One-shots [Reqs: 5]

Stepping Up [Rat]

HERE IT FUCKIN IS BOYS!!! COME GETCHYA'LL JUICE

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Killer gazed blankly at the dark wall, listening to Dream and Nightmare argue. The walls, it seemed, were thin enough that both he and Cross could hear every spoken word.

"I'm sure that we can figure something out, and it's not up to us-"

"The hell it ain't! I don't want that child here, it's already bad enough that I have to deal with him outside of school, and now that he has no school, I'm going to have to babysit two fucking people!"

"But- Night, that's your job, you agreed to it-"

"I agreed to house one patient. His child was extra baggage that I didn't have a choice but to bring."

Killer winced. The blankets shifted, Cross sitting up with a grunt. "Stay here. I'll deal with this." He didn't respond, only worming under his blanket further. His dad's feet didn't make a sound as he padded out of the room, the door clicking shut softly, leaving Killer alone.

"Even so, we can't send Killer to some training camp just because you don't like him!"

"Don't- Dream, how many times has he attack me? He was literally expelled for attacking someone-"

"If I may."

Killer pressed his chin into his pillow, shutting his eyes tightly. Cross's voice wasn't the timid thing it had been for the past few months. When he spoke, Killer could almost compare Cross to Horror or Red. Even Error, with a tone like that. He cut into Dream and Nightmare's argument cleanly, not a hint of hesitance in his voice. Firmly, he seemed to snap at the both of them. "Killer is my responsibility, he's my son, I don't care how annoying you find him, we are not going to send him away."

"This isn't just because of my opinion of him, he's dangerous. A training camp, whatever you call it, that would teach him some restraint-"

"I am not sending him away!"

Killer cringed. There it was. The anger that had been smoldering in Cross's eyes finally broke out. Dream's softened voice came through the thin wall, pacifying. "Cross, we aren't sending him away. We're just worried about his education."

"Don't pull a fucking 'we' on me, you and I both know that Nightmare doesn't give a shit about Killer's education." They were getting louder, steadily, a fight brewing. Killer could sense it even through the walls.

"But-"

"No. Dream, I appreciate that you care so much, it's a blessing that you do, that's the only reason I'm even fucking humoring you right now, but Nightmare?" When Cross was forced to answer, he had always done so with stone-cold determination and would not back down until it was settled. The fight could very well take hours if Nightmare decided to pick one. "Nightmare is not- Don't you fucking talk right now, don't you dare interrupt me. You aren't going to decide anything when it comes to Killer. I'm going to handle this."

"Handle it? You call whatever the fuck you're doing 'handling' it??"

"At least I'm fucking doing something! What have you done? Please, tell me, because I haven't seen you lift a fucking finger since this all began."

"Cross.. What have you done?"

Killer's metaphorical ears pricked up. That was something he'd wondered over as well. Cross had been busy as of late, making calls and receiving them constantly, even at ungodly hours of the night. Out of respect, Killer hadn't listened in, even if he knew it was most likely about him. He wouldn't ask. There would come a time when Cross told him. But now, he couldn't help but listen as Cross finally responded to Dream's question.