Chapter Text
You, Dream and Blue all gather in the kitchen. The three of you are all working on different parts of the apple pie. You're working on the filling, Dream on the crust, and Blue on peeling the apples.
“LIKE THIS, RIGHT?” Blue asks, showing you a damn near perfectly peeled apple. Your eyes widen at the beauty in front of you and you glance down at the peel and see it's only in two pieces.
“Dear god, that's perfect, Blue.” You saw in awe.
Blue's eye lights light up in little stars, glowing brightly as he beams a smile at you. “OF COURSE! IT'S ME WHO'S DOING THIS!” He goats.
The sound of Dream clearing his throat turns your attention to him. He looks at you sheepishly, hunched over a little to make himself look smaller and he brings his shoulders up to his jaw.
“I- uhm, I think I did something wrong…” He chuckles nervously.
You look at him confused, eyes falling down to the dough in his hands. Or perhaps on his hands is a better phrase. Dough is sticking to his phalanges, wedged in his joints and hidden in his metacarpals.
You can't help but to snicker a little, covering your mouth quickly as his face lights up in a bright blush.
“Sorry- sorry,” You hold back more laughs at the bashful Guardian in front of you. “Did you put flour on your hands before you started kneading it?” You ask, flouring your own hands to begin cleaning the bigger chunks off his hands and putting them with the mangled ball of dough.
“Yeah, I rubbed flowers on my hands.”
“Flour the powder? Or flower the plant?” You ask confused, trying your hardest to not continue laughing.
“The… plants?” He tries to smile at you, shrugging slowly.
“Oh my dear Nightlight,” You sigh, smiling at him. “You want to coat your hands in flour, the powder, on your hands to keep the dough from sticking. Although, bones are porous, so maybe that wouldn't have helped.” You muse, looking down at your task again. “But also, you're a monster, not a human skeleton-” Your head snaps over to Dream again.
He jolts at your sudden attention, eyelights shrinking a tiny bit.
“Dream?” You ask.
“Y-yeah?” He glances around.
“Let me see your hands, I wanna see something.” You say, offering your hand for his own.
He awkwardly puts his hands in yours and you bring them closer to your face, looking closely at the bones.
Dream says nothing, watching you analyze his hands like crime scene evidence. You hum, finally looking back up at Dream.
“They're not porous, though I don’t know what I was expecting.” You let go of his hands, looking at the dough. “We can swap if you want, that way you don't have to get more dough stuck in your bones. You can wash your hands to clean them off.” You smile, coating your hands in flour.
“That would be much appreciated, thanks.” Dream smiles, going over to the skin.
“HOW MANY APPLES AM I SUPPOSED TO PEEL AGAIN?” Blue asks behind you.
“Generally about seven or eight, why?” You reply, turning around only for your mouth to fall open again.
In front of Blue is about fifteen perfectly peeled apples. He looks proud of himself, smiling widely with his hands on his hip bones. When you don't say anything, you can see his smile falter, hands slowly falling from his hips before you can think of a way to fix this.
“DID I MAKE TOO MANY…?” He asks, glancing down at the apples.
God why do these two have the most painful puppy dog eyes? You can't possibly disappoint these two, even if you don't really know Blue at all.
“No! No, not at all.” You practically yell out, gently resting your hand on his shoulder. “This is perfect! I mean, was one pie really gonna be enough for all three of us? Honestly, Blue, you were thinking ahead of me. I didn't even think about that.” You smile widely.
Blue looks at you, seeing your smile, and smiles back. “YEAH. YEAH, TWO IS PERFECT FOR US!” He agrees, nodding.
“Aaaaaand, the pies are done!” You smile widely, putting on your mitts and carefully pulling them out of the oven and placing them on the stove carefully.
“They'll need to cool down for a bit so we don't burn ourselves but that shouldn't take too long.” You smile at the two of them, placing the oven mitts on the counter.
The two skeletons cheer a little, proud that all of their work was worth it.
“Oh, this will be so fun!” Dream claps his hands, with Blue agreeing.
Sitting at the island across from Dream and Blue, you all begin chatting idly, waiting for the pies to cool.
“Oh, Dream? Is there a way I could get my hands on some stuff? I don't really have enough of my old things to make potions and there's a few things I want to make.” You ask, crossing your arms on the island.
“Of course. I can always make whatever you need.” Dream offers.
“Yeah, but it'll have too much of your magical residue. It’ll mess with my potions.” You explain, waving a hand around lightly as you talk.
Dream nods along. “That makes sense. We can go to a Marketverse soon then. Blue, you can come along too in case there's anything you want.”
“DO WE HAVE THE GOLD FOR ANY OF IT?” Blue asks. “I DON'T HAVE A LOT.”
You and Dream fall silent and glance at each other.
You speak up first. “I uh. I used to have a good chunk of saving back in my verse. but I think I lost my phone in the…” You take a deep breath. “I think my phone got ‘deleted’.” You decide on the wording.
“I can always make some.” Dream pipes up.
You shake your head, laughing a little. “Probably not the best idea. We don't want to break the economy.” You say.
“Oh. I guess that would make sense.” Dream nods, thinking.
You three fall silent, trying to figure out how to make any money. A small but silly idea pops into your head.
“Is there something like a universal board or somewhere to find a place to do small tasks for gold?” You ask.
Dream tilts his head. “There are some open verses where we could probably find something similar to that.”
“WE CAN BE LOCAL HEROES!” Blue nearly slams his hands on the island, jumping up excitedly.
“Yeah!” You agree, smiling at them. “This could be fun! And while we're at it, we can learn to fight together to face ‘the forces of evil’!”
“MWEHEHEHE THIS WILL BE GLORIOUS! WE WILL BE KNOWN ACROSS THE MILTIVERSE!”
You and Blue bounce ideas and plans to become the most well known saviors across the multiverse.
On the side, Dream smiles at you both happily; a proud parent looking at his kids. He regrets a lot of what happened. To you, to Blue and to himself. He wants to make it up to everyone, to prove that he can be the hero that you both need.
He'll teach you to defend yourselves, teach you to stand strong against his brother. He will not fail you both again. He won't let history create a pattern.
“Oh! The pies!” You remember, standing up quickly. How long you'd been talking, you were unsure. But the pies had cooled enough to be eaten.
You turn, hovering your hands over the pies to feel the heat coming off them. While still a little warm, you can definitely eat them. Looking around, you try to find something to cut them with.
“Do we have any knives? I can't cut them with anything I see.” You ask, looking to Dream over your shoulder.
“No need.” Dream smiles, waving a hand in the air.
The pies are brought over to the table and Dream uses magic to begin cutting them open as a spectral knife is summoned. “Mind getting some plates?” He asks Blue, smiling over at him.
“I WOULD LOVE TO!” Blue gets up, beginning to open cabinets until he finds the ornate plates. Simple floral designs decorate the outer edges of the plates, and the forks that Blue somehow finds are much the same. The handles are simple with suns marking the end of the handle, but pretty nonetheless.
You all sit down, taking your own slices and resume your chatting.
Snow falls, laying thick and heavy on the ground. While normally the sight would be pretty- untouched snow coating the surroundings in a pretty frost, this is far from soothing.
Despite the numerous buildings around, there's a complete lack of footprints. The only signs of life are eyes peeking out of only a few of the houses. The sound of crunching snow echoes almost too loudly for comfort as Nightmare and Killer walk.
“Sooo,” Killer begins, glancing up at Nightmare before quickly turning his attention to the approaching house in front of them. “What's got us here? I don’t think your brother or his little friends are here.”
Nightmare doesn't look at the skeleton next to him. Despite their coding, Nightmare towers over Killer by a bit. Killer would only stand at his shoulder if he ever stood up straight.
“While I know I said this could take a while,” Nightmare begins, turning his head slightly to look over at Killer with his good eye. “I've had my attention on someone here for a very long time. I've been meaning to ‘offer him a job’, so to speak.”
A dog monster growls at the two from the treeline, and while Killer knows it won't do anything, he can't help but to antagonize it a little. As they watch each other, he surges his upper body a little to scare off the monster.
“So I'll be getting some co-workers?” Killer looks back ahead of them, hands stuffed into his pockets now.
“You could say that. While you're, by all technicalities, my ‘body guard’, I am only in need of one. He will be your subordinate. Along with anyone else we gain.” Nightmare explains.
The house looms over them as they step onto the doorstep. Nightmare brings his hand up, knocking rather politely before bringing his hand to rest in his pocket again.
Seconds tick by. One, two, before they're greeted by a much too cheery skeleton, much too tall for the house, opening the door.
“GREETINGS! IS THERE ANYTHING I CAN HELP YOU WITH?” He asks, smiling widely at the two.
Killer's nasal ridge scrunches up at the shape of his mouth. Blood and mangled teeth do nothing for the horrific excuse of a Papyrus. He's much too tall for an average Papyrus, standing well over two meters over the two Sans Types in front of him, even with him hunching.
Nightmare seems unaffected by his appearance, speaking as if nothing is wrong. “Is your brother home? We would like to speak with him.”
While Nightmare’s voice could never be described as gentle, at this moment it had a softer edge to it.
“NOT AT THE MOMENT. HE'S CURRENTLY TALKING TO THE MAYOR! IF YOU WOULD LIKE, YOU CAN COME IN AND WAIT FOR HIM TO GET HOME.” The Papyrus offers, stepping aside for the two of them to come in.
“Thank you kindly, Papyrus.” Nightmare nods to him and walks in, signaling Killer to follow.
As the shortest skeleton follows, he glares up at Papyrus. Although it's clear it doesn't come across right with the permanent smile on his face. Papyrus returns it with a bright smile of his own, causing Killer to roll his nonexistent eyelights.
“PLEASE, FEEL FREE TO SIT DOWN,” Papyrus gestures to the ratty old couch in the middle of the living room. “I'LL FIND YOU BOTH SOMETHING TO EAT.”
Nightmare nods at him and sits down with Killer. Killer huffs a little and crosses his arms, practically throwing himself on the couch.
“You seem awfully wound up.” Nightmare states quietly.
Killer huffs again, not looking at Nightmare. “He's a disgrace to Papyrus. Looks like a mockery of any good Papyrus.” He says, bouncing his leg.
“Intresting, coming from you.” Nightmare muses. “After all, someone could say the same about us.” He points out.
Nightmare can feel the anger rolling off of him, devouring it happily as Killer gets worked up.
“You're not to kill him though. We need him alive to gain our newest companion.”
Killer stands up, about to argue as Papyrus walks back into the living room.
‘APOLOGIES, GUESTS. IT SEEMS WE ARE OUT OF FOOD FOR THE WEEK. YET AS A HUMBLE HOST I COULD NOT BARE TO GIVE YOU NOTHING. SO INSTEAD I HAVE BROUGHT YOU WATER!” He smiles proudly, carefully bending down to hand them both the cold cups of what was clearly melted snow.
“I HAVE ALSO TEXTED MY BROTHER THAT HIS FRIENDS ARE HERE, SO HE SHOULD BE HOME ANY MINUTE NOW!”
“Thank you very much, Papyrus. You have a very kind SOUL.” Nightmare takes the water and takes a small sip. Deeming it safe enough to drink, he allows himself to drink a little more.
His good eye wanders to Killer who's simply glaring at the cold water in front of him, refusing to look at the ‘mockery of his brother’.
Feeling Nightmare's eyes on him, he hesitantly takes the smallest sip he can before sitting back down. He says nothing, keeping his eyes on the floor he glares at the dirty, faded carpet beneath his feet.
“YOU KNOW,” Papyrus says, bringing his hand up to his mangled jaw. “YOU LOOK QUITE A BIT LIKE MY BROTHER.”
Nightmare doesn’t need to look at Killer to feel his gaze. He lets out a small chuckle before speaking.
“I’ve never quite thought about that. Perhaps we do.” Nightmare says as he nods.
Papyrus goes to open his mouth again to speak, but the sound of the door opening stops him as he turns his attention to it. His eyelights flash a warm orange for just a second before he smiles widely.
“BROTHER! YOUR FRIENDS ARE HERE TO SEE YOU!” Papyrus gestures to Nightmare and Killer, clearly very excited to see his beloved brother again.
“Yeah… thanks for telling me.” A deep, timber voice says from the door. The sounds of footsteps walking into the home draw Nightmare’s attention to the man of the hour while Killer keeps his eyes focused on the chipped cup in his hands.
He doesn’t look at them, turning his head as something rustles at his side. Walking past them without even seeming to notice them in his living room, the large Sans Type walks into the kitchen with a slightly too red shopping bag in his hand.
“I got us some food, Paps.” The Sans’ voice echoes through the house.
He and Papyrus talk back and forth for a minute, muttering something about food before they seemingly come to an agreement.
The Sans turns, sockets closed with a hand on the back of his neck. Walking back into the living room, ready to make up any excuse to get his supposed ‘friends’ to leave as soon as possible.
He halts, fully pausing in any movement at the sight of two other versions of him in his living room. Killer finally takes a chance to look up at the hulking figure standing behind him, sockets widening at the sight.
Past emotions forgotten, he lets out a small snicker before Nightmare slaps the back of his head harshly with a shadow tentacle.
Killer snaps his head to look at Nightmare- only for a second, he would swear- until his attention is grabbed once again by the sound of bone scratching bone.
The giant cracked hole in his skull was already bad enough to Killer, along with the giant red eyelight and stench of rot that clung to him. But the sight of his hand half stuffed in his burnt out socket makes Killer shutter. His other hand is tightly clenching his shirt and part of his jacket, threatening to tear the clothing with how hard he’s digging his sharp phalanges into them.
He’s muttering incomplete sentences, garbled words and messed up phrases as his one good eye bounces back between the two of them, shaking wildly.
“How did- who… You can’t… I shouldn’t- can’t-... he won’t- and I… They… How-” He continuously mutters, pulling and scratching at his dead socket harshly enough for small bits of dust to flutter down from his grasp, further dirtying the already blood stained coat.
Rolling his own lone eyelight, Nightmare stands up, turning to face the other Sans and smiles at the fear and confusion radiating off of him.
“Greetings.” He walks around the couch, causing Killer to stand up just the same. “We’re here to ask you if you’re open to new job opportunities.” Nightmare states, looking up at the Sans, who stands unmoving except for his eye following the two in front of him.
He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself as he attempts to speak.
“G-get… Out.”