nearly skimmed the floor.

He looked ahead of them and panicked, watching as a queue of cars came into view, all of them trying to skim past the tall traffic light as the colour turned from green to amber.

Nightmare took one look and accelerated, ignoring Cross' panicked screams about how he'd get them killed. From behind he could hear police frantically yelling. Did they really think he wouldn't go through a red light?

Just as it turned crimson, they hit the road. Cars screeched and swerved to avoid them, crashing into others and sending them spinning. Glancing behind them, Nightmare laughed at the commotion they'd caused; a complete road block.

"Which way now squirt?"

"My name is Cross! And rIGHT--"

The bike screamed round a corner and narrowly chipped a large van, Cross resulting to shoving his face deeply into his cell mate's shoulder. Nightmare could navigate for himself now.

The skeleton looked down at the smaller momentarily, but didn't say anything, continuing onwards and choosing random alleyways to weave in and out of. They rode for at least an hour before Cross sensed the bike come to a stop.

He looked up tiredly in confusion, finding himself sliding off the bike as Nightmare detached his fingers from around his waist. "Wh- why have we stopped?"

He grinned and looked around quickly, pressing a finger to his 'lips'. "Shh pumpkin, I don't hear sirens yet, but I don't wanna have them any closer. You wait here and guard the bike."

"And where are you going?" He hissed softly, his legs feeling like jelly as he tried to stand.

"Where do you think." He grinned and pointed behind him, where the bright LED lit up sign labelled "TWENTY FOUR HOUR MALL".

"I'll get us some new clothes because let's be honest, we both stick out like two flamingos in a heard of zebras in these bloody orange jumpsuits."

Cross looked down at himself and realised he was right, shivering. They were quite obvious like this. "Won't they recognise you though?"

"Maybe." He shrugged, walking up the steps. "But they won't be able to tell anyone about seeing me, you know what I mean?"

"Unfortunately, yes..." He muttered, sinking down onto one of the steps and pulling his legs up close to his chest as the automatic doors spread open for Nightmare and he stepped in.

Outside and left alone, he felt a lot less safe. Having Nightmare constantly by his side for the past few hours had felt like a safety net for him, one to catch him if he tripped, stumbled or fell. But now that net was gone, and he was left balancing on a high wire all by himself (Not literally).

For the first time since leaving the prison he realised how cold it was. It was a December night and the air was so crisp that he could have probably reached out and snapped some of it if he was a fantasy character in a book. He hadn't truly realised at first because his body had been so full of adrenaline in the chase that his body didn't have time to think about how cold it was. Same for the bike chase. He had much more pressing matters on his mind, such as I wonder how many pieces my body will break into if I go flying into that van.

His body rolled with shivers and he huffed, shoving his hands under his armpits and shuffling closer to the bike to soak up the last of the engines heat as it cooled down. He had no idea how long Nightmare would take in there, getting clothes, but he knew he couldn't just abandon him because he didn't have the bike. Surely he'd need that if they wanted to escape long and far away from this city and its persistent police.

Rocking on his feet a bit he closed his eyes and listened out for any faint wails of sirens, and yell of ordering voices, any gunshot. He heard none. Just the gentle stream of traffic and low chatter of the occasional people that walked past with hot coca in their gloved hands.

It took half an hour for Nightmare to get everything he wanted. He walked down the steps smugly with a large plastic bag stuffed full of clothes, bits of fabric poking out from the handholds.

Cross was half asleep at the time and he nudged him, slowly awaking the frozen smaller and tugging him to his feet.

"C'mon, over here." He muttered, dragging him into a dark and unlit alleyway before dropping the bag on the floor. "I didn't know what you wanted, so I just grabbed a variety."

Cross watched silently as Nightmare wrestled his way out of the top half of his jumpsuit, exposing his black goop covered ribs to the world and making the skeleton's face go hot. He looked away as soon as Nightmare noticed, but couldn't help glancing as the taller slowly slid into a cozy looking grey sweater that covered his neck and ran all the way down to his wrists perfectly.

"Are you just gonna watch my like a pervert, or actually get dressed? Because I'll tell you now, the perv thing is my job, not yours." He raised a brow and kicked off the rest of the orange uniform, sliding on a pair of black shorts instead.

"O-Oh! Right, sorry." He mentally slapped himself and looked down at the bag, pulling out a sweater similar to the one Nightmare had, but smaller and black.

Pulling off the top of his jumpsuit, he shuddered as the full force of the night air hit him. It was freezing, tearing a gasp from his lips and making him wriggle into the fluffy sweater as quick as he could. It was smooth and slightly warm, reducing the shivers a little and allowing him to relax. "Oh god that feels nice..."

After being in the scratchy prison uniform for so long, having fresh new clothes was like bliss. He tore off the rest of his orange jumpsuit and grabbed onto a pair of black shorts, pulling them up and hissing in embarrassment as Nightmare stared shamelessly.

Once they were both done, being cold was no longer an issue. Nightmare had a black hoodie pulled over his sweater, a pair of fingerless gloves covering most of his dark hands and his hood covering the back of his skull. From behind he shouldn't be recognisable, unless you looked down at his black legs that is.

Cross himself had wrapped up fully. He had a loose white top pulled over the sweater, gloves covering his hands and a plush black and white scarf wrapped several times around his neck. Nightmare had also shoved a black beanie hat on the smol's head, snickering about how he'd accidentally given him two colours across his whole clothes. The only noticeable difference from black and white was his red pupil, scar and painfully obvious purple blush that wouldn't go away.

They both kicked their orange uniform into the nearest bin before going back to the bike, Nightmare mockingly holding out a hand for Cross and helping him on. "I hope you have a pleasant ride aboard my luxury bike. I suggest you hold on tight as not to fall off and please, keep the screaming down to a minimum."

He rolled his eyes and snorted but took the hand anyway, sliding on the back of the bike and gripping onto Nightmare tightly with his face back in his shoulder. "Just don't get us killed."

The octopus laughed loudly, giving the engine a rev as the sound of distant sirens became coherent. "Next stop, who knows?!"

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Yea so I'm definitely making a part two--

Lmao I wrote this in the complete wrong order with like the first 2,000 words, then the 5,000 word long escape scene and then the rest of the book Jshzhsjjsjs

I thought I'd finish this much easier sorrrrryyyy

Um hope you enjoyed, I mean I personally enjoyed writing it a lot uwuwuwuwuwuwu

Long oneshot cuz w h y n o t

Um y e a lost inspiration half way through for a good 6,000 words but then I caught up so yaaayyyy

:3

-Jess-

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