No Matter What (A Dreammare Fic)

Chapter 6: Steps Forward

'Why is he staring at us?' The figure asked, purple engulfing his face. Fuck should I know? Nightmare replied within his head. He felt his own face heat slightly from the way Dream was appraising him, but luckily it wasn't obvious.

Nightmare looked at Dream--or more specifically, where Dream was. In Cross' arms, and that fact made Nightmare's corrupted soul churn, although he couldn't place why. It was an odd burning sensation, and Nightmare resisted the urge to rub at his sternum where the feeling was concentrated.

Killer looked up to where Horror and Cross were looking down on him, then quipped, "I lay myself at thine feet, o' knight in shining monochrome--it appears you have already rescued the princess from her castle."

"Shut up or I will stomp your skull in," Nightmare growled, not wanting to think about Dream as Cross' princess--or a princess at all. "I am revoking your talking privileges--I'm sure it was some patronizing remark that got Dust to chase you."

Unceremoniously, Dust and Killer were dumped at Horror and Cross' feet. "What is the rule with fighting in the hallways?" Nightmare prodded, his arms crossed over his chest as his tentacles lashed behind him.

"Not to do it," the knights replied monotonously.

"And yet you continue to do so," Nightmare mused with an annoyed lilt in his voice. "You make me look bad in front of the kings of the realm--I have already heard them speaking of me going soft on all of you for allowing you to sit closer to me than the highest of the visiting aristocrats at my table.

"I had the practice rooms made specifically so your petty squabbles would not wreck the manor and traumatize the staff," Nightmare continued.

"We know," the knights responded in a practiced manner.

Nightmare sighed and rubbed his temples. "Then use that knowledge and apply it. Seriously, three of you have PhDs in theoretical quantum mechanics, and you still cannot follow a simple order."

"Sorry, boss," Dust said quietly, getting up to stand beside Horror.

"Yeah, sorry, Boss," Killer repeated after getting up. He leaned on Cross, smiling widely. "Did our Little Light get tired?"

Dream's bones already had a slight yellow tinge, but his cheekbones began to flush slightly with the saffron color of his magic.

"I seem to recall revoking your speaking privileges, Killer," Nightmare said, trying to avoid looking into Dream's bright eyelights that were staring at him. "Although I am curious as to why Dream is in Cross' arms."

"He's getting the same feeling I had after my injury, Boss--the tingling, burning, disconnected one," Horror answered. "I'm not a doctor, but I know straining the injury can make it worse, and I didn't want him to have to go through any magical retraining of his legs, so Cross decided to carry him so he wouldn't have to put any pressure on his spine."

"Shit," Nightmare muttered, repressed concern spiking in him. "Get Dream into his suite. I am going to fetch Rose."

Cross adjusted his hold on Dream and began to walk quickly through the hallways, navigating the fastest route back to Dream's suite.

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Well, that happened. If Dream was allowed to move, he would have smacked himself over the head repeatedly for staring at Nightmare the entire time he was scolding the boys. He wished he could justify his staring, but he honestly couldn't other than the fact that he looked good in formal clothing--the style suited him and his mannerisms well.

When he had been set down upon the bed he was currently reclining on, he had noticed that his room had been cleaned: the sheets, bedspread, pillows, and many other things in the room had been changed from darker hues to lighter ones, and anything that had gotten marrow on it had been cleaned or replaced.