“Do you ever feel like you’d be better off dead?”
Dust’s quiet voice broke the silence that had previously filled the study, a calm absence of speech occasionally broken by papers rustling.
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, darling. Is something the matter?” Nightmare sat upright, casting their book to the side.
“No…? I don’t think?” Dust’s gaze was focused intently on the unlit fireplace to her left, her avoidance of Nightmare’s gaze obvious.
The twitching of Nightmare’s tentacles behind them was the only true tell of its own nerves, the tips flicking back and forth like an agitated cat’s tail. “Alright,” Their voice was cool and calm, its gentle baritone an obvious balm against Dust’s soul. “If that changes you can always tell me, darling. I’m here for you. I love you.”
Silence fell once again over the study, and Nightmare picked up their book again. The quiet rustling of the pages turning and the soft texture of worn paper under its hands felt like home, pulling away the concern overwhelming their soul.
Nightmare caught the deep breath Dust took out of the corner of their eye, slowly pulling its gaze away from their stories and back onto its girlfriend.
Her voice was shaky, hesitant, as she spoke. “I keep having this dream.” She paused to take another shaky inhale, “And… In it, Cross dies. He kills himself. And… Somebody, I never get to look at the contact, texts me his suicide note. And it’s…. Something. And- In the dream, I go to his funeral. And the next day, I wake up and Killer’s dead too. And she- She- I actually remember her note, occasionally. But it’s- It’s just nonsense. A bunch- A bunch of rambling about purple flowers. Uh- Hyacinths, I think?” Dust’s eyelights stayed focused on the empty fireplace, her hands fidgeting in her lap.
“Mhm,” Nightmare hummed a quiet acknowledgement, not wanting to say anything else and interrupt their love’s train of thought.
“I- Um- I’m sorry, can I sit over there with you?” Dust’s eyelights finally met Nightmare’s, allowing the other to see the faint lavender tears beginning to build in her sockets.
“Of course, cherie.” Nightmare shifted to one side of the loveseat, struggling to suppress the urge to flinch when Dust teleported next to them. It opened its arms welcomingly, allowing the smaller skeleton to burrow into their cardigan. It rubbed a thumb on the back of the other’s skull, the worn fabric of the scarf wrapped around her skull soft against their hands.
Dust’s voice was muffled when she began speaking again, the thick fabric of Nightmare’s sweater creating a warm barrier between her voice and the quiet study. “In that same dream, everyone else dies too. Y’know- Blue an’ Lust, Dream, Ink… An’ Horror. H- H is the last to die, every time. An’- After her funeral, I’m alone. They. In the dream, they all kill themselves, and the notes change every time except for one, the last one that’s sent. The- The contact, sending the texts or… Whatever, also kills themself. And. in their note, they say…” Nightmare squeezed their love closer, a steady contrast to Dust’s shaking.
The shaking is accompanied by quickened breathing, which had been growing since the beginning of Dust’s speech. Nightmare gently places a hand under the little skeleton’s skull, lifting their face upwards. “Pause for a second, darling. You’re hyperventilating.” Dust’s fuzzy eyelights met theirs, the faint tear streaks all along the other’s face making her look absolutely miserable.
If Dust’s emotions were anything to go off of, she was miserable.
Dust nodded quietly, burrowing her face back into Nightmare’s sweater as she struggled to match Nightmare’s calmer breathing. They rubbed her skull in time with their steady breaths, watching as the other slowly relaxed ever so slightly.
“Thank you, darling. Good job.” Nightmare smiled at the faint spark of positivity under the thick layer of negativity that Nightmare was terrified embarrassed that he didn’t notice sooner. “Would you like to continue, Dust, or do you need a break?”
“I- I can keep going. I- It’s fine, I think? It’s- Just a dream, it’s not- It’s not that bad.”
“Darling, you don’t need to feel guilty for being upset.”
“Get out of my head, asshole.”
“Apologies, dear. Continue whenever you please, I’m here however long you need me.”
Dust took another shaky inhale before continuing, one of her hands seeking out Nightmare’s to grasp in a death grip. “The- The stupid last message just- It has a bunch of stuff saying it’s my fault for being needy, or- Constantly complaining, and that- I never listened to them, and I was just using them, and it- I finally got to see the contact name last night and-” She stopped, taking several deep breaths. “I know it’s just a dream, but. You’ve always told me that dreams have meanings, and I- I can’t help but feel like my subconscious is trying to tell me something, that y- they- they hate me and I just complain too much? And I just- I feel like such an ass but I’m afraid to ask them outright because what if they lie or what if they tell the truth and they do hate me and- I just- I’m terrified that y- they hate me?”
“Darling, anyone who hates you is a fool.” They gently tugged Dust upright to sit next to them, leaning on the shoulder instead of resting on its stomach. Her shaking had nearly doubled from the first time Nightmare had to stop her, the heat of her body against theirs growing as they pressed into Nightmare.
“But why? All I do is complain; and most days I barely even get out of bed and half the time I can’t even do half as much as Cross or Killer on a battlefield and- And I can never do anything for any of you! I just make my problems yours and never even let any of you do the same to me and-”
“Dust. Forgive me, but I’m going to interrupt you here. This doesn’t seem to be at all helpful.” They pulled her closer, placing a small kiss on her forehead. “It’s not your fault if you struggle. I am confident I speak for all of us when I say none of us mind you struggling, or when you come to us for help. I personally love nothing more than caring for others, it’s no stress to me to care for you. I love you, Dust. You are not a burden, no matter how mentally ill you are. What happened to you was horrible, and any person would struggle after that. That’s not your fault.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?”
“Oh.”
“....I am going to pray that is a positive ‘oh’.”
“It is. I guess. I just- I just didn’t. I didn’t realize you cared that much.”
Nightmare’s brow furrowed, a few of its tentacles slowly wrapping themselves around Dust. They raised their hands in an apology, but were instead met by Dust squirming her way onto its lap. She dragged Nightmare into a kiss, twisting her arms around their neck. Two equally bright blushes illuminated the room when the two pulled away, a slight smirk growing on Dust’s face at her partner’s expression.
“I don’t mind the tentacles. They’re nice. Make your hugs better.” One of Nightmare’s tentacles squeezed slightly tighter against her arm at the words, and Nightmare surged upwards to switch the two’s positions.
“That is not all they make better, cherie.”
“Really now? Prove it.”
“Anyday, darling.”