Chapter Text
Nightmare reached a hand around his neck and titled his skull to the side until he felt it crack. Sagging his shoulders, he let out a loud, drawn-out yawn. Then as quietly as he could, he headed down the corridor towards his bedroom, hoping to catch what sleep he could in the few hours he had left.
In hindsight, he shouldn’t have started a 500 page novel at such a late hour, but what’s done was done.
All he could do now was make it to his bed before he passed out in the hall. Although in his defence, that only happened once. Fortunately Horror was the one who found and woke him up before any of the others were up. Still, the experience had made Nightmare wish all the more that immortal beings like him were exempt from exhuastion.
Exhuastion that Nightmare could feel growing heavier and heavier with each stiff step forward. But he also felt something else growing- something besides the ache in his bones. It was an ache in his soul. Only he realised, the lonely, longing ache wasn’t his as he sourly eyed a door with crudely-made butterflies tapped to it.
Of course . . . Dream just had to be upset now of all times . . .
It was pointless to try and ignore him in this state. Rest assure, he's tried to. But Nightmare could never sleep well when any of his boys were distressed, and to his chagrin, the same went for his annoying little brother. So he shuffled quickly towards Dream's room to deal with whatever was bothering him and then shadow speed straight to bed.
Opening the door quietly, Nightmare narrowed his eyelight at the figure standing in front of the window.
“Dream, what are you doing awake?” he asked, the sterness in his voice slightly softened from his sleepiness.
The small skeleton jumped and spun around, his watery sockets shinning in the moonlight.
“Mid- midnight?" Dream stammered, scrubbing his socket. "I-I uh . . . I'm- I'm sorry, Midnight, I . . . I can't sleep . . ."
Nightmare thought he caught a sniffle too, but he brushed it off as he walked over to him.
“Are you alright? Is something wrong?” he asked curtly.
Dream shook his head. “No, n-no, I’m . . I’m okay. . . but I . . ."
He turned back to the window, crossing his arms on the ledge and resting his chin on them.
“ . . . I miss Nighty . . . ” he sniffled again.
Nightmare didn’t flinch, didn't even blink at the old nickname. Instead, he just silently stared at Dream, feeling the ache tug at his soul again. Only this time, it felt much more personal. But he was too tired to deal with any emotional crisis his soul decided to dredge up and forced his feelings back into obscurity where they belong.
He then lifted a hand, intending to guide his bleary-eyed brother back to bed, only to freeze when Dream suddenly stared up at the sky.
“Do you you . . . do you think he’s looking at the moon right now . . . like me?” he whispered.
Nightmare hesitated for a moment, before finally resting his hand on his brother's head.
"Yeah . . ." he answered, gazing softly at the moon.
“I’m sure he is.”