Chapter Text
Cross knew when he joined Nightmare’s gang that all of the others had horrible pasts and yet he couldn’t help but think of them as heartless murderers. Killer’s constant joking and irresponsible nature just added to the points he was making in his head, about why his suffering had been worse than theirs. It made him happy to think he was better than them, certain that what he was doing wasn’t anything like them. Everyone had a pretty bad impression of Cross, he was egotistical and arrogant, never realizing that he wasn’t as amazing as he made himself out to be.
Even with all the jeering comments thrown his way by his teammates, Cross never believed one word of it. Nightmare was beginning to get frustrated by how self-centred Cross is, far too certain he was always in the right because he’d seen some shit. It was getting all of their nerves, so they planned to get him off his high horse. The rude comments did nothing to Cross, so they began messing with his stuff when he was out on missions.
Killer broke into Cross’s room alone, the others out on their own missions or just busy in general. He was expecting a bunch of stuff to be strewn about the room, only to find it mostly empty. The closet held only two changes of clothes and the desk that was up against the wall had nothing in it at all. It was disappointing, but Killer wasn’t done his search for dirt on the former royal guard member. With so little in the room, it was easy to guess where he’d hide important things, under his mattress was Killer’s first guess and he guessed right.
Excitedly he held the leather-bound notebook up in the air, celebrating his find. Killer sat down on the perfectly made bed and started reading, expecting to find some dumb stories to hold over the other’s head. His excitement wore off as he read, finding out about how Cross’s universe met its end and how Ink abandoned him. Some parts made him uncomfortable and upset, stuff that had Killer relating to Cross of all people. As much as Killer was driven crazy by his behaviour, knowing that he lost his universe and was just trying to feel better made it harder to be mad.
Smoothing out the blanket, Killer stood up and left the room with the journal in hand. He wanted to read more and understand Cross so they could get along. Upon returning to his room, Killer laid down and read the rest of Cross’s journal. Of course, it mentioned how Killer’s constant jokes made him think that he didn’t care about anyone, so he wanted to prove that he could care.
Cross came back looking tired and in need of a shower, so Killer stayed clear of him to avoid making things even worse between them. The journal was already back in place, so Killer waited and waited, looking for the perfect moment to prove himself to Cross. He didn’t even know why he wanted Cross to like him, all he knew was that they were similar and he didn’t want to offend him. It was clear to him that Cross could be nice if he tried, but he didn’t want to try when he thinks he’s surrounded by cold-hearted killers.
The sound of water disappeared and a moment later Cross stepped out of the shower room in clean clothes, “Heya, how’d your mission go?”
“Why do you care? Why are you even out here?” Cross was suspicious of Killer right away.
“Am I not allowed to ask how your mission went? I just wanted to know,” Killer tried to not get angry at Cross, his goal still in place.
“Fine, it was fine, now leave me alone,” the grumpiness that Cross was giving off meant Killer had to stop for now.
“Alright, see ya later,” Killer waved as he ran back to his own room.
The next morning he greeted Cross at breakfast and steered clear of the jokes that made him so mad. It was clear of Cross’s face that he was confused by the sudden kindness from the person most likely to make fun of him for his little mistakes. Cross was on edge, trying to figure Killer out and being completely unable to. Normally something like this meant he was about to be made fun of or pranked, but none of that happened. After most of the day passed and nothing bad had happened Cross felt that he had to confront Killer.
“Why are you being so nice? It makes no sense compared to how you usually act,” Cross snapped at Killer, seeing the other flinch slightly at the sudden loud noise.
“I thought it would help us get along better, you know Nightmare likes teamwork. It’s to make the Boss happy, our bickering makes him annoyed,” Killer simply responded, making up lies to hide his actual reason.
“Oh,” all the anger drained out of Cross, “I thought you were going to prank me again or something.”
“You know I had to clean that up last time and it took hours.”
“I know, I just thought that you’d be dumb enough to do it again.”
“I’m not that dumb Criss-Cross, you really misjudged me.”
“Hey, don’t call me that!”
“Fine, Crossy.”
“Stop teasing me!”
“Can’t help it, you’re just too cute,” the second Killer let the words out he regretted them and was confused by them.
Cross was sputtering, trying to retort and coming up blank. His face was flushed with a purple blush, one that matched the red one on Killer’s face. Neither of them knew what to say to that and Killer ended up running away first. He locked himself in his room and beat himself up over his slip-up, he was certain he was going to be made fun of for his mistake later. Killer started to get mad at himself, last time he genuinely flirted with someone was back in his own Au and then he ended up murdering them.
Internally he kept beating himself up over it, alerting Nightmare of Killer’s emotional distress. He teleported into the darkroom and found Killer wrapped up in blankets on the floor. It wasn’t often that he got like this and he knew to be gentle with how he handled the situation. Killer’s emotions were always messier than anyone else’s, making him unpredictable when he got vulnerable. Nightmare was aware Cross was also dealing with complicated emotions at the moment and he had to assume the newest member of his team was the cause for Killer’s emotional state.
“Killer, what’s wrong?” Nightmare used a tentacle to tilt his head upwards so he’d look at him while they talked.
“I messed up and said something dumb, Cross probably hates me now,” Killer tried to look away, wanting to pretend that he wasn’t talking to anyone else.
“What did you do? Because he doesn’t seem upset, mostly confused and curious at the moment.”
“I flirted with him and called him cute, I don’t even know why,” Killer shouted, tears starting to fall down his face.
“Why is that such a problem? You flirt with plenty of people.”
“I actually meant it this time and I don’t want to get attached. What if he gets hurt and we lose him? It would just hurt me more than it should, which is bad.”
“If you meant it, then you should tell him. Both of you will just get more hurt if you nothing about your feeling and that’s quite obvious.”
“Later, I’m not ready yet.”
“Make sure you actually do it later.”
With that Nightmare disappeared into a puddle of goop, leaving Killer alone to sort through his emotions. Cross was busy trying to understand what happened and trying to figure out if Killer was just trying to mess with his emotions like Ink did. He fell for him and then he was abandoned, left for dead in his dead world. It wasn’t like Cross hadn’t expected it, Ink did that and had admitted it to him many times. This was just too much for him, romantic relationships were always scary for Cross.
Nobody had ever loved him anyway, they loved the thought of getting it on with him. There weren’t many female skeletons out there, so they pounced at the thought of Cross and then they got disappointed when they found out he identified as male. They still wanted him, just because they all thought they could make him love being called a girl again, only to be disappointed by him getting mad. He didn’t even know Killer had been in a relationship where he was loved like that too, for what he was born as and not what he wanted to be.
Killer and Cross had messed up pasts and didn’t know how to tell each other that they’re the same.