#saurexhas

Both of them looked up and glanced over in time to see their suspicions confirmed as Dream stepped into view. They immediately knew something was wrong when the young skeleton didn’t energetically bounce toward them and greet them with a cheerful “hello”. Rather, he stopped and leaned silently on the door frame, staring back at them with a petulant expression.

“Hey kid. What’s up?” Dust drawled, pretending not to notice Horror slip a card or three under the table.

Dream gripped the corner of his cape to his chest. “Do you know when Nightmare is coming home?”

“Soon . . .” said Horror.

“Is there something you need?” Dust added.

Dream furrowed his brow at the floor. “I . . . I feel really bad . . .”

The hooded skeleton crooked a finger at Dream.

“Come over here.”

As the child obeyed and walked across the room, Dust studied him closely with a sharpened eyelight.

Slow, sluggish steps. 

Flushed golden cheeks. 

Fuzzy, unfocused eyelights.

“Kiddo’s got a fever,” he said, his lazy grin thinning. 

Horror held out his hand toward Dream and, when he was close enough, pressed the back of it to his forehead.

The one-eyed skeleton stiffened. “You’re right . . .”

“What’s a fever?” Dream asked, his eyelights darting to each of them anxiously.

“It’s what happens when your magic is out of whack. Makes you feel all hot and stuffy. We all get one once in a while,” Dust answered.

“I thought . . . they didn’t get sick . . .” Horror muttered to him.

He shrugged. “Must be the you-know-what.”  

“I’m scared, Rory,” whimpered Dream, drawing their attention back to him. “I- I want Nighty.”

The moment the older skeleton saw his wobbling eyelight, he scooped the child into his arms, letting him burrow his face in his jacket while patting his skull gently. 

“It’s okay . . . you’re fine . . .” 

Dust pushed his chair back and threw his card on the table. “I’ll go find medicine. You get him to bed.”

Horror nodded, and in the blink of a socket, his companion was gone.

Cradling Dream tightly to his chest, he got to his feet and headed for his the sick babybone’s room. Horror was tempted to teleport as well, but he didn’t know if it would aggravate his feverish condition, so he opted for the slower, safer route of walking.  Dream certainly didn’t protest, and only clung tighter to Horror, taking comfort in his firm but gentle hold.

At last he entered the room, cautiously side-stepping around the mess of scattered toys and books in his path. He made it to the bed in one piece and, pulling back the star-printed quilt, laid the small skeleton on his pillow. Dream groaned at the movement, but kept still as Horror tucked the fuzzy fabric around his shoulders.

“Stay little chef . . . gonna get some water . . .” he said.

Dream nodded and watched Horror leave the room, closing the door behind him.

He sunk into his pillow and squeezed his sockets shut, hoping it would make the pounding in his skull stop. When it didn’t, Dream let out another groan and turned over on his side. He laid still for a few seconds, but continued to feel uncomfortable, so he turned over on his other side.

Only that wasn’t any better.

Dream kept squirming and twisting under the covers, trying to find the right position, but no matter what he did, the yucky feeling continued growing worse. Every bone in his body felt too hot, like something was smothering them. He started to kick whatever it was, trying to get it off him.

After struggling for a minute, Dream managed to shove the blanket Horror had wrapped him in off and felt it tumblr to the floor. He lay there panting a little as the cool air washed over his now free bones. The itchy feeling was fading, but it wasn’t enough. Sitting up, he pulled off his gloves and boots, unlatched his cape, and chucked the items to the ground.

Dream then fell back on his pillow and breathed a sigh of relief. 

He was still too hot, but at least it was more bearable without the extra layers suffocating him. He wished he could do something about his headache, but he figured he would have to wait for either Dust or Horror to help him with that. Dream flopped over on his side again, thinking if he went to sleep, it would make his brother come home faster.

But before he could doze off, a knock on his door jolted him wide awake.

“Nightmare?” called Dream, pushing himself upright.

The door opened. “Sorry squirt, it’s just me and Crossy.”

“Oh . . . hi,” he said, slumping over as Killer and Cross approached him.

“You doing okay buddy?” the latter asked him.

Dream shook his skull. “No . . . ‘m too hot and my head hurts . . .”

“Tch’, it’s just a little fever, you’ll get over it,” Killer scoffed, plopping down on the mattress beside him.

Cross folded his arms. “Funny hearing you say that. Every time you catch a cold, you act like the entire multiverse is ending.”

“Shut up, I do not!” the other shot back. 

Dream winced at the loud shout, causing both “adults” to cease their bickering.

Still, Cross couldn’t resist rolling his eyelights and adding a sarcastic, “Sure . . .”

When Killer didn’t respond, the monochrome skeleton bent over and gathered up the discarded clothing, deciding to do something useful (unlike his lounging companion.)

“Is Nighty home yet?” Dream asked, looking up at Killer.

His scowl softened. “Not yet, but we sent him a text, so I’m sure he’ll be here any minute now.” 

“I hope he hurries,” the child said sullenly, staring at his boney fingers.

All of sudden, he felt a funny tickle in his nasal cavity. He scrunched his face as the tingling sensation increased and squinted his sockets. Then, before he could stop it, he sneezed so hard his little body shook.

“Ugh,” said Killer, grimacing at the glob of magic hanging down Dream’s face.

He looked around for a tissue or something, but of course there wasn’t any of that around. So instead, he chose the only other option left and grabbed the end of Cross’s scarf while the skeleton had his back to him. Killer wiped the kid’s face and smeared the sticky magic onto it.

“Wha-  Hey!” Cross yelled, snatching his stolen scarf. “I just washed this!”

“Well it’s snot my fault there was nothing else to use.”

He stared deadpan at the black-eyed skeleton, unamused by the disgusting, albeit good pun. 

“I’m sorry, Crossy . . .” said Dream, hunching his shoulders.

“It’s fine buddy, don’t worry,” he sighed, tossing the scarf away. “Like he said, it’s snot your fault.”

The pun went over Dream’s head, but Killer got it and glared up at him. “Really Cross? That was lame.”

Cross ignored the comment and smiled smugly as he picked the kids' comforter off the floor. 

“Here,” he said, hanging it out to him.

Dream recoiled and shook his head. “I don’t want it. It’s too hot.”

“Well, it’s not good for you to be cold when you’re sick,” Cross explained, searching the room for a solution. 

He then spied a blue sheet being used as a mini tent and quickly untied the corners from around the chair legs.

“Try this,” said Cross, draping the light fabric over the hesitant child.

Dream gripped the edges of it tightly, prepared to throw it back off, but when the sheet settled over him, he didn’t feel the itchy burn like he did earlier. 

“I like this one,” he said, smiling up at him.

“Heh, I thought you would,” Cross smirked, side-glancing over at the other skeleton.

Killer huffed, “Whatever. He would have been fine without it. He’s a tough little tyke. Ain’t that right, Dream?”

He reached over and half-heartedly noogied the small skeleton, careful to not be too rough with him.

Still, it did the trick and Dream weakly giggled, “He he, y-yeah, right!”

Killer grinned to see the small, but genuine smile back on his the little squirt’s face. 

“Alright, enough you two,” said Dust, sauntering into the room with Horror close behind.

“We were just keeping him company,” Killer said innocently.

“Back up and let me give him his medicine,” he ordered, waving him off the bed. “Unless you wanna do it.”

Killer instantly jumped up and walked over to Cross, holding up his hands. “He’s all yours.”

Taking his spot on the bed, Dust uncorked the medicine bottle and poured the thick blue liquid into a large spoon.

“Say ah,” he instructed, lowering the silverware towards his mouth.

“Ahh!” sang Dream as he opened his mouth wide.

Dust slipped the spoon in and out as quickly as possible, before pressing his mouth shut with a knuckle. 

“Swallow.”

Dream puffed out his cheeks, his face souring at the bitter flavor, but after a moment he sucked it up and gulped the nasty liquid down.

“Good job,” he chuckled as he screwed the lid back on.

“Blegh!” Dream shuddered. “That tastes awful!”

“Drink this . . . it’ll help . . .” Horror said, handing him a glass.

The child grabbed it and eagerly sipped the water, his body relaxing as it dripped down his hot, dry throat.

When he drank about half, he stopped and lifted the cup back to Horror, only for the older skeleton to nudge it back.

“All of it . . .” he told him gently. “Gotta stay hydrated . . .”

Dream didn’t know what hydrated meant, but it sounded important, so he finished drinking the remaining water.

“Thank you,” he said politely as Horror took the empty glass from him.

Pulling the sheet up to his face, Dream laid back down and snuggled into his pillow. 

“Tired, bud?” asked Cross

“Mmhmm . . .” he yawned.

As much as Dream enjoyed the attention he was receiving, it was getting harder and harder to keep his sockets open.

“Come on guys,” said Killer, walking away while motioning for the others to follow. 

Cross and Horror smiled sympathetically at Dream before joining the other skeleton, but Dust lingered behind for another moment and rubbed his shoulder

“Get some rest,” he said softly, standing up to leave.

“Okay Dusty . . .” Dream mumbled, the lids of his sockets drooping.

When he was finally alone, the tiny skeleton yawned again and cupped his hand next to his face. Despite how uncomfortable and sore his bones felt, exhaustion eventually overcame the discomfort and lulled the child into a restless sleep. Within twenty minutes, Dream had tossed and turned so much that he tangled the sheet around all four of his sprawled out limbs.

Nightmare would have found the sight amusing if it wasn’t for the pained frown on his sibling’s face.

Silently, he made his way over to Dream and began unwrapping the sheet. Carefully, he maneuvered the little limbs into a more comfortable sleeping position, trying not to disturb his sick brother’s rest. But despite his efforts, the jostling still ended up waking Dream. 

“Ngh . . . Ni-ghty?” he croaked, squinting up at him.

Nightmare fluffed the sheet and tucked it under his arms. “Yes, it’s me. I’m here now.”

“You took forever,” Dream pouted, stretching out his arms.

“Sorry about that,” he said as his brother pulled his bigger hand up to his face and nuzzled it. “I came as quickly as I could.”

He made the mental note to give Ink a good reason to puke his vile vomit next time for keeping him from Dream.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, running a thumb over his flushed cheek.

It didn’t burn like it used to when his magic wasn’t being severely dampened, but it was still too similar for Nightmare’s liking. 

“Everything hurts . . . can’t sleep . . .” he whined.

“It’s okay Dream, you’ll feel better soon,” Nightmare said calmly.

Inside though his soul was aching at the state of his little brother’s pitiful condition. He felt a pang of guilt as well, knowing he was indirectly responsible for it, since it was the potion that left Dream susceptible to illness. He was thankful it was only a mild fever and not something worse.

Not to mention his brother would recover quickly, thanks to his boys taking such good care of him.

Dream gripped his hand tighter. “Please stay with me . . .” 

Nightmare smiled softly. 

“Of course, brother,” he said, sitting down next to him.

Dream’s dim eyelights shone a tad bit brighter to hear the goopy skeleton call him that.

“Thanks, Nighty.”

“Just go to sleep,” the older skeleton whispered. “You’ll feel better afterward.”

Curling a cooling tendril around Dream’s sweaty forehead, Nightmare began rubbing small circles up and down his little back. While he couldn’t force his twin to fall asleep, he remembered the old ways he used to soothe him back to dreamland. And sure enough, after a few minutes, Dream’s breathing evened out, a peaceful expression resting on his face.

Nightmare slowly stood up, leaving his brother to rest and recover.

He didn’t see the slight stirring under the sheet, or the hazy eyelight peeking up after him. 

As soon as he was gone, Dream smiled sleepily. Even after Nightmare left, the refreshing feeling that his cool and calming touches had given him stayed behind. And even better was the warm feeling in his soul. It wasn’t hot and itchy like the feeling in his bones. It was nice, like the nice feeling he got when his brother and his friends hugged him.