Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You can skip this chapter if you don't want to get spoiled on their backstories but since I might not be able to cover everything in the story I still recommend you read it to understand the characters better :D

Also before I start, I headcanon Nightmare's tentacles to be retractable so, unless it is specified otherwise, consider that he doesn't have them summoned in the story

Nightmare:  

French noble in the 17th century, speaks French, Latin, and some Old French

Tw: child neglect, child abuse, sort of religious trauma ?

First of all, regarding the apple incident, whenever I make AUs including Nightmare he is always corrupted, however the tree of feelings doesn't always fit the narrative, like in Time Travelers where Nightmare was born and lives as a noble in the 17th century and not 500 years ago as a guardian.

So since there isn't any tree of feelings there isn't any apples either so there technically can't be an apple incident.

So I present to you a new scenario: magic overload.

Basically at the age of six Nightmare's magic starts to grow a little too much, he would often choke on a black goop that would form in his soul and go in his throat for him to throw up, and it's a long and painful transformation, I'm talking about years here, from his six years old to his ten years old his magic would slowly overwhelm his soul more and more, come out of the joints, mouth, nose, eyesockets, he would choke and develop quite severe chronic pains until he's eventually covered in goop just like his original corrupted self.

One good thing with that scenario is that it allows me to give him a softer personality as he wasn't exactly corrupted, his magic just got messed up, but he's still the same person as his passive self.

Now, as Nightmare is living in a very religious time, everyone thought that his messed up magic and black goop was due to some demonic possession or that he was cursed by either God, Satan, or any other divine force, and so Nightmare had to go through a lot of exorcisms, lots of different covens but of course none of it worked ( the solution would have been taking him to a doctor to have some magic drained, but no one did that of course ).

He was always insulted and looked down upon as he was seen like a curse by himself: his father died young (when Dream and him were babies), his mother died young too (when they were young adults) and everyone blamed him and his mere existence for it and every other bad thing that happened to other people he ever talked to or looked their way.

His own mother, Nim, was part of the people insulting him, by telling him that he was her biggest failure and she would have left him in a coven if only Dream didn't insist so much to keep him.

So yeah Nightmare doesn't really think very high of himself and is fully focused on being as good as he can so hopefully people won't see him as a curse anymore ( by good I mean applying to his noble role as perfectly as he can ).

Dream was actually the only one to never turn his back on him, even when they were in different covens/schools ( nobles were placed in special schools from 10yo to 18yo, very strict, they had to speak Latin too so that's why Nightmare is fluent in it ) he would always send him letters, so their relationship never got too bad, Nightmare did have a period when he didn't respond to the letters but he never felt resentment or anything toward his twin because he was actually his only friend, so when they were back home together when they got out at 18 they actually became even closer because Dream was really the only one who would listen to him and genuinely love him.

The two brothers are now basically inseparable and rely very much on each other, Nightmare tells everything to Dream and Dream also talks about anything and everything with Nightmare.

Trauma wise, after years of being talked down and seen as God's mistake he now has an obsession with being perfect, may it be his look or behavior, in hope of not having troubles anymore. What he doesn't realize is that he hurts himself doing so because he bottles up every feeling he has and do not act like himself at all.

Dust:

Minimum wage worker in our current time period, speaks modern English

Tw: child neglect

When Dust was a child he wasn't really the best kid to have, he was kind of a trouble maker, stealing from stores, starting fights at school, disturbing the classes ( except history classes, he was actually very invested in this class ), bad grades, ... he started smoking at 14 and would sometimes smoke illegal substances that he would acquire at school ( as it wasn't a very clean school, but clearly his parents didn't care about what kind of establishment they sent their son to ), come back late, stay in the streets, and all things that would earn him a few trips to the police station, though they weren't very hard on him because he was a kid and they knew he wasn't mean but rather lost as his parents weren't guiding him as they should have.

So basically Dust could do practically all he wanted because he knew his parents didn't care about him anyway.

His parents were actually pretty tired of him, especially because his little brother was nothing like him, he was very calm, had good grades, was helpful,... he was everything Dust wasn't, and so his parents only wanted one thing: for Dust to leave so they could keep only his brother.

So when Dust turned 18, his parents gave him a suitcase and a bag, and he was out of the house the very next day.

He quickly got a job in some fast food as to not stay homeless too long and because he needed to eat so he needed some money, couldn't rely entirely on stealing, so he started working and rented a shitty apartment in a shitty building but at least he had a roof above his head so he didn't bother to look for something better.

He worked for two years and at twenty he figured he wanted to do something else, something a least a little better than working at a fast food, something he liked, so he started saving money each month until he had enough to apply to college and study history, the one and only class he always was interested in.

So he started studying, working on the side as he couldn't afford to stop working, and was really invested.

But unfortunately investment doesn't do everything and money became too tight for him, he couldn't paid both his bills and his classes, so after two years he sadly had to drop out of college and never got a diploma.

He however didn't lose his passion and kept watching documentaries and reading books, his dream being saving enough money to travel and discover the runes of the old civilisations.

Now talking about trauma:

The fact his parents never showed interest in him no matter if he did good or bad and threw him out the moment he turned 18 did affect him more than he realizes it because it is the major reason why he always feels like he's not good enough, like he can't be a good company, that people cannot possibly like him, that's just impossible, his own parents didn't like him so them ? Impossible.

He just doesn't think he's worth it and he is having a hard time accepting that yes, people and later the gang do love him for himself and not what he could have to offer them, because they don't see him as a waste of space like his parents always did.

He's just used to people either not noticing him or being disappointed in him so he now has a very low self esteem and it will take some time to accept that he is lovable.

Killer:

Ancient Roman, speaks Latin

Tw: physical and mental abuse, slavery, murder

Killer was born in the great Roman Empire in a very rich family !

As a slave.

His mother was a slave, and so he automatically was a slave too, and spent all of his childhood alternating between learning basic things and serving his masters, and then his teenage years just serving them.

The house he was in was big with many slaves, his masters being very wealthy, even tho they lived in a rather small town.

Killer's main job was cleaning, he would clean the floors as well as the laundry, clean the dishes,... but he also served the masters directly by bringing them all sort of things they would ask for.

Normally there would have been a slave per job but Killer was often punished and would have to work more.

He wasn't the best slave, tending to be forgetful, slow, leaving out unclean spots, bringing back the wrong things... and so his masters would either make him work more when they were in a rather good day, or when they weren't in a good day, they would physically punish him by whiping his back, among other things.

The times when he was working with the other slaves were calmer, they would chat, tell stories, the slaves who were once war prisoners would tell about their fights, he really liked listening to these stories and daydream about a different life in which he would be free.

He knew some slaves could be freed, but usually these slaves were freed because they either paid a very high price, because their master died and wrote it in their will, or because they did an exceptionally great job and got rewarded, and Killer knew that it was all out of reach for him because he didn't have any money, his masters were young and healthy, and he wasn't doing a good job that would deserve a reward of any kind.

He really wanted to be free though, he wanted more than working everyday for the same persons, he wanted to travel, to discover the Empire that everyone kept saying was so great, to have a chance to chose his own way in life. 

He knew he wouldn't be freed anytime soon, but he also knew that if he didn't have any masters, then he technically wouldn't be a slave anymore.

So he started plotting, he knew everyone's habits, he knew when and where they would be alone, what they would be doing, where the masters would be, he knew everything as he was here since his litteral birth.

He would have to kill the masters, but he couldn't risk leaving witnesses so he would have to kill the slaves following them around, and since he didn't want the other slaves to tell everyone it was him, as he would be the only one missing since he planned to run away, that meant he would just have to kill everyone in the household, to make sure no one could ever know it was him who did it.

It did sadden him a little to have to kill the slaves he worked with, he liked them, but his desire to be free was stronger and so he didn't hesitate when he stabbed them too.

Once he made sure that no one was still breathing he waited for the night and ran away from the town with only a bag and his knife, going as far as he could, to make sure no one would catch him, and luckily his appearance changed when he started killing so he didn't look too much like himself anymore with the black liquid dripping from his sockets and his target shaped soul.

Since that moment he started going from city to city, stealing food, clothes and all sort of things he could sell and make money from.

He never stayed too long in one city and changed his name to a new one each time he moved, he picked "Killer" on the spot when Dust asked what his name was, and it ended up sticking with him.

About the trauma now:

He has pretty bad scars on his back that he tends to hide, not wanting anyone to connect the dots and recognize it as punishment marks, and the scars are so big that he actually doesn't have that much sensation left on his back, he would feel it if you slap him but not if you caress the scars and due to this lack of sensations he absolutely hates it when someone touches his back, it makes him feel vulnerable and is part of why he always sleeps against a wall to make sure his back isn't exposed.

He also hates receiving orders for a very obvious reason and he hates that his first instinct upon receiving orders is moving to do it, he has to stop himself from following the orders and he hates it, he hates how his training hasn't left him ( the fact he doesn't understand any of what the gang says is good in a way because even if they do give him orders he just doesn't understand so he doesn't move, but he has the feeling that they don't give him orders anyways ).

He doesn't consider himself a person, in Ancient Rome slaves had the same status as objects, so, having been born a slave, he is convinced he isn't a person but an object, and despite how much he wants to be someone it is hard to detach himself from what he was told since his birth.

He's also very observant and notices small details about people due to him always analyzing his masters to see if they were in a good mood or not, he doesn't say anything tho, he just stares and sometimes smiles. And yes it's creepy, he finds it funny.

Cross:

Medieval French knight around the 12th century, speaks Old French and manages to understand Nightmare's French 

Tw: class discrimination ?

Knights in the middle ages were usually from the noble class, except for a very few who could be from the lower class, which is Cross's case !

He was a very determined and motivated boy, even though he was an orphan after the early death of his parents due to sickness it never stopped him from believing in his dreams, the biggest one being: becoming a knight.

He kept bringing his candidacy over and over again even though he kept being rejected as he wasn't either a noble or the son of a knight.

Eventually tensions between the kingdoms amplified and the king needed more knights in case a war started, so at age 12 Cross finally got accepted and started his training ( that would usually start at 7 ).

However, Cross was looked down a lot due to him being older than the other recruits and being from the lower class from a family without honors, and was often asked to do more than what was required as to "prove himself worthy of the job".

The only one supporting him was a boy two years older than him who had already started the second phase of the training (out of four): Blue.

Blue saw Cross's potential right away and often encouraged him when others would talk down to him.

They eventually became friends and Blue would sometimes offer him private training to help him improve faster, and he did, Cross was a fast learner.

Cross officially became a knight at age 26 ! ( When all the others would become knights at 18/21 ).

He was tasked to guard certain places such as the castle or other living places for important people.

He also was gifted a land as it was a custom at that time and had a little house build as he wasn't rich enough to live in a manor ( Blue lives in the castle with some other knights and pays him visits when he's off duty ).

Now the mandatory trauma:

Due to him being from the lower class and being constantly talked down during his training Cross developed a fear of never being good enough and deserving of his title, so he works hard, very hard, and is often too severe with himself as he desperately needs validation that he's doing a good job.

He's scared he'll never be good enough for anything and truly craves approbation from anyone willing to give him some.

He also has a slight imposter syndrome ? He was really determined to become a knight but once he was accepted and started training and saw all the other recruits who came from noble families he started to feel as if he didn't belong here and that he got accepted purely because they were tired of him coming back again and again and not because they needed him.

He really wanted to become a knight, it was his biggest dream, but he also became scared that he was taking someone's place, someone more deserving than him, someone who would make a better job than him, and that is also a big reason why he feels he has to prove himself everyday now.

He also has attachment issues, as he'll literally be loyal to anyone validating him regardless of their rank.

Horror:

Viking around the years 900, speaks Old Norse

Tw: starvation

Horror lived in a small village of approximately a hundred people, there were a few farms, some longhouses ( which are, as the name says it, long houses that could house 20 to 30 people and were approximately 30 meters long and 8 meters large ) and individual houses and small stores which looked like small houses ( 5 meters long, 4 meters large ) being buried underground with just the entrance outside.

People were nice and they were all pretty much friends as they weren't a lot.

But since good things don't last, something had to happen.

There has been a great drought which caused great loss in harvests, which itself caused to lose some animals in the farms as they weren't fed properly, which, you guessed it, caused a famine as they didn't have the ressources to cook and were short on meat, even if they started hunting they couldn't provide for everyone or else they would have very small portions.

The first to die were the elderly as well as some children and sick people as the lack of food made them too weak.

And because they really didn't need it: a fire started as the land was very dry and very flammable, destroying a big part of the village so all that was left were the few buried houses and one longhouse.

By that time almost half of the villagers died and they were down to 50/60~ inhabitants who now lived in the longhouse, except sick people who would be in the buried houses as to prevent any contagion of the sickness, or hunters who would wake up earlier and have their material with them as to not disturb the others ( Horror being a hunter, he slept in a buried house ).

It's not a fun life, but everyone keeps on living and they help out each other and still manage to laugh and smile, waiting for the rain to come back as they don't lose hope.

There's still mandatory trauma though:

Food insecurity for starters, he's very much afraid the others won't eat enough and often starves himself if he sees the portions are too small as to leave his to those who need it more, he is strong, he can handle a few days without eating, or sometimes he wouldn't finish his plate and pretends he isn't hungry and they can have the rest.

So on one side he makes sure everyone is well fed but on the other he's the one putting his body through starvation more than necessary because there was enough food for him but he couldn't get himself to eat it because he didn't want to steal it from someone who needed it ( little does he know he's the one needing it ).

And second he feels he is responsible for the group's safety so he tends to blame himself if anyone gets hurt because that means he failed at protecting them, it applies to the village but also the gang as he saw them as rather fragile persons.

He's also very stressed to be far from his village but he tries to stay positive and tells himself that it is all the gods doing and surely it's not bad.

Also his head injury dates back from when he was a kid, he hurt himself playing and somehow survived the head trauma, so he's just happy to be alive even if he does get migraines from time to time and they hurt pretty badly.

That was it with the backstories, I hope you will enjoy what is my biggest project for now !

Chapter Text

One exhausting day added to the list, Dust internally sighed as he opened the door to his appartment with a creaking noise. He lived in an old building on the first floor, almost half of the stuffs were broken but at least he didn't have many neighboors and he had a little backyard so he could touch some grass on the week-end. He didn't have enough money to move out anyway so he wasn't going to complain. It was a small appartment, you entered with the kitchen on the right and two doors on the left, the first leading to the bathroom and the second to the bedroom, and in front of you was the living room with a couch, a table and a few chairs, the TV was on the wall in front of the couch. The door to the small square shaped backyard was on the opposite wall, in front of the entry door. It was small but more than enough for the skeleton living alone.

He put his bag on the kitchen counter, took off his shoes and fell flat on his couch. He had to eat, but he just wanted to rest a little before he gathered the energy to get up and go cook. He was just going to take a quick ten minutes nap.

He woke up with a light shining bright through his window, was it already morning ? Did he sleep on his couch again ? He looked up, rubbing his eyesockets as he grumbled, but the light didn't seem to come from the sun, it was to bright and too white, it looked like a neon light from a big spot, which he didn't have any near or in his backyard.

- What the fuck... ?

The light disappeared when he stood up, for a moment he contemplated going back to sleep, but he quickly changed his mind when he heard speaking, or more precisely screams, coming from his garden. Did someone break in ? He swiftly went to grab a knife in his kitchen and slowly opened his curtains to take a quick look outside, to see how many they were so he could call the cops.

- Wh-

He was speachless in front the scene happening before him. Did a cosplay parade broke into his backyard ? Why the hell were there a knight, a viking, some roman and a sort of prince in his garden ? And why were they all screaming at each other in languages that he couldn't understand ? Wait were those real weapons ?

He opened the door, and everyone looked at him, having stopped yelling. They all looked at each other for a while, no one making any move, at least Dust had time to analyze them. They were all skeletons, the roman was dressed in a dirty brown tunic with a leather bag around the waist and two knives in his hands, a black liquid was dripping from his empty sockets. The viking was tall and massive, dressed in thic furr clothes, pobably for the winter, he had an axe that was as tall as him, a hole in his skull and a big shining red eye, his whole look screamed intimidating. The knight was, well, dressed as a knight in an armor and holding a sword, he had a red scar underneath his right socket and mismatched eyelights, behind him was the last skeleton, a black one, dressed very elegantly in purple clothes, looking like a noble more than a prince as he wasn't wearing any crown. Their costumes looked really well made, they definitely had a good budget.

The roman was the first to talk.

- Ubi sum et qui estis ?

- What ? Speak English man.

Dust answered, not understanding a word of what that stranger just said. The roman repeated slower.

- Ubi sum et qui estis ?

- English, dude, English.

Dust asked again. Damn, these cosplayers really went all out didn't they ? The noble sighed, visibly even more irritated than Dust.

- Il essaie de vous demander où il se trouve et qui nous sommes, vous ne parlez donc pas le latin ?

Okay that sounded like French. Dust didn't speak French.

- Do none of you speak English ?

He asked, but received no response. The knight spoke, looking confused.

-Je ne comprens mie.

That sounded like French too, a weird version of French. Dust looked at the viking.

- You. You speak English ?

- ᛇᛋᛏᛖ ᚲᛖ ᚹᛟᚢ ᛞᛁᛏᛖ ?

- Damn okay that's worse.

It now seemed very apparent that none of them spoke English, which made the situation even weirder, and harder to manage too.

- Okay wait here for a second.

Dust instructed them before going back inside, grabbing his phone, and going back outside where no one had moved, various looks of confusion spreading on their face.

- You, French guy, come here.

He pointed to the noble who looked at him like he just insulted his mother, but still he approached him, the knight following him while keeping an eye on the others.

- Okay speak.

He said, holding out his phone opened on the Google Translate page. The noble looked at his phone, visibly confused.

- Qu'est-ce que cette.. chose.. que vous tenez ?

The translation appeared on the screen: "what is that thing you're holding ?" it said. Wait, he didn't know what a phone was ? The situation might be even more complicated than what Dust initially thought. He quickly typed his answer and clicked on the vocal command, asking the other who he was and where did they all come from.

- Mon nom est Nightmare, je suis un noble du grand Royaume de France et je vous prierais de ne point m'associer à ces.. personnages, dont je ne connaissais pas l'existence il y a de cela un instant.

He answered, looking at the others with disdain. The translation arrived. His name was Nightmare, he came from the Kingdom of France and was a noble, and he apparently didn't know who these people were. Dust typed another question, this time asking in which century they currently were, he had a thought, but wanted to be sure, because it sounded very absurd, but again, the situation in itself was absurd.

- Le dix-septième, évidemment, comment ne savez-vous point cela ?

The seventeenth. He thought he was in the seventeenth century, in the French kingdom, and didn't know what a phone was. Judging by how everyone looked and talked, they were probably also from different centuries. What happened for them to end up here ?

Dust sighed, for now, he could at least ask for their name.

- Okay so he is Nightmare, and I am Dust, you, who are you ?

Dust asked, pointing at Nightmare and then himself before pointing at the roman who looked at him with confusion.

- Him Nightmare, me Dust, you ?

The roman didn't talk. Nightmare sighed again, looking more and more annoyed with everything.

- Rogat quod nomen tibi est.

- Oh, nomen meum Killer est.

He finally answered, in a language that Dust's phone recognized to be Latin and which Nightmare seemed to be fluent in. Then Nightmare turned to the Knight.

- Vostre nom.

- Je me nome Cross, vostre altece.

Nightmare then turned to the viking, but didn't talk this time, he just stared, the viking however seemed to understand what they were all doing as he answered with his name.

- Horror.

Nightmare turned to Dust, looking at him with a very smug smile on his face, clearly showing his languages skills as he could apparently speak French, some variant of French, and Latin. He seemed to be the only one able to do that aside from Dust's phone.

- Oookay, so Nightmare the noble, Cross the knight, Killer the roman and Horror the viking, great.

Dust sighed, really hoping that all that was just a dream and he would wake up soon, but if it was really just a dream, his head wouldn't hurt like that.

- I'm going back inside, you.. uh.. can come in if you promise not to kill each other and not to turn my appartment into a mess, well, a bigger mess.

He said as he typed on Google and let the French translation be heard. Nightmare listened, looked up at Dust, looked at his appartment with an almost repelled expression on his face, and looked back at the skeleton like he was making fun of him.

- Vous voulez que j'entre dans cette étable ?

Nightmare asked, the translation asking Dust if he wanted him to enter this stable, referring to his apartment. Frenchie was a bitch, noted.

- It's all I have, unless you want to stay outside.

He told him. Nightmare sighed when he heard the translation but didn't reply, letting Dust translate in Latin and Old Norse that he invited everyone inside on the condition that they didn't make a mess or kill each others.

Killer was the first to go in, putting his knives back in his bag, visibly not worried that it might be a trap, he just went to explore this new place. Cross stayed by Nightmare's side, they might not have known each other but Cross was a knight and Nightmare was a noble, it made sense for him to stay close to him, it was his duty to protect him. Horror seemed suspicious, but seeing how Dust seemed genuine and not much of a threat he decided to enter too, much more carefully than Killer. Dust looked at them pass by him and turned to face the last two, waiting for them to enter as well. Cross went in first, inspected the inside before coming out again and talking to Nightmare who stayed outside.

- Il n'i a auncun dangeor, vous poez entrer.

Nightmare looked at him for a few seconds without moving before finally following the knight inside. Dust guessed he must have told him the place was safe.

With everyone inside Dust went back in and closed the door. They all looked at him, waiting for him to say something.

Well.

Dust didn't know what to say.

Why didn't he just stay asleep ?

Chapter Text

Dust was on his laptop, trying to make some researches about these four mysterious time travelers, trying to learn some things about their cultures, to get an idea of what he should be prepared for. They already ate, Dust having decided to make some pasta, and just with that he had already been met with various looks of confusion and suspicion: out of the four, only Cross and Nightmare knew what pasta were, and while Dust wasn't very surprised by that, he had been a lot more confused when the only one who knew how to use a fork, or simply what a fork was, had been Nightmare, the others preferring to use a spoon or even their fingers, which earned them some disgusted looks from the noble, that, for once, Dust could quite agree with. After a quick Google research on his phone, Dust had learnt that forks hadn't been introduced in the Roman Empire until the fourth century and in France in 1533, while vikings usually used either knives, spoons, or their fingers, but no forks. After that, Dust figured it might be a good idea to make some more researches...

He watched them from his chair, to make sure they weren't destroying his house. Cross was standing guard in front of his door, not moving an inch, Killer had miraculously stopped rummaging in his drawers to stare in wonder at a lava lamp instead, and Nightmare was sitting on the couch. Dust had given him his reading tablet that he got from work as a gift, having found a French book from 1532 by François Rabelais, right before forks were imported, titled Pantagruel. Nightmare had been.. reluctant to take the tablet, watching Dust showing him how to scroll up and down, he had however seemed quite curious about it when he had seen the French writing, and had agreed on taking it "car il n'y a bien que cela à faire ici". Dust wasn't sure what that meant, but he was pretty sure it was an excuse so it didn't seem like the noble was just curious but rather didn't have a choice.

Horror was looking through the window when he finally let out a sigh and went to sit on the couch as well, making the mattress sag under his weight. Nightmare looked up for the tablet to frown at the viking, and shifted away from him, against the armrest, to which Horror frowned too. Dust watched these two interact, he watched Horror grab Nightmare's cape to feel the texture and Nightmare slapping his hand away to take back the cape, Horror holding out his hands as a peace sign. He would probably have to watch them closely, make sure they didn't get on each other's nerves.

Dust was in the middle of reading a Wikipedia article when he was interrupted by Nightmare.

- Dust ? Vôtre, uh.. parchemin magique.. ? Est terminé.

He recognized the word "terminé", as it sounded like "terminate", and guessed that Nightmare must have finished the book, which was frankly impressive because it had nearly four hundred pages and he gave it to him not three hours ago.

- Uh.. okay.. ? You, uh.. want to read another book ? I can look if there's any other.

Nightmare didn't respond, frowning slightly. Right, Dust's phone was charging, so he didn't have Google Translate turned on. He tried to think of the translation for book, he had used it when presenting the tablet to the noble, surely he didn't forget it so fast.

- Uh.. autre.. livre.. ?

He said, with a bad accent, but Nightmare seemed to understand as he slowly looked down at the tablet, seeming perplexed, surely wondering how Dust was going to pull a book from something that looked like a weird parchment, or just how long was said parchment. Dust stood up to grab the tablet from Nightmare's hands who looked up at him, he searched for a few seconds before handing him the tablet again, this time opened on a book titled Gargantua, a prequel of Pantagruel by the same author, from 1534, one year after forks were imported. Nightmare shot him a suspicious look before taking the tablet and starting to read again. At least this one was easily occupied.

Horror bent over, trying to see above Nightmare's shoulder, which only made him flinch and shift away from the viking, pressing the tablet against his chest as to prevent him from taking it away.

- Ne vous approchez pas de moi !

He said with a tone that he wanted threatening, but his voice just sounded afraid. Horror frowned at him.

- Hey, no fights. I don't have enough money to replace furniture.

Horror looked up at him, sitting straight, but before he could say anything a sword was between them. Cross had moved from the door. He glared at Horror.

- Eo vos conseilloie de rester asis.

They both stared at each other before Horror huffed, sitting on the other end of the couch again. Cross quickly glanced at Dust before focusing on Nightmare.

- Allez-vos tresbien, Sire ?

Nightmare looked at him before nodding, sitting straight too after having shot a last look at Horror who was now looking through the bay window of the backyard, not paying attention to them anymore. Cross put his sword away and returned to the door, ignoring Killer who had been watching the whole scene.

- Si vis pugnare, possum servare score.

He said with a sharp smile and amusement in his voice. Nightmare glanced at him.

- Sine me pugna, lego. Et desine obstrepere.

Killer chuckled, and turned his attention back to the lamp, letting Nightmare go back to his reading.

Okay what just happened ? Dust hadn't moved, he hadn't understood a word of what they all said, but apparently the situation had been sorted out ? After they almost started to fight ?

He should really try to learn at least the basics of their languages. But which one should he start with ? Probably French and Old Norse, because no one here seemed to speak Old Norse so he couldn't count on them to translate, and Nightmare could help him with Latin and Old French, so focusing on French first would be easier, and maybe he could pick out some words from Latin in the process ? He should have taken French in school instead of Spanish.

Dust returned to his seat, searching once more for some helpful websites with tips to learn the basics of French and Old Norse. He only found dictionaries for the latter.

- ᚹᚺᛖᚱᛖ ᛞᛟ ᚹᛖ ᛋᛚᛖᚨᛈ ?

Dust had been in the middle of reading the dictionary when he almost jumped from his chair, not having noticed that Horror was now next to him. He was surprisingly quiet.

- Huh ?

Horror looked at him, frowned, understood that Dust didn't get what he said, and pointed at the window for Dust to take a look. It was night, the moon was high, and the clock on the wall said it was past one in the morning already. Right, they probably wanted to sleep.

But where would they sleep ? Dust only had one bed and one couch, no air mattresses, no extra mattresses either, and just a few extra pillows. He thought for a while, he couldn't share his bed, and he didn't particularly want to anyway, the couch could maybe hold two people on it but he doubted anyone would want to sleep this close to one another, so that left the floor, and the deckchairs he had in his backyard. Didn't vikings sleep outside anyway ?

Dust made a quick research and looked at Nightmare who had apparently finished his second book as the tablet was resting next to him on the couch.

- Hum.. dormir.. ?

Killer, Cross and Nightmare all looked at him. Well, seemed like "sleep" sounded the same in the three languages.

- Ubi ?

Killer asked, a question to which Dust didn't have the answer because he didn't know what ubi meant. He went on Google again, looking at the French translation for "where do you want to sleep".

- Où voulez.. vous dormir.. ?

He looked at Nightmare next, pointing at Killer to silently ask him to translate for him. Nightmare sighed, annoyed to be an intermediary, but still translated.

- Ubi vis dormire ?

Killer looked around for a second before answering.

- Ad angulum parietis.

Nightmare looked at him with surprise, frowning and tilting his head as if he just heard some big nonsense, but before Dust could ask what Killer had answered he saw him crossing the living room to go sit on the floor against the corner of the wall. Strange. But he seemed pleased. Dust kept staring for a few seconds before focusing on Cross and Nightmare again, waiting for their response. Nightmare was looking at the couch, that he didn't leave during all the evening to the point Dust wondered if it had become a sort of safe place for him, and simply sighed before rearranging the pillows. Seemed like the noble was going to sleep here tonight. Cross however stayed planted in front of the door, so Dust asked again.

- Dormir ?

- Eo ne poez dormir, eo doi monter la warde.

Dust didn't understand, but judging by the fact the knight didn't move, he figured that it a least meant he would stay by the door.

Dust then turned to Horror as he was the last one not having answered. He asked the question again, this time typing on his computer and showing him the translation as he didn't know how to pronounce it. Horror looked in wonder at the screen for a few seconds before focusing on reading, bending down a little, before standing up again and going to the bay window. He pointed at the backyard as he looked at Dust.

- Oh you want to sleep outside ? Sure, as long as you stay in the backyard.

Dust got up to open the door for him, going out with him to put a deckchair in place in case he wanted to use it.

Horror inspected it before nodding and giving Dust a pat on the shoulder. At least he wanted it to be a pat but the small skeleton was so light compared to his usual companions that he actually pushed him on the chair, much to Dust's surprise who looked up at him from where he was now laying. Horror looked guilty.

- Uh, i-it's okay, I'm fine, just.. didn't expect that.

He quickly reassured as he got up.

- Damn you're strong.

He muttered.

- ... ᛈᚨᚱᛞᛟᚾ.

Horror said, looking down. That sounded like an apology.

- It's okay, really, uh.. well.. sleep good ?

He gave him thumbs ups before quickly going back inside before the situation became more awkward.

Well, seemed like everyone was settled for the night, so Dust could go in his own room and get prepared for bed too. He had a day off the next day, he was originally planning to rest but that option was off the chart now.

He sighed and let his body collapse on his bed. He just hoped his apartment wouldn't be a mess in the morning. And that maybe they would dissappear too and this whole experience would turn out to be a big dream...

A very strange big dream...

Chapter Text

Dust woke up with the sound of metal kitchenware falling on the ground. He sighed.

- Please be a cat...

He pushed the covers aside, grabbed his jacket, put on his sweatpants, and walked to his bedroom door, stopping right before grabbing the handle. What if he went back to bed ? He heard metal clanking. 

- Oh for God's sake.

He opened his door and was met with Cross holding Killer by his arm, the roman was sitting on the ground and holding a fork in his hand, the other kitchenware laying on the ground with the drawer they were previously in being opened. Dust stared at the two, and they both stared at him. It was nine am. Dust didn't want to deal with that at nine am. He turned to Nightmare to ask him if he could tell Killer to stop looking through his stuff but he stopped himself when he saw that the noble was still sleeping. Strange, he thought that nobles woke up early ? He was almost ready to see him judging him for sleeping in to be honest, but it seemed that instead he was the last one still asleep as Dust could see Horror looking at them from outside. Right, he should probably go open the door for him, not sure the viking knew how to open a sliding door.

He let Horror in and closed behind him, he saw Cross letting go of Killer who quickly assembled all the kitchenware to put them back in the drawer, because looking was a thing but making a mess was another, and Dust was his host, it wouldn't please the gods if he made a mess in his host's house. Dust was really wondering how Nightmare managed to sleep with all that noise.

- So, uh... ya'll slept well ?

As expected, none of them understood. Dust went to grab his phone that had finished charging overnight and went back on Google Translate, using the vocal command for French and Latin and letting Horror read the Old Norse as there wasn't any vocal sample for that. They all nodded.

- Good. Well.. I'll just make myself some coffee, and uh.. and we'll see from there, I need coffee first.

He declared as he went to the kitchen.

- Move.

He said to Killer, pointing at the livingroom. The roman looked at him for a minute before understanding and going back to his corner in which he apparently installed the lava lamp to make it more cozy. Dust sighed and turned the coffee machine on while he opened the cabinet above the sink, but before he could climb on the counter Horror grabbed a cup, by simply lifting his arm, and handed it to him. He didn't notice him following him.

- Oh, uh.. thanks ?

He said, quite confused, but took the cup to pour the coffee in it. Did Horror do that because he felt bad about last night ? He had made thumbs ups, he thought he would have understood it meant no hard feelings... well, at least he didn't have to climb his counter this time.

He looked through his cabinets as he sipped on his coffee, he was low on food, it was enough for him but he had five mouths to feed now, and what he had clearly wouldn't suffice. He'll need to go grocery shopping, which meant either take them with him or leave them alone in his apartment, and he didn't like neither options. He couldn't take them with him though, because monitoring them here was a thing, they couldn't go too far, didn't have much to do, didn't have to worry about people, but monitoring them outside ? In the middle of a crowded store ? When no-one spoke their language and they surely didn't even know what a store was ? Dust would die from stress before he could grab a cart. Plus he didn't have any clothes to lend them, the only ones being roughly his size being Killer and Nightmare, but he doubted Nightmare would agree to take off his fancy clothes and Killer didn't seem to know what pants were and Dust really didn't want to dress him up. He also didn't have the money to buy them all a new set of clothes, so he'll have to leave them here. Maybe he could put on a movie for them to watch ? That would keep them untertained.

He put his empty cup in the sink and went back to the living room to look through the drawers under the TV, searching for a long movie so he would have time to shop in peace. He had a five hour long movie about the French Revolution but he doubted it would have been a good thing to show Nightmare, he didn't want to give him, well, nightmares, so he eventually settled on The Lord Of The Rings, which was three hours long, with the shop being fifteen minutes away, that left Dust with two hours and a half to shop, which was more than enough.

He got up to put the DVD box on the table and noticed that Nightmare had woken up and sat up straight. Saying that he looked disoriented would have been an understatement, his mind was clearly foggy. Dust checked the time, it was almost ten, Nightmare must have been exhausted to sleep that late. He went on Google again, just in time for Nightmare to speak, still sounding quite sleepy.

- Pourquoi ne pas m'avoir réveillé... ?

He asked. "Why didn't you wake me up ?" The translation said.

- Why would we ? You were tired, so you slept, 's as simple as that.

He answered, using the vocal command so Nightmare could hear it in French. He looked up at him confused, like he didn't understand that sleeping was made to rest when tired and not just to pass the night. That made Dust wonder at what time he usually woke up ? Surely around seven am, when the sun rises. Did they have alarm clocks at that time ? Or did his servants, because he surely had some, wake him up every morning ? Did he ever sleep enough by the way ? Maybe that would explain why he slept in and why he got so confused on why they didn't wake him up. Well, good for him, Dust thought, at least he got to rest.

Dust looked at the time again. If he went to the store now he would come back near one pm, so he would have time to cook and they could eat between one and two pm, which wouldn't be too late, and he would have the afternoon to make more researches. 

- Okay everyone here !

He called, gesturing for the four to come closer or simply listen to him. 

- I'm going to grab some food, so you will stay here and watch a movie on the TV while I'm gone, do not make a mess and do not fight.

He first translated in into French, then into Old Norse, which had some words missing because they didn't exist in that language, such as TV and movie, but Horror still understood that Dust would be out, probably hunting, and they had to stay here and be calm. Dust looked at Nightmare, waiting for him to translate for Killer, Cross having understood the general idea already. Nightmare rubbed his eye and focused for a bit before coming up with a translation, not knowing either what a movie was, but he figured the "TV" was this big flat black mirror behind Dust.

- Emit cibum et rogat nos ut hanc nigram cistam videamus dum abest.

Dust wanted to steal his knowledge, just open his head and take it, how was he so fluent in a language that had been dead for centuries ?!

He decided to leave it for now, having more important things to do, and just put the cd in the player before turning the movie on and going to put on his shoes to go outside. Cross looked at him for a few seconds before letting him get out of the apartment.

Dust sighed when outside, finally being alone. He grabbed his headphones and put on some music on his was to the store. French songs. To try and learn some words. Maybe choosing L'Assasymphonie as a starter song wasn't his best idea as it had quite a lot of complicated words, but the song slapped, so he kept it anyway.

It was the first time in his life that Dust had been happy to go grocery shopping, and also the first time it took more than two hours, he really wanted to appreciate some time away from everything, but he had to come back now, the movie was almost done and he didn't want them to make a mess the second they would be left without a distraction.

He opened the door with one hand, the bags in the other, and was surprised to see that Cross wasn't standing guard anymore. Well, surely he had joined the others to watch the TV. Dust came in, and just had the time to close the door before Killer litteraly jumped at his feet to hold onto his waist.

- Wh- ?!

- Quaeso ne nos in arca pone ! Bene erimus ! Promitto !

He begged as if his life depended on it. Okay what happened ? Dust looked up, inspecting his appartment, but everything was in order, the credits were rolling on the TV, Nightmare was on the couch, Cross was standing next to it, Horror was standing near the bay window, and, oh... they all looked at him frightened. Did he put a horror movie by accident ? He was pretty sure he grabbed the right box but the cds could have been mixed up. He recognized the names of the characters on the credits though, so he did put the right movie. But why did they look so scared then ?

- Killer, let go.

He pushed him, but Killer tightened his grip around him. He sighed, picking up his phone again to ask Nightmare what happened.

Nightmare flinched when Dust "talked" to him. Weird. He looked at him for a while before answering, seeming unsure.

- Allez-vous nous emprisonner dans cette boîte également... ?

Dust looked at the translation with incomprehension: was he going to lock them in the box too ? What box ? Why would he lock them in a box ? He looked up at them again, then at the TV.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

Of course they didn't know what a film was, of course they would think it was real people, hell even he thought that when he was a kid, before he learnt about special effects and cgi, he thought it was all real, that people were really dying, so of course these four would think that real people were trapped in there, the only thing they knew was theater ! What Dust just did was basically show them his collection of enslaved people in boxes who he forced to perform elaborated scenarios where they would get hurt and possibly die. That couldn't be more terrifying and if he had been in their place he would have felt very threatened. 

He quickly typed an explanation and translated it in all three languages, praying that the translation would be correct, to tell them it wasn't real, that these people were actors and these were simply the images of what they played, that they weren't trapped here and they weren't really getting hurt. He saw them relax a little, but they still seemed quite chocked, which was understandable.

- I'm, uh... going to make food then.. ?

Dust said awkwardly as he managed to make Killer let go of him, but the roman still followed him in the kitchen to sit by his feet. He didn't chase him, thinking that chasing him now would just make him think that Dust would lock him in the TV, or the box as they seemed to call it, so he just prepared dinner with the skeleton waiting on the floor. He heard Cross go back to the door.

- You can take a break you know.

Cross looked at him.

- You know, break, how do you say... pause ? Arrêter ? You can stop ?

He tried to translate from memory. Cross frown.

- Eo ne poez mie. Eo doi monter la warde.

- Yeah you already said that, but that's okay, you did a very good job, uhhh.. un bon travail.. ? So you can.. you can pause ? You can stop, bon travail, take une pause.

He managed to blurt out in a broken French with a smile, so hopefully Cross would understand. The knight looked at him before quickly turning away. Dust could have sworn he saw a faint purple blush on his cheeks. He wanted to ask him but the timer went off at that moment. Food was ready.

Horror helped him set the table, putting spoons for himself, Killer and Cross, and forks for Nightmare and Dust.

Cross avoided Dust's gaze during all of dinner while Nightmare kept eying Horror who was sitting next to him, surely to make sure he wouldn't touch him, Dust thought, as the noble seemed quite cautious of the viking, even though for now Horror was clearly not the dangerous type. Whatever, as long as they didn't fight, Dust wasn't going to force them to become friends.

He had a good feeling about Horror though, he was helpful and didn't look at him weird when he came up with broken translations. He kinda liked him. If they ended up being stuck here for a while he wouldn't mind him as a roommate.

He still hoped they would be gone soon though. He really didn't have enough money for all of them.

His bank account was almost empty already, and it wasn't even past the first half of the month.

He'll need to save money. Like, really save money.

Chapter Text

There was a V on today's date on the calendar. V for vacation. Dust had vacations this month, and he completely forgot about that. He should have guessed it, he usually never had a day off on a Saturday unless he was on vacation the next week, and vacations meant being paid less, which also meant he'll need to buy less to save more because the bills would be the same price, which also meant that what he was going to buy now would have to be his last spent of the month.

He had found an English to Old Norse dictionary on one of his town's bookstore website and if he bought it online now he could go get it from the store the next morning.

Dust was staring at his computer screen when he heard Horror sit next to him.

- Hvat ir sá ?

He asked, pointing to the screen. Dust wondered for a second if he was talking about the computer or the dictionary, having guessed that the viking asked what it was with his tone.

- It's, uh... to understand you ? Uh.. wait.

He went back on his other tab, and typed "to understand" before translating. "vita".

Horror nodded, he didn't know how an image was going to help Dust understand anything but he guessed it might be a sort of sacred thing that Dust could look at and receive answers, maybe it was from the gods ?

- You, uh.. wanna do something ?

Dust asked. Everyone was occupied: Cross was as usual guarding the door, Nightmare was reading a new book on the tablet, and Dust had found his old kaleidoscope he gave to Killer and that he hadn't let go off yet, the only one not doing anything was Horror.

Horror looked at him, and looked at the computer, waiting for Dust to translate. He didn't know what that thing was, but Dust could make it talk his language. Dust tried different words to have the best translation possible. "Tafl, háttr, tefla", "game, activity, play". Horror nodded and pointed at "game", he could play games, he was good at table games.

- Okay uhhhh wait a sec.

Dust went back on Google to look for the kind of games vikings used to play, and apparently they played chess, their own version of chess of course, it was called hnefatafl and was played by two people, fortunately the game became popular enough to be commercialized in Dust's time, which meant he could easily find the rules as well as apps to play.

- Okay wait, I'll grab my iPad it'll be easier than on the computer.

He said as he got up and quickly left to go in his room, looking through his nightstand to find his old iPad with a cracked screen. He turned it on and installed the app on his way back to the table where Horror was waiting for him. He put the tablet down on the table, between the two of them, with the rules on his computer.

Horror looked at it curiously, recognizing one of his favorite games, but finding the board quite weird. Was it how boards looked like at that time or was it another magical device of Dust that could replicate board games ?

- Oookay, so uh.. you have to touch the screen to make the pieces move.

Dust showed him by moving his first piece. Horror looked at it for a while before slowly pressing a finger on the screen and dragging it to where he wanted his piece to go, and to his surprise, it went there. He smiled as he looked at Dust, proud to be able to make the magical device follow his orders. Dust smiled back.

- Cool, so, uh, my turn I guess.. ?

He checked the rules again, and moved his piece. Horror moved his after him, and the two could soon enjoy a nice game of ancient chess, not aware that they were being watched.

Cross was looking at them, or more precisely he was looking at Dust, his words running in his head over and over again: Dust thought he was doing a good job, he smiled at him and told him he did good ! Was he proud ? He wanted him to be proud, he wanted to make someone proud for once, he knew he wasn't the best knight, he was too emotional, too anxious, he talked either too much or not enough, he was even one of the very few knights who didn't come for a noble family, so having someone tell him he did good and smile at him brought so much warmth in his soul. Dust was nice, he welcomed them in his house, made great efforts to communicate with all of them, he was so smart, and he didn't let himself succumb to panic or despair, he didn't think twice before making them come inside his house. He was impressive. Cross... admired him.

He wanted to talk to him but he didn't know how, as he had to stay by the door in case someone broke in and even then he shouldn't be distracted from his work by chatting, so he looked at him from afar, he watched him play some game with Horror. Horror seemed nice too, he looked strong but he wasn't aggressive, Cross could tell he perfectly controlled his strength, he was rather calm. He was warry of him at first, but the viking never showed any signs of being a threat. As for Killer... he couldn't quite tell what Killer wanted. The way the roman often looked at him with his big wide empty sockets always sent chills all along his spine, how he often checked his blades in the moonlight, but he didn't seem to want to attack and looked more curious about his surroundings than anything. Nightmare of course wasn't a threat, it was clear he was a noble and took too much care of his appearance to engage in a fight, and even so Cross wasn't even sure he knew how to fight, at least not in a real fight. None of them seemed dangerous, but Cross still had to be prepared, and so he couldn't lower his guard to go and talk to Dust even though he quite wanted to. He had to stay here and watch, that was his job, and hopefully if he did it good then Dust would smile at him again...

- Damn you're good.

Dust admitted to Horror, having lost three times in a row against him, but he still put on a good fight, he was really close to winning !

Horror smiled, Dust was a strong opponent, he liked playing with him, he liked the simple fact that he choose something from his culture, that he tried so hard to integrate him, he really was a nice guy. He gave him a pat on the shoulder, with much less strength than the previous night, he didn't want to launch him across the table after all.

They looked at each other for a minute before Dust got up.

- I, uh.. I'll make food, uhh... matr.. ?

He tried hesitantly before relaxing when seeing Horror smile and nod at him, he felt quite proud of himself for catching a few words.

- Cool, so uh.. I'll go.

He quickly went to the kitchen. He hated how awkward he sounded all the time, and it seemed to be stronger around Horror, probably because he couldn't use the vocal command with him and had to look on specific sites, so he actually had to search for the correct translations and he was always afraid he would say something totally incorrect or possibly rude, but so far Horror only smiled at him and gave him time to find his words... he really wanted to do good for him, to at least try to establish some amical bond with one of them, in case they would stay in his apartment for a while...

It would be good to have a friend in this mess.

Really good.

Chapter Text

A new morning began, and Dust woke up with Killer's face right in front oh his, which resulted in the Roman getting punched in the nose as a reflex from Dust, who let out a higher pitched scream than he would have wanted to admit. Dust heard Killer yelp and bring his hands to his face, backing down.

- What the fuck are you doing in my room ?!

He yelled at the Roman whining on his floor, sitting up straight on his bed and pulling the covers to hide his body, which was more of a reflex than anything as he wasn't naked but in pajamas.

- Audivi te gementes... !

Killer tried to explain, but the door flung open before he could finish, and Cross entered, panicked, and, judging by his tilted helmet, woken up by Dust's scream.

- Avez-vos uns problesme ?!

Dust only recognized the word "problem".

- I've got a problem yeah, he's watching me sleep !

- Tu gementes !

Killer tried again, but Cross had already grabbed his arm to pull him out of the room despite Killer's attempt to resist.

Dust looked at them leave, letting go of his covers. What was Killer doing in his room ? What was he trying to say ? Dust doubted the Roman just came to watch him sleep, unless he was that creepy.

He sighed, getting up as he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep now, and put on his clothes before exiting his room. Killer was unhappily sitting by Cross's feet who was still holding his arm to prevent him from going anywhere.

- You can let him go, it's okay.

He sighed, gesturing at Killer. Cross looked at him for a moment before reluctantly letting go of his arm. Once freed Killer went straight to his corner, sitting down with his back turned, pouting. Dust would have to talk to him, but for now he had to open the bay window for Horror before he broke it by trying to open it himself, which reminded him that he had to go pick up the dictionary at the bookstore.

He let Horror in and let the window opened to bring some fresh air inside, he noticed that Nightmare was still asleep on the couch when he turned back around, he was laying on his stomach with his face burried in a pillow and one arm hanging from the couch. That couldn't be a comfortable position, how could he even breath like that ? ... Was he still breathing ? Dust stared at him for a few seconds before reaching out to press two fingers against his throat, he almost sighed in relief when he felt a pulse

- Opna.

Dust stood straight again when Horror talked from the kitchen.

- Huh ?

He really needed that dictionary.

- Opna.

Horror repeated, pointing at the fridge.

- You, uh.. want me to open the fridge ? You're hungry ?

Dust tried to guess, going to open the fridge to let Horror have a look inside. The Viking looked at the few items in the fridge, not touching anything, with a frown on his face. Was it not what he wanted ?

- You're not hung..

- Slátr.

He interrupted Dust. Cross looked at him.

- Slátr, er ?

He asked again, looking at Dust.

- I need my phone...

Dust finally answered, going in his room to grab his phone before coming back, turning the translator on for Horror to repeat once again what he said.

- Er slátr ?

"Where meat". He wanted to know where the meat was ? Dust didn't have meat, it was too expensive, he only bought some when it was on sale and he didn't find any last time he went shopping, so no, no meat. Dust shook his head, searching the word money at the same time.

- No slátr, no, uh.. penningr.. ?

His accent was awful. Horror frowned, but didn't answer, simply nodding and turning away from the fridge. Dust looked at him, thinking that he must have understood and closed the fridge door, going to the bathroom to wash himself rapidly. Horror wasn't inside anymore when he got out, but he didn't pay much attention to it, the bay window was opened after all, he was sureley in the garden.

Dust put on his shoes and went to the door, already on the Google Translate page to ask Cross to let him go out, but to his surprise it wasn't needed as Cross avoided his gaze and moved to the side to let him pass. Weird. Dust might need to adress that too when he came back.

The bookstore was a little farther than the grocery store, and Dust didn't want to waste time by waiting for the bus so decided to walk, not wanting to leave them all alone for too long without any distraction.

When Dust came back he saw Killer talking, or rather complaining, to Nightmare, who looked like he just woke up and really didn't want to have a conversation. He put the dictionary on the table before looking at these two, opening Google once again, feeling that he would need it. Killer stared at him, still very much unhappy judging by his frown, then he looked at Nightmare who sighed before speaking.

- Vous faisiez un cauchemar, il voulait s'assurer que le reste de votre nuit se passât bien.

Dust waited for the translation to appear, and, oh, he was having a nightmare and Killer wanted to make sure he slept well for the rest of the night, that was... actually quite thoughtful... he kinda felt bad about hitting him, kinda, because watching him sleep this close to his face was still a weird thing to do.

- Oh, uh.. thank you then.. ? Merci.. ?

- Gratis.

Nightmare simply said to Killer, who seemed to untense a little, but he still seemed to wait for more.

- And sorry for hitting you, I'm.. désolé, pour, uh.. frapper ?

He tried, but thankfully Nightmare understood.

- Ipse suus paenitet te malum facere.

Killer seemed satisfied, looking up to smile at Dust, before sitting next to Nightmare on the couch. Nightmare didn't look happy with that but decided against complaining, not wanting to argue right after waking up.

Dust grabbed the dictionary again, going to the garden to show it to Horror, only to not find Horror in the garden. Was he in the bathroom ? He went back inside, noting that Cross seemed more nervous than when he left earlier. Dust looked at him for a second, noticing the sweat drop and Cross's increasing nervousness the longer he stared at him.

- Cross where is Horror ?

Cross didn't answer, avoiding his gaze.

- Cross.

Just as Dust was about to ask again, the door opened, making both Cross and Dust flinch, and Horror entered, holding his axe with blood on the blade as well as on his hands and a few drops on his face, he had a carcass on his shoulder that he was holding in place with his free hand.

Dust froze. Horror was outside, and he came back with an unidentified corpse, in plain daylight. He came back with a corpse ! Where did he find that corpse !? Was the corpse alive when he found it !? Of course it was, there was blood on his axe ! Who did he kill ? Did he kill someone ?! Someone's pet ?! It seemed too big to be a pet. Was it a human !? Dust really hoped he didn't kill a human, even if he did dislike them pretty much. Was he racist ? There were nice humans, some of his colleagues were humans and they were nice... now wasn't the time to think about his moral code, Horror just came back with a corpse and-

- Slátr.

Meat. Yeah Dust could see it was meat. Wait, did Horror went to hunt for him because he told him he didn't have money for meat ? Well it was kind of him but he didn't have to, like, he really didn't have to.

Dust was speechless, what was he supposed to say ? What should one say when your roommate who came from another time period came back with a fresh corpse on his shoulder ? Google would probably tell him to call the cops, but Dust obviously wouldn't do that.

Horror frowned when Dust didn't talk, wasn't he happy ? He said he didn't have meat, so he went out and brought him some, didn't that please him ? Or was he just in shock ? Was it the first time he had meat in his life and that was why he didn't know what to say ? Well, in that case, he would need to cook it perfectly to make sure Dust's first time eating meat would be a great experience !

Horror pushed the door to close it, walking past Dust to go put his axe down against the wall, next to the couch on which Nightmare and Killer were sitting. Killer had a wide smile on his face, seeming very excited about the meat he just brought back, as for Nightmare... it was hard to say. He had glanced at the axe when Horror put it down, and was now staring at him, his gaze planted in his eyesockets, his hand was firmly gripped on his cape, his breathing louder, but appart from that he didn't seem scared, he seemed more... mesmerized ? It was strange, and Horror decided not to think about it for now, he had meat to cook.

And to cook meat, he needed a fire, which meant he had to go in the backyard and collect some branches and leaves, anything that could catch fire.

Dust quickly ran to the backyard once he came back to his senses, looking at the big piece of meat on the outside table and at Horror who was visibly preparing material to make a fire. He wanted to say something, ask him where the meat came from, but his stomach growled at that moment, making Horror look up at him. And he smiled. A knowing smile. He knew he couldn't afford meat, and he knew he was hungry, so he went out and brought back meat. Maybe Dust didn't really want to know where the meat came from.

- I'll go grab a lighter.

He finally said, going back inside to take one of his many lighters, he quite smoking because the cigarettes were too expensive, so now he just had an army of lighters all scattered in his appartment.

He just sat behind Horror while he cooked above the fire. As unseasoned as the meat was, it smelled delicious, so much that he could have cried if he wasn't holding it back, not wanting to worry the Viking.

They all ate outside, and a few tears did come out as Dust bit into the hot ribs. It was just so good, to finally have meat in his plate, fresh meat that wouldn't expire in two days because it was on sale.

That, and not eating alone, even if the group was weird, he felt good, sitting outside with them, the warmth of the fire behind him, listening to them trying to understand each other and laugh at the poor pronunciation of the others when they weren't doing better themselves...

Yeah, Dust felt good, for the first time in ages, he didn't feel so lonely anymore...

Chapter Text

The moon was so high in the sky, everyone was sleeping. Everyone one except Nightmare, he had been unwell all day, since Horror came back from his hunt, he had found himself spacing out, not responding to either Killer nor Dust when they tried talking to him, having trouble concentrating enough to translate, and totally unable to look at Horror in the eyesockets. Now he was laying on his back, on the couch, staring at the ceiling.

What happened ? He had felt weird all afternoon, starting when Horror came back. He should have been horrified, the Viking came back covered in blood, holding a dead body on his shoulder, his stained weapon still in his hand. It has truly been an unsettling sight to see. He had put his axe, his blood stained axe, right next to Nightmare, and he had looked at him, planting his gaze in his, and Nightmare couldn't look anywhere else. Had he been scared ? Of course he had been scared, what kind of brute brought back his prey like that ? Still dripping with blood and without washing at least his hands ? But, he felt something new when his gaze met Horror's gaze...

He saw this brute, this man, holding a full corpse on his shoulder like it was a feather, covered in sweat and blood that wasn't his, his large hands holding an axe that looked no less heavy but that he manipulated with ease. And he felt his soul burn. He didn't know if his cheeks blushed, but he felt his whole body become hotter. When Horror left to cook he didn't know what to do, and Killer's staring at him with his grin didn't help him sort out his thoughts.

He couldn't think at all for the whole day, not participating in conversations during meals, he did his best not to look at the Viking, not to think about his hands, damaged by a hard life, about his muscular arms that could brobaly break him in half if he wanted to, hold him down and he wouldn't be able to move.

Nightmare shifted on the couch, turning his back to the living room, thinking about Horror above him and holding him down surprisingly didn't help calm his already racing soul.

Why did he feel so hot when thinking about the giant ? He shouldn't feel that way, Horror was a Viking, a brute who's only passtime was pillaging villages, killing men and kidnapping women for their own pleasure, there was nothing admirable in that. Really, thinking about Horror entering his home, breaking his belongings and taking him away to keep him as a prize, a trophy, was truly terrifying. And yet he felt his face burn at the thought of being taken by him, preciously kept away as a fancy war prize for only Horror to touch and see.

That wasn't right. Horror could kill him, or worse, he could do unspeakable horrors to him, make him suffer, torture him mentally and physically, then tend to his wounds to ensure he wouldn't die, keep him safe from other pillagers, dress him with riches to show off to the other Vikings, tell him he is his and his alone, that no one else would ever put their filthy hands on him...

Nightmare got up. He needed water. He went to the bathroom, feeling like he would faint at any moment with the heat in his body. He watched the water flow for a few seconds before taking some in his hands to splash on his face until he felt cooler. He stayed bent over the sink for a while before standing straight and looking at himself in the mirror. His brother would probably laugh if he was there. Seriously, how pathetic could he be ? Losing his composure like that like he was some young lady fresh out of the coven discovering what temptation was ? He shouldn't feel that way ! He was a noble man ! He went back to lay on the couch.

He had a future planned for him, he couldn't allow himself to be distracted like that, he had to marry a noble woman, a lady with the same rank as him, and give her kids to ensure the continuity of his prestigious bloodline. That was what every noble did, that was what his mother did, what she had told him to do before passing away. He had to marry someone rich and full of virtue, love wasn't even on the table, you didn't marry out of love. His mother didn't marry out of love, there had never been any love in anything she had done, from marrying to having children, she had done everything because it was her purpose as a noble woman, not once had she felt any love for them, for her husband for whom she didn't cry at his funeral and for her two children whom she always let her servants take care of. That was just how things were supposed to work. That was what Nightmare, and Dream, were supposed to do, their glorious future.

And yet he found himself dreaming for more, dreaming of love, passion, of someone to hold tight and to be held tight by, someone to tell him he would be okay, that he didn't have to marry anyone he didn't want to, that he could let his heart chose. He tried so hard to make the wedding happen as late as possible, finding excuses to refuse the many proposals he received. He was so scared of marriage. He didn't know why it scared him so much, he knew he would still be free, that it was only for business purposes, that he wouldn't have to pretend to love his wife and she wouldn't have to pretend to love him either, but he would still have obligations that came with marriage. Children were a big part of this. He didn't dislike children, but he knew he would have to be intimate, he wasn't stupid, he knew how that worked, but he couldn't imagine himself doing.... that, with a woman... It was right but it felt wrong, it was the natural order of things but it didn't feel natural to him. Sure he could lie and say either him or his wife was infertile and that was why they couldn't have children, but lying about that wouldn't bring any good to their reputation, and reputation was important. No, he couldn't lie, but he couldn't do that either. It just didn't feel right...

And when he saw Horror bent over him, when he imagined him holding him, taking him away from everything he knew and making him his... everything had felt so right, so natural. He wanted him, he wanted him so bad. He didn't want to marry a woman, but he wanted to be Horror's prize, he wanted to be his precious thing, he wanted him to rock his world and softly kiss him, to tell him he could have hundreds just like him but he was the only one for him. He wanted this wicked romance. He wanted the harsh and he wanted the soft. Horror was soft. Soft and patient. He was careful around them, respected boundaries, brought back food, didn't have any vile intentions, he was only looking to care for them, for Dust particularly, as he was their unfortunate host with not enough means to provide for everyone. He was a gentle giant. A gentle giant with great strenght. Nightmare wanted that.

He hated himself for wanting that. His mother would have hated him too if she was still alive. She had always hated him anyways. He shouldn't feel that. It wasn't proper for a noble. He was such a disgrace, a pathetic excuse of a noble, no wonder he always felt out of place among his pairs, he couldn't do things right, he couldn't even feel right.

He grabbed a pillow to press it against his chest, laying down facing the back of the couch. He wanted to dissapear, to go back home and never see any of them ever again, to talk to his brother, Dream always knew what to do, he was always right, never out of place, he was everything Nightmare wasn't. But he wasn't there, and Nightmare was alone to face these atrocious feelings. 

He hated it. He hated Horror for making him feel so good and so bad at the same time and he hated himself for allowing these feelings to take roots in his soul and for feeding them with his overthinking. 

He just hated himself so much right now. He hated how he felt and he hated that he was crying again. It was the only thing he was good at sometimes. Crying.

He was pathetic.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

The night was fresh, but not too cold, which was good as they were all sleeping outside. They arrived late, the sun was soon to set, they wouldn't find anyone willing to let them stay at their house at night. Cross didn't like that they had to sleep under the trees, the forest was dangerous, they were vulnerable in the dark, but the others had to rest, the jump had been tiring. 

He looked at them, Horror was sitting against a tree, Dust was next to him, seeking warmth as his clothes didn't look very warm, Killer was a little apart, he had climbed up a small tree to sleep far from the ground, and finally Nightmare was near the river, against a tree as well, seeming still mad as he kept his distance. Cross was standing guard. He couldn't go to sleep, someone had to watch out, and the others were tired, plus it was his job to protect them. He yawned, feeling his own tiredness emerging a little more, and went to walk around the area, trying to stay awake. He listened carefully, stopped to look around, but didn't spot anything.

When he came back to where the group was, Horror was awake. He looked at Cross when he arrived, relieved to see he wasn't far, and got up carefully as to not wake Dust up. Cross was ready to tell him he could go back to sleep, that there wasn't any danger and he just went to check, but Horror was faster.

- Sofa at ótt.

He told him, pointing at where he was previously sitting. Cross looked up at him confused, did he want him to sit ? He couldn't sit, he had to stand guard.

- Eo ne poez.

Cross declined, but Horror shook his head, not taking his refusal for an answer.

- Hvíla. He said to Cross, then pointed at himself. Gæta.

Cross kept staring for a while, not quite understanding what Horror wanted. Was there a problem ? Did he misunderstood ? Was Horror not asking him to sleep but wanted to tell him something else ? What was he trying to say ?

- Warde. Horror finally said, pointing at himself again.

That was French. That was a word in Cross's language. One he had used a few days ago when Dust told him he did a good job and could take a break. One Horror apparently remembered. Warde: guard. Horror wanted to stand guard with him ?

- Sleep. He pointed to Cross.

That was a word in Dust's language, one Dust had used quite often to say "dormir". Horror wanted him to sleep ? He wanted to take turn in standing guard to allow Cross to rest ? The offering was quite tempting, and Cross was tired, but it was his job to protect them ! He couldn't sleep on the job ! But again, if he was tired, he couldn't protect them properly as his attention span would be longer. He would put them in danger if he couldn't react fast enough... so maybe he could sleep a little, let Horror handle it for a while and come back after a quick nap ?

He looked at the place next to Dust. It was... even more tempting, to sit next to him, let him sleep on his shoulder... no time for distractions. He looked up at Horror and handed him his sword. Horror didn't have his axe anymore, he needed a weapon, even though Cross was sure the Viking could take someone in a fight with his bare hands and win, but prevention is better than cure.

Horror looked at the sword before looking up at Cross, confused, but ended up grabbing the sword when seeing his insistant gaze. He pat him on the shoulder, and went to take his place watching over them.

Cross looked at him before turning to Dust, who was still sound asleep against the tree. He felt his cheeks getting hotter the longer he looked at him. He was going to sleep so close to him. Would it be weird ? Would Dust be disappointed to see him instead of Horror when waking up ? Should Cross sleep somewhere else ?

Dust shivered, and Cross didn't think much longer before sitting down next to Dust and putting his cape around him. His clothes were so short, they didn't even cover his arms ! Killer was dressed shortly too, but he seemed to be more resistant than Dust to the cold. He didn't want him to be sick, so he would happily share his warmth.

His magic crackled in his soul when he felt Dust shift to get closer to him and he almost damned his armor for not letting him share more warmth by embracing the small skeleton. He didn't want to make him uncomfortable by pressing the hard metal against him. 

He watched him sleep, looking so peaceful, so calm and trusting, so easy to hurt, that Cross only wished to protect that look forever, to make sure that he would never feel like he was in danger, like he could never let his guard down... he wanted him to feel safe with him, to rely on him without any second thought, he wanted to be strong enough to protect him from any kind of danger, from a criminal to a dragon, he would keep Dust safe.

Dust and the others. He shook his head. He wanted to protect the others too, not only Dust, they were all important to him, they were... they were his friends ? They were friends, and Dust was his friend too so it was normal for him to want to protect him. And the others. Him and the others. He tried to focus on the group, but his mind kept coming back to the sleeping skeleton against his shoulder...

He was tired, he should sleep, and maybe the quick nap would help him sort off his thoughts about Dust... Dust and the others...

Dust shifted, opening his eyes after a yawn. He spotted Horror a little farther, and looked up to see who he was laying against. It was Cross, seemed like he took turn with Horror to stand guard. He grabbed the cape to pull it a little higher on his shoulders, and pressed himself against the knight to drift back to sleep. He was so cold, but at least the proximity helped a little with keeping some body warmth.

He missed his jacket.

Chapter Text

Morning came, and everyone had woken up, Cross first to take his turn in standing guard in a hurry after realizing he had slept for more than the planned few minutes, then Killer, who came by his side to keep him company, then Dust, who stayed next to Horror for the warmth, Horror who took a quick nap after his turn and then stayed with the small skeleton, and finally Nightmare, but he didn't move from his spot.

It was cold and humid, Cross needed to find somewhere dry where they could stay. He was walking around the area they had stopped in, thinking, as Killer was walking next to him.

- Quo tendimus ?

Killer asked, but Cross of course didn't understand. He stared at the roman with confusion.

- Iter ?

Killer tried again. Cross's confusion only grew, what was Killer trying to ask him ? Did he need something ? He didn't seem to have a problem, but maybe he was hungry ? They hadn't eaten since the previous day. Maybe Cross should try and hunt something, but how would he do that ? He only had his sword, and he clearly wouldn't be able to chase any prey in this armor. They should try to find someone, and maybe they'll have food for them.

- Mengier ?

Cross tried to ask him if he wanted to eat. Killer frowned, but quickly nodded once he understood the word. It was one of the few words they used regularly and knew how to say in the other languages.

- Sumemusne cibum omnibus ?

- Uh...

- Omnes: me, vos, Horror, Dust, Nightmare.

Killer explained, pointing at himself and Cross before mentioning the others. Did omnes, or omnibus as he said earlier, mean everybody ? It seemed so, Cross figured. Killer asked something about everybody, did he asked if the others were hungry too ? They most likely were, no one had eaten after all. They should find food for everyone. Cross nodded at Killer, to which he smiled, happy to have been understood. Now, where would they find food ?

Killer ran off.

- Killer ! Atendez !

Cross screamed at him to wait, running after the roman. Why did he run like that ? He wouldn't catch anything if he wasn't more discrete ! 

- Killer !

Cross called again, but the roman didn't stop and continued to sprint between the trees. 

Cross eventually caught up to him, only for Killer to slow down and come to a stop once he reached the end of the forest.

- Ne correz mie ainçois !

Cross said when arriving next to him, telling him to not run like that. The roman didn't listen, instead pointing at what seemed to be a town a little farther. Cross looked at it. It looked familiar. Too familiar. He got out of the woods first, careful, looking around for any sign of danger, and gestured to Killer to follow him once sure the area was safe. The roman joined his side, looking at the town, and waited for the knight to lead the way.

- Retez près de moy.

Cross ordered him to stay close to him, not wanting him to run off again. Both started to walk towards the oddly familiar town as it started to become obvious to Cross that they were in his own time as he recognized the buildings and the way people talked and were dressed. They entered by an alley, Cross first, Killer following close behind.

The knight stopped, looking from side to side, the people here didn't seem to notice him, but would they notice Killer ? He wasn't dressed like them, sure it wasn't as striking as the clothes the rest of the group was wearing, but it still was unusual. Cross made a sign to Killer to follow him before getting out of the alley into the streets, if the people saw that Killer was with him they would probably question his clothing a little less.

The two walked for a brief moment, soon reaching the village square with the merchants, and Cross turned in a tight alley between two houses. They needed to find a way to get one of the merchants to give them some food, which wouldn't be easy, as they didn't have any money on them at the moment, but maybe they could pay differently ? They could offer their help for whatever there needed to be done in exchange for food ? They had to try.

Cross turned to Killer to explain his plan, only to not find Killer behind him.

- Killer ?

He called, but received no answer. Where was he ? Did he lose him ? Did he lose him in the crowd ? How could he lose him ?! He was right behind him ! Wasn't he paying attention to his surroundings ?! 

Cross left the alley in a hurry, he needed to find Killer ! Luckily, or unluckily, he quickly heard a merchant yell, and not two seconds later he saw Killer running past him with a bag of bread in his arms. Cross didn't need to be a genius to understand that Killer stole those, which, of course, was the total opposite of being discrete.

- Killer ! 

Cross tried to call him again, running after him, but the roman was faster than he was as he wasn't running with an armor on. He saw Killer take a turn to the left before hearing a loud noise as if he had fallen on something. Cross hoped he didn't hurt himself, even if he was slightly relieved by the thought that he had stopped running. 

He followed Killer in the alley, before freezing: the thief was sitting on the ground, a hand above his bag ready to dive in and take out a knife at any moment, only held back to do so by the sword pointed at his throat. The knight standing in front of him was holding the bag of bread in his free hand. Killer's empty sockets were staring at the knight who's gaze wasn't visible under the helmet.

Cross looked at Killer, feeling his anxiety grow in his chest. Why didn't he do as told and stayed behind him ? Why did he have to run off on his own ? He didn't know how things worked here ! No, what was he thinking about ? It wasn't Killer's fault, all he wanted was bring some food to everyone, he couldn't be mad at him for that. Cross should have explained to him better how to behave instead of dragging him in the middle of the marketplace. He should have thought ahead, because now his friend was in trouble. He needed to help him.

Killer's gaze turned to Cross. He had to do something, to think fast and get Killer and himself out of here. But what could he say ? What could he say for the knight to let him go after having stolen food ? Should he blame it on himself ? Tell that he was the one to ask Killer to steal ? 

A voice spoke from behind him before he had time to say anything.

- Nos allons le prandre en carge, mercit.

The knight with the sword turned, looking at who just said they were going to take care of the thief on the ground, before nodding and putting his sword away, leaving with the bag of bread. Killer got up, and Cross turned around, having recognized the voice of his best friend immediately. The latter didn't leave him time to speak before almost jumping forward to embrace him.

- Cross ! Où estais-tu ?!

Blue cried in relief, asking his friend where he had been. Cross hugged him back, relieved too to see him as he sighed, grateful for his help with the other knight. Blue had always been here when he needed help, Cross didn't know if he deserved him, but he was so happy he was here. Now, what could he answer to his question ? Where had he been ? He didn't know for sure, he had been in another time, in another place, with other people from other places and other times, but where had it been exactly ? What could he say for Blue not to think he went crazy ? Would Blue even think he was crazy ? Probably not, he never looked down on him for any reason. He would explain everything to him later, for now they needed food.

Cross let go of him after a few seconds to turn to Killer who was waiting, knife in hand, looking between the two knights.

- Killer, mon amic Blue, Blue, mon amic Killer.

The two skeletons looked at each other, "amic" sounded like "amicus" so Killer assumed it meant friend. Was this knight a friend of Cross ? Judging by how he hugged him, it was highly probable. Blue seemed quite surprised but also excited to meet this new friend as he turned to Cross for more talking that Killer didn't understand. He put his knife away in his bag, and waited for Cross to finish, quite pissed that he didn't have his bag of bread anymore.

After a few minutes, Cross turned to Killer, signing to follow him.

- Omnes.

Everyone, he said, they had to go back to where everyone was, and so Cross lead them both out of the town. Cross's house was farther away, probably too far to reach before the night, but Blue had offered to help them get food and clothes, he knew a little inn that would let them stay for the night for free, the owner was a good friend of his, they would stay and go to Cross's place the next day, once in clean clothes and with full stomachs.

Cross was quite happy, he would get to introduce his new friends to his very best one, and they would eat in a warmer and dryer place than the woods. All would be well, he hoped.

He wanted them to have a good time in his time.

Chapter Text

Cross felt nervous, he didn't know quite why, he was going to introduce Blue to his friends and it wasn't like Blue was going to react badly given the fact he was happy to meet Killer and Killer is, well, a criminal, so if he was excited about Killer he would be excited about the others too.

They were walking between the trees, Cross leading them, when Blue caught up to Cross, leaving Killer behind. Killer was frustrated anyway, mad that he had lost the bag of bread.

- Tout va ben ? Blue asked if he was alright, seeing Cross's tensed look.

Cross glanced at him before quickly nodding, he was fine, he couldn't be more fine, Blue was going to help them, there wasn't any reason to feel anxious.

When they arrived Horror was up, standing guard, Dust was standing next to Nightmare, Horror's fur coat on his shoulders, and Nightmare hadn't moved, still sitting on the ground and looking in the opposite direction of Dust. Seemed like he was still pouting, Cross wondered how long it would last, hopefully not to long. Horror went to greet them, but stopped when seeing Blue.

- Ær ir hann ? He asked to Cross.

That sounded like a question, and judging by the situation and the look he just shot Blue, he probably asked who he was.

- Mon amic, Blue.

Cross replied as simply as he could, hoping Horror would understand, but his expression didn't let that show. Dust arrived next to them, looking at Blue who frowned when seeing his strange clothes but said nothing about that.

- "Amic" you said ?

Cross nodded, surely Dust knew what that meant, as he frowned for an instant before turning to where Nightmare was still sitting, turning his back to them.

- Hey Nightmare, amic is ami, right ?

Nightmare didn't answer.

- ... okay thank you, Killer can I have my dictionary ? The big book ? Dust asked, pointing at Killer's bag.

Killer tilted his head sideway before nodding and taking the big book out of his bag and handing it to Dust who thanked him and started looking through the pages.

- Okay so friend iiis... félagi ! He announced, looking up at Horror who nodded and smiled at Blue, before looking at the latter again. So you're Cross's friend ? Cool, I'm Dust, he's Horror, and the guy pouting is Nightmare, he introduced as he pointed at everyone.

- Blue, vous soiez le ben venu. He saluted with a bow.

Cross couldn't help but stare at Dust, amazed once again by his talents, managing to understand a whole situation with just one word and translating it in three languages, he was impressive, and he did it so effortlessly too. He snapped out of his thoughts when Blue elbowed his arm, turning his attention on him he saw his friend smile at him, arching a brow. Cross decided to ignore it for now, they had more important to do, he had to tell them there was an inn they could eat at.

- Il est une herberge, nos y allons mangier.

He didn't expect them to understand any word aside "mangier" which they all knew by now: eat, so he gestured in the direction of the town so that they would at least understand they needed to go there in order to eat. They nodded, at least Horror and Dust nodded, Nightmare was probably too far to hear them, so Cross pointed to Killer to go tell him they were leaving, as he was the only one having a language in common with the noble.

Killer went as requested, and Cross could hear what they were saying even though he didn't understand it.

- Relinquimus. Killer said.

Nightmare looked up to him, arching a brow.

- Iter bonum facite ?

Cross didn't know what Nightmare answered but it seemed to have taken Killer aback because he made a face as if he just heard the biggest nonsense of his life.

- Venisti nobiscum !

Nightmare didn't respond right away, then mumbled a "scilicet" as he got up and followed Killer to get back with the rest of the group, though he kept a little distance between them. Cross didn't know why he was so distant all of a sudden, but maybe he just didn't like the change of environment. He would have to ask him when they got to his home, and maybe he'll even relax on the way there.

And so they made their way towards the town, Blue leading everyone and Cross walking behind to make sure everything was alright. They walked through little streets as to not meet too many people, and ended up arriving in front of an inn, not far from the big place of the town, but a little bit hidden behind other buildings. It seemed closed, but Blue knocked anyway.

A few moments later a rather short skeleton opened the door, he had beige eyelights and wore an apron, he smiled when he recognized Blue but the smile quickly turned into a frown when seeing the others and he pulled Blue inside to talk to him in private. Cross knew him, he had been to his inn quite a few times: Ccino was a good friend of Blue.

They patiently waited outside, Cross praying that he would let them in despite being closed, and when finally he opened the door again and Blue ushered them inside he couldn't hold back a relieved sigh.

They all came in, Cross closing behind them. The restaurant part was clean and the chairs were on the tables, though Ccino was already putting some down for them to sit on. It was a nice place, it was warm thanks to the fire burning in the fireplace and the heat from the kitchen, and a few stray cats were trotting through the place and between the tables, they were necessary to chase off the mice but Ccino also took pleasure in feeding and taking care of them, so much that he had rearranged some spots especially for them to nap on. Killer gasped when seeing the cats and almost instantly crounched down to be at their level, petting every cat that came near him with a wide smile on his face. Horror bent down to pet one when feeling the little animal press itself against his leg, the cat was soon to purr and demand more gentle pats from the giant. Nightmare watched him for a second before frowning and turning to look at something else. Dust was inspecting every details, walking around carefully without touching anything to take closer looks, seeming mesmerized by every little thing. He took out his magical rectangle and put it in front of what he was looking at, Cross didn't understand what he was doing, but he seemed happy to do it and was smiling, his eyelights clearly shining.

Blue ushered them towards the table, Ccino having left to the kitchen to prepare something quick for them to eat. They all sat down, thought Killer seemed sad to leave the cats so he grabbed one to keep it on his laps; the cat accepted its fate and purred loudly.

Ccino soon came back with everyone's plates, he had leftover chicken soup from the previous day, it was still good to eat.

- Bon repast. Ccino bowed, wishing them a good meal.

The group thanked him, all eager to eat something hot after having spent the whole night outside. A cat jumped on Nightmare's laps, making him jump and Killer snort.

- Awww, tibi dicit salve ! He cooed, petting the cat, though Nightmare seemed embarrassed to have been surprised.

The noble didn't answer anything, gently nudging the cat to try and get him to jump down but quickly giving up when it didn't move from his laps. Guess he was the new napping spot.

Their meal was calm, Blue asked Cross many questions about his new friends and where he had been and Cross answered the best he could, quite relieved that his best friend seemed so accepting of the others and excited to know them better.

When they were done eating Cross helped Ccino with the dishes as to thank him for the free diner and also the rooms. Ccino had told him he had prepared two rooms with clean clothes for them to put on, that it was old clothes people either left behind or that he kept in case people in need came by here, like now. Cross was very thankful.

When he joined the others to figure who would sleep in which rooms, he was surprised to see only Blue was waiting for him, a big smile on his face, seeming too excited for it to mean something good. Cross knew he had something planned, and he would soon figure out what: Blue had decided who would go where.

There were two rooms with three beds each, and they were six: Blue, Horror and Nightmare would sleep in the first room, and Killer, Dust and Cross in the second. Of course Blue had put Cross with Dust, he saw the way he looked at him.

Cross wasn't so happy anymore about Blue's investment. 

Blue, however, was delighted.

The night would be long.

Chapter Text

Cross slowly entered his room, the room Blue decided he would share with Dust and Killer, in which his two roommates were already waiting for him, looking at the clothes they were given to see if they were their size or if they had to exchange them. He shakily closed the door, sealing his fate. Why was he so embarrassed ? It wouldn't be the first time he would sleep near Dust, hell he slept against him the previous night ! But the previous night they were outside and didn't have anything else to stay warm but themselves, here there were beds, they were in a room, an intimate place.

Cross glanced at the furniture, it was a small room, with three beds, one with the head against the left wall, one against the back wall, and one against the right wall, with a nightstand besides each and a big closet for everyone. Killer's bag was on the bed on the right, Cross supposed he choose this one to sleep on, which meant Dust's bed would be either the middle one or the one on the left, and in each case, he would be the closest to Cross.

When he turned back to face the others they seemed to have chosen their clothes. Dust had his hands in his pockets, surely to make sure he didn't forget anything, and pulled out a green leaf, a piece of lettuce, that he looked at for a moment before handing it to Cross.

- Here hold this, he said before going on the middle bed to change his clothes.

Cross took the lettuce hesitantly, what did it mean ? Why did he give him lettuce ? Did he want him to eat it ? Was it a gift ? Did Dust gift him food ? Why would he gift him food, wouldn't he want to keep it in case he was hungry ? Did he worry Cross would be hungry ? Did he worry about his health ? About his strength ? Cross was strong enough to protect him, he shouldn't worry about that !

The piece of lettuce suddenly got snatched from his hands, looking up he saw Killer bit into it and eat it. His lettuce ! He had stolen his lettuce ! The lettuce Dust gifted him ! 

Why was he so emotionally invested for a piece lettuce ? He needed to rest. He looked at Dust again, Dust was shirtless. His gaze shot at the wall, and he heard Killer whistle.

- Visum pulcher est !

He heard Dust answer with an outraged scream, putting his shirt in a hurry.

- What the fuck Killer don't look ?!

The Roman only chuckled before going to his bed, letting Dust mumble.

- Cross is the only civil one I swear, thank you Cross.

The knight knew what "thank you" meant, did Dust thank him for not looking at him ? Did that mean he could look now ? He slowly turned, and sighed when seeing Dust dressed in a shirt and pants. He looked... graceful in those. It wasn't fancy clothing, but the size being a little too big for Dust made it look like it was floating around him.

He looked away, not wanting to stare for too long, and glanced at Killer. He was sitting on his bed and had lost his smile, looking at the clothes. Were they not to his liking ? Was there a problem ?

- Y a-t-il un problesme ? Cross asked.

- Convertite. He said, making a spinning motion with his hand.

Did he want them to turn around ? That would be logical since he was going to change. Cross didn't want to see him naked.

- Oh so you can look at me but I can't ? That's not fair. Dust complained.

- Converte ! Killer asked again, frowning, looking quite uncomfortable.

- Fine, fine, I'll turn, I don't want to see you bare bones anyway.

Dust put his hands in the air as he turned, respecting Killer's intimacy. Cross did the same and used this moment to take off the armor and stay in the thin clothes he had underneath. He sighed, feeling much less heavy now, less hot too. He liked his armor, but he had to admit he liked taking it off more than putting it on. When he turned around again Killer was in his new clothes, looking at his legs, had he ever wore pants before ? Well, at least he seemed to have put them on correctly.

He looked at Dust who was now looking through the closet. Was he looking for something ? A blanket maybe ? Was he cold ?

- Dust ? Tout va ben ? Cross asked if he was alright, coming next to him.

- Huh ? Oh, yeah, just looking for something I could use as a hood, you know, since I don't have my jacket, and I ain't gonna keep that ugly ass fast food cap.

Cross hadn't understood a word of what he just said. He hesitantly picked a cover, hoping it was what Dust was saying he needed, and handed it to him.

- That's, uh... too big, but thanks ! It's chilly in here, he thanked him, taking the cover to put it on his bed and going back to the closet.

Was it not what he wanted ? Was it not enough ? Did he want more ? Did he only take it to be polite but wasn't looking for a cover at all ? Oh God, did Cross just embarrass himself by giving him something totally unrelated ? Oh he hoped Dust wouldn't think he was stupid...

- Ah, there it is ! Dust exclaimed.

He took out a sort of cape that he wrapped around his shoulders before pulling the hood over his head. Was it what he was looking for ? Maybe Cross wasn't so far off then... maybe Dust wouldn't think he was dumb... all hope wasn't lost, it seemed.

He glanced at the window, the sun was setting already. They should go to sleep, the previous night wasn't really restful. 

- Nos devrions dormir. He stated, as everyone knew that "dormir" meant "sleep".

Dust nodded as he went on his bed.

- You're right, well, good night guys.

- Bone noit, Cross wished them good night, going on his bed too.

Killer was already laying down and didn't answer, Cross thought he was already sleeping but his sockets were wide opened. 

- Killer ? He called.

Killer perked up.

- Hm ? Oh, cogitavi aliquid... noctis bonum. He said, laying back down.

Cross almost wished Nightmare was here to translate, but he was in the room next to them so he would just have to hope Killer said he was fine and go to sleep... he would have preferred sleeping with Dust...

What an indecent thought to have. Blue really knew what he was doing when putting him with Dust. Speaking of Blue, he wondered how it went with the other two ? He was sure everything was alright, Blue had a talent to make friends rapidly.

On the other side of the wall, however, things weren't going as smoothly as Horror wished it would have gone: Blue and him didn't understand a word of what the other would say, and even if Horror knew a few, Blue didn't know any, which made having a conversation practically impossible, and Nightmare wasn't of any help as he had spent all the time sitting on the edge of his bed, the one on the left, staring at the floor and pulling on the end of his sleeve, not paying them any attention.

To be honest, Nightmare had been distant since they arrived in this new period, Horror first thought he was mad because he was dirty, but he hadn't changed his clothes yet despite having clean ones next to him and had looked more distressed than anything since they entered the room. Horror was worried about him, frankly. Was he sick ? Did he hurt himself when he fell in the mud ? He hadn't looked hurt and Cross had already checked on him, but maybe he hid it ? 

Blue seemed to have noticed the noble's discomfort too, but as a stranger, he hadn't dared invading his private space, so he turned to Horror instead.

- Va-t-il ben.. ? Blue asked.

Horror knew what "ben" meant, it was a word Cross often used when asking them if they were okay. He didn't know what to say apart from shaking his head, Nightmare obviously wasn't well, but he didn't know why exactly and that bothered him as he couldn't help him. 

Blue looked worried, his gaze going from the noble to the viking, and Horror decided to go check on Nightmare, even though he wouldn't understand him and seemed to have been avoiding his gaze, he couldn't just stay there and watch him be a nervous mess.

He approached from the side, making sure not to be in his blind spot.

- Nightmare.. ? He called, putting a hand on his shoulder as gently as he could.

He didn't expect Nightmare to jump, making himself flinch too, he didn't expect him to back down, to look so startled, so... afraid... Horror could see his chest going up and down with his breathing, he could see his eye looking so... watery...

Horror backed down too, not wanting to scare him more than he apparently already had. He didn't do it on purpose, he didn't mean to, he thought Nightmare wasn't scared anymore, he thought there was at least a bit of trust between them, that Nightmare trusted him at least not to hurt him. Did Horror do something that made that change ? Did he do something that made Nightmare afraid of him again ? He didn't recall doing anything bad, had he forgotten.. ? Was it something he did that he thought was normal but wasn't to him.. ?

Horror snapped out of his thoughts when he heard Nightmare's heel hitting the nightstand. He should leave him space.

- Harmfullr... he apologized. 

Horror went back to his own bed, the one on the right, to leave as much space to Nightmare as possible, not wanting to make him feel worse. Blue joined him, looking sorry for him.

- La noit porte consoil, au matinet ira miels... Blue tried to reassure him, patting him back. 

Horror nodded, though not having understood the knight's words, and simply sighed. He looked over to his friend: Nightmare had sat back on the bed, his hands clenched on his cape, his head turned in a way Horror couldn't see his face. Blue looked too, but decided against going to see him, leaving him alone for now was the best thing to do.

- Bone noit... Blue wished them good night, returning to his bed.

- Vel nátt... Horror answered.

He laid down on his bed, hoping that Nightmare would calm down on his own and change his clothes once the two others would be asleep, maybe he was shy after all and didn't want to change in front of them.

He really hoped he would be okay, even if he was scared of him, Horror at least hoped that Nightmare would be fine...

He didn't like seeing his friend so distressed and being so powerless to help him...

He liked the little noble...

Chapter Text

Cross turned around, making sure everyone was still following him as they left the town to the countryside where his house was. Blue didn't come with them, he had work to do after all, but he promised to be accessible if they ever needed anything or just wanted to hang out somewhere. Cross would never thank him enough for the help he gave them taking everyone to the inn, even if the night hadn't been so great for one of the two groups, they still were able to sleep inside with full stomachs and clean clothes.

Blue had explained to him what happened with Horror and Nightmare, that Nightmare seemed very stressed and scared of Horror and that made him sad. Cross had frowned at that, not understanding why Nightmare would be scared of Horror after all the time they spent in Dust's small house. He would surely have to ask him. He would have to ask him a lot of things, and judging by the noble's staying in retreat of the group, he wasn't sure he would get a satisfying answer, if he even get an answer at all...

He sighed, he would have preferred his time period to be peaceful and easy, not a game of survival followed by an awkward walk to his much too small for five persons house... where would they sleep ? He only had one bed and it was for one person. Horror couldn't even fit on it alone. Maybe he could improvise more beds with some straw, blankets and wooden planks ? He really wished he had a bigger house, he almost felt ashamed to welcome his friends in such a pathetic home... knights usually had nice homes or castles even, but knights also usually were nobles, and Cross wasn't, his family were peasants and he didn't have enough money to build a better house, so all he had was a peasant house with one room only. Was it too late to turn around and beg Ccino to let them stay in the inn a little longer ?

He felt someone tap his shoulder and turned his head to see Killer smiling at him.

- Quid cogitas ? He asked with his usual curiosity.

Cross frowned, looking around to see if Nightmare was in hearing range but he was at the far end of the line. Horror kept looking back at him, and Dust was watching the surroundings. He looked back at Killer, smiling awkwardly, not having understood what he asked. Maybe he wanted to know how long the journey was to his house ?

- Nos arriverons tres viste... ? He tried to tell him they'll arrive soon.

It was now Killer's turn to be confused, but he still nodded and silently followed him. Cross had the feeling it wasn't what Killer had asked him.

They continued to walk silently until finally they could see the small house with walls of stone and cob and a roof made of thatch in the middle of a field surrounded by the woods. A calm setting where people wouldn't be around to look at the weird group. It wasn't much bigger than Dust's house, but he at least had a bigger backyard and there would be less noise at night. Dust didn't seem to notice it, but the first few nights they were all bothered at least once by strange roaring noises outside: Dust told them it was the cars. They didn't know what cars were but they sounded like particularly aggressive beasts judging by how much they were roaring and yelling. Cross was glad he didn't have any of those near his house.

He turned to them once in front of the door, watching them analyze his little home.

- Cela est poi... mes benvenu.

It wasn't much, he said, but still greeted them before opening the door and letting them inside. The house was as small on the inside as it was on the outside, there was only one big room with the kitchen and a table en the right and a bed on the left. The only window was on the right of the door, and there was a ladder against the back wall to have access to a mezzanine used as a storage room for food or various equipment. The floor was made of earth, it wasn't the cleanest but it was compacted enough not to be too dirty either. They were lucky not to have arrived during the coldest season as they could live without making a fire for now, which meant not too much smoke inside, and no muddy ground either.

He let them discover the house, a little anxious as he knew it probably wasn't the luxury they expected. Well, Horror and Killer probably didn't expect anything as they seemed rather pleased, Killer having already shove a small candle holder in his bag, but Nightmare and Dust most certainly were aware of what riches a knight was supposed to have, and it did make Cross nervous regarding their reaction: he didn't want Dust to look down on him because he wasn't from the noble class like the other knights, and he didn't want Nightmare to be even more grumpy than he already was because of the persisting lack of luxury.

He looked at Dust first, watching him examine every little thing in the house and pointing his magic rectangle at everything. 

- So that's how people lived in the Middle Ages... he mumbled to himself, thoughtful, but aren't knights supposed to be, like, rich or something ? He turned to Cross, are you one of those knights who aren't nobles ? I heard it was possible in certain cases..

Cross understood "rich" and "nobles" as Dust often used those words to refer to Nightmare. Was Dust asking if he was a noble ? Was he asking why the house wasn't bigger or why they weren't in a castle right now ? Was he asking where his money was ? He did have an income and spared as much as possible but he still spent money to buy food, clothes, materials and all sort of things, sure he made a little garden behind his house to grow his own vegetables, but he still had to buy many things so he didn't really have enough money to build another house. And this one was enough for one person anyway so he didn't see the point in changing. Until now.

He shook his head.

- Eo n'ai mie molt ecus...

He didn't have much money, he told him, and saw Nightmare shooting him a look but not saying anything. Dust frowned, this time shooting Nightmare a look, but he had already reported his attention on something else so Dust looked back at the knight. Cross felt his nervousness grow the longer Dust stayed silent, hoping the house in itself would give him enough context to understand. He was smart, he would surely understand fast ?

- ... Welcome to the broke club I guess ? He finally replied, smiling awkwardly, before returning to his inspection.

Was it a good sign ? Did he understand ? Did he accept it ? 

- Cross ? Horror called.

The knight turned around, Killer had disappeared but judging by the noise he was on the mezzanine so Cross didn't worry much and looked at Horror.

- Einga einn beðr ? Er sofa ? Uh.. sleep.. ? He asked, pointing at the single bed.

Right, Cross needed to make another bed for them, he did have a bench next to the table on the kitchen side of the house but they couldn't sleep on a bench. He would need planks, straw and covers, which would normally be in the storage on the mezzanine. He searched for his words for a moment, he was sure he remembered Dust say the word that meant plenty of something...

- Uh.. more.. ? He tried, then pointed at the mezzanine. 

Horror frowned and looked up, it took him a while but he eventually nodded. Cross smiled, happy to have been understood, and quickly went to climb the ladder to join Killer. The Roman was looking throught a box containing all of Cross's belongings from when he was a child. It wasn't much, he had became an orphan quite early and didn't have many things in the orphanage, only some old toys, a torn bandana, a small clay cup and the wood plate with his name carved on it that he had on his bed. Killer was examining the toys with a certain delicacy, holding them carefully, he looked... thoughtful... 

- Killer ? He called softly.

The roman flinched, turning quickly, he almost looked guilty as his gaze went from Cross to the toy before coming back to Cross again. The knight frowned as he tilted his head, he didn't mind Killer looking throught his stuffs, it wasn't like he had anything important in this box anyway, as his parents didn't exactly leave him a big legacy to carry...

- Tout va ben.. ?

Cross asked if he was alright before going to kneel next to him as Killer looked down at the toy again: a little wooden horse with wheels, he was spinning one with his thumb.

- Quid tibi utor is... ? Killer finally asked in a whisper.

Cross didn't like hearing him so unsure, it didn't suit him, the Roman was supposed to be energetic and self assured. He hated not being able to answer him, that question sounded important, and he didn't understand it. Killer handed him the horse, looking at him with insistence. 

- Ostende mihi... ? He asked again.

Cross took the horse, unsure as he looked at his friend. Killer seemed almost pleading as he stared at the toy. The knight wasn't sure what to do, did Killer want him to use it ? He didn't know, but still he put the horse down and gave it a little push to make it roll towards the Roman, a faint smile appearing on his face as he watched the horse roll in front of him. Killer reached to it when it stopped, pushing it again to make it roll the other way. 

Cross looked at him play for a moment, wondering if his toys were so different from those in Killer's time for him to look so amazed by a simple rolling horse. He glanced at the box again, and reached inside to take out a small bird shaped ceramic whistle and a wooden spinning top. He tapped Killer's arm to get his attention. The Roman looked up at him, the horse bumping on his knee. Cross put the whistle against his lips, gently blowing inside to create a sound. He saw Killer's sockets widen as he looked at the whistle curiously, wanting to reach to it but stopping his hand mid-air.

Cross smiled before handing him the toy, letting him take it carefully to examine while glancing at the knight from time to time.

- Essaie... he encouraged him to try.

Killer stared at him for a moment before slowly moving the bird towards his mouth, pressing it against his lips after another few seconds, and blowing a little stream of air. He almost looked surprised to hear the whistling noise, looking at Cross before blowing again. Cross couldn't help but chuckle at his curiosity, seeing him discover the toys was almost cute... he grabbed the spinning top, making it spin in front of Killer who was following its movement while holding the bird, before getting up, letting him have his little moment while he went to grab a bale of straw. 

He pushed it toward the edge of the mezzanine, made sure nobody was underneath, and let it fall on the ground, liberating a cloud of dust. He heard Nightmare sneeze, followed by a "bless you" from Dust. He then gathered the planks and covers and went back down with the material. Horror was waiting for him, seeming ready to help as he grabbed the planks and waited for his instructions with a smile.

Cross smiled back, maybe their time here wouldn't be so terrible after all...

Chapter Text

The first night in Cross's house had been fairly calm, Horror and him had managed to make a bed for everyone, though Nightmare preferred sleeping on the bench on the kitchen side of the house, Cross couldn't blame him honestly, straw wasn't what someone would call a fancy beding, compared to it anything would be better, even a bench. Killer was very happy with the straws and kept making little braids with it, five in total, and he gave one to everyone afterward. Horror was fine too, Cross never heard the viking complain about anything anyway, so either he was really fine with it or he was just very polite. Dust was strangely excited, Cross didn't think it was possible to be excited about straw beds after having used the amazing couch in his house but here he was, mumbling things to himself as he sat on the bed.

It luckily hadn't rained, so the humidity didn't come in and they were able to keep a certain warmth inside of the small house. Usually peasant houses shared the space with the cattle and the warmth of the animals would heat up the house, but Cross was a knight, he didn't have animals, so he had to rely on fire, but as he didn't have infinite wood he would most of the time keep it to cook and use this heat to warm himself up.

Cross had been the first to wake up and had rapidly been followed by Horror. He saluted him with a smile.

- Dieus vos doinst boinjor.

- Kveðja, ér sofa vel ? Horror answered.

"Vel" meant "well", that Cross was sure, and he remembered Horror using "sofa" to say "sleep", with these two words he guessed he must have either asked if Cross slept well or informed him that he slept well. Cross nodded, both answering the question if it was aimed at him and showing satisfaction if it wasn't.

- Volez avoc moy aler a jart ? Cross asked if Horror wanted to go to the garden with him, pointing at the door.

He needed to pick some vegetables for dinner and the others were still asleep, so he might as well grab them now and not bother his friends later. Horror looked at the door, frowning slightly.

- Ek þurfa vitja úti ? He asked, confused.

Cross was confused too, what did Horror understand ? He looked around for a second before grabbing a basket and showing it to Horror, then going to the door and signing for him to come along as he went outside and around the house towards the small garden. Horror followed, curious, and watched as Cross pointed at the different plants than at the basket. Did Cross want him to pick those plants and put them in the basket ? He slowly picked a carrot and looked at Cross as he put it down, seeing him nod, he smiled, and both of them started picking the vegetables, teaching each other their names. It was nice, and when they went back inside, everybody was up.

Cross put the basket on the table, letting Dust inspect it, he seemed rather curious about the vegetables, surely comparing them to those he had at home. He glanced at his countertop, he had just enough bread for today and maybe tomorrow morning, he would need to go in town tomorrow in the afternoon and buy some more. He could bake some, sure, but it was time consuming so he preferred buying already prepared ones. He also checked his water supply, he needed to go to the well.

- Eo dei a puit aler. Dust, volez moy sivir ? Cross gathered all his courage, asking Dust to follow him.

Dust looked up at him, thinking, his sockets always squinted a bit when he was thinking, and he ended up looking at Nightmare who was staring at the bench, well, not the bench, but the little straw braid Killer made him and that he had put on the bench for the night.

- Nightmare ? What d-

Nightmare flinched and sharply turned to look at him.

- Oop, sorry, didn't mean to startle you, Dust apologized, what does "sivir" mean ?

Nightmare hesitated, his gaze diverting for a second, before he talked, for the first time since the forest, though his voice was low, not as self assured as when he would talk in Dust's time.

- S.. suivre.. ? He stuttered.

Everybody caught that, but nobody commented.

- Suivre ? Dust repeated, like uhh... I know this word, I've seen it on social media... oh ! Follow ! Yeah ! He turned to Cross, smiling, yeah I'll follow you ! I'll uhh.. sivir vos.. ?

Cross smiled, feeling a rush of warmth in his chest, he just invited Dust to the well, he did that, oh god. He quickly nodded and grabbed two empty jars before heading to the door that Dust opened for him.

- Nos anteruns viste !

They will be back soon, he said as he went out with the hoodied skeleton, leaving the three others together.

- So... what's a "puit" ? Dust asked as they walked.

- Por panre l'aigue, li n'en estat gueres à maise.

He explained as simply as he could, telling him it's to take water as he didn't have any at home. Dust just frowned.

- Huh-huh. Well you know what ? "Aigue" sounds like "agua" in Spanish and since you've got jars I'm gonna say it's for water. That or wine. I don't know what people usually drink in the Middle Ages.

He finally answered. Did he understand ? Cross had no doubt he did, Dust was smart, he always figured out stuff.

- Now if we're going to grab some water I guess it's either a river or a well ?

Cross liked hearing Dust talk, he had such a sweet voice, so confident and yet always sounding unsure at the end of his sentences, as if he was expecting to be wrong about every supposition he made when really he was probably the most smart of them all.

- ... Did I say something stupid ? Dust frowned, sounding a bit nervous.

Why would he feel nervous ? Cross didn't see any reason to feel- oh god he had been staring. He quickly shook his head and looked forward, a purple blush on his cheekbones.

- P-pardon. He apologized.

- Okay..?

The walk to the well was... awkward, Cross didn't dare look at him, he didn't want to stare again, at least with his arms holding the jars he wasn't tempted to grab Dust's hand.

Once they arrived Dust looked at the stone well with wonder. Was it the first time he saw a well ? He did have water directly in his house, so maybe wells weren't a thing anymore in the future ?

Cross put the jars down, grabbing the bucket attached to the log above the well to make it fall in until it hit the water and slowly filled itself. Dust was watching carefully, bent over the hole, his eyelights were almost sparkling with curiosity and Cross could see the water reflecting on his bones... he would give anything to be allowed to hold him close and-

- It's full, Dust announced, straightening.

- O-oh uh, oil.. ! Cross was brutally shaken out of his thoughts.

The bucket was full, so Cross pulled on the lever until it came back all the way up to grab it and pour the water in the first jar, when he straightened up Dust was looking at him. He made a grabby motion towards the bucket.

- Can I try ? He asked, badly masking his excitement.

Cross couldn't help but blush as he handed him the bucket and watched as he put it back in the well to wait patiently for it to fill. He didn't think such a simple activity would interest Dust so much, and yet here he was, happily filling the jars with water. There was something childish and yet so attractive to it, Cross wanted to protect that, he wanted to protect that amazement for everything that surrounded him.

- Estrez tanz jolif... Cross said without thinking.

He instantly blushed, he really didn't mean to call Dust pretty. Well, Dust was pretty, but he didn't mean to say it to his face !

- Huh ? Dust answered, not having heard as he was putting the bucket back on the edge of the well.

- E-Eo diseie nos devrïens antrer !

He corrected, saying they needed to go back home as he grabbed the two full jars.

- Oh, we're going ? Don't you want me to hold one ? They look heavy, Dust asked him, going to grab a jar but Cross stopped him.

- Eo puys porter, mercit ! He thanked, telling him he could hold them.

- If you say so, Dust didn't insist.

Cross smiled at him, and lead the way back home with two full jars and a soul racing like never before.

He really needed to get his thoughts under control.