Kréme / Driller Oneshots

Garden (Guardian Angel)

Not me updating at 12:30 am after being so hyped to publish this chapter and then forgetting. Anyway, I really like this and hope you do too. Killer slowly fixing himself 😔

Left you in your sleep once you were stable, it's the first time in a while I've seen you look so calm and sweet.
I have a suggestion for you, how about you try reconnect with your old friends, meet up with them - or at least call them. You're a social person Killer, don't limit yourself to only the house.
Also, keep the plant going for a month Xx
-Dream-

The note left a pit at the bottom of his stomach, forefinger and thumb rubbing at the corner of the paper until it crumpled. Socialise. The word left a nasty feeling in his mouth, acidic and burning. When Dream and him were together they really hadn't socialised much - and they didn't have to - they had each other; that was all they needed. A few times Horror and Dust had tried to contact him, Cross too. But he hadn't the stomach to speak to any of them. He wanted to make Dream pleased, he really did, but he didn't know if he could manage.

But his mind didn't linger on that for too long, eyes fixated on one sentence. Keep the plant going for a month. A month. A whole month. That meant he was supposed to keep himself from death for an entire month, and that meant he wouldn't see Dream again until the end of it. It made him feel sick. Though the fact that last night was the longest Killer got to spend with the angel softened the blow a bit; it hadn't been a quick scold and hug before departure. They'd cuddled, kissed, slept, as if all of the near past had been forgotten. He wished every day could be like last night.

Thinking of the time they'd spent together his gaze cast down to his wrist where the yellow beaded bracelet hung, its brightness dulled slightly to a brown by his stupidity.

I left three in the back garden for you, thinking you might start cleaning it up.

Dream's words rang in his skull and he stepped to the bedroom window, peeling back the curtains just slightly to look out at the garden below. It did truly look appalling and he felt a twinge of guilt for letting it spiral so out of hand. But the longer he stared at it the worse his mind berated him. What, he couldn't even do some weeding because he'd been too busy crying to himself for the fourth time that day? It seemed pathetic now.

But the garden was large, a nice and open plot that ran down the back of the house. It was big enough to put a trampoline in if you wanted - which neither of them did. It slowly dawned on him just how much effort and time it would take to clean out the garden - a monumental effort he couldn't manage by himself.

I have a suggestion for you, how about you try reconnect with your old friends, meet up with them - or at least call them. You're a social person Killer, don't limit yourself to only the house.

The words in Dream's letter sprung to mind and he gnawed at his knuckle, teeth scraping over the bone aggressively until red lines ran across it. When he'd said not to limit himself only to the house, he was sure the angel had meant for him to go out to a cafe, a park, some woodland or a restaurant to be amongst other people. But for now maybe he could evade his suggestion without actually refusing - the back garden didn't count as the house, did it?

His gaze drifted to his phone and he sighed, soul thumping in his chest at a pace so harsh he felt his rib cage might bruise. He hadn't looked over his contacts in months, ignoring messages and letting calls ring out until it switched them to voicemail. But even that was painful to listen to - he could remember when he'd made that automated message exactly. He'd been in the bedroom, on his fifth attempt while Dream continuously tickled his feet, making him hiss, gasp, jump in surprise. In the end he'd had to threaten the other with his knives as he'd recorded the message, but his amused tone could still he heard throughout. He desperately wanted to change it, but the idea of his friends calling up to listen to his depressed and broken voice mutter that he wasn't there didn't sound like it would benefit him or them in any way. So he kept it.