It was a slow day in Haventale. The sun seemed to creep across the sky at a maddeningly sluggish pace; Thick cloud cover made the atmosphere feel drearier than usual. The alternate universe's resident castle of darkness and terror barely held life.
Dust, Killer, and Horror were either at their own AUs or wreaking havoc somewhere in the Multiverse. Likely at home, though, since no influx of negativity could be sensed. Not preferable, but at least they weren't doing something foolish. The last thing needed was more messes to clean. Or a sticky situation to save the lovable idiots from. Cross, the damned traitor, probably wormed his way into Dream's arms by now. That left only one monster in the palace- Nightmare winced at the sound of paper tearing.
Well, one monster and a baby.
Error placed his son, who was also known as Error (despite strongly worded advice to name the boy something else), in Nightmare's care. An odd decision, but not one that he minded. His boys were much like children. In their own ways. Taking care of an actual child and not a full-grown skeleton running around with a knife should be child's play. Keyword: Should.
The gunk coated skeleton placed down his pen and shifted in the desk's chair, facing the direction the noise came from. A tiny skeleton dressed in a black and blue striped onesie sat on the nearby carpet. Shreds of paper laid in his multicolored clutches.
Thankfully, they were nothing of importance. Anything significant was placed far, far out of the child's reach. Enough mistakes had been made to know it was necessary. Very necessary.
Nightmare internally sighed. The baby was quickly proving to be a handful. More so than his boys. Error (the baby, not his superior) had taken to the destructive arts like a fish to water- Nothing could stop his fierce little hands. Loose threads on clothes and fabrics? Plucked. Arbitrary bits and bobs? Crushed by his, oddly and almost freakishly, strong grasp. Anything and everything within range? Chewed on, smashed, and torn to pieces. Nightmare thanked the divine forces responsible for ensuring Error did not give him the same treatment. Whether by pure luck or not, he would be eternally grateful the destructive baby handled him with such care... unlike the items unfortunate to fall into his grasp. The boy could not keep himself from destroying.
Not even Error- His superior? 404? Yes, 404 would do just fine. Calling them both the same name was getting old, and confusing, very fast- Not even 404 had this insatiable desire for mass destruction.
The sound of another page being torn ripped through the air. The sheer lack of self-control was becoming a problem, too.
Maybe if he could find where the mother hailed from, he could find a way to curb Error's destructive habits.
404 might swear to the Void and back that no mother exists, but the presence of Error says otherwise. Perhaps the boy's mother came from a violent AU? Somewhere chaotic. Somewhere where monsters strive for the brutal end of their enemies. Somewhere new and never heard of. A place where black skeletons were the norm, and had a monster capable of warming 404's stony heart.
It seemed impossible. A lover to the Multiverse's most mysterious and powerful skeleton. Yet... given the right circumstances, Nightmare could see the puppet master unintentional falling for a monster meant to be a new puppet for his army.
How to find them was another problem entirely, though.
404 refused to relay any details about his lover; Constantly denying their very existence. It frustrated Nightmare to no end. He just wished the other would show him some more faith. For thousands to billions of years, Nightmare has been his right-hand monster and, for some reason, 404 couldn't share knowledge of his lover with him. It felt insulting. Degrading. Jealo- It sewed seeds of doubt between them.
A gagging noise drew Nightmare from his thoughts. He instantly searched for the cause, only to notice a fist full of paper shreddings had made their way into Error's mouth. Panic ensued.
"No, no, no, don't put that in your mouth!" Nightmare jumped out of his chair and bolted to the boy, careful picking him up and pulling the hand/papers from his jaws. Error pouted, as much as a skeleton could, as his idea of a tasty snack was taken away. Tears welled in the corners of his eye sockets, however, he did not cry. A small blessing, Nightmare supposed.
The dark lord stared at the disappointed baby in his arms and thought one thing: Today is going to be a long day.