One-shots [Reqs: 5]

Cross's Sleeping Problems

Killer knew he had sleeping issues. Hell, he'd be surprised to find anyone in this castle who didn't have sleeping issues. Dust had horrible insomnia and nightmares, Horror was restless and woke up constantly for snacks, Nightmare just flat out avoided sleeping entirely, and Killer himself had pretty bad insomnia and restlessness as well.

As soon as Cross showed up, Killer knew right off the bat that this guy would have issues as well. And he wasn't wrong. Cross avoided sleep like the plague, woke up screaming when he did sleep, and, strangely enough, Cross was apparently a sleepwalker too.

The first time it happened, it hadn't even been obvious.

The gang tended to stay up at ungodly hours, only really going to sleep when they really thought they needed it. Nothing short of passing out would ever really land them in bed. However, Cross had a sleep schedule. He went to bed at a specific time, and woke up at a specific time, like clockwork, before carrying out activities and tasks that were very clearly planned beforehand.

Killer didn't blame him for keeping himself on such a schedule, they all had something they had to do to stay sane, and this was what Cross did.

That being said, it had been a tad startling when Cross walked into the kitchen at nearly 12 am, way past his usual bedtime. It had been even more alarming when the newbie walked straight into a cupboard and stood there for a solid ten minutes. Dust had laughed himself raw, jeering from the table and picking at Cross, though he stopped the longer Cross was unresponsive.

And then, without a word, Cross turned and walked back out the door, staring at nothing in particular, and vanished into the darkness beyond.

The next morning, when Cross joined them for breakfast, he'd been flat out confused. "No?? I was in bed, I don't even remember waking up, are you sure I did that?"

The second time, it had been just as startling, though slightly more concerning. Nightmare had opened his office door to find Cross standing there, wide eyed and mumbling about Ink's horrible brush cooking.

Nightmare had jumped back nearly a foot, his corruption spiking and rippling as he demanded to know what Cross wanted. "Ink. His tacos. They're made of ink." And Cross left without ceasing his strange muttering. Nightmare watched after him, confused, because he could clearly sense that Cross was asleep. But, Cross had been there, at his door, and looked awake.

Killer joked around for a while that Cross was doing drugs or some kind of stimulant.

Cross, once again, denied it ever happening. He couldn't recall anything of the sort, though he did admit to dreaming about the tacos Ink used to make.

One time is an event, two times is a coincidence, but three times is a pattern.

Tonight, Killer had run into him alone this time. As someone with bad sleeping habits, he tended to roam aimlessly in the darker hours of the day, doing mostly nothing until he could actually do something else.

He ran right into Cross, bumping into the unmoving soldier from behind. No reaction came aside from a slight swaying. Killer stepped back, opening his mouth to snark something unflattering, but paused as Cross shifted.

It immediately unnerved Killer, to meet Cross's gaze and find no recognition of any sort, any hint of awareness of where he was or what he was doing. Cross stared at him, unblinking, before turning again and walking away a couple feet. He hit a wall, tripping on his feet as he stumbled back, and dropped onto the floor with a gasp.

A split second later, Cross sat up sharply, a hand on his face where he'd slammed into the wall. Killer watched, dumbfounded, as Cross rubbed his face, cursing. "Not again.."

"Yo, what the fuck."

Cross jumped, turning around quickly, his eyes widening at the sight of Killer. "Oh- Hey, Killer, um. What's up?"

"Wh- What's up with you?? Are you high or some shit??"

Cross's hand slid down to his neck, his hand scratching at it awkwardly. "Uh. No, I'm, eh. I think I'm sleepwalking again."

And it all clicked, and Killer's first reaction was to snort loudly and remark, "Yeah, no shit."

The next day, as soon as Nightmare found out, Cross was giving a rather stern lecture about sharing such issues. "I nearly killed you the other night simply because you showed up at my office door! If I had known beforehand-!" Cross grimaced under the verbal assault, nodding along.

---

Once Cross's sleepwalking habits were well-known, they no longer batted an eye when Cross suddenly appeared ominously in random places.

The day came, however, when a new issue made itself known. It started with Nightmare stiffening at the table. Horror tilted his head when he noticed, a light frown on his face. "boss?"

Nightmare pushed out of his seat roughly, a sense of urgency falling over him. "Something is wrong with Cross," was all he said before he warped into the shadows and away to Cross's room.

Without a moment's thought, the others were following, the three of them scrambling out of their seats to teleport across the castle and join Nightmare.

The first thing they heard was the screaming. Horrible, scratchy, pained screaming that had Dust's chest feeling tight with rising panic and Horror twitching at the volume.

The door was already open, Nightmare already inside with his tentacles worming around Cross's arms and legs to keep his thrashing body from falling off the bed. Killer's legs tensed, weak at the sight of Cross, someone who was normally so stoic yet chilled, begging for something and screaming like his life depended on it.

The event lasted only a minute or two, yet it felt like an eternity before Nightmare managed to set his hand on Cross's skull and pull the night terror away. Cross's voice broke, his breath coming heavily and sweat beaded his skull, but slowly, he calmed. Nightmare siphoned away the negativity, draining Cross of the worst of it before letting out a sigh and pulling away entirely. Cross remained dead asleep somehow, now relaxed and content looking.

This too, along with the sleepwalking, became a regular occurrence. Nightmare couldn't do much, as Cross refused to take sleeping medication and refused to see anyone about his nightmares.

The sleep paralysis was the worst thing, Nightmare seemed to claim. The terror Cross always felt when it happened was so potent that it was nearly visibly tangible. Once Nightmare began to be able to notice the tell-tell signs of a bad night's rest, he started ordering 'joint sleep sessions'.

They were basically sleepovers. It did wonders for Cross, as well as the others. Those were the nights when all of them, even Nightmare, got the best sleep.

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written based off an ask i got on tumblr about cross having sleeping issues and the gang's reaction to it