Core the Apple

Purge the poison

A/N: I got extremely high marks on my HESI exam, which projects I should be able to pass my licensing exam first try for my nursing license. So, I'm pretty excited and also extremely anxious.

Anyhow, two 12 hour shifts for the ICU tomorrow and labour day, so I know I'm gonna be super drained and depressed. So, it's a perfect time to start this again. I would like to apologize to Nightmare for all the shit he has to deal with from me.

Trigger warning for I guess vomiting/eating disorder territory? Purging is the better word for it, but not expelling food. You'll understand what I mean.

Enjoy(?)

Nightmare felt exhausted after waking in the morning. His ribs throbbed dully, but it was nothing compared to some of the pain he shouldered from more intense battles. A simple arrow to the chest was not nearly enough to keep him down. At least, for now. He decided not to linger on that implication, however.

He briefly considered not leaving his bed at all, it was quite a nice bed after all. He rarely slept, and when he did, it wasn't for very long. The mattress was soft and accommodating and just firm enough that his tendrils could be supported. His back tended to ache from the weight of them, so having a night of proper cradling of the spine almost counteracted the pain in his ribs.

But no, he had made a promise to himself yesterday. He would be more available to his team and attempt to throw Error off of his trail. He was sure it wouldn't be hard to confuse the glitch, and hopefully, no one will become too suspicious of his sudden change in heart. He decided not to focus on that, however, as he stood and moved to change into his normal apparel. He paused before grabbing his shirt, frowning as he considered it. He was feeling extra lousy and sore today, so he opted to go for a pullover sweater instead. He normally stuck with the same getup considering it was a pain in the ass trying to find clothes that didn't restrict his extra appendages. This one, however, was specially made with his 'dimensions' in mind.

E̶r̶r̶o̶r̶ ̶h̶a̶d̶ ̶m̶a̶d̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶ ̶h̶i̶m̶.̶ ̶H̶e̶ ̶r̶e̶m̶e̶m̶b̶e̶r̶e̶d̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶f̶l̶u̶s̶t̶e̶r̶e̶d̶ ̶p̶o̶u̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶o̶t̶h̶e̶r̶ ̶g̶a̶v̶e̶ ̶w̶h̶e̶n̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶r̶e̶w̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶a̶t̶ ̶h̶i̶m̶.

The simple exertion of pulling on the article of clothing forced him to brace back against his wardrobe momentarily. One hand moved to clutch the front of the soft material as he felt a painful palpitation zap through the core of his soul. He caught his breath after it passed, sighing shakily as he recovered.

Good, that meant his body was starting to accept what was going on.

After a good moment of splinting his chest so he could cough without too much pain, he finally pulled himself off of his wardrobe and begrudgingly left his quarters. It was silent in the halls leading up to his room, as each member knew better than to create a ruckus on Nightmare's personal floor and disturb him. As he descended further down, however, the noise level steadily began to rise the closer he got to the main floor. He could make out the sound of Killer's mocking tone followed by the outraged shouts of Dust soon after it. He cringed at the sound of smashing glass, letting out a heavy sigh as the atmosphere shifted and everyone fell silent.

"Shit..."

Nightmare stood in the doorway of the main lounge, staring down at the shattered remains of what was probably another (tacky) piece of pottery. He couldn't remember why he bothered to even do any interior designing in the first place. Sure it matched the gloomy and gothic atmosphere, but it really served no other purpose than being a hazard for his rambunctious group. Error was seated on the couch, not even batting an eye as he continued to stitch together his current project. Killer and Dust were both frozen and staring at Nightmare, however, with apprehension and terror. Nightmare gave another tired sigh before simply walking past them.