Me after seven months: I guess it's time to write another part to this shit show-

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It was a Saturday. The sun was out and shining brightly down on the state of Oregon, the City of Medford illuminated nicely by golden rays that split open the clouds like Cross did to a can of baked beans when he was particularly hungry. That was now.

The monochrome skeleton yawned as he shoved a can of baked beans into the microwave and set it up for two minutes. Rubbing his eye sockets groggily he mumbled slurred nonsense and snatched some bread from the counter, shoving four slices into the toaster. It was currently 6:48 AM - far too early for his taste - and he was already up and making toast. On an idealistic Saturday he'd wake up around noon, lounge in his bed for several hours and only venture downstairs after the knots in his non-existent stomach were screaming for food so loud that his ears rang.

Bleary eyes glancing out of the large window to his back garden he managed a weak smile, a rather plump looking magpie hopping about across the grass and pecking for worms. It's feathers looked impressive in the morning sunlight, their iridescent sides filtering through the rays with their oil-slick blue colours. After attacking the ground for a few seconds the magpie managed to tear a juicy worm from the floor, its head throwing back to gulp that squirming creature down its throat. Tapping its clawed feet against the floor after it fluffed up its feathers happily and seemed to shiver for a moment before glancing over at the window where Cross was stood.

Leaning against the counter softly he smiled, enjoying the view of this lovely creature seeming so free and careless. He wished he could be like that - free of worry and no longer feeling as if he was caged in his own home. It had only been a few days, but he was already bored.

Hopping a little closer the magpie chirped and tipped it's head to the side, it's dark eyes flicking over Cross as it squatted, seeing content and peaceful with his company. It was so calm. So peaceful.

But of course peace can't last forever. The sound of claws raking down wood rang out and filled Cross' 'ears', earning a flinch as he tried to call out. Yet a figure had already bolted across the yard at speeds unknown to man, a black force bowling onto the startled magpie and snatching it up successfully.

"For Christ- Nightmare nO-!" Pushing off the counter and running out to the back door Cross cursed. He hadn't locked the doors again.

Sat in the garden with a confused look Nightmare stared at him, the captured magpie held tightly in his clawed hands, flapping and squawking in terror. Tipping his head to the side Nightmare blinked, his tentacles thumping at the ground behind him softly - like a dog does with it's tail when happy.

"No?" He repeated Cross' words with a blank face before thrusting the bird into Cross' chest as he stumbled over. "Cross!"

Grunting as the bird scratched at him and screeched he took a quick step back, pointing a finger at the dark slimy alien. "No. Bad Nightmare. Drop that right now-"

The wide and proud grin on his face slowly faded and his tentacles went limp, twitching behind him instead as he looked down at the bird who was still struggling, its immense efforts might have well been the equivalent of a fly batting it's wings to the alien. "No?"

"That's what I said. Now put it down." The skeleton slowly mined placing an imaginary bird on the floor before stepping back. Nightmare's singular eye never left Cross' hands, widening in confusion as he saw them empty. Blinking slowly he looked at the bird and hesitantly stretched his arms out, pressing its belly down to the grass.

"Yes. Now LeT iT gO-"

"G-go.." He mumbled softly under his breath, a sharp frown twisting his facial features as he stared at the trembling bird in his grip. "Go.."

For a moment Cross feared the creature would unhinge his jaw and swallow the poor thing whole like he'd done with the last bird - and the one before that, aand the one before that.

But his claws slowly went lax and the bird plopped onto the grassy floor, it's expression dazed for a moment as it looked around. But as soon as it saw Nightmare again it screeched, launching into the air with a flurry of wings and bolting over the fence to disappear, much to Nightmare's disappointment.

"Gone.." He muttered, now scratching at the floor forlornly and raking up some dirt and grass.

Rolling his eyes sharply the skeleton plopped himself down on the grass beside Nightmare, carefully picking the mess off of the sulking creature's fingers. "We've talked about this, Nightmare. The birds are good, friends, harmless. They're not to be eaten."

Growling lowly to himself Nightmare huffed and watched as Cross cleaned his hands free of mud and grass, his eye flicking up to where the bird had flown off to. "No.. e-eea- eat- birbs."

"Birds." He corrected before perking up at the sound of the microwave beeping. His beans were done. "C'mon." Pushing himself onto his feet he hummed, offering a hand to the alien.

Grumbling still about the "birb" he gripped Cross' hand and pulled himself up swiftly, an action that sent Cross stumbling and then sprawling across the grass with a thump.

Perplexed as to why Cross was now on the ground and he himself was standing Nightmare rose a brow, blinking. "Cross."

"Yeah- yeah I'm coming." Spitting out grass and grit the skeleton got back to his feet with a huff, brushing himself down smoothly after a moment. "Now go inside, the beans are ready."

"..Bbeans." Nightmare paused before nodding and turning on his large feet, heading to the back door and stepping through. Being seven ft, he had to duck through all the doors in the house. But now every day Cross thanked his own architectural love for high ceilings; otherwise they'd be stained black and scraped beyond recognition - much like most his carpets.

Stepping into the kitchen Cross grabbed two plates, slapping down two slices of toast on each and buttering them thoroughly before retrieving the beans from the microwave with his thick oven gloves, yawning. Once poured over the toast he picked the two plates up and walked into the living room with Nightmare trailing closely behind.

He sat down on his favourite couch and placed his plate down on the coffee table before glancing up at Nightmare who stared at him expectantly. "Right.. remember what I told you?"

Nodding very firmly Nightmare reached out for the plate and took it with his clawed fingers. He'd learnt to be gentle when he held plates now. At least seven other plates had been shattered in his grip before. Honestly it had seemed to startle Nightmare more than it did Cross every time.

Taking a bite of his food Cross chewed, pupils never leaving the beast as he unhinged his jaw and tipped his head back sharply, the entire contents of the place being dumped down his throat and swallowed with no hesitation. Licking his lips clean with his rather long blue tongue, Nightmare then thoughtfully nibbled on the plate while staring at Cross' food.

"Uh- no. This is- this is mine." Shaking his head firmly Cross quickly chomped a large bite from his toast, chewing rapidly. "You've just eaten yours."

Grumbling alien nonsense under his breath Nightmare dropped the plate down onto the coffee table with the gentleness you'd expect from a seven ft alien with clawed fingers almost as long as Cross' forearm. Plopping himself down on the couch opposite Cross he glanced around, one long finger scratching at the back of his neck for a moment.

Deciding eating his food quickly would be the best option the monochrome quickly scoffed the lot, not about to lose it to his new pet alien. Placing his soon scraped clean plate on the coffee table on top of Nightmare's he stared over at the thick leather book sat there, it's surface a sleek black with a crinkled and broken spine, the pages well worn yet smooth. It was the book he'd stolen from the facility. The book from the raid.

It had been just over a week since the Area 51 Raid and Cross hadn't left the house since. Every time he flicked on the TV news reporters would stack their papers before speaking in the same monotone voice claiming a 'trained spy' (most likely from Russia) had breached the facility disguised as an 'alien fanatic' during the raid. The story was that they'd stolen "something incredibly dangerous that can't be named for safety reasons".

At first Cross had laughed at their poor cover up. Obviously the Federal Government didn't want the truth getting out that an average 27 year old monster who worked an office job as a Journalist has broken into their facility and stolen a living breathing Alien. But then the blurry security footage of him staggering down a corridor with blood leaking down his arm would always be displayed and he'd go rigid. Thank god they'd got his left side so his scar wasn't visible; though either way they would have hopefully assumed it was a smear of blood.

The news eventually became too much for him and he shut off the TV completely, having not switched it on for four days straight now. Not that he had time to anyway, Nightmare was, well, quite a handful.

He'd poured over every inch of the book for info on the Alien he'd stolen, trying to learn as much about him as he possibly could. As well as naming him Nightmare - from the anagram N16HTM4R3 - he'd also gendered the Alien as a "him" because constantly referring to him as an "it" seemed to well- alienate him. The scientists that wrote the book seemed to also have suspicions of the creature being male, and Nightmare hadn't seemed to care either way, trying to eat Cross' shade lamp when he'd attempted to ask.

Lots of the notes in the book specified that Nightmare was actually part of a large alien species that habituated billions and billions of miles out of our solar system on a planet with an atmosphere not too far off of Earth's. None of the writing could guess what it would really be like, but the scientists had assumed that there were thousands of other creatures like Nightmare.

The reason why he'd ended up on Earth wasn't too certain, with the writing stating that he'd showed up years and years ago when a satellite had been scanning deep space. An unidentified object had peaked their interest and the government had snatched him just past Saturn and it's rings before cramming him in that dark and confining cell to be stabbed with needles and poked and prodded with medical instruments. They hadn't a clue how he'd got there seeing as no vehicle or travel craft was identified.

Reaching out a hand tentatively Cross ran his fingers over the surface of the book with a tired him. Over the week he'd been adding his own notes to the blank pages in the back of the book for his own benefits. The notes consisted of things such as:

Dislikes:
- Stairs (heavily)
- Rain
- Blankets
- The TV
- Tomatoes
- Pasta
- Tentacles being touched

Likes:
- Cheese Toasties (Grilled cheese)
- The word "no"
- Shade lamp
- Garden
- Jaw being rubbed
- Bath water (to consume)
- Paper towels (to rip or consume)

It was a work in progress.

Sort of soft and awkward silence washed over the living room as Cross tapped at the book with one finger, his gaze cast over to Nightmare who was currently leaning over as far as he possibly could on the couch without falling so he could stare at Cross' shade lamp, his eye wide. He had an odd fascination with that thing and some observations had ended in the metal pole slightly out of shape - Nightmare ended up more dismayed than Cross about that.

Snicking softly and shaking his head in amusement Cross stretched out a hand, deciding to flick on the old radio he had sat on the window sill. The channel flicked to the default station and quiet music rang out, blessing the silence.

Within a second Nightmare had froze, perking up. Slowly turning to face Cross he tipped his head in an almost full 108 degrees - an action that still very much sent shudders down Cross' spine. The creature slowly pushed himself up from the couch and he stood, a perplexed look on his face.

"I uh-" Cross blinked rapidly for a moment before coughing. "That's music, Nightmare. It's coming from my radio."

Creeping across the floor the Alien frowned sharply, seemingly unable to figure out where the melodic voice was coming from. He suddenly spun on his heels and marched towards the lamp, peering under it as if he could find the source of the new voice. Upon finding nothing he stepped back in confusion, soon dropping to the floor in a dramatic flop to glare under the sofa, checking there too for this mystery voice source. Of course it wasn't there either and the Alien stood up once more, an accusing look crossing his face as he stared at the giggling skeleton.

"You won't find it there, silly."

Grunting lowly he shook his head and pointed a finger accusingly at Cross before marching over. "Noise. Where?"

"It's hEY-" Unable to finish his sentence Cross yelped as he found himself lifted up suddenly from the sofa and held in Nightmare's strong grip as he checked under the cushions for any sign of this voice.

Wheezing loudly he squirmed in his grip, swinging his legs back and forth. "Nightmare it's not there- it's right- right there-!" Freeing a hand he jabbed it at the radio, unable to help but laugh as the Alien paused and stared at it like a deer caught in headlights.

"Now drop me."

Unlike with most things when he was asked to drop things this time Nightmare dumped him back on the couch before Cross had a chance to take another breath. Slightly winded the skeleton panted softly in surprise as he watched Nightmare pick up the radio quickly, turning it over and over in his hands with a curious expression.

"Look- put it back and I'll show you- it's music."

"...Mmusac?"

"Close." Pushing himself back to his feet Cross laughed softly and stood, taking the radio from his hands and placing it back down on the windowsill. "Music. You dance to it - look, come here."

Reaching out a hand he gripped onto Nightmare's wrist before pulling him into the centre of the room, the alien stumbling after him. "Right, watch."

Manoeuvring one of the creatures hands to his own waist he hummed, intertwining his fingers with the other carefully with his free hand reaching his shoulder. "This is uh, the classic pose, I think. I dunno, I've seen dancing on ice like, once."

Blinking slowly Nightmare stared down at him in slight confusion, the fingers on his waist lightly digging into his hip bone though the fabric of his hoodie and making Cross shiver. His deeply intense gaze unnerved Cross a little as he found himself subjected to it but he tried to shake off the feeling with a nod. "Yes, like this-"

"-Now we just-" Stepping back lightly he pulled Nightmare with him, earning a startled grunt followed by a stumble as their chests pressed together. "Right, yes."

Gently swaying a little Cross snickered, imagine how silly he looked trying to teach an extraterrestrial how to dance. Probably the definition of an idiot.

But to his surprise Nightmare eventually started to sway with him, though he kept the same perplexed look on his face. "Like.. this..?"

Pressing his cheek into the firm surface of Nightmare's chest Cross sighed, relishing the cold feel against his bone to contest with the slightly stuffy heat of the living room. A slight smile spread across his face and he nodded, pulling them in a clumsy but successful turn.

"Yeah.. just like that.."

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Wow I know what you're thinking

Didn't Jess abandon this oneshot?

Well ksjxhdiskshsuwixjzuiskss I tried three times to write a part four but they all failed and this was the only successful one oKay I'm sOrrY-

This also got quite a few requests so uwu you get what you ask for

Maybe more of this soon?????

Perhaps????????

Anyway hope you enjoyed

NeXt EpIsOdE fEaTuReS nIgHtMaRe BaTtLiNg WiTh ThE dEmOn StAiRs-

-Jess-