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Despite Nightmare repeatedly snapping at them that this wasn't a punishment it sure felt like it.
He was obviously pissed about the shoddy job they did on their last mission. Dust had gotten badly hurt - enough that they were frighteningly close to losing him. Yet despite everything their little mate pulled through.
It had been a long and rough journey toward health, one that had them all on edge even when Dust was conscious and talking. Nightmare had gone into emergency mode; he'd become cool and calculated. Calm. He had been sweet with Dust while he needed it and firm with the others so none of them got drowned in misplaced guilt. But through it all, it was easy to see the rage simmering beneath the surface.
When Dust was finally let out of the infirmary he stayed in his room - which made sense. He still hurt, moving around wouldn't do him much but prolong healing. What didn't make sense was when Nightmare commanded that they ALL stayed in their rooms.
This had the most effect on Cross, who liked sticking to a strict schedule. He wasn't reclusive like the others - he needed to be able to go where he wanted and see everyone else. Nightmare kept him near-constant company so it wasn't like he was psychologically torturing him, but even the confort his presence brought wore off after a while and Cross became paranoid something was wrong with the others.
After a nasty meltdown Nightmare begrudgingly expanded the space they were to be confined to. They only ever used a small portion of the expansive castle in the first place but it was maddening, the way he actually put up wards to prevent them from leaving. Although he had said if they needed to go somewhere they just needed to ask him - each time they asked him he only grew snappier, always denying their requests for various, baseless reasons. Eventually, they had just stopped asking.
It had been about three months of this - being glorified prisoners. It was something Nightmare had never intended for them, even at the beginning when he kept that strict boundary between them. It wasn't that they would ever forget that Nightmare was their King, their God...but along their path to becoming mates they usually got equal say in things. And never before had they had to try and barter for their freedom.
It was baffling, and Killer knew this couldn't go on for much longer.
Three, nearly four months spent indoors, no missions, no training, no fun. Whenever the boys would try and entertain themselves the way they usually did, by being stupid and destructive, Nightmare would seethe and send them back to their rooms.
The castle just felt bleak, and despite their numerous attempts at trying to reason with Nightmare that sometimes a mission just went wrong, they didn't mean to fuck up so badly, he wouldn't hear of it.
Killer knew that Cross and Horror, despite how indignant and upset they might feel, would most likely just roll over and continue to take it. Dust, who was arguably even crazier than Killer, was still sort of out of commission, what with the last rounds of healing and all. It made him sleepy and Killer nearly envied him. Even though they were all lazy (bar Cross, who was offended at the very idea) they couldn't actually just stand to sleep all the time; they usually still went places, even if it were to nap in said different places. Dust hardly seemed to notice they were prisoners in their own home.
So it was up to him then.
Killer knew that no matter how angry Nightmare may be with them, (it really had been an important mission - they had lost an AU Nightmare had spent a year prepping), he didn't want to make them feel like prisoners. And there was no way he didn't know. For whatever reason, he just wasn't trying to make it better.
That was what bothered Killer the most. No matter how angry Nightmare got in the moment he cooled off pretty quickly and always tried to make it better.
So perhaps he just needed to see how it was affecting them. It had to be something that he couldn't just ignore and lock him in his room for.
He could feel the moment Nightmare checked in on him. The temperature dropped drastically and his desk lamp - the only light he ever had in his room - flickered out under the waves of rage flooding the room. The only light was Killer's SOUL held tightly underneath the tip of his knife. The metal rested against the construct and Killer could feel the threat of it.
He didn't actually want to do anything, something else Nightmare likely knew, but it would be so easy to slip. Just one flinch and he'd be gone. The insinuation that he would alone was enough to upset the other.
As the shadows in the room liquefied and puddled on the tile floor, rising up around him until it was waist height from Killer's spot on the marble, he held steady, glaring straight ahead into the nest of shadows.
What are you doing?!
His mate's voice boomed and echoed disconcertingly in his head but it only made Killer's teeth twitch up into a bitter grin. "Oh, y'know. Entertaining myself."
How dare you, how dare you!! Shadows hissed and snapped at him, stinging his bones as they writhed around him, a frightening mass of pure darkness. You insolent, IMPUDENT little-
"Well I'm sorry," Killer snarled right back at him, fangs bared threateningly at an invisible enemy. "What else am I supposed to do? You've gone fucking crazy and locked us away! I don't fucking care how mad you are, you don't get to treat us like shit!-"
Killer was cut off when a strand of darkness finally broke free from its buzzing mass. While he had been expecting that, Killer's eyes widened as he felt the pure hatred it was coated in. He didn't get to say anything else as it tightened around his neck, cutting off the flow of magic to his skull.
It had startled him enough that he dropped his knife, feeling his SOUL get swallowed by the shadows a second later. His claws scrabbled at the solidified negativity but he knew it was futile. Was he going to die right here? At the hands of his mate?
When he was wrestled to the ground by the shadow, spitting and thrashing the entire time, Killer was completely submerged in shadows and instantly he lost all fight he had. There was just too much- it was too much for him and he couldn't take it - his SOUL was going to burst it was too much!-
Every bit of darkness coalesced right on top of Killer to create Nightmare's form. It was funny that despite how he was being choked he felt he could breathe again. His hysterical laugh was halted by Nightmare's hands around his throat. Above him, through the black spots dancing around in his vision, he could see Nightmare's blazing eyelight looking down at him. His King was sitting right on top of him, his hands shaking with fury.
You are MINE! His voice was still echoing inside of Killer's skull, rather than his words actually being spoken aloud. You die when I want you dead - I DO NOT give you permission otherwise. Nightmare's fingers curled impossibly tighter as he shook him once, wrangling a wheeze out of Killer.
You...you have always been defiant, so strong-willed. I tire of it. It is time you know your place beneath me. His tentacles, too many to count, all thrashed behind him in a hypnotic dance.
I could kill you right now... since you want to be away from me so badly. Perhaps I will finally show the pitiful creature you are some mercy.
"Th-n-d...-t!" Killer managed to get out, his vision blackening until he couldn't see anymore, or perhaps Nightmare was just making it that dark. It took a bit more for a skeleton to die from strangulation, but he knew Nightmare could just tighten his grip and decapitate him at will.
With pleasure. I will kill you and feel NOTHING.
From somewhere off to the side Killer felt his SOUL pulse with alarm, and if he weren't already being strangled it'd probably be up in his throat. Yet despite Nightmare's growling, his hands did nothing more than flex testingly on his neck. The room itself seemed to hold its breath as the seconds ticked by without Killer getting his neck snapped.
Killer couldn't say anything but his 'Well???' was nearly audible with how fiercely he thought it. The hands didn't move from around his neck, instead flexing again. They felt cold and clammy and Killer wasn't sure if that was just from the corruption.
"You mean nothing to me," Nightmare sneered through clenched teeth, speaking out loud this time. "You are nothing - I'm going to kill you and finally be free."
Still, nothing happened.
"I-I'm going to-" His hands started shaking from where he was gripping Killer and his hold weakened without him meaning to. "You- I'm going to-"
As the magic rushed back to Killer's head he was worried he'd pass out, but after a wave of dizziness and nausea, his vision finally cleared a bit, revealing Nightmare's big, wobbly eyelight staring down at him.
Ah, so there it was.
"You mean-n.....nothing to me," Nightmare finally sobbed, a tear managing to fall on Killer's face before Nightmare was curling inward, his skull resting against Killer's collarbone as he shook.
Killer could only lay, stunned for a moment as his mind processed what was happening before he finally, slowly, lifted his arms to wrap over his mate's hunched form. One of his hands rested on his back while the other stroked his skull soothingly. The gesture only made Nightmare's crying grow more earnest as he started to shake his head, sobbing out parts of words and phrases that made no sense.
"It's okay," Killer finally rasped. Nightmare's next sob sounded like a gasp as he looked up to him worryingly, his fingertips still resting against his vertebrae, stroking over them as if looking for injury.
"I'm-m s-s sorry!" he cried, reverently running his fingers over his neck and jaw. He looked absolutely grief-stricken and finally Killer could understand what was happening.
As Killer worked to sit up with Nightmare on his lap his mate seemed smaller as he repeated apologies. "It's not safe!" he finally cried, skull resting against his collarbone again. "It's not safe! I could've lost Dust! I could lose all of you! Just like that!" his breaths were quickening as he spoke in between gasps, his body jerking each time. "You can just be gone!"
"I know, I know. It'll be okay, it's okay, I promise," Killer rocked side to side, holding Nightmare as he let out what must've been painfully pressurized within.
They've each had their fair share of violent, raging breakdowns and Nightmare had been there for them each and every time - it only made sense that Killer hold him through his own.
"It's not," Nightmare wailed, devolving back into wordless crying.
Honestly, Killer had no idea how to help. He was usually the one being comforted. Sure, he knew how to help with basic emotional meltdowns but this? This was on a whole 'nother level. There was probably no solution to this, nothing he could possibly say to take this fear away from Nightmare. But regardless he assured him and mumbled soft encouragements until the other seemed to tire himself out.
As his cries eventually faded until sniffles and small gasps Nightmare went limp against him, his face pointed toward Killer's neck. His shirt felt soaked where his mate had been crying and he could feel warm breath against him. It made him shudder a bit - not because it was a bad feeling but just as a natural reaction.
It made Nightmare pull away ever-so-slightly despite Killer urging him back down. His eyelight was back to normal as he searched Killer's face then finally down to his neck, his frown deep and guilty. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, thumbs running along his clavicle.
"I forgive you," was his response. Killer's voice already sounded a lot better now that the magic had been flowing normally for a bit but the furrow in his brow showed how the faint reediness still made Nightmare feel guilty.
"I'm....scared," he finally admitted, looking at his shirt instead of meeting his gaze. "We were...so close to losing Dust. I don't know what I'd do if I lost one of you."
"Makes sense," Killer shrugged a little, bonking their foreheads together to nuzzle him a little. "We were all really scared."
"No- Killer, I- I can't die. Wh-what am I- I can't be without you guys." Nightmare sounded close to crying again, and his face felt wet when he pressed their cheeks together. It was okay that he was probably smearing his eye goop all over him - Nightmare was covered in it himself already.
"We'll figure somethin' out, okay? I dunno what the solution is but we'll figure something out."
They sat together against the frame of Killer's bed for a long time, hugging each other close while Killer's SOUL rested close above them. Later they would get up and go see the others. Nightmare would apologize and explain the hurt and pure terror he had been bottling up, and Nightmare would do better next time.
Because Killer was right - they would figure something out. His boys were his, and he would care for them for all of eternity.