Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Nightmare had done a lot of thinking after his impromptu session with Style. 

She'd asked him a question that..he couldn't answer. She'd asked if demons cared - not if they could care, but only if they would. Most people would have said no. Of course demons didn't care about others; they were demons! 

But..Nightmare was a demon, too, wasn't he? He chose to care about others, even if it was only a very small handful of people. He did care. He cared about Dream, especially. But..evil incarnate wouldn't have cared about Dream. If Nightmare was, how did he care? Why did he care?

And then there was Dream. Style had said he'd been violent, resistant, and angry during this time here, right after asking Nightmare if Dream was positivity incarnate, the opposite of Nightmare. And, sure, Nightmare had changed his brother - a lot - but..Dream had to have still been good. He was good; Nightmare was evil. Had that changed? Nightmare couldn't see his brother to see for himself, leaving his only reference..him. Nightmare hadn't done anything particularly evil since he'd come here, but that was just because he was thinking logically; why would he have wanted to lose privileges just for the sake of being evil? That didn't make sense. It didn't mean he wasn't a bad person - just that he was taking a break from it.

But..evil incarnate didn't take breaks. Evil incarnate wouldn't have cared; it would have been evil for the sake of it because that was what it did. A demon would have only wanted to hurt others, to make everyone else's lives miserable, because that was just what demons did. But Nightmare hadn't, leaving the question..

What was Nightmare, if not a demon?

He'd pondered that for a while. For the few days after that session, Nightmare hadn't been able to focus on anything but that one question. He had been unable to read a single page of a story or even try to escape the looming question; it was too great. Again and again, he'd tried to deny the possibility that he wasn't just evil, but every time, his logic failed him. He couldn't find a good enough excuse. Nightmare was a bad person - one of the worst! He had tortured, killed, and harmed thousands of people in his time, and he had the LV to prove it! He'd wanted to conquer the entire multiverse! He wanted everyone to suffer, just like he'd suffered so much in his life! But..

But that wasn't all he was. 

Nightmare enjoyed reading. He liked stories, and he even had his own to share, although he'd never told them; it was just that no one wanted to hear them. Nightmare cared about his brother; Dream was the light of his life, and he wanted only the best for his little brother. Despite everything, Nightmare wasn't all bad. He was just bad enough that he didn't notice the good. Nobody outside of Dream really noticed the good - nobody except Style. 

And, so, when Nightmare's assigned therapy session the following week had come up, Nightmare had really had a lot to talk about. He'd spoken more about his past, detailing how he'd come to the conclusion that had guided his life for centuries - the determination that he was negativity incarnate - and he finally realized what a stupid notion that was. At the time, it had been a way to motivate himself to continue to survive and get stronger; now, it was just a false belief that had ruined his life. 

Nightmare hadn't had to continue on his path of darkness when the modern era had dawned on the multiverse; no one had forced him to hurt and kill once it was no longer life or death. Despite that, he had chosen not to change with the world, and now he was facing the consequences of his actions. It all seemed so clear, looking back. When Ink had taken up his role as the Protector, Nightmare could have sought his assistance instead of running from him at every opportunity. When the Omega Timeline had been created, he could have tried to put his past behind him and live a normal life again. When Dream had broken free from his stone prison, Nightmare could have put aside his mixed emotions and just embraced the return of his brother. When Nightmare had captured his brother, he could have tried to see Dream's side of things. Nightmare had been presented with opportunity after opportunity to change, and he'd refused. 

Yet, here was another chance - a chance he didn't deserve.

Nightmare took it.

Although she hadn't had to, Style had helped Nightmare sign up for a book club. Just one - he was starting small. He'd..missed the first meeting. He hadn't wanted to miss it, but, when the time had come to go, he'd suddenly felt very anxious! Style had suggested that Nightmare explore his emotions more; although he knew a lot about negative emotions (he was their guardian, after all), he had spent so long suppressing many of them, such as his anxiety. Style wanted Nightmare to focus on his emotions at certain times, and she wanted him to listen to them, especially if he would have ignored them before. And..listening to his anxiety had left Nightmare sitting in his cell until it was too late to go. He didn't think he'd ever before been as embarrassed as he was during the next session when Style had asked how it had gone. Embarrassment..another emotion Nightmare typically suppressed. Now that he was "getting more in-tune" with his emotions, Nightmare had learned that he could blush; he hated it. It was the worst thing ever, and Nightmare wanted to erase the ability for him to be embarrassed ever again to avoid it at all costs.

But..Style believed that this was important, and, so, Nightmare wouldn't try to suppress his embarrassment. Unless he was anywhere other than Style's office, of course; that was the only place he'd be caught dead with a blush. That was his safe space. 

It felt nice to have a safe space.

The following week, when the book club had met again, Nightmare had spent the better part of that day preparing himself mentally for the meeting, and when the time came, he'd attended the meeting. He'd been the second to last person to arrive - not the last, no embarrassment warranted - and he'd, admittedly, gotten a rather cold reception. No one spoke to him; they were likely too afraid to try. Nightmare's reputation always preceded him; it had used to be a warning to stay back, but now, it was a bit of a hindrance, especially since he was too anxious to speak, either. Nevertheless, he'd awkwardly sat at the table, and the rest of the group had begun to speak amongst themselves. When the last member had arrived and the meeting began, Nightmare had been pleased to know that the book the group were discussing was one he'd read rather recently on his own; if he wanted, he could participate. Unfortunately, his anxiety had dissuaded him at seemingly every turn. Fortunately, he had strong enough opinions to override that.

"What are you talking about?" He'd asked, in the middle of the group's discussion. "The 'romance' sucked; anyone with a brain could see that."

"..I thought it was good?" Someone else had squeaked.

"Half the compliments were about hair." Nightmare had deadpanned. "Hair is not that interesting. I've seen better romance in books about space pirates."

"..Was that, uh, that one series that started with political-" Someone else had been cut off.

"Yes!" Nightmare had nodded. "You read that, too? It's simply divine; it's too bad the author dies in every AU after finishing the series."

"I know, right? It's so unfair!" 

And just like that, Nightmare had integrated himself into the group. Once he'd spoken and made himself into an approachable figure, the others in the group had begun to see him as more of an aquaintance instead of a terrifying harbinger of doom! They included him in their discussions, and he did his best to..be himself.

He hadn't been "himself" since he'd been a child, and when he had, he'd been told it was wrong. The villagers and Dream had told him as much; he'd believed it for a long time, too. Then he'd been introduced to the multiverse, and being himself simply wouldn't have cut it back then..but now, things were different. Nightmare was trying to be himself again, but instead of outcasting him, the other members of the book club..didn't seem to mind? By the end of the meeting, Nightmare believed he'd come off as blunt and sarcastic, but when it was time to wrap things up, a couple of the others came over to him, simply to mention that he wasn't like they'd imagined him. They thought he'd have been meaner; they thought he would have ruined their little club. Instead, he'd made things more interesting. They told him, to his face, that he wasn't the evil tyrant that they'd thought he'd be, and for once.. 

Nightmare found that he didn't actually mind it. 

By the next meeting, Nightmare had been all-too-happy to attend; he'd had some thoughts about the book that week, too. And no one minded it; no one thought he was a nuisance. They started discourses about his thoughts, with some of the members agreeing with him and others making their differing opinions known. He didn't lash out when others disagreed with him, instesd listening and defending his points, but staying open; he'd even managed to have his own opinions swayed by an explanation or two. 

And it felt so good. 

Nightmare felt good. 

With his newfound acquaintances, he began to be more open to things in general. He would sometimes spend time with the others during free times - especially during outdoor time, when he couldn't get his hands on a book - and he sat at a table with them during lunch. He laughed at jokes, and he freaked them out with stories from his past.

"Oh, I could totally take it on!" One of his acquaintances rolled their eyes. 

"You could not take on a Prunsel." Nightmare chuckled. "I can't even. I'm not sure Ink could."

"What do they do anyway?" Someone else asked.

"Well, you know how you can feel the magic inside you? They can manipulate it, while it is inside you; it feels like you're a chew toy, and it hurts worse than anything else! And that's just one thing they can do; it's ridiculous! I'd rather face..Error. Honestly. Error at full power with bloodlust."

"Man, at least he'd kill you!" Someone laughed.

"He'd certainly try."

Nightmare, for once, felt like a normal person. It was something he'd wanted so much as a child, something he'd never been able to attain..until now. Now, Nightmare felt normal. He fit in. He was still a horrible person who had done horrible things, but he was having moments in which he was allowed to put that behind him for a little while. 

He didn't know if he could move on fully, though. He didn't think he could. Not if he ever went out into the..

Well..Ink had put his past behind him, hadn't he? He'd done it so well that most people in the multiverse nowadays didn't even know that he'd ever done anything wrong. Could Nightmare get to that point one day? Was it possible?

"With all the progress you've made, Nightmare, I believe that you can do whatever you put your mind to." Style encouraged. "You deserve a second chance, especially after all you've been through."

"Deserving one doesn't mean I'll get one." Nightmare sighed. "If no one but you thinks that, then I won't."

"..Well, hey. Soon, you're going to have your six month check-in. I'm not really supposed to tell you about that, but I'm going to anyway. Every six months, each inmate here has a check-in, with the dates lining up with the date they were imprisoned. For regular prisoners, they'll just have a sort of 'report card' showing their progress, what they've done, and if they're eligible for an early release based on that. For you - and your brother - it's going to be a little different. Every six months, your check-ins will be the determining factor for if you're ready to be released at all. I won't lie to you; there's no way you're going to be leaving this place after this check-in, and not for the first few, even if you do deserve it - even if you haf a perfect record here and had done nothing wrong. They want to keep both of you here for a solid minimum of five years..but after that, they'll start taking things into consideration. I'm only telling you this because they won't; they will tell you that you're eligible to be freed from the start, because they want you to behave. But..I believe that you should choose how you act based on what you want, rather than what you think others want, because that's something you struggle with."

"..." Nightmare nodded. "I see. I..understand."

"However, there is a lot you will be able to do regarding this check-in. Typically, after six months, inmates are allowed certain special privileges, if they've behaved well. And, since you've had only very few incidents, I believe you should be eligible for that. There are things like making your own clubs for things, as well as being allowed a wider range of things to do in your free time - things that involve machinery and the like, allowing you more responsibility. There's also a few programs that set you up for potential work opportunities when you get out. Would you be interested in any of that? I know there's more; I could get a list, if you'd like?"

Nightmare considered it. "..I suppose, if I'm going to be a 'normal' person..what type of work would that be?"

"Oh, there's plenty of options!" Style smiled. "We do offer a wide variety of job opportunities here, although the pay is substandard, since this is prison. For some of them, there are weekly classes, with others having biweekly ones - it really depends on what you're interested in. There are a bunch of things you can learn here, from accounting to trade work! I might have a full document of everything we offer in my desk - one sec."

Style started to look through her desk, rifling through the dozens of files she had on-hand. Nightmare wondered if this was for him; would he be..good, if he ever became a normal person? Would regular life change him? What if it didn't? What if his old instincts took over the moment he left the prison and he started over again? What if he lost all his progress? Would he ever get it back? If he relapsed, they would never let him out of here again; he knew that much. But..what if they never let him out, anyway? What if they planned to just keep him here forever, no matter what he did? They might have told Style five years, but they could have lied to her. And even if they hadn't, nothing was stopping them from getting cold feet every six months. Nightmare didn't want to spend eternity in here! He was just finding out that he didn't have to be entirely evil! He had so much to learn, but what was the point if he would never leave this place? He-

"Nightmare?" Style said his name. "Hey, you okay? You looked like you were a little zoned out, there."

Nightmare's vision refocused onto one of the fish in the tank in front of him, and he nodded slowly. "Sorry. I guess I did. I..I mean I was."

"That's okay. Did I say something wrong? Something to take note of?"

"..What if they never let me leave?" Nightmare voiced his concern; this was the only place he felt comfortable enough to do something like that. "There's nothing keeping them from doing that."

"Well.." Style sighed. "The thought is definitely a worry, I'll admit; I'm not going to pretend it isn't. Though, as your therapist, those in charge of making that decision will have to take my words into account - at least listen to them - and I will do everything in my power to give you a proper representation before them. However, this is a topic that you may want to talk about; can you pinpoint exact areas of fear or discomfort related to that subject?"

"..Rumors." Nightmare replied. "Legends. The longer I stay here, the more fiction may be mixed in with truth. People..may start to think that I was worse than I really am. And I have done horrible things - I know that - but I've heard rumors about myself that make me out to be even worse. I used to regard them as protection; they made people afraid to mess with me. But now, they don't do me any good - the opposite, actually."

"I understand." Style nodded. "That's a very valid fear, and it's not one that is easily assuaged. The only thing I can recommend is to, perhaps, try building a reputation here. Peers can also be approached to give thoughts regarding you for your check-ins, and they can deny false rumors once they are released, too. But, of course, there is no need to take something like that fast. You're doing well, Nightmare; try not to let fears bring you down. And, in hopes of getting your spirits up, here's that document; it has every work-related service we provide, and it has helped many an inmate leave on a steady foundation."

"Thank you."

Nightmare accepted the document, flipping through the pages with a hint of curiosity. There were a lot of options, here. He knew he couldn't do anything that put him in the public eye, though; that would have only been uncomfortable for everyone involved. Perhaps something less noticeable..something in the background. 

He'd figure it out.

When the day of his six month check-in arrived, Nightmare was ready. Directly after breakfast, he was taken to a room he'd never been inside before: a small meeting room, where he sat on one side of the table, and several others sat on the other. The several others, of course, included Core Frisk and Ink, and Nightmare had a feeling that they would do most of the speaking. Noticeably, Style wasn't present; perhaps she wasn't allowed to be. 

"Well, it's been six months, Nightmare." Ink informed, looking at a file. "Your record here is..surprising. You broke one person's jaw, and that's it for serious offenses - impressive, I guess?"

"It's certainly something." Core Frisk followed up. "How have you adjusted to life here? We've heard that you've joined a book club, and the other members seem to like you; that's good news! Do you like them, too?"

"They're fine.." Nightmare replied, feeling rather unsure of what to say, here; he had expected the others to talk at him, not to include him..

"Is there anything about life here that you don't like? Anything that might be able to be changed to better help you adapt?"

"..A larger selection of books would be nice, but I doubt you'd actually change something for me if I asked." Nightmare decided to be himself - his sarcastic, blunt self.

"Would you change Blue back to normal for us if we asked?" Ink questioned, his voice low.

"I don't think you trust me enough to let me try."

"..You're right. We don't. I don't trust you, Nightmare. You're just playing nice so we'll cut you a break."

"Well, if you're going to be like that, it's rather hypocritical for you, of all people, to say I'm 'playing nice,' isn't it? But I suppose the Protector of the Multiverse can get away with whatever he wants, can't he?"

"Nightmare." Core Frisk sighed. "This isn't supposed to be a confrontation."

"Not a confrontation for Ink, you mean."

"That isn't what I meant. I-"

"No, you're right." Nightmare decided to end this line of discussion. "I'm not being cooperative; I get it. I just don't like you. Ink is a hypocrite, and you're just..too much. I'll try to get through this peaceably..for my own sake."

Core Frisk blinked, before letting out a hum. "Um..well, uh..okay. That works. Thank you for your efforts."

"...You're welcome. Can we get down to business, though? I don't want to spend more time in this room than I have to."

"Of course. Back to the question from before, I think we could probably arrange to get some new books in the library. You've been mostly well-behaved, and if you really want that, I don't see any reason to deny you. Speaking of behavior, how is your therapy going? Do you like your therapist? I understand that you've made several unscheduled visits of your own volition; that's good to see."

"..She's nice." Nightmare replied, quietly. "It's going well."

"Are you comfortable with her? No bad experiences? Any wishes for someone else?"

"No, I'm comfortable." Nightmare assured; he supposed this was why Style wasn't here. "She's..been a great help."

Core Frisk smiled. "That's good to hear. You sound..a lot less..um.."

Nightmare sighed. "Less insane? Yes, I believe that's the entire point of those therapy sessions, isn't it? I've been through a lot in the past half a year, all right?"

Core Frisk nodded. "I can see that. It's a nice thing to see, really."

"..What's next on your list of talking points?"

The rest of the check-in wasn't too important. There was a small talk about the incident involving that Alphys, an explanation of the prison's job opportunities that Nightmare wasn't supposed to have known about before this (he believed he did a wonderful job pretending he hadn't known), and a few more minor points regarding Nightmare's life here. Ultimately, the meeting took about an hour, and by the time it was ready to wrap up, Nightmare was definitely ready to go..after he asked a question.

"..Can you tell me anything about Dream?" He asked, as those across from him had started to stand.

"No." Ink instantly denied. "Haven't you done enough to him?"

"..I suppose I have, haven't I?" Nightmare sighed. "And for that..I apologize. I was a fool."

Nightmare left the room before anyone else could respond; he didn't want to stick around for the inevitable accusations of his insincerity. 

They wouldn't believe that he was genuine.

Six months! 

Dream was ready; he was so ready! Today, he was going to sweet-talk his way into seeing Nighty again! He knew that the matter would be brought up during his six month check-in - if not by the others present, then by himself! He'd been good; he'd been a perfect angel since he'd gotten enough attention to get himself a chance at seeing his brother again! He'd worked his way up to getting privileges again, avoided every type of confrontation, and even befriended a couple dozen of his fellow inmates to vouch for him! It had been a cinch, after joining a few different clubs! He knew how to make people like him; it wasn't hard at all. In fact, it had been easy. He was going to see Nighty soon; he was sure of it. He just had to wait for them to call him. Waiting was so hard when there was this much anticipation, though; Dream just wanted it to happen already! But at least he could distract himself; he had "friends" to talk to, after all! Nighty might have been the better actor of the two overall, but Dream had a knack for appearing happy no matter what was going on; it had been easy to put the mask back on, even after a couple years out of practice.

"I heard that one of the guards dropped a set of keys in the gym, and somebody picked 'em up." Someone at the breakfast table mentioned, keeping names out for anonymity.

"Ooh, what were the keys for?" Dream inquired. 

"That's the best part! Bet you can't guess!"

"Janitor's closet?" Somebody guessed.

"Car keys, I bet." Another input.

"Uhh, were they for a vault of some kind?" Dream inquired.

"No, no, and no!" The first person grinned. "They were for the vending machines in the guard's breakroom!"

Several quiet gasps came from the inmates; that was tantamount to finding buried treasure, in this place!

"Yeah, but be quiet about it; I don't think the guards know yet, so don't drop any hints." The first added. "If all goes well, we could be eating good in a few days.."

"What do you think's in there?" Someone asked.

"Oh, let me think.." Dream had been in the breakrooms here before. "On this side of the prison, they've got a bunch of different flavors of chisps, cinnamon rolls, and a ton of candy. Soda, juice, and iced tea, too. It's too bad we aren't on the other side; they have cookies."

"Aw, what a day to be on the wrong side of jail." Someone whined.

"Well, the other side doesn't have keys to the vending machines." Another reminded. "We do."

"True." Dream shrugged. "Cookies, though."

"Wish we got cookies." Somebody yearned.

"I call dibs on a cinnamon roll." Dream decided to say.

"Oh, no way!"

The rest of breakfast passed quickly, with the table somehow keeping the information away from the guards' ears; that was nice. Dream was looking forward to seeing the spoils of that endeavor if it succeeded..and if the person responsible was willing enough to share. Dream could probably sweet-talk himself something, if not. After breakfast, he had to go back to his cell, where waiting was just a little bit harder. Nighty was probably having his six month check-in today, too. Were they doing his before Dream's? Dream wondered how Nightmare was doing; he had no clue. He hadn't heard a word about Nightmare, that he remembered; he had no way of knowing how Nighty was. Maybe he was resisting this life just as much as Dream had, trying to do anything and everything to see his brother again. Or..maybe this place was breaking his poor brother down. What would he do, if he found Nightmare..content? What if they'd broken his brother and pieced him back together the way they wanted him? What if they'd brainwashed him?

Dream needed to see his brother.

About an hour and fifteen minutes after breakfast ended, it was time. A couple guards showed up at Dream's door to guide him to a meeting room, and when he arrived, he sat down across from the others present. Others who included..Ink and Core Frisk.

"Why are you here, Frisk?" Dream asked, genuinely a little confused. "You don't work here."

"..Ink asked me to." Frisk admitted. "He didn't trust himself alone."

"..I see." Dream didn't spare Ink a glance. "Well, I did what you asked me to do."

"We know. You've been quite behaved since your incident."

"Can I see him, then?"

"..Let's get the rest of this out of the way first."

Dream sighed. "The therapist is fine, I already know about the added privileges after six months, and I understand the error of my past violent ways. Is there anything else we need to talk about?"

"..How is life? Is everything okay, in here? Does anything impede your peace of mind in any way?"

Dream paused for a moment at that. "Admittedly..it's cold. This place is cold; I'm always cold here."

"Oh.." Ink spoke, and Dream decided to look his way, just this once. "Uh, we can fix that. I'm sorry about that; I should have remembered."

Dream wanted to make a remark about how it would have been a miracle if Ink did remember, since he didn't seem to care about Dream that much in the first place, but he held back. He didn't need to risk his meeting with Nighty. 

"It's fine; I'm used to being cold." Dream shrugged. "It's just the way I am."

Nighty had never let Dream get cold.

"We'll get some heating in your cell." Ink assured. "We..should have thought about that."

"..Thank you." Dream nodded softly, before gaining a slightly less-confident posture. "That..that would make life a lot easier.."

And, now..it was time to secure that meeting.

"Glad we can help." Ink smiled. "Is there anything else?"

"..N-no.." Dream's voice wavered, and he started to think about the worst times of his life: the stone prison, the fights against his brother, and the betrayals of all his closest friends; looking at Ink made it so easy to conjure tears. 

"Dream?" Ink frowned. "Are you..you're crying.."

"It's..i-it's so hard here.." Dream trembled; how could they refuse his simple request to see his brother when he was clearly so distraught? "It's so lonely, Ink.."

"Hey, Dream, it's.." Frisk didn't know what to say. "You're.."

"I-I just wanted t-to see him again.." Dream curled in on himself as the sobs began, wrapping his arms around his ribcage in the process. "I'm s-sorry.."

"Dream.." Ink couldn't come over to offer a hug; he knew he wasn't welcome to do that anymore.

Dream just cried. He cried for as long as he could force the tears to come, occasionally saying something that he just knew would make everyone across the table feel sorry for him. No one tried to comfort him, though; they couldn't. When he finally ran out of tears and composed himself, the check-in continued, although it was handled a little more gently now. Dream didn't have to say too much; no one expected him to. He "promised" to bring this up during his next therapy session, only to convince the others that he was interested in "healing," but he wouldn't, because he wasn't. All he cared about was seeing Nighty again, and by the end of the check-in, he was certain that he would have his wish.

"Thank you, Dream." Frisk offered him a careful smile. "You, um..you did well. Thank you for your cooperation."

"You're welcome.." Dream had kept a meek act up throughout the conversation after he'd stopped crying; it made him seem vulnerable, and that was good for him. "But.."

"Yes?"

"..Can I see him? Please?" 

The ones in charge of making the decision spoke quietly amongst themselves for a moment, before Ink turned to Dream.

"You can." He nodded. "It'll be arranged in a couple days, okay?"

Dream beamed, nodding. "Okay! Thank you! Thank you so much!"

All according to plan.

~~~chapter end woot~~~

Nightmare sausage and Dream sausage have experiences!

Hey, guys, I drew Blue! Specifically, Blue from just before he got turned into Blueberry. So sad.