Notes: Cross watches the snowball fight between Killer and Dust from the comfort and warmth of the window, before deciding "No. Horror, let's go fuck 'em up." And he can't help but feel like these are memories and moments he's lived before.
You'll never guess what just happened where I am
---------------
Staring out the window in awe.
It’s not like he’s never seen snow, but it has been a while. And even back then, it wasn’t very often.
“Perfect” to him wasn’t a shivering, cold, blanket of dirty, frozen water particles.
He sat at the window, a warm mug of hot chocolate in his grasp Horror had lovingly made him. The fireplace crackled softly as the soft sound of flipping pages kept him in reality, Nightmare sitting in his chair across the room. Error in the seat next to him, clinks of knitting needles joined the ambience, a blanket or sweater of some kind slowly starting to form. Killer and Dust on the other side of the glass, making all kinds of snow figurines, snow forts, before the inevitable snowball fight broke out between the two. The window fogged up from Cross’s breath, chuckling to himself as he watched the two in the falling snow.
He was freezing, the castle colder than usual. Wrapped in a blanket, he debated joining the two in their frozen frenzy or staying in the warmth next to the fireplace. The hot chocolate was growing colder as time passed, the snow drifting and blowing as he could hear the wind howl from where he sat.
“If we leave from the back door we could pull a sneak attack.”
Sans nodded to the white-haired human, a mischievous smirk on their faces. Their brothers out front as the King and Queen talked with the skeletal scientist in the next room over. They were the older ones, Chara not much older, but older. And they were supposed to be the responsible ones, but they both just barely reached double digits, surely they weren’t expected to stay inside as a blizzard raged on outside and their younger siblings had all the fun.
The parents wouldn’t mind anyway. Too much, at least.
Cross set the mug in the sink once he was done, opting for the back door from the kitchen, having recruited Horror in his escape from the living room.
They eyed the two in the front yard, unsuspecting victims to their sneak attack. This is what all that training was for.
“They’re…. Really…. Goi’n at it.”
“It looks like they hurt.” Cross noted as Killer threw a snowball at Dust, watching the snow explode as it made impact, scattering snow everywhere. Fluttering and flying as Dust ran through the cloud of micro crystals, chasing Killer with his own armful of snowballs.
“‘S the point… right?” Horror smiled, crouching to make his own snowballs.
Cross smiled, as he followed suit.
“And that’s how you make the perfect snowball.” Chara presented his masterpiece to the other, smiling with pride.
“Wooooow.” Sans looked at the object, mesmerized, before an idea sparked.
“Do you think we could make one of those but… big.” He looked to Chara, a look of determination in his eyes. “Like. Ginormous. The biggest one to ever exist.”
Chara blinked before a devious smile grew on his expression. Quickly setting the ball back on the ground and rolling it in the snow, he spoke, nonchalant. “Of course.”
“We make these big ones when making snowmen. Here, let me show you.” Cross watched carefully as the once little round ball quickly gained more and more snow, growing bigger as it collected the snow up from the ground.
A snowball, waist high, laid before them, the echoing sounds of Asriel, Frisk, and Papyrus playing in the front yard, as they crafted their masterpiece in the back.
“We should be able to carry it, if it’s two of us.” Chara thought out loud, nodding to himself as he looked at his creation.
Sans stood in awe as he watched Chara take the once small, handheld ball of snow, and turn it into a ginormous snowball right in front of his eyes.
“Sans,” Snapping away from the enigma, he felt Chara’s hand on his shoulder and held his gaze. “My friend, you are a genius.”
Laughing loudly, Dust dodged a snowball flying fast toward his head. “HEY! We agreed no aiming for the head!”
“Oops!!” Killer shrugged, ducking, playing innocent. “I just have suuuuuuch terrible aim!”
“Ow! Nice shot!” Dust brushed off the snow on his arm before thrusting another towards the other.
“Oof! Close one!” Killer muttered, barely avoiding a snowball to the femur. “But not close enough!!!!”
Looking up at the other, Killer flinched, Dust suddenly closer than he was before, a hand pulled back, snowball in hand. Acting fast, Killer bent backwards, landing on their hands as Dust threw the snowball forward. Killer kicked up snow, creating a cloud around them as the snowball flew over them, Dust falling to the side as he noted Killer's immediate movement.
Leaning to the side, a hand connected with the ground as he stabilized his off-balanced position, watching as Killer completed their flip, back on two feet, crouched with a hand on the ground to stop their momentum, another hand behind them to follow the energy through.
As the snow cleared, they started each other down. Dust’s hand that was already on the ground twitched as he planned his next move, itching to collect the snow around it for another projectile. Though their eye lights weren’t showing, Dust noted how Killer tilted their head ever so slightly, watching his hands carefully, predicting his next move and calculating their own.
In an instant, they lunged for each other, a snowball in either of their hands.
“Chaaarrrraaaaa!!!!” The prince whined, standing up and shaking the snow off of his fur.
“BROTHER!!” Papyrus screeched, helping Frisk up as the two eldest laughed,
They were drenched in snow as the two had planned their attack when none of the three were looking. And the mission was successful.
Unfortunately for them, the battle wasn’t over.
As their laughter came to an abrupt end, they were surrounded by three shadows, ready with a snowball in hand and vengeance in their eyes.
Nightmare looked at them, a harsh gaze as they stood, like sopping wet cats, at the front door. Tracking snow into his abode, covered in the crystalized water, slowly melting and soaking their clothes. He stared, daringly, at Killer.
“Don’t.”
It took everything within Killer to not shake off the snow as if they were a silly, little puppy having just played in a mud puddle for hours. But no matter how tempted they were to absolutely wreck the shit out of the foyer, they froze in place. Tensing every non-existent muscle they had as with a single look, Nightmare listed all the ways they’d be punished for the action, from having to clean their mess to sleeping outside in the blizzard without dinner, they resisted their chaotic urge.
“Boots off. Right now.” They all obliged, hanging their heads in shame as their fun had come to an end.
A stern look from the scientist as the King and Queen looked on with disappointment.
“I am terribly sorry, we should be seeing ourselves out anyway.” Asgore stepped up, standing next to his son.
“It is alright, Your Majesty.” Gaster sighed, putting a forgiving hand up. “Please, they can warm up in here for a while. I would like to speak to… those two… for a moment as well, if I could.”
The King nodded, Sans and Papyrus being sent to their room to change, Chara and Frisk being pulled aside by Gaster in the other room.
“Sorry, sir.” Sans could hear Chara’s voice as he passed, subconsciously slowing down.
“It’s alright.” Gaster’s voice sighed. “This timeline is not worth continuing anyway. I don’t think I like this. “Unpredictable weather.”
“Wait- NO-”
“Cross?”
“Hmm?” Cross snapped his attention to his door, knocking coming through.
“Are you done getting dressed? Horror finished that stew he was making, did you wanna come down and eat with us?”
“Oh- yeah! Hold on.” Cross quickly pulled over his black jumper, throwing on another hoodie on top and opening his door. “I’m ready.”
“You really that cold? We don't have skin, y’know” Killer asked, stepping away to let Cross into the hallway.
“Believe me, Killer. If I could choose to not be cold, I would.” Cross grumbled, folding his arms across his chest.
“Whatever you say, Cranberry.” Killer teased, giving Cross a little shove.
They ate dinner with light chatter. Ambient laughter as the snow continued to fall outside the window. The warm lights reflected against the glass, Cross noticed. He watched their reflections move, the background of the falling snow as if another character in their conversation, another guest at their dinner. He was enraptured by the snow, falling gently, before being blown harshly in a new direction by the unpredictable winds. He wasn’t sure why, or where the fascination came from. It’s not like he’s never seen snow, but it has been a while. And even back then, it wasn’t very often.
“Perfect” to him wasn’t a shivering, cold, blanket of dirty, frozen water particles.
