Kréme / Driller Oneshots

Beads and Blue (Guardian Angel)

This is a little happier than the last parts to this oneshot 🥴

❌Trigger Warnings: Depression, suicidal thoughts, no actual attempts this time❌

When Killer woke up Dream was gone. He found himself alone on his living room sofa, face pressed into one of the dusty cushions with a thin blanket dragged over his lower body. His vision swam slightly as he sat up, hands rubbing at his sockets until they ached. Dream must have moved him. The thought made him smile a little.

Shifting the blanket off he stretched, fingers reaching out as if they could scrape the ceiling before they fell back down to hit his lap. It was a deceptively cold day and Killer found himself surprised to see a cloud of his own breath waver out before him, fading before he could wave it off.

Something felt different. Craning his neck back Killer's eyes swept across the room smoothly until they rested on his dining room table where an object sat that hadn't been there before.

A bland looking pot stood at the centre of the oak table, it's copper colour sides smeared with dirt and moisture in an unattractive and earthy way. A dish sat beneath it, equally smeared and crudely decorated. But much of that was looked over, the skeleton's gaze only having room to focus on what grew from that pot. It was a flower, a gorgeous wide-petal open flower with a shocking yellow centre dusted with pollen. The inner petals were light, a soft baby blue that steadily graduated to a rich navy. It was the most beautiful flower he'd ever seen.

Stumbling to his feet Killer stepped over, pupils fixated on the smooth piece of paper placed by the pots side with swirly cursive handwriting spilling across its surface. It read only a few simple words;

Killer
Make it last two weeks
-Ps, look for the yellow beads-
-Dream-

Hands shaking he gave a laugh, looking at the flower and letting one ashy finger brush over a petal. He could make it last two weeks. Attention lingering on the Ps, he looked to the other side of the pot where a small length of elastic tie lay curled, one singular yellow bead sat by its side.

Reaching down he picked up the two items with a frown, carefully threading the yellow bead through the elastic. The note had said beads, meaning plural - had he hidden them around the house like some weird Easter egg hunt?

For now he decided to leave it be, placing the elastic aside as he looked back at the plant once more. He needed to keep it alive - and he knew he could do so for much longer than just two weeks, he'd make Dream proud.

But what did flowers need to live? For a brief moment his mind hit an absolute blank, a solid brick wall that momentarily seemed impenetrable like a dam pushing back millions of gallons of water.

Sunlight. They needed sunlight.

Picking up the pot Killer walked quickly to his bay window tucking the plant firmly under one arm to free the other. He'd have thought that opening the curtains would have been easy, but he paused, breath catching in his throat. He hadn't opened these curtains for months - he could hardly remember what the view out of them looked like. Cursing sharply he shook his head, took a deep breath and pulled.

The sunlight hadn't burned liked he'd expected. In fact, it was rather refreshing to see natural light flood into the open room, seep into every corner and cast away the depressive shadows that loomed after his every move. His eyes stung a little at the change but he found he soon got used to it, a grunt leaving him as he glanced down at the flower. He didn't want it to perch on the windowsill precariously, he wanted it to be the centre of attention.