To all of you who thought that the notification would be for the Against the Odds sequel then I'm sorry 😳

Basically I've been writing loads of Kreme/driller recently and wattpad doesn't have enough of it so I thought I could plague you all with more 😎

Enjoy

❌Trigger warnings of: Suicide, self harm, Depression❌

The traffic was a blur of red and white lights, growling like a rumbling bear as they zoomed past at tops of 70 mph. The motorway had hit rush hour, people commuting back home from work all in a rush to get home, in a buzz to return to their boring and regimented lives. They seemed too eager to continue living, a prospect that Killer himself had never truly grasped - not for the past few years anyway.

There had been a time when he'd loved to live, woke up every morning curled up in bed with a real prospect to look forwards to, someone to roll over and stare at in the glowing light of dawn, someone that had made him feel like he was worth something. Dream had done that. He'd made waking up worth it, made getting ready for the day an easy task instead of a drag - he'd been the first person he'd ever met to truly make him enjoy life, the first person to steal his heart.

He'd thought they'd stay together forever and ever, really. It was a little fantasy that burned in his mind permanently, brushing across his mind every morning he looked over at him in the bed. But he must have done something wrong in the planning - something wrong with his wishing and hoping. Because they hadn't got his happily ever after.

Dream had died not short of a year ago. A tangled miscommunication from his enemy had resulted in bloodshed, and Dream hadn't been the one to emerge victorious. Killer had screamed his throat raw that day. He'd cried every tear his body could squeeze out and torn apart everything in the house that would fracture in his hands. Dream was supposed to stay with him forever - until his dying day. They'd- they'd planned on getting married.

Twisting the ring on his finger Killer's breath hitched as he stared out across the raging motorway, his dull pupils flickering sporadically across the speeding vehicles that payed no attention to him. And why would they? They were so fixated on living, so desperate to live to the next day that they would pay no attention to the small figure stood on the side of the busy road, eyes wide in excitement as they swayed on his feet. Once, a few months ago someone had called the police on him before he could do what he wanted.

He didn't want that to happen again, he wouldn't take his time today. Inhaling sharply Killer's mouth twitched in a grin and breathed in the cold winter air. The sky above him was rough and grey, rolling clouds clashing against each other angrily, as if heaven knew what was coming next. It looked like it might rain.

"Sorry Dream." Killer's breath was snatched away by the wind, whisked away far from him and lost to his ears. It didn't matter.

Clenching his fists sharply he stared at the traffic, waiting for a moment longer until he identified the large black pickup truck that hurtled towards him, speakers blaring a bass song which's vibrations stretched down to his feet and rippled up to his fingertips.

Grinning, he stepped forwards.

He didn't feel the truck hit him, the crunch of his bones a mere pinprick against his side. Horns blared and voices screamed, his body being flung roughly into the side ditch he'd been stood in a mere ten seconds ago. Blood bubbled to his throat and he laughed, pupils shakily staring up up at the sky where the dark clouds seemed to crack apart to show a fragment of light slicing down to bask over him.

"This is the third time this week, Killer." The voice was deep and smooth, washing over him like a calming wave that cooled the burns on his body perfectly. His grin was broken, eyes shakily resting on the glowing figure that stood disapprovingly over him.

"Dream.." His voice cracked, fingers twitching as he tried to reach up. Cursing when he found he couldn't, Killer groaned. The truck had hit him harder than he'd predicted. He tried again, a gargling hiss of pain escaping him as he did his best to reach up for him.

"Don't move, Killer." He crouched down slowly, a hand lightly pressing against the smaller's cheek in a careful and calculated movement. He hated that Killer did this - throw himself into the road or off of a bridge of into a train just to see him again, it made him sick. It had started off as a lowly suicide attempt over a bridge, yet when the skeleton had seen his 'guardian angel' come down to fix the situation, he'd taken it as an opportunity to see his lover again. The attempts had gone from one a month to two, then to one a week and more until he was flinging himself onto the motorway nearly every other day. Killer knew he wouldn't let him die - that was the point.

His touch was warm, sending rippling tingles through his cheek and to his brain. It was a monumental effort for such a small task but Killer managed to lift his fractured arm, crippled fingers resting over Dream's hand shakily and keeping it there. "D-don't leave.."

It was a mere whisper in Dream's ears, one that nearly escaped him under the panicked shouts and blaring car horns from the public as they called the ambulance for his partner. "I'm not going anywhere yet." The angel managed a weak smile and shook his head. He'd stay with Killer until the threat of death had passed and the doctors had him on an IV drip and life support lines.

Those words seemed to relax the broken skeleton and he smiled, fingers twitching against his bones. "Good.. How's heaven..?" he whispered, a dry and wheezing laugh escaping him.

"Boring without you." It was an honest answer, the only one he could give. Watching Killer was all he did all day, cursed to watch his lover try to kill himself over and over and over and break down his soul piece by piece.

"Then let me die.. I'll make it a lot more interesting up there.." He mumbled, a hacking cough spitting blood across the grass beside him. "Please, Dream.."

"You know I can't do that, what's the point of being a guardian angel if I let you die?"

"Some people mess up in th-their jobs.."

"Not me, Killer." The angel shook his head, his golden wings lightly brushing over his body to ease the pain. Sirens wailed in the background, the ambulance nearly upon them.

He went silent at that, gripping onto him tighter as he heard the ambulance screech to a halt, paramedics spilling out like water in a river. He didn't want to live anymore, he didn't want to have to wake up again to an empty bed and a cold room, be forced to eat breakfast alone and cry to himself until he decided suicide was the only option again. He wanted to be with Dream - and permanently, not in these brief fleeting moments between near death and being shot full of pain killers and drugs by doctors.

"Please-" It was a hopeless plea, one that brushed over him like the howling wind. If he could have struggled when he felt hands around him he would have, he'd have screamed as he was dragged onto a stretcher, begged for them to leave him in the ditch so he could have a few more moments where he could fantasise death. But his words went ignored and he found himself placed in the back of the ambulance, people crowding around him as they strapped him up to an oxygen mask, pumped him full of morphine.

Already he could see Dream's figure fading, a faint outline of the person he loved stood outside the vehicle, expression pained. He knew he hated seeing him do this to himself - but it was the only way he got to see him.

He wanted to scream for him, yell for him to at least stay with him until he'd reached the hospital. But this was how it always played out - Dream leaving him as soon as the paramedics had him stable.

Before he could croak another word the doors slammed shut, and Dream was gone.

The angel stood still as he watched the ambulance pull away and speed down the motorway to the nearest hospital, Killer in the back surrounded by doctors and machines he knew the smaller hated. He'd pleaded for him to let him die so many times, yet he'd keep denying him over and over and over. He couldn't let Killer die, because then they'd never see each other.

You see, Dream didn't think he deserved to go to heaven, not at all. He saw himself as a scumbag really, more equipped to live the rest of his life burning in hell. But his stupid status as the ex-guardian of positivity forbade that, and he was forced to live up in heaven no matter what his own opinions were.

But Killer didn't have that blessing. He was a bad person - they both were really - the difference was that Killer didn't have a reputable past to give him a free pass to heaven. There was burning spot in hell just waiting for him - waiting to tear them apart even more so than they already were.

And he couldn't let that happen.