Nightkiller One-Shots [Song-Based]

my heart still asks about you.

💜💧 please play the song. actually it's okay not to but like play it anyways. >:( 💧💜

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Killer looked out the window, sighing. It wasn't good weather today. If he decided to take a walk, he would most definitely get carried away in a hurricane. But, he decided to go out anyways.

Grabbing his hoodie, he quickly wore it and bust his back door open. A strong gust of wind flew towards him, throwing his hood off. The wind-chime literally did a back-flip, its glass smashing into the wall. "Well, there goes my bomb-ass chime."

He took his skateboard out of the tarp in the backyard and inspected it. For some reason, it didn't regenerate itself when it cracked in half yesterday. "Must be a slow bloomer." Grabbing some duct tape, he taped the board together. "Aw fuck yeah. Board on steroids."

"Time to fuckin' die!"

Skating through the park was hard, considering every gust of wind got stronger and stronger until he fell off his board. "Ugh- what- LSKJLASAKLJF-" Killer choked on a piece of dirt. "COUGH COUGH SOMEONE HELP-" Another gust of wind knocked him into the metal gates. He heard something crack. "Owie-" He was about to lose consciousness. "I knew I shouldn't have left the stove on... ahaha- ow-"

Then all black.

---

Nightmare nervously paced around in the waiting room, clutching his head. He was still heads over heels for Killer, but they separated when the long distance relationship became too long. Long distance as in they never had time for each other. "Agh- what if Killer actually died- I'll have to hold his funeral- but who would even come?" Killer's whole family tree was dead.

"Mr. Joku?"

Nightmare immediately perked up. "Yeah? That's me," he responded, raising his hand.

"Killer is fine enough to go home, but he needs a caretaker. What's your relationship with him?"

Oof. Nightmare awkwardly stated, "Ex-boyfriend." Hopefully the doctor didn't decide to kick him out immediately. "It's okay though, we're in good terms." Good terms as in 'let's call ourselves friends but slowly drift apart because we can't meme the same way we used to anymore.'

"Alright, I'll have to get a signature from Killer Sharpen then."

She led him into the room Killer was staying in- room A9. Nightmare had paid for all of his medical expenses, including the cost of the room. He had chosen a first class room which meant it didn't had mysterious piss stains on the floor. Why couldn't he? If it meant that the survival rate would increase, he'd pay anything for his sweetheart. Well, ex-sweetheart.

"Mmmm... candy... wait nuke no-" Killer whimpered in his sleep, unable to move from the casts. The doctor motioned for Nightmare to sit down.

"Okay, so let's start with some good news. Killer is not going to die or be stunted permanently." Nightmare let out a sigh of relief. Thank god. If he got hurt, he was going to scold the crap out of the smaller and blame himself at the same time. "The bad news is that he'll probably take a month to heal, unless you know anyone who can heal?"

"Oh, I do." Thank gods for Dream. He'll be more than willing to help.

"Great. Make sure they visit every week to check on him. The fractured legs are covered with gauze, so don't remove them. Healing magic can pass through it. There is a crack in the rib, but we've pressed it together and wrapped it with bandages. Change it everyday when Killer takes a bath. Any questions?"