No Matter What (A Dreammare Fic)

Chapter 11: One, Two, Three, Four--Who's That On The Negative Fourth Floor?

"Dream!"

"Hm?" Dream acknowledged, turning over his shoulder on the main floor to see Cross, Killer, Horror, and Dust. "Oh, hello boys."

"Where ya goin' Little Light?" Killer asked, sliding an arm around Dream's shoulders.

Dream smiled softly. "I'm going to the fourth basement to meet someone named 'Tech.'"

Dust's arms were crossed, and he had his usually empty expression on his face. "That's a bit far for you to be walking on your own."

With a pout, Dream sighed. "I know," he admitted, "but Night asked me to."

The Imperial knights exchanged a look, one Dream didn't quite catch. They had an air of guilt and shame to them that Dream also couldn't decipher what for--although he dismissed it as some shenanigan they had gotten up to in his absence.

"Well," Killer purred, using his trademark charm, "why don't we join ya? We don't have much else to do."

Dream nodded, happy to have the boys by his side. Even during the time he'd been here, he still hadn't quite gotten used to the formalities and rules of the manor, nor settled into the tightly woven mesh of workers, dignitaries, and other staff. "That would be lovely, Killer," he replied, "thank you."

Killer chuckled as he took Dream's hand and lightly pressed it's knuckles to his teeth. "Don't thank me," he corrected, "thank Protective One and Two."

Dream tilted his head. Protective One and Two? Whoever could that be? He frowned slightly, but noticed the incredible embarrassment coming off of Cross, and the slight bit off of Horror. He turned to the two of them, confused and about to ask why they were so embarrassed when his gaze fell on the two of them, and the question died in his mouth. Cross's face was a bright shade of purple, and he had ducked his cheeks into his cowl in an attempt to hide them. Despite that, his face remained mostly neutral and his posture normal, though the way he seemed not to know what to do with his hands and the slight fuzzing of his eyelights gave him away.

Dream reeled. Not because of Cross, but because Dream could see Nightmare, before everything had happened in Cross' place. His bright flush and the way he would try to hide in his cloak when flustered, and how he would fidget with his hands, not knowing what to do with them without a book or paper in them. So used to praise and compliments he would go bright at the smallest of affections. It had been cute then, and Dream longed to see that version of Nightmare again. So happy and eased and carefree.

He shook his head, coming back to the present, and flicked his eyes over to Horror. The skeleton was slightly flushed red, and whether that was because he wasn't as embarrassed as Cross, or because, as he had found out, that Horror had very little magic, was unknown to him. He had been playing with the edge of his dead socket while he looked away from Dream, and that hand had migrated up towards his skull break, tugging at some of the edges in a pattern Dram didn't understand.

Something about that struck Dream as wrong, so he began to form the words to ask Horror to stop when Dust stepped closer to Horror. "Hey," Dust murmured to Horror as he grabbed the other skeleton's wrist and guided it away from his head wound, "you're not s'posed to do that anymore..."

Horror blinked down at Dust and nodded slowly, his flush growing as he muttered an apology, which was shut down by Dust.

Dream was taken aback. Not only by the display of care from the most reserved of the knights, but also because of how Horror reacted--his emotions surging with warmth and care even as he cringed for messing up.

Cross cleared his throat, wanting to justify himself even as he went bright. "Look, I-"

Dream laughed, a soft sound that stopped Cross and Horror in their tracks. "Cross, Cross," he got out between giggles, "I don't mind. I think it's sweet." He turned to Killer at his side, who frequently carried himself around without prompting, then thought back to Dust, and his own caring for Horror just a moment ago--even if Dream didn't quite know why messing with the wound was not good for Horror, the way Dust's emotions had changed to concern was enough. "In fact," he added softly, "I think we have Caring One and Two here, as well."