"What the hell are you doing in here?" Nightmare growled at the sight of his cousin rummaging through his desk drawers without his permission. It made him want to crack his skull open and leave him dead to rot in the forest – his whole existence made him feel that way.

"I'm just checking out what you have in here," Swad answered with a smug grin on his teeth. That's when Nightmare noticed the picture he was holding. He immediately rushed over and yanked it to himself, letting his whip crack against the skull of his cousin, who froze for a few seconds, surprised by this reaction.

"You really shouldn't be in here," Nightmare warned him, hiding the picture behind his back. He didn't like the idea of it being exposed to others, too bad that Swad already knew who the skeleton in it was.

"I didn't know you had a picture of him!" Swad exclaimed, grinned slyly. He got up and stepped closer to Nightmare, who in response stepped back. "Let me see! How's he even doing?" He tried to reach behind Nightmare's back, but was yet unsuccessful.

"I don't believe that that's any of your business," the Ringmaster snapped coldly. "Get out of my tent before I snap your neck," he warned, but warning went to deaf ears.

"No, no! I want to know how my favourite nephew is doing! Especially now that his mother is no longer here." Nightmare froze, snapping his full attention to the bastard in front of him. Swad grinned widely at the reaction he had gotten out of him.

"Excuse me?" the darker skeleton spat out, the words spilling from his tongue like venom.

"I mean, he's Dream's child, isn't he?" Swad tilted his skull, wording the question as if he didn't already know, but sadistic grin on his teeth told more than a thousand words could: he knew exactly what he was doing and what buttons he was pushing.

"He is my son and his existence never had anything to do with Dream!" Nightmare exclaimed. His anger was spilling through as he glared at the man in front of him. If looks could kill, Swad would be deeper than six feet under, and in more pieces than any monster could ever count. He would be unrecognisable.

"Hmh," Swad hummed, thinking, and continued before Nightmare could unleash his full rage, "That's strange. I never saw you around him. It was always Dream. If he 'accidentally' tripped, Dream was there, you were nowhere to be seen," he spoke thoughtfully.

The gloved hand slapped across his face faster than he could even realise it was coming. Swad stumbled back, not even bothering to pretend that he was surprised.

"You tripped my son?" Nightmare growled, venomously, voice full of pure hate and disgust. His tentacles were lashing uncontrollably behind him, ready to strangle the waste of a monster being in front of him.

"That was years ago already. The past is in the past now," Swad hummed, shrugging as if it didn't matter. "And as I said: Dream was there to take care of him," he added, grinning.

This time he was prepared for the hit when it came, but didn't have the time to dodge out of the way. Instead he just stood there with a sadistic grin on his teeth, ignoring the pain on his skull.

"I took care of him alone for the first seven years of his life! Dream just pushed into his life after Mother's death. Don't try to tell me that I'm a worse parent than Dream, who doesn't even have children!" Nightmare snapped, glaring daggers his way.

"How do you know that he doesn't have children?" Swad asked, tipping his skull. This time he seemed to be actually asking a question that he didn't have the answer to.

"He definitely would have mentioned if he had," Nightmare scoffed. "Don't try to change the subject," he warned.

"Oh, I'm not trying to do that! Our dear brother was the subject, wasn't he?" Swad pointed out before making a sudden reach towards Nightmare, getting a chance to grab the picture before the older could react.

"He was never your brother. Stop acting like we're brothers," the Ringmaster snapped, now very pissed. He tried to get the picture back to himself, but Swad was now actually focusing on dodging him.

"I didn't think that you actually cared about him enough to keep a picture of him in your drawer," Swad hummed thoughtfully, ignoring Nightmare's attempts to get the picture back.

"Nothing about him is your business!" Nightmare reminded, pulling out his whip. "It is definitely not necessary for you to even bring him up," he added before skillfully cracking the whip at Swad's skull through all his dodging attempts.

Nightmare was quick to catch the fallen picture that he hid in his pocket. "Get out of my tent, and it would be a smart idea to get out of my circus," he growled, tone leaking venom. His hatred was clear, but it didn't bother the other.

"I kinda like your hospitality, so of course we're not going to leave yet! Maybe another day you can tell me more about him," Swad suggested with a grin on his teeth as he walked out of the tent, not giving Nightmare a chance to yell at him again.

Nightmare cursed under his breath and shoved the picture back to the drawer where it was hidden away from the eyes of his performers. As he was about to close the drawer, he gave one last look at the picture before hiding it away as it was supposed to be.

-----

     Lust walked through an overgrown path in the woods surrounding the circus. His arms were full of different flowers that Fresh had brought from the farm this morning.

The circus was still visible behind the trees, of course it was, they weren't allowed to go anywhere where it couldn't be seen from. In the horizon before him stood an old church. In front of the church laid the graveyard.

Lust spared the church a glance. It was a Catholic Christian Church that had been originally build somewhere during the middle ages and fixed as time had taken it's toll on it. It still looked stunning, despite the latest fix having been probably in the early 1900s.

He had never been a fan of religions himself, especially not after getting into prostitution at a very young age, but as a child he had been dragged to the church in their town a few times. There the church had been a Lutheran Christian church, which diversed from the Catholic church in many ways, including in architecture. It was way more decorative, thought the inside was pretty much emptied out from all expensive decorations as they had most likely been stolen.

The building looked almost abandoned, yet it was not. Inside remained an old priest and some nuns. Apparently the priest was an old friend of the Ringmaster's mother, the previous Ringmaster of the circus. Lust had seen them a few times when visiting the graveyard. They were all really friendly and caring, even took care of the circus' graveyard. Once he had even gone into the church to help out with something. The priest had offered him religious help with his sins, but he had refused. Surprisingly the priest had understood and just smiled at him, telling that he would continue to pray for all the performers. Lust had just nodded. It hadn't meant anything for him, but he wasn't one to shame others for their religious beliefs.

Lust snapped his attention away from the church and walked to the first grave. He smiled at the beautiful lantern that had been left there. The flame of the candle danced in the safety of the glass surrounding it, casting shadows on the surfaces nearby.

The designer took a flower and placed it on the ground in front of the grave. He stared at the gravestone for a few seconds before getting up and making his way to the next one.

-----

     Lust walked through the entire graveyard, stopping on every grave to leave a flower in the memory of those who were no longer with them. On some graves he stayed longer than on others, all names he didn't even recognise, yet he stopped for everyone.

It was one way to get his attention off of the horrible reality. Of course it wasn't anything happy or exciting, just a peaceful visit to his old friends.

He placed one last flower down and stood up. His white shorts were partly covered in soil, but it didn't bother him. One wash and they would be back to normal.

He turned around to leave, but in corner of his eye socket he saw movement by the church. He turned around to see one of the nuns in the window, waving to him. He smiled and waved back before turning around and heading back towards the overgrown path that led to the circus.

-----

     Cross lit the match and threw it into the old furnace in the prop tent. The way the flame lit up the whole tent with light made his spine shiver. The machine was as old as time – at least according to Blue – and it didn't seem safe. But apparently it was the only one Blue and Ink had, therefore it was what they had to use.

"Is it actually safe to use?" he asked, glancing at Ink. The artist just shrugged. It didn't make Cross feel any safer.

"It's been perfectly fine from what I've been using it. I'm sure it's at least somewhat safe," he answered, turning to put whatever he had made inside the monstrosity. "And it warms up the tent during winter," he added.

"Yeah, by burning it down," Cross huffed, taking a step further from the furnace. Ink snorted at his comment, taking it as a joke. He didn't seem concerned at all.

"Cross," Blue called out from the other side of the tent, gesturing for the monochrome skeleton to come over. Cross cut the distance between them and turned his attention to the monochrome knife belt that Blue was holding. "You'll be needing these this weekend," the mechanic told, handing the knife belt over.

"Oh! It they all look very beautiful! Thank you!" Cross exclaimed while starting, amazed, at the props in his hands. Of course he would have preferred his own summonable knives, but that most likely wouldn't be possible in the shows, but the new knives would do alright as a substitute for them.

"If you lose or break them, just come stop by and we'll make you new ones," Blue hummed, smiling. "Or if you just want new ones for no better reason. We don't mind making them, it's our job after all," he continued, laughing softly.

"I'll keep that in mind," Cross nodded. His attention was slowly shifting back to the furnace on the other side, where Ink was currently working. He didn't feel very safe staying in the same tent as it was.

"You can go if you want to. I won't keep you any longer," Blue said, noticing where he was looking. He seemed a bit uneasy too.

"Alright, I'll see you later," Cross hummed before walking out of the tent as quickly as he dared, avoiding to look as if he was running away.

Words: 1905

[30.5.2023]

I'll just say that there's one pretty important Chekhov's gun in this chapter. I won't say what it is, just that it is there.

Half of this chapter was written at a mental hospital and other half while sitting in Overwatch queue. We had a geography lesson at the local mental hospital where we learnt about the places history, that's why I was there. It was quite interesting.

The church doesn't really have an explanation. I just felt like adding it. I'm an atheist myself, and definitely not a fan of any religions. It just felt fitting to the scene.