Core the Apple

The Midnight Council

A/N: Welp. I finished nursing school. Now I'm coming to the slow realization that I am another worker that has been cranked out into the world, expected to work endlessly for 40 years until my body gives out and then become impoverished as many elderly citizens do.

Oh, and within the 15 minutes I began writing this my entire family fell apart? Weird but aight I guess.

Anyway, here's a chapter as I spiral through this crisis.

Enjoy(?)

Dust had wanted to put his head through the wall the entire night.

He wasn't sure what happened, but Killer had not left him alone the entire night. He was initially alarmed and extremely confused when the other had barged into his room. Dust was used to it, of course, but he wasn't used to the dim white eyelights he could see in the other's sockets between the flow of hate. The weeping skeleton had then started babbling something about breakfast and several other things Dust couldn't understand. He did make out a 'sorry' somewhere in there, which was shocking as Killer apologized for nothing. He always had a petulant nature and didn't care who he offended or rubbed the wrong way. Dust had given an indignant shout when Killer flopped onto the bed with him, but Killer had refused to move the entire time. It was around two in the morning, when Dust was just irritated and exhausted enough to consider Papyrus's encouragement to kill the skeleton while he was vulnerable, that the other skeleton spoke up.

"Dust?"

"What," He spoke through gritted teeth as Killer looked up at him from where he lay against him. "You ruined my shirt, asshole." He added on with a sneer. Killer didn't comment on this as he continued to watch Dust's hostile expression. "I'm sorry I fuck a lot of things up." Killer replied after a moment of silence. Dust's face contorted into one of confusion as he tried to prop himself up a bit with his hands. "Killer... what the hell are you on about?" He huffed out a relieved breath as Killer finally sat up, allowing Dust to do the same and grimace down at his stained t-shirt.

"I know I toe the line a lot with all of you and test your boundaries." Killer began as he stared down at his lap. "I've fucked up a lot of missions being careless and cocky, just generally not taking anything seriously. It's hard to take anything seriously when nothing really sparks anything in you. You just go through the motions, do what you're told, follow the routine, and repeat it every day. I've been numb for a long time and I find going against orders and being... well, a dick, keeps me from going insane."

"Debatable." Dust drawled back as his eyes slid down to his soul. "Oh," He hummed as he observed its nearly normal shape. "That's why you're being all gross and emotional. Why'd you let it get that bad? Go to Nightmare so I can sleep." He frowned as he saw Killer look away a moment. "I did... but he did something-"

"Really fucking strange, yeah, I think that's the theme lately." Dust agreed as he gestured for him to continue; no use pretending he was getting any sleep. "He just... said no. He told me to sit with him and that we could be emotionally tormented together. He just... sat there and read while one of his tendrils just kinda, I dunno, wrapped around me?" He tried to explain the odd situation, setting aside the embarrassment of crying into the king of negativity like a child seeking comfort.