***

I was literally writing the next chapter of my Cold Front fic when I woke up on the 24th with such a good angst idea for the twins that I broke down first thing in the morning.

(Note: I am not blaming any of the twins for what happened to them, which is not the case for the twins themselves. Do keep in mind that at the time of this story, the twins were both 5 and it is normal for children like them to act immaturely and blame the wrong people, especially seeing the environment they are living in.)

With that said, enjoy your reading!

***

Warnings: Suicide (stabbing), blood, heavy angst for both twins

Synopsis: Nightmare had never understood why the characters in his novels always felt sick at the sight of blood. He was covered in his own blood every day, yet it never made him throw up. Now he understood, he understood too well.

***

If there was someone who Nightmare particularly resented, apart from himself, it was Dream.

He hated the way people loved him so much, what did he even do to deserve all the attention anyway? What did he have that Nightmare lacked?

He hated the way protecting the Tree has fallen on his shoulders alone while Dream was playing around. Why was he allowed to slack off while Nightmare had to do both their jobs alone, as injured as one could be?

He hated how naive the other was, always falling for Nightmare's stupid lies when he was asked about his injuries. How could he have gotten this hurt by simply falling off a branch? Was Dream just stupid or did he simply not care about Nightmare? The latter would bet the correct supposition was the second explanation.

He hated how mocking the other's hollow 'I love you' sounded. He hated how he had to live in the other's shadow. He was as good as his brother, hell, maybe he was even better! He just could not understand. Why not him?

But above all, he hated the way he nagged him by spending time with him and showing off how much happier he was than Nightmare, like he was doing currently.

"Get off." He hissed, pushing Dream away from himself. That day, his brother had been particularly clingy and happy, for some reason determined to annoy him as long as humanly possible.

Seriously, he had even declined to spend time with his friends to annoy him more, how unhinged did he have to be to think of something like that?

The other let out a playful whine of protest but refrained from attempting to hug him again. A detail that Nightmare failed to notice at the time.

"Can we play then? It has been so long since we last played Tag You're It!" Dream suggested, a wide grin spread across his cheeks as he seemed to reminisce about the old times. It made Nightmare sick.

With gritted teeth, he replied that he was not in the mood to play and would rather read. Dream's bright smile did not leave his lips at the other's refusal. If anything, it just got brighter.

Oh, there we go, something he hated and forgot to mention.

The way the other never took anything badly.

Nightmare would kill to be that way.

H̶o̶w̶ ̶f̶o̶o̶l̶i̶s̶h̶.̶

"Can you read me a story then? Last time we--"

"No." He cut him off with a glare, making the other blink. At Nightmare's expression, his smile turned into a worried frown.

"Did I say something wrong? Why do you look so angry?" He tilted his head to the side in confusion, somehow only managing to piss the other off even more.

"Because you're annoying me." He replied coldly, picking up the last book he had been reading off the ground. With his eyes fixed on the object, he could no longer see Dream's expression. Not like it interested him. "Can't you find someone else to bother?"

"I like spending time with you though." A pause. "And you know I love--"

"And I hate you." He flipped the page he was reading, noticing the way the other had stopped talking.

He looked back to him, Dream's grin welcoming him back to reality.

He hated that lack of reaction too, he just said that he hated him, and he was smiling? He was right after all, Dream really did not care about how he saw him. Why would he? He had all those oh so wonderful friends, why would he care about that loser he called his brother?

I̶f̶ ̶N̶i̶g̶h̶t̶m̶a̶r̶e̶ ̶h̶a̶d̶ ̶p̶a̶i̶d̶ ̶m̶o̶r̶e̶ ̶a̶t̶t̶e̶n̶t̶i̶o̶n̶,̶ ̶m̶a̶y̶b̶e̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ ̶h̶a̶v̶e̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶i̶c̶e̶d̶ ̶h̶o̶w̶ ̶s̶a̶d̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶s̶m̶i̶l̶e̶ ̶r̶e̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ ̶l̶o̶o̶k̶e̶d̶.̶ ̶H̶e̶ ̶w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ ̶h̶a̶v̶e̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶i̶c̶e̶d̶ ̶h̶o̶w̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶d̶i̶d̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶ ̶r̶e̶a̶c̶h̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶e̶y̶e̶s̶.̶

"What are you still doing here?" He snapped, sending him yet another glare. "Are you going to gawk at me like that for long? I don't want to see you anymore, just go."

"... Okay." He got up, making Nightmare focus back onto his book. He was most likely going to the village anyway, there was no reason for him to see where he was going.

***

A few hours later, Nightmare started to feel bad about what he said.

He had been angry at that moment, but Dream was still his brother, he could not just tell him that he hated him like that. Nightmare looked up at the sky, deducing that it was the afternoon.

Honestly, he found it odd how the villagers had yet to come bother him but for once, he allowed himself to hope that the peace would last a bit more.

He closed the book, putting it into its usual place next to him--

...

Something was under it.

Nightmare raised an eyebrow as he picked it back up, his eyes widening once he recognized Dream's circlet. Did he forget it when he left? Nightmare shrugged; he will just give it back to him after he apologized.

He would not come back until the evening anyway, which gave him plenty of time to plan what he would say to him.

He let his head rest on the tree, slowly drifting off to sleep.

***

When he woke up, the sight of wrinkling stars in the night sky welcomed him back. He had always loved looking at the stars, it reminded him of the good days without the villagers around.

He turned to his side, expecting to see his younger brother.

He froze when there was no sign of him.

"Dream?" He called out in surprise, standing up and looking around the tree and up the branches. No one.

Nightmare frowned.

That was unusual, no matter how long Dream stayed at the village, he had always come back once the sun had set. He once said that his favorite thing was to come back home after the night began.

Maybe he was still a bit busy? Nightmare sat down against the tree, waiting to see his brother's silhouette approach the tree.

***

All the lights in the village had gone out by now.

Yet, Dream was still nowhere to be seen.

Nightmare did not want to admit it, but he was worried, very worried. He got up from the tree again and reluctantly dragged his feet to the village. He had no want to step into that place, knowing that if he were caught, he would go through hell and back, but there was only so much he could do.

He let out a long breath as he passed the gate. No scream, that was a good sign.

A man in the tavern's balcony was sprawled on a table, an alcohol bottle in hand. Seeing no one else around, Nightmare decided to risk talking to him.

He tapped his shoulder and the grown-up groaned as he was shaken awake, looking over to who woke him up. He glared at Nightmare once he recognized him, slurring something about killing him if he did not get out of his sight. Nightmare ignored the threat, instead asking where he had last seen Dream.

Thankfully for the child, the older man was far too wasted to bother swinging at him. So wasted, in fact he was pleasant enough to answer his question.

"How the fuck should I know?" He hiccupped, taking another sip of the beverage. "That brat did not show up today." He hit the table with his fist, frustrated. "If it was not for him staying with your sorry ass, my other house would have been finished by now."

Nightmare could feel his heart drop in his stomach, the rest of the man's complaints getting lost in the wind.

Dream never went to the village?

Ditching the man, the young boy raced to the entrance of the village, his head filled with Dream's possible whereabouts. He was neither at the tree nor at the village. Besides these two locations, there was the forest and the cliff. But if he was in those areas, why did he go there in the first place?

And more importantly, why was he still not back?

His breathing sped up.

What if he was in danger?

He shook his head, pinching his wrist. He winced but, in the end, he was able to forcefully calm down. Panicking would not help him find Dream.

These two areas were big, so he had better get started now.

The closest area to the village was the forest, he would get started there.

He ran between two trees, looking around every tree and yelling Dream's name as he did so, hoping the other would eventually answer his calls or show up.

When he was met with no answer, he walked deeper into the forest, desperation now laced with his voice. The forest was quiet, far too quiet to be normal.

Still nothing.

He was running now, yelling his name even louder than he already was. He could feel his vocal cords straining in his throat, but he could not care less then, too focused on the task.

Eventually, as he was starting to lose hope, he finally caught a glimpse of orange behind a tree. The boy heaved out a sigh of relief before being overtaken by anger. If he was right there, why did he not answer his calls?

"Dream!" He shouted as he walked over to the tree, said one's cape getting closer. "Why did you not come back? Do you know how worried I--"

As he finally walked around the tree, Dream's lightless eyes and the knife planted in his chest finally came into view.

The next thing Nightmare knew was that he saw himself throw up nearby, trembling as he turned back toward Dream. There was so much blood.

Nightmare had never understood why the characters in his novels always felt sick at the sight of blood. He was covered in his own blood every day, yet it never made him throw up. Now he understood, he understood too well.

"Dream...?" He approached the other, slowly. That... he was still asleep, right? It could not be real. He crouched down next to him, his fingertips brushing his shoulder. He was cold. Why was he so cold?

"Hey, why are you not saying anything?" He shook him. "That's not funny anymore, come on Dream, let's go home."

The other's head fell awkwardly on his shoulder, a few strands of his hair covering his eyes. Apart from that, no reaction was given to Nightmare's words or actions.

He shook him again, tears welling up in his eyes. "Stop scaring me! You said you would come back home no matter what! We even promised to never leave each other!"

"We promised!" He repeated, as if to enhance the importance of a promise.

However, he could scream as much as he wanted, there was no bringing back a dead soul.

At last, he finally broke into hysterical sobs as he held onto the corpse of his brother like his life depended on it. "We can play as much as you want, I can read you as many stories as you like! We can hug whenever you want! I won't push you away anymore, I promise!"

"So please..." His voice broke as he cupped the other's cold cheek, trying so hard to feel any kind of warmth coming from the other's skin. "Say something, anything. Don't leave me alone..."

Silence.

"I..." He hiccupped. "I'm sorry for what I said earlier, I didn't mean it, I swear! I love you too. Even if I may have been frustrated at you sometimes, you're still my brother, I could never hate you!"

He buried his face in his neck as he sobbed. "Please don't make me bury my best friend, I'm sorry for being such a bad brother. I promise to make it up to you just give me a chance, please."

His pleads were ignored and so were his apologies.

Oh, how cruel the gods were.

In a last attempt to get some sort of reaction out of the other, he brought his hand to his level. From it, a piece of paper fell.

With a shaky hand, he managed to retrieve what Dream was holding in his fist. He opened the ball, revealing an exact replica of a silly drawing of themselves when they were still satisfied with one another in the world.

A messy Tree of Feelings labelled "Home" stood in the background with yellow and black ovals littering the leaves to represent their respective apples. In front of it, two figures with questionable anatomies stood beside each other, holding hands.

One of them was wearing a light blue-sky outfit and a round circlet and the other a purple outfit with a crescent moon engraved on the head garment.

There was only one difference: if the original drawing had both figures smiling from ear to ear, this one had Dream smiling and Nightmare wearing an angry frown.

At that instant, with tears falling down the paper, Nightmare wanted nothing more than to tear away that angry-looking figure from the smiling one and burn its remains.