Kréme / Driller Oneshots

Bittersweet Goodbyes (Guardian Angel)

That's right, it's the final chapter to this series. I hope you all enjoy
 
 

It was summer at last. The cold fingertips of winter had relinquished their grip on the continent and allowed spring to bleed through into summer. The trees were green and plush with leaves, saplings stretching up into the sky as if they could grow forever. It was the season of rebirth, of new growth. A time to move on from the past.

Sat beneath the sycamore tree, Killer smiled. He hadn't been here in years, too consumed by grief to consider visiting the oasis. Being here now, he wished he'd decided to come sooner.

Today marked nine months. Nine months since he'd last held a blade to his wrists, since he'd last thrown himself into oncoming traffic, since he'd downed a box of pills and lay waiting in bed. It had been a slow, unforgiving recovery in which he had many good days, and bad days. Some times it felt easy, like he could feel himself building up to a new future, a better life. Other days he found himself crushed by the immense weight of it all, feeling overwhelmed and drowning in a vast sea where no boats were in sight, no life rings were thrown. He was on his own.

Outer had ended up being a rock for him. A grounding point. Some days he hated him, yelled and hit him, cried and berated him. Other days he would cling to him like life support, press into his arms and apologise over and over for being so difficult.

He still wasn't sure if he loved the man, let alone whether he'd spend the rest of his life with him. Somewhere in the back of his conscious he knew he probably wouldn't. Maybe it was cruel to lead him on like this, but in his mind he wasn't leading him on. Outer knew the wound of Dream was fresh, and he didn't expect a family from the other. Perhaps he really had nothing more than the others best interests in mind. Right person, wrong time.

Outer wasn't there right now, out for the day with his friends. He had offered for Killer to join, but the other already knew he'd have to decline the offer before it was asked. Today was the two year anniversary. The day that marked two long, aching years without Dream. His not-so-happy death day. Last year he'd spent it in a depressed haze, fingertips never too far from a knife. Today, he held a flower.

It was a bright, canary yellow. His favourite colour. With his particular colourblindness, he'd never managed to see the burning reds, succulent greens and flaky whites. His world was forever an unexciting smear of brown. But yellow shone through against everything. Yellow and blue. That's why he'd liked this park - every year the daffodils, buttercups, dandelions and tulips would sprout at the same time and turn the green floor a glorious yellow. They would stretch out like a sea towards the central lake, glistening in brilliant blue.

Twisting the stem of the flower in his fingers he closed his eyes, recalling. He had come here with Dream years ago. Before he'd died, before they'd became engaged. It had been near the start of their relationship, when the Star Sanses had only just found out, when it was still a deadly secret from Nightmare. They should have been more careful.

They had simply sat there in the grass, their arms wrapped around each other as they stared at the sky. Sometimes they'd point out silly shapes in the clouds, other times  they would spend hours simply talking, rambling about everything and anything they could think to tell about themselves so they could get to know each other better. Occasionally he'd listen to Dream do his very best to describe colours, hand gestures wild as he failed miserably to describe the colour pink.

It's like red, but soft and wimpy.

He could remember laughing, a crescendo of cackles as he tried poorly to imagine it in his mind. Whatever the colour was like, it didn't sound very appealing. And then there had been purple.