Archive of Our Own

Dream would be lying if he said he didn't think too much about very specific feelings that had the tendency to... Overcomplicate everything. He understood these thought almost too easily, but coming to terms with them was almost near impossible. It wasn't like he didn't want to come to terms with those thoughts- he had no time to!

...Okay, that was another lie. Dream had too much time to think about and come to term with these thoughts. Spending decades trapped in stone should have made him understand that more he wanted to admit. Which was true- He almost didn't want to admit he thought about those overcomplicated feelings ever since everything had happened. Sometimes he could admit that he pushed those thoughts away, forced them out of his mind, forced him to focus on the tasks that were in front of him, tasks which felt almost infinite at this point.

The never ending wariness Dream had to keep in latch onto every time he traveled to another Universe almost drained him. He had to do this. He had to never stay in one place. It wasn't just for his safety, but for those around him. He knew the natural consequences when he stayed in a world that did not need or welcome his physical presence. He was almost too careful to keep himself hidden, too careful to make sure he was never apart of the main story, too careful to make sure that these people didn't see him and divert from their set paths.

A memory pulsed through his head, one that refused to go away almost on a daily basis. He remembered it, the feelings, and the lack of natural feelings of the person in front of him in said memory. He remembered the sound of his words, detached from the idea and concept that these people that lived across the ever expanded Multiverse could ever be real. That none of them had actual feelings or thoughts or motives because none of that was real. They were just characters made by beings stronger than Dream and Ink.

Ink... Dream didn't hate Ink. Dream couldn't hate anybody. It wasn't that he lacked that ability- he very much could hate anyone and everyone if he let himself- but Dream preferred to rather be annoyed in a general sense. He didn't need to be annoyed at Ink directly or himself. The annoyance could just be general. General feelings and general thoughts.

Ink was somebody Dream had basic respect for. However, Dream wasn't so sure if he could classify Ink as a "close" friend anymore... Or even at all to begin with. Dream did care for Ink and as much as the two of their ideas and concepts clashed, he knew Ink had a sense of care for him too. But... Whether that came from Ink himself or his obligations wasn't something that was ever clear. Dream just knew Ink was somebody he could rely on if something terrible happened, and vise versa.

The snow crunched almost barely against his boots as Dream found himself in a more or less neutral feeling Universe. He let out a soft breath, noting the lack of clouded air expelling from his mouth as he always did. He could not feel the cold as much as he could the emotions that ran course through every living thing that he could sense here. He didn't need to know exactly where he was anymore- the snow and the trees and the lack of natural sky above told him all he needed to know. Another Snowdin. Dream found himself to naturally go towards Snowdin more than the other areas of any Underground-centric AU he went to. There was a mixture of negativity and positivity, not at war but at resigned peace.

He let out another soft breath, this time more of a sigh. He reached his hands up and over his head to grasp onto the hood resting against his upper back and shoulders, folding the fabric up over his head. He knew it didn't matter if people could see him or not. Once he walked towards someone, anyone that could feel emotions, he knew they had an inkling of his presence, his aura. He knew that when they caught it and recognized it and sat with it a little too long, they grew addictive. They grew wanting, eager, obsessed. It pained Dream more that he could not control his overpowering positive aura. It pained Dream more that he was unwillingly hurting people. It came with who he was now and the consequences of his actions so long ago.

He found it only slightly easier to force himself to grow distant with everybody before they latched onto him. He could feel their emotions, and he was able to name them and sort through them almost effortlessly. He was very aware of the common consensus that people naturally drifted towards him whether they wanted to or not. Whether it was his aura, bright and overwhelmingly positive and almost dreamlike, or just his never ending kindness and beaming smile.

Oh how Dream wished he didn't need to smile. Oh how Dream wished people didn't get so dependent and latched onto his smile. Oh how Dream wished there was someone out there who could make him smile, not because he needed to, but because maybe he felt that positivity from them his aura didn't force out.

Ink was definitely one of those people Dream could say had been able to do that, but Dream couldn't shake the emptiness he sensed from Ink. He had no right to conclude if Ink's feelings were "real" or not, but Dream could not shake that general lack Ink had for those untethered, uncontrolled natural emotions that caused Dream's conflicted feelings and thoughts. Ink could smile and beam, but Dream could never tell if it was from sincerity or if Ink was planning a little scheme. He could never tell if Ink was being genuine, or if he was lying straight to his face, no matter if his always changing eye lights depicted it blankly in front of Dream or not.

One thing Dream had to stress to everyone over and over again was that he was not a mind reader. He did not completely know where the source of the emotions he felt from everybody came from, or what thoughts had ran amuck through their minds caused them to leak out. He just felt the emotions, the waves, the colors, and felt it always.

He let his mind wander to the sound of soft snow crunching underneath his light footsteps. He always liked the look of snow, how beautiful it was and what it spoke to him. Snow was the a sign of a changing of the seasons, of times passing, of another day gone and another day to come. Even in a place like Snowdin, where the snow never melted, there was beauty. Specific plants blossomed only with this continuous temperature and environment, and the trees that sprouted seemingly infinite always had water to drink from and fresh, almost moisturized soil to be imbedded in. Snow had it's faults, yes, and it had so many opportunities to be overly annoying. Snow stuck to clothes, and when it melted, the clothes became wet and sticky and gross. Snow was cold, so the natural instinct to heating up when it got too cold was always there. Snow was bothersome- it would make it hard to open doors or windows due to the frost or just the weight of the snow itself. But there was also the joy of snow: snowball fights and laughing with warm mugs in hand and the whispers of the holidays around the corner.

Dream's attention slowly turned to a clearing as the trees started to very briefly dispersed. He could hear the smiles and sigh of exhaust from further up ahead. Dream was in no rush to move towards the unapologetic feelings he sensed, but he was also cautious. 

Dream gradually moved across the trees, the shadows gently wrapping around him like a warm blanket, not too overwhelming but also completely okay with letting him go if he wanted to leave. His gaze drift towards the sight of two people playing in the snow, one of them a human child and the other a monster. He didn't let himself overanalyze who they were or were supposed to be but just drifted with their emotions.

He could sense joy, relaxation. Pure positivity.

But he could also sense something a little further down. Dread, sorrow even. 

And then came those emotions Dream knew didn't tether towards positive nor negative. 

Hope. Determination. 

And then the ones that... Dream didn't really understand. Tried not to think about too much- the ones Dream lied about feeling. Those "overcomplicating" ones.

Concern. Worry.

Concern... Worry... Those two emotions were born from a mixture of negative and positive. While hope and determination persisted with or without either negative or positive sources, concern and worry were a mixture of both. A messy, overcomplicated mixture.

Dream's brow furrowed. He felt a bit further, his eyes widening then softening when he came to the same conclusion every time he did this.

There was one emotion that could never be swayed or changed or reasoned with or faked or faltered.

Love.

Pure love.

Love could be platonic, romantic... It wasn't something easy to label. Love was all these emotions tied together, tied together with a overly colorful bow that never stayed the same mixture of colors no matter how you look at it.

Dream laxed against a tree. He loved... Sometimes he thought the loved too much. But the more he thought about it, he sat with it, turned that bow in his hands, untying and retying that ribbon, his thought went back in a circle, the same one it had been going in since what had happened all those years ago.

Dream loved his brother. Dream's brother loved him. It was mutual and it was untethered and it stemmed from overcomplicated feelings like worry and concern, to hope and determination.

Dream stiffened as he felt himself drift onto memories, and forced himself not to. It wasn't because he didn't want to- he'd done it so many times that one thing had become so clear he ended up staring it face to face without trying, without summoning it.

Nightmare... The brother Dream had loved and knew and worried and had concern for...

He was gone. Long gone. Dead even.

He shivered as that one word rested in his mind.

Dead.

It was true. Overwhelmingly true. The Nightmare Dream knew long ago was gone and there was no way to get him back... At least in any way Dream would've liked. Where both of them were safe and okay and alive.

A twig snapped terribly close. Dream snapped his head up, his vision struggling to clear through a blurriness that brought him aware of the wetness on his face. He was crying. Almost in vain, Dream wiped his face with the back of his gloves. Nobody needed to see him like this. He had to smile and stay positive! He-

"You're a mess."

Dream froze, hands paused with fingers barely pressing against his face.

Breathless, almost delicately, his head turned to where the voice came from.

"C... Cross!?"

"What? Surprised to see me?"

Cross huffed, one of his hands resting on the tattered but still fluffed fur of his jacket tied around his waist, the other lax by his side, a knife dangling from his hand in a relaxed but cautious grip. His smile looked relaxed, calm even, but his eyes spoke more words then his expression did. There was concern and worry.

Dream sniffed, albeit too loud than he wanted to initially. He didn't need to sniff to simulate anything, but being around so many different people all the time brought on habits he hadn't really realized he picked up. Sniffing, when he lacked anything resembling a nose or sensations of traditional organs or anything his current physical form lacked, just seemed to be one of those "socially acceptable" things he picked up unconsciously. 

"I'm okay," Dream said, wiping his face hurryingly. He forced his voice steady, and was immensely glad it was when he spoke.

Cross didn't respond or make any sound. In fact, when Dream looked back at him, Cross's face was turned away, expression unreadable.

Dream slowly lowered his arms to his side. He kept looking at Cross, who was facing dead ahead.

Silence peaked around them, just the two of them, and it became almost suffocating to Dream that he carefully and tenderly broke it.

"What... What are you doing here, Cross?" he asked, invoking a curious yet inviting tone.

"Reminiscing."

Cross's response was automatic almost, simple and straight forward and overly blunt. Dream looked at him again for a few more silent seconds before following his gaze, latching onto what Cross was watching.

The human child and the monster had barely begun to make terrible first attempts of making snowman replicas of one another. There were looks of concentration on the human and monster. Two emotions rang true from them and the words associated with those feelings in the English language were bleeding in Dream's mind.

Hope and determination.

A slow smile crept onto Dream's features, small and delicate, unforced and natural.

"What are you doing here, Dream?"

Dream's smile faltered. He turned to look at Cross. "What...?"

Cross's stature hadn't changed, but Dream could sense the feeling he radiated. Some of them probably had words he didn't quite know at this moment, but all of them felt overcomplicated.

"O-Oh! Me? W-Well- I..." Dream's voice trailed off. What was he doing here? Frankly, he didn't even know where he was specifically. Dream forced a soft smile, just enough to provoke a sense of reassurance around everyone that could be around him. "I was just wondering around... Feeling the aura of this universe!"

He'd told Cross multiple times that he preferred not to linger in any space for too long. Not even the Omega Timeline.

Cross made a little "hmm" sound. It either sounded like one of disbelief or acknowledgement... Dream couldn't tell which one it was.

"Aren't you... Didn't Frisk request that you stayed in the Omega Timeline?" 

Cross sighed at Dream's question. "Hmm..." That same sound, but more thoughtful. He sighed again, posture lurching forward slightly. "Yeah, they did. But you know how boring it gets there! And uh... Unnerving as well."

Dream nodded. "I understand." And he did. Maybe not in the same way, but in his own way, Dream understood.

Another bout of silence. But this time Cross broke it. 

"Frisk actually was wondering where you went," he said.

Dream smiled, chuckling. "Frisk can find that out pretty easily."

"Hmm." Cross laxed again, this time removing the hand resting on his hip and pressing it palm down against the bark of the tree next to him. "...Yeah. They can. Makes me wonder why they even asked me to check up on you."

Dream stiffened, but he forced himself to swiftly recover. "They... Asked you to check up on me?"

Frisk, known universally as Core Frisk for classification proposes, had every way and manner to be able to check up on anybody and everybody across the Multiverse. The benefits of being scattered across the concepts of space and time meant they were everywhere but nowhere at once. If they had really worried about Dream, they would have checked up on him by themselves, no matter how busy they got in the Omega Timeline. But Dream knew Frisk had reasons behind everything they did, even if Dream himself couldn't find any rhyme or reason with them.

Cross's nod was curt. Blunt. "Yeah." His eye drifted to look over at him without him turning his head. "I mean..." Dream watched him as he gathered his words. "They care for you."

"They care for everyone Cross."

"Ah, yeah. They do." Cross scoffed, and then groaned. "Pacifists."

Dream let out a soft breath of amusement. "Is that a bad thing?"

"No. Just annoying."

"Oh?" Dream shifted closer to Cross, inches away from nudging him. "How is it annoying?"

"They got this thing where they seem to care for everything and everyone no matter how many evil things they've done or how bad of a person they can be," Cross said, his voice carrying his words as if he talked about this a lot. And he did, more than he ever could admit. Another groan. "It's pretty annoying sometimes!"

"...I'm a pacifist."

Cross's head turned as he faced Dream.

"Do you find me annoying sometimes?" Dream asked.

Cross froze for a bit, then he sputtered at how blunt Dream's question was. Dream then stiffened.

"O-O-Oh! S-Sorry!!" Dream shrank away, respectable distance achieved again.

"I-I-Yo-You- Ugh!" Cross released a deep breath. His mouth twitched before he spoke, slowly and carefully. "Yeah... You can be annoying sometimes."

Dream turned away almost immediately.

"Ah- Dream!" Cross cursed under his breath and moved closer to the him. "A... I didn't mean it like that!"

Dream's body shook. He felt the wave of Cross's words, the emotions leaking out before and now. "I know." His words were quiet, but loud enough for Cross to hear them just barely.

Another round of silence. Uncomfortable. Thick. Deafening.

Thoughts leaked into Dream's mind. Complicated thoughts, overcomplicating emotions.

He pushed them away immediately. He did not need to share them with Cross. He did not need Cross to connect with him and depend on him and be obsessed with him like so many that have been.

Yet, there was still that undiagnosable feeling that maybe he could talk to Cross about these thoughts and feelings... That maybe Cross was somebody he could connect with without the outcome of obsession... But he knew the outcome would end up the same. 

"Do you know why Frisk ask you to check up on me?" Dream asked with.

"They were probably busy or something."

"No... I mean-" Dream found the word. "Let me restart." Nope. He cringed. "Rephrase. Why did they ask you... Specifically?"

Was that the right English word? Dream wasn't entirely sure at first until he looked over and found Cross stiff. Immediately Cross turned his head down and away. Just slightly.

"They were probably busy or something..." he repeated, voice trailing off at the last word, uncertain this time.

"Did they..." Dream didn't want to push, didn't want to distress, but he was overly curious, and his socialization skills were still lacking for conversations like this one. "They did ask you, right?"

"Yeah, obviously!"

Avoidance. A new word Dream now understood the feeling of. Someone telling a truth, but a lie at the same time. Unsure but faking certainty. Though he wasn't sure if that was the most accurate way to describe the word's feelings with what he had right now.

"No. You. Just you. Only you. Specifically you and only you!"

Dream worried him vocally emphasizing those words was too much. Too much emphasizing. He barely knew how sarcasm worked and the purposeful act of emphasizing was also something he was still learning. He worried he was pushing too much.

The way Cross didn't respond, expression unreadable. Dream didn't know how to word the feeling he felt from Cross.

"...I don't know..." 

Avoidance. Again...? No, that was something else. This was something else.

"I... Like- Okay!" Cross caved in, his eye lights rolling up to stare at something Dream looked at but didn't see. "I don't know if I was the only one Frisk asked, but I did specifically uh-a-ask... to...."

Dream didn't need him to finish. He could feel the end of the words waver in the air, heavier than any feeling.

"...to check up on me?" Cross flinched. "You asked them if you could check up on me?" Cross slowly nodded. Slow physical confirmation. Dream tried to get a better look at his face, but Cross avoided any and all attempts. "You asked them? If you could check up? ...On me!?"

"Dude! YES!! What are you- deaf!?"

Heavy confusion leaked from Dream's voice. "...No??"

Cross sighed. Groaned. Cursed under his breath. He wiped his face with his hand, still facing away from Dream. Exasperation. Annoyance. 

Dream shrank.

"That... It..." Another sigh. "Figure of speech."

"What?" More confusion.

"Wha-tha-" Cross shook, then steadied himself with a deep breath. "I know you're not death. Deaf. Fuck!"

A sputter of laughter leaked from Dream's mouth, so unexpected that Dream couldn't figure out why he laughed or what caused him to. Dream steadied himself as well. "Well... I'm not deaf or death... Dead."

"Yeah, uh... That's why it's a figure of speech."

"How...?

Cross spat out a bunch of sounds that showed his growing frustration. "GOD!! You're almost worse than Ink when it comes to this shit!"

Another shrink away. "Uh- sorry-"

"No! It-" Another steady breath. Another shake. Another take on recompositing his composure. "It's a figure of speech because you're not actually deaf! It's like... I-" Cross struggled to find the words.

Dream softly wondered something then shoved that thought away immediately.

"In the English language, there are, uhm, ways to show... Annoyance- I guess?" Cross saw Dream's continuously confused expression. "It's kinda like sarcasm or uhm... Metaphors!"

"Metaphors..."

"Yeah! No wait... Similes? Idioms?"

The confusion grew twice fold. 

"It's used to show words through... Emotions through words! Even if it's not literal! Don't... I... It's nothing to be taken literally! I know you're not literally deaf!"

The confusion grew tenfold. "Then why would you say it...?"

"...I-" Cross then glared at Dream. He could feel the frustration wave off of him strongly. "You stupid or something?"

Dream felt something hit him with those words. He stumbled a bit. "No." Dream said instantly, catching himself hung up on those feelings and words. "English isn't my first language."

Cross's eyes went black. His frustration stopped suddenly, replaced with another emotion. Shock.

"Oh..."

Regret. 

"Oh."

Guilt. 

Dream heard Cross curse at himself, louder than the other times he had done it under his breath. He looked over and saw Cross hitting himself on his head, Dream's soul seizing. 

"Don't hurt yourself!"

Cross's body slowly untensed. "...I wasn't."

"But you-"

Cross rolled his shoulders back. Adjusted the knife in the hand he hadn't raised this entire time. Adjusted his footing, boots colored black and white blending but also wildly contrasting against the snow beneath where he stood.

"So," Cross began with. Awkward tension bloomed. Dream shook ever so slightly. "What's your native language then?"

"I don't... I don't remember what it's called. Or many words from it."

Cross looked at him, a look in his eyes. "You illiterate or something?"

"I was stuck in stone for hundreds of years."

"Oh. Shit. Sorry. Forgot about... That..."

"It's okay. I don't really talk about it. It was really uneventful."

That look bleed into Dream's mind. The way Cross's voice wavered, but there was no annoyance or anger or frustration or pity weaved into it. 

Dream did a doubletake. Mentally. Physically.

Cross wavered to catch him if he fell.

"You were... Joking." Dream's words were slow. Understanding. Analyzing. He caught Cross's confusion this time. "When you were... You asking me if I was 'illiterate'... That was a joke."

"Uhm... Yeah."

Dream sat there. Silence. Pondering. But not? Understanding. It started to sink in. It started to make sense. It started to click...

And then it did.

"Oh!!" Dream's face grew with light. He got it now! He was ecstatic! It made sense! He didn't know how to explain it in words, and knew that if he tried he would fail even more than Cross unfortunately attempted to. But he got it now! It made sense!!!

Dream's gaze slowly turned to look at Cross. There was a soft smile on Cross's face, and his expression looked neutral, gentle. 

The word, the feeling associated with it, blinked into his mind immediately.

Love.

Dream's breath was gone.

"D-Dream...?"

"I... I need to go."

That look on Cross's face changed immediately. Dream knew those words. Bewilderment. Confusion.

Another one that took his breath.

Worry. 

Complicated emotions... Overcomplicated thoughts... Born from negative and positive... Ribbon... A bow of ever shifting colors...

Love.

He... No. Cross... No! It was because of Dream's aura. It was because of Dream! It had to be! It was because Dream had no control of his positive aura that Cross felt that, that it molded the word into Cross and mimicked it and fed into it. Dream knew how this would end. It always would end in the same way.

Obsession.

Dream stumbled away backwards, watching as Cross reached for him, wanting to love him, wanting to catch him, worrying about him. Not him... Not Dream himself... But the overwhelming positivity that would be gone and would reduce everything to nothing. Dream swiftly turned around, his feet finding his footing instinctively, and he felt himself breeze through the area, almost running, full of fear and this other emotion that was so dangerous for him to feel around a person who showed that sort of intensity when it came to him- no, not him. His aura!

Love.

Unconditional, untethered, uncontrolled love.

The word flipped. Another one, four letters, a more dangerous feeling. Simple in spelling, but overly complex to explain. Persisting no matter what, painful no matter what. Determined no matter what!

Hope.

"Dream!!"

No. No! NO! Dream felt himself choke on his breath and he kept running and running and jumping through infinite portals and sliding through worlds, always careful of avoiding any areas where he would be seen, where he didn't belong, where Ink would know he messed up a timeline-

Ink! In his mind, Dream formed a thought, a bubble, a concept. Something Ink talked about almost passionately, almost obsessively. A place, a state, a world, a pocket between.

Just as he thought he was about to hit solid ground, just as he thought he knew what and where he was going- a place he had never been himself- he felt something hard shove into his side, pushing him with a resounding thud he shouldn't have been able to make with his body.

For a while, he saw black. He heard nothing. Absolute silence. But he felt something strong, emotions, feelings. He was in a status he could not get out of, stuck, trapped, encased in stone. He couldn't do anything- couldn't speak and couldn't move and couldn't hear. But he could feel, and the feelings were intense, raw and untethered.

Hands grabbed him, warmth fueled him. Feelings awoke around him, encasing him, giving him feeling to his stiffened stone stature. He murmured a name, soft, one that fueled him with memories he had thought he'd forgotten.

Slowly, light filled his vision, and the warmth around him shifted to hold him steady as he fell from his suspended encasement...

Except he wasn't falling. He was already down on the ground with someone holding onto him, raw and untethered emotions leaking out, uncontrolled and filled with worry.

He let his body relax, his mind relax as the warmth filled in what he had missed out on for hundreds of years. He waited for the reassurance to open his eyes, that joy that he was okay, the joy that he was alive!

...It didn't come.

This... Pattern. This memory. It was a memory- they played out how they did. The feelings remained the same in the core, no matter how many feelings get mixed in between and recognized and get forgotten and fill in spaces that don't make sense. But this memory... It wasn't happening the way it was supposed to. The consistency was broken, interrupted. But there was one thing that hadn't changed.

The warmth... It stayed with him, wrapped around his limps that ached with a feeling very slowly returning to him. Those emotions and feelings... In the memory, they were all around him, and he could feel them and he could do nothing about it until that warmth touched him and freed him and held him.

As his breath steadied, he could sense those feelings weren't around him like they were in the memory. Rather, they were right next to him, against him, a solid source rather than thousands.

Dream choked. The warmth shifted.

His eyes sprung open without a prompt, nothing but white staring down at him.

Nothing like the memory. 

The warmth shifted again, and Dream caught onto a soft sound. He looked down, and immediately pushed the warmth away.

Cross flailed as Dream's sudden burst of energy and overpowering strength surpassed his. A small thud resonated.

"....Oww...."

Dream's eyes focused, sight slightly overwhelmed by the bright white peaking everywhere. The soft exclaim of pain drew forth a gentle sympathetic "sorry" from him almost automatically.

A sigh infused with a groan escaped with a shaking resolve. Dream's head snapped towards the source immediately.

"Jeez... Ugh... That hurt..."

Dream had lost count of how many times his body stiffened and froze. He wasn't even aware he thought he attempted keeping track until now. Which he didn't attempt to keep track, and wasn't aware he didn't keep track of.

A hand rose to his temple.

Cross lifted himself from the ground, which was absolutely nothing in context. Just white... Infinite white...

Dream's breath hitched in a way he tried to force it not to. His body shook in a way he tried to hard to control, but it just made his movements more intense and painful. He leaned over himself, that hand also shaking, fingers twitching, a claw threatening to form, and the more he refused it to, the more it did forcibly.

His body shook, wobbled, fought, collapsed, seized. 

His mind swarmed with colors, concepts, words, forms, feelings, and the more they mixed gruesomely the more he lost the feelings and the more he lost the colors and the more the forms blended and bled and the more the concepts could not make sense and the more the words grew to deaf ears. His other hand, stiff and tense, rose to his chest, clenching the clothing he barely registered was there, pressing his palm and a fingers deeper and deeper and deeper into the cloth until he could feel his form shake and reject and cry to him that the force was too much force and that if he didn't stop he would hurt this body he didn't chose to have originally. His fingers curled around, tightened, fingertips clawed out in almost clenching but also stabbing into the force he was putting into his chest, the only feeling he could feel, even if the words ran into nothing and the forms molded into things he didn't understand and did not want to look at no matter what was that he needed this feeling to stop. Whatever this feeling was, whatever he was feeling, whatever this could be and was going to be needed to stop and to do that he had only once ask only one answer only one plea-

Something snatched his arm, the one holding tight into his chest, and he cried out as his arm was forcibly stopped from going in further. He fought, grabbing control again, almost plunging his fingers through the fabric, through the vessel, through the rib cage, through the concept of physical self. 

A pull. A tug. This one unforgiving. This one unexpected. This one with the full force of everything. Mind, soul, body...

There was dead silence for a while.

Slowly Dream looked down at his chest.

No longer did he feel pain. No longer did everything hurt. No longer did he desperately wanted those pleas to be answered.

But he did notice something that brought him back to the current moment, crashing him down like a meteor.

His arm was gone.

As his senses slowly came back, he heard the soft breathing, rugged and uncontrolled and pained, above him. He saw a form standing over him, and the more he looked up, the more he saw intense eyes, and the more he felt those feelings rushing from them.

In one of the hands of the figure above him was his arm, the bones lazed and laxed due to the disconnection from it's vessel's source. Dream looked down again at his chest, then slowly to where his shoulder was, noticing the limb fabric trailing down lifeless against him and the somehow firm white floor beneath his legs.

His body stiffened once.

The form above him shifted.

Stiffed twice. Seized.

A swift movement, a blur.

Arms caught Dream before he plummeted down into the orbit. A soft grunt brought Dream back to the present moment again, and he was unsure if he somehow made that sound or if his companion had.

Com... pan...ion...?

The thought traced his mind again, a gentle brush stroking an empty canvas. 

He heard a voice, one he'd heard before, but it didn't seem to come from whomever had him in arms. He tried to focus, listen and see, but he couldn't focus and his body slumped more. Those arms shook as they grabbed onto him, but the strength stayed almost stubbornly, determined.

By instinct, he started to feel around him, but not by touch, but by what he could sense. He let the feelings flood him, registering the sources and where they came from.

There was one close but not close enough. Distant to not touch him but also close enough so he could hear the voice, which almost sounded instructional and oddly serious. Focusing on that form, there was something odd about it, as if trying to find those feelings within it was something almost impossible, as if there was something there that mimicked the feelings, but it was odd and not right and empty. Lifeless... Void even.

Quickly he shifted his sense to the form around him, that warmth coming back. Unlike the other one, the feelings coming from the one against him, who's arms he was being held by, were intense and almost everywhere. None of them were more intense than the other, but the intensity was so strong and fueled by something he didn't know and hadn't wanted to know and refused to know out of fear of others' safety that it stuck.

The silence around him was deafening, until he realized there was no actual silenced. He could hear breathing coming from the one holding him close, he could hear muttering and murmuring and random rambling and chaotic clattering of items from the other.

And then there was the third sound he heard. It felt all around him, but not at the same time. A comforting feeling, but also of an unknown amount and a concept that was far too hard to understand beyond what it was. A lack of something but a mixture of everything. A giant contradiction.

Suddenly, he heard a voice that was loud as a hand poked at at his form. Cold, unnerving. He shook involuntarily as if he was being studied, the warmth moving him away- an action that had prompted the voice to be loud in the first place.

"Hey! Lemme look at him!"

"You're making him uncomfortable." Grumbled the warmth against him, the warmth also now vibrating against his body.

"Uncomfortable!? I think he kinda needs that arm! I mean... Look at him! Just lemme get a goooood look so I can make sure I can pop this baby back in!"

The loud voice hurt his head. The lack of feelings made him seize. The second attempt of cold grasping at him. He felt the warmth hold him tighter, moving him away further.

"Stop." Another attempted grab. Another shift. "Dude- Stop!" Again. "D- Hey!" Once more. "INK!!"

The movement paused, and the warmth and tightness persisted. It won.

"I'm being serious Ink! I don't want him to end up hurting himself, or trying to again, for that matter..."

That third sound he heard, briefly before, spoke now. "Cross is right. Sorry Ink, but we need to take some precautions before we can make sure Dream is completely okay."

Silence. A stall. Then a huff.

"Hmph. Alright. Fine! You win! But... I think we should find somewhere else to go instead of the middle of nowhere."

"Are you just saying that because there's literally nothing here?" grumbled the warmth.

"...Maybe. But but but! Also because there is nothing here! There's no source of anything here, which from what I got written down here-" Shifting of fabric, then muttering. "AH! There we are.. Tuh tuh uhh... Oh okay cool!" A silence. Then a sniff. "...I think I remember Dream saying something about how being in areas that have a lot of natural positivity..."

"...Yes? What does that mean?"

"Hm? What?"

"What does that mean? What did Dream say?"

"...What did who say what now?"

"INK!!!" A soft noise slipped from his mouth, arms shifted, and the warmth's voice grew soft, a gentle apology. "Sorry."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

The third voice spoke. It sounded like a child, but the way the words carried and weaved and moved sounded like they knew too much and none at all. "Ink. You were mentioning something about Dream? How he said something about areas that have a lot of natural positivity and being in them?"

"...OH yeah!"

"What was it?" Patience ran through the third voice. Almost too much.

"I have no idea! I think I forgot."

Grumbled voice from the warmth returned, grumbling something but lacking everything the voice leaked out. No hate, no actual venom. Just worry and concern.

And another feeling.

Love.

At the thought, he shook, a great inhale racking his body. The arms loosened enough for him to be able to intake air into lungs that didn't exist, but that was gladly wanted.

"Huh? Oh cool. He's awake."

Light threatened his vision again as his eyes started to adjust, gentle and slow this time. He first caught sight of a face tackled with grey, black sockets staring down at him, hair almost the color of fine charcoal reaching down and touching his face. But there was no warmth, to the hair, yet all of the warmth at the same time.

Dream groaned. The concept made his head hurt.

Another face was slowly brought to his realization. Big eyes, expressive almost in an overwhelmingly sense, a face with expressions that also changed, but never settling quite right. Something lacking, something else pretending to be what is missing.

Another groan. He pulled his eyes away almost forcibly.

Then he noticed the arms holding him, warming him. Sleeves of black and white, tattered cloth that still found a way to hold it's shape. Something that was broken, imperfect, emotional and so painfully real that Dream almost wanted to look at the others again.

The voice that rumbled through the warmth got him to pay attention again. "Hey. You doing okay now?"

A soft sound tickled his throat. He tried to open his mouth, but instead his head thunked forward against the warmth's closest shoulder.

"Dream?" A soft shake. Worrying. Filled with concern. "Dream, it's Cross."

That name sounded sickeningly familiar. ".....c....."

A sigh of relief, the warmth melting against his body even as he was being held, and it made him move closer to the warmth even more. 

It's Cross.

The voice echoed in his mind. Again, and again. Soft at first, then quickly getting abrupt, and louder and louder, until the voice morphed and shaped and contortioned into something that was originally not it's own.

His eyes flared open, body raising up, a loud gasp echoing out of his mouth. "Cross!"

His body heaved. Voice hanging in the air. Something shifted in the corner, and even though his vision hadn't settled yet, his head still snapped towards it.

A gentle sound of a mug being placed onto a hard surface. "You called?"

"....w...." Dream's breathing regulated quicker than he thought it would, his eyes slowly allowing everything to take form. The first thing he saw almost too clearly was the shape in the chair a little ways away, sitting in a way that would look unnerving to the untrained eye, but was relaxed and cautious and open.

Dream blinked.

"...ww...."

A hand waved at him. A calm smile, laced with so many different feelings that did not overpower each other. There was tranquility, peace, hope, worry, but also that one that always made Dream shiver.

Love.

...But he didn't shiver. He didn't know why. Not at that moment at least.

".www...." 

"Hey Dream." Cross's hand, still a little blurry, was in the air, suspended in the most friendly manner he had seen him give anyone in a long time.

Dream looked at him, letting his eyes settle more and more. He noticed a furrow form in Cross's expression. 

"Hey, don't leave me hanging. C'mon!"

"W..w..h..."

Oh, wait. He knew this one. It was a joke!

He slowly rose his hand, until he realized he couldn't. Didn't. Hadn't.

His gaze drifted down.

...Where was his arm?

Cross's voice returning snapped Dream to look at him again. "Oh uh... Sorry about that. Had to disarm you. Uh-" He reached for the mug and sipped on it before placing it down on the surface again. His eyes seemed to grim just slightly, but the joking part of his voice was still there. "It was for your own good."

"..wh...a...t...?"

"Hm!" Cross reached for the mug, and, before he could sip from it, lightly gestured it to Dream. "Want some?"

Silence.

"It's uh... It's tea."

A very slow head bob. Cross took that as an invitation and got up from the chair, one hand underneath the mug to cradle it for stability, the other hand with fingers holding the handle. He walked over to Dream and rose the mug towards his mouth, which Dream very slowly took from, almost greedily.

"Y'know what?" Cross began as he continued to further lift the mug towards Dream's mouth as he drank. "I uh... I don't think this is tea."

A soft pause.

"I... I actually don't know what this is."

Dream's mouth, full of whatever this warm, pleasant, hopefully edible liquid was, forced itself closed. His eyes shifted to look at Cross, who had put the mug to his own mouth.

"Yeah, uh- I have no idea."

Wait... Dream had... Drank from that...

Wait... Cross had... Drank from that...

"It's pretty good though."

Dream coughed, liquid slipping down his throat. Suddenly, he remembered he didn't NEED to drink anything to live. Why... Was he...? He coughed again, a bit of a burning sensation as more liquid escaped down his throat. He looked at Cross again as he drank from the mug that they... had... shared?

Suddenly, Dream lunched forwards and the remaining mystery liquid exploded from his mouth.

Cross jumped immediately, the mug clasped in his hands with one on the bottom and one on top. 

"Holy cra... Dream???"

A struggled cough, one that did not need to happen, as he did not need to drink, but that drink was good, and he did, and also Cross offered and that was nice and kind and so he took the offer and now he had the image of Cross drinking from a mug filled with delicious mysterious liquid that he shared with Dream...

Dream's body shook.

Cross cursed as he sat the mug down and carefully stepped towards Dream.

His body stopped shaking.

Cross blinked, still in a stance. "...You good?"

"...yea..h..." His voice was weak and soft and pitiful and rough, but it seemed to be enough for Cross as he grabbed that mug and stood besides him again.

Another sip broke the silence before it began. Dream looked over at him slowly, liquid dripping down his mouth. Cross caught his eyes and offered the mug again. Dream turned his head away, refused, and then something strange happened.

Cross seemed okay with the rejection. He shrugged and drank the liquid more. Dream couldn't sense anything about this react that he would have sensed in the past with everyone else. It was almost neutral, but unforcedly so.

There must have been a look on Dream's face because Cross scanned it a little too quickly for comfort. Dream turned away again.

"Sorry, I'm not very good at head turning charades." Another layer of confusion, until the recognition that it was a joke. "Anyways, I think I'm pretty okay with facial features. Had a lot of practice with all these different ones I've been seeing here. The Omega Timeline has almost too many... Guess that's what I meant when it feels unnerving." His joke slowly slipped away, but it was timed perfectly, intentional. "Too many faces that look similar to yours and those you knew that were once around you... At this point you would hope to get used to it."

Dream saw his hand tightened around the mug.

"It.... d...does...n..t...."

"Hm. You're right. I guess it's just always going to be unnerving, now matter how many copies there are of you and friends and family you had. It's like... They're not you, but they are you? What do you call that?"

Dream knew this word. Starting to understand it more and more the way it came up all the time naturally behind the seams. "C...co...con...contra... contrad....ict..ory.."

"Yeah. That seems to fit." Another sip, this one the smallest one Dream saw him take before Cross put all his attention on Dream. "Anyways, how are you doing?"

"C... I... ww...." 

Cross saw the expression Dream did not mean to use, and he sighed. "Confused? Yeah, me too. I, uh, have no idea what happened, but I'm glad you're still here!"

"....is...."

"Hm?"

"..am...is.... can...." Cross watched him as Dream slowly rose his hand, the one he still had attached to his body, and placed it against his chest. There was a pause from both of them, and Dream could sense wary and caution from Cross, as well as worry and both of those four letter words. That was all the confirmation he needed.

"You good?" Cross asked.

Dream's head, very slowly, bobbed as he lowered his arm back to his side. He then realized he was on a bed, which should've been the first thing he noticed, but it wasn't.

An awkward cough. Dream turned to face Cross. He cleared his throat with a resounding "sorry". No response from Dream.

"... Anyways. Uh- sorry for your arm." A loose shrug was the only answer Cross got at the moment. "Cool, no hard feelings there. Uhm... We were going to take you somewhere with a lot of positive energy for something, but Ink didn't remember what that 'something' was and he didn't know of any universes with 'positive energy', so we just settled with the Omega Timeline." Before Dream could give a clear response of any kind, Cross put a hand on the mattress, stupidly close to Dream. Either he didn't care his hand was that close, didn't realize it or was keeping a distance for respect of Dream himself wasn't something Dream was particularly clear in deciphering. Cross continued, "Yeah I know the Omega Timeline has some jerk wads that are like, completely obsessed with you or something-" A flinch from Dream caused Cross to reel it back in. "-But there's plenty of positive energy here... I-I think."

Dream made a little sound, soft as he sensed the energy. Cross was right, there was plenty of positivity, and came in gentle waves, not typically overbearing like it usually felt. It felt relaxing. He slowly slumped against the pillows he now noted laid behind his head.

"There's... People do know you're here." Cross's voice was faint as his head turned away from Dream's view. "A lot of them demanded to see you almost immediately. You've got quite a designated fanbase! ...Not funny? Sorry. Anyways, we had to keep a lot of people away from you, especially the ones who seemed almost too insistent on seeing you. Like, I don't know to put it... But I just had this faint something that told me to make sure you were kept away from as many of those obsessed fans of yours as possible. I... Call it a hunch, but I think it would hurt you both too much to be able to deal with them seeing you like this and the negative emotions they'll feel after or something...."

Dream wanted to show off a particular expression. Calm clarity. Soft, yet demanding reassurance. But all he got as a reaction from Cross from what he displayed was a small laugh.

"Don't look so shocked! I had to get better at expressions and stuff... I mean, royal guard stuff yeah, that was kind of important, but the more people I'm starting to meet, uncanny valley or not, it really shows that some people are just so ass at expressions. They tend to hide a lot of what they actually feel in fear of how others will feel."

Absolute dead silence from Dream.

"...Shit. Sorry. Did I... Did I read you like a book?"

Dream looked away.

Cross didn't say anymore for a while. In fact, Dream noted this was the most Cross had probably willingly and casually shared, at least in all of the interactions they had together. It was only after Dream had noticed Cross had finished the drink cupped in his mug that he stretched a bit, a content expression.

"Well, I should probably go. Uh... Ink's got something he wanted to talk to me about-"

Cross was about halfway across the room from Dream's bed before his sentence was cut.

"...Dream?"

Dream had reached over, twisted himself slightly and grabbed Cross's closest wrist with his only remaining hand. The two were like that for a bit, until Dream did something he never thought he would never be able to do.

"...s..ta....y...."

Cross blinked. Dream cringed. The thought of asking someone to stay was something Dream wasn't sure he would ever actually do. People got too attached to him, so them tugging him close was bound to happen, and they hardly needed to think about it or sit with the emotions. It was immediate. It was obsession. To keep him close and to never let him go.

He hadn't sensed anything uncomfortable from Cross when he was about to leave. Sure, there were things left unsaid, but the feelings were there. Cross was happy, but he seemed to somehow know that it was his happiness, his thoughts, his reactions, and his words that chose what he was doing and not some uncontrollable positive aura from a sort of immortal look-alike clone of himself. 

Dream found himself confused about this the most. He would leave people for their own safety. He would never demand them to do anything, as them for more than what they were willing to give him. Which, unfortunately, even when he tried his best to deny kindly, tended to be everything. He never asked for himself, grabbed for himself... He shrank away. He felt almost too selfish, and he knew selfishness was normal, but Dream wasn't sure if this sort of selfishness was normal. To reach out and grab someone who's choosing to leave, choosing to smile, who had given him kindness even when he ran and was afraid of the kindness turning into obsession like it typically could have.

There was a bound of curiosity when it came to Cross, especially right here and now. There was worry and concern, and it almost went to a selfish domain. Worry that Cross wasn't going to come back, worry that Cross was hurt by him, worry that Cross hated him for making him feel emotions that were both out of their control. There was concern that Cross wasn't going to talk to him again, that Cross hated Dream for when he saved him, and concern that maybe Cross wouldn't save Dream in return when he also needed it or want it.

"You're a... Good person Dream."

He shrank away more at Cross's words. Words he'd heard a lot, almost too much.

"You're kind. You got a good heart. You're selfless... You hate hurting others."

Dream waited for the next predicable painful spew of words.

"...But you're also good at hurting yourself too."

Slowly, Dream lifted his head to look at him, but then his head was shot back with a flick of his forehead. When Dream got his vision back, he looked up at Cross again and saw something he didn't want to see but couldn't stop looking at.

That same smile Dream himself gave everyone.

That same smile Dream shared with everyone.

That same smile Dream plastered on his face.

It was now on Cross's face.

The "Everything is going to be okay" smile.

And, in every piece of sincerity had in Dream's body, he could very confidently say Cross wore it better than Dream ever could anymore. Cross's felt real, genuine, peaceful, and hopeful. There was also that four letter word Dream used to shiver at. 

There was love.

Dream choked. He felt his eyes water, burn, vision blurring.

"Remember when you told me to be kind to myself?"

Dream nodded slowly, the tears boiling up. Normally he would escape to a different universe and silently cry there, but right now he had a feeling Cross didn't really want Dream to be alone right now doing that.

"Well, I think it's pretty shitty that you're not doing that."

Dream's shoulders shook. He told himself to hold the tears.

"...I think that if you'd wanna be a good pacifist, you have to be nice to others and yourself. Or just a pacifist at all..."

Dream tried to swallow his sadness, morph it into the smile he used, morph it until the aura around him was overwhelmingly positive until he hurt again.

But then he looked back at Cross.

That smile.

Soft eyes.

Emotions that settled, that didn't fight, that were one almost unintentionally and effortlessly.

That love. Unconditional, untethered, uncontrolled love.

Tears spilled down Dream's eyes. He was gone completely, his fingers tightening around Cross's wrist. He could rip Dream away, he could tell Dream he was a fake, he could tell Dream how manipulative he was...

But he didn't. That made Dream cry harder.

"...It's been a while since someone just decided to stay because you both want it, hm?" He moved to stand next to Dream again. "It's... been a while since you didn't feel like shit for asking for someone to stay and wanting it yourself, and being able to have someone who would do the same for you..."

Cross slowly lifted himself up on that bed, Dream moving instinctively not to move away from him, but to give him space.

It was a choice they both wanted. 

Cross sat there on the edge of the mattress, staying not just because Dream wanted him to, but because he also wanted it. It was mutual. It was both of them. 

Those feelings that overcomplicated things? Those thought that did the same thing? Yeah, they still overcomplicated everything. But, right now, Dream had a sense of understanding that this feeling, these thoughts, didn't need to be overly complicated if they just happened. If he was just okay with it happening...

That smile Cross had on his face? The "Everything is going to be okay" smile. Dream had longed for someone to look at him with a smile like that again. To be able to tell him that and to mean it without any lack of sincerity. 

Now that he had that, Dream didn't know what to feel. He didn't know what to do.

But he did know something, and he felt something.

Everything was going to be okay.

Because it was.

Even if for this moment, everything was okay.

And Dream didn't want anything else right now.