Chapter Text
It was a normal day at Nightmare’s castle. Well, normal for them anyways. Anyone else would’ve died from their… let’s call them “shenanigans” because that is the closest descriptor. Anyways, the Murder Time Trio had only killed three people that day, and Nightmare was proud of their self-control. Cross was unsurprisingly absent, probably training. No one was particularly worried about him; he’d show up eventually. The Stars hadn’t shown up when they terrorized random AUs for three months, but they all considered this a good thing. Error even hung (literally) around for an entire hour before screaming curses at them and leaving. They were making good progress.
So anyways, on this perfectly normal day someone rang the doorbell. This in itself was also normal. Cross had somehow gained a cult following of the local gremlins, and they often left him “offerings”, which were typically chocolate. So, that’s what Killer was expecting on such a normal day. That is not what was on the doorstep.
“Nightmare! Ya might wanna see this!”
“What.” Nightmare snapped as he materialized, sounding like that one person in the local parent support group who was cursed with demon children.
Killer pointed at the doorstep rather than say anything because he lives dangerously. Nightmare looked down. He immediately knelt down and picked up the object.
“Hello there.” he said with uncharistic gentleness. He turned to Killer. “Where did they come from?”
Killer shrugs. “Hell if I know.”
The Guardian sighed before noticing a note next to where the object, which was a bottle full of three bitties in poor condition, sat. He picked it up and unfolded it carefully. He read whatever was on it with an unreadable expression. Killer could tell that he was carefully containing his rage. He almost felt bad for the little things, even if they looked just like the Stars.
Nightmare handed the bottle to Killer, careful not to jostle the bitties inside. “Go find a place for them. See if Horror has something they could eat. Then meet me in the living room. I’ll get the others.”
Killer nodded, as it was best not to do anything that would set his boss off when he got like this, and set off to the kitchen. He paused halfway, glancing at the three.
“It must be hard to breathe in there,” he commented. “Le’ me just…” he uncorked the bottle. “There! Better?”
None of the bitties moved. The yellow one, who was probably based off of Dream, just looked at him wearily before noticing Killer’s staring and quickly bowing his head. Killer could’ve sworn that look was familiar…
“Quiet, arn’cha?” he asks as he continues walking. “That’s fine. Dust was too. Unless he was screaming.”
He noticed the blue one curling up.
“It must’a been hard on him, hallucinatin’ his bro ‘n’ all. I don’t think he really knew what was happenin’ back then. Anyways, ya hungry?”
No response. Weren’t bitties supposed to be social or something?
“Well, Horror’ll probably make you food anyways. You look hungry, and he doesn't like it when people starve.”
The three shared a glance.
“Oh! You’re scared!” he guesses, and they all flinch. Right, too loud. “Don’t worry. Nightmare’s a total sweetheart. Don’t tell him I said that though. He likes to think that he’s ‘intimidating’ and ‘cool’.”
Now the bitties look confused. Well, Nightmare really was intimidating. Especially when he was on the warpath like today. Not that Killer would ever tell him that.
“Cross’ll probably love you. He likes cute things. He swears that he doesn’t, but I’ve seen his stuffed animal collection. Dust is… okay if you avoid him on Bad Days and don’t interrupt his Chaos Science.”
None of the bitties responded, but Killer was expecting it this time and didn’t let it throw him off.
“Anyways! We're here!” he tells them as he opens the door to the kitchen. “Horror! We got bitties!”
Horror, to his credit, didn’t question it beyond the customary, “Does Boss know?”
“Course he does! What do ya take me for? A miscreant?”
He was actually proud of himself for knowing that word. Unfortunately, Horror apparently knew it too.
“Yes. ‘member tha las’ time ya brought sumthin in?”
“I honestly thought he’d agree to let us keep those! Instead we have blatant favoritism. Dust gets a pet!”
Horror rolled his functional eyelight. “Drama queen. Le’ me see ‘em.”
Killer handed the bottle over, and Horror set it on the counter.
“Are ya gon’ come out?” he asks them.
They all get out, and Killer’s almost jealous that Horror got a reaction before he notices just how lifeless they look. It reminds him of the puppet shows that Error did when he was in a good mood, jerky and controlled by strings. They stood silently on the counter, heads down and almost completely still like they were trying to disappear into the background. He’s suddenly reminded of the dolls Chara had before she cut their hair and ripped their limbs off.
“They’re defina’ly ‘ungry.” Horror rumbles, clearly upset. “Where’d ya get ‘em?”
“Doorstep.” Killer says. “Nightmare found a note, and now he looks ready to kill someone. Which reminds me, Boss wants us in the living room once ya feed ‘em.”
Horror nods and moves around the organized chaos that is the kitchen, probably looking for food.
“Wha’ d’ ya wanna eat?” he asks them.
They don't answer, and Horror’s face falls.
“They’re pretty quiet.” Killer says. “Maybe try givin’ them lotsa options?”
Horror nods again, and grabs some stuff from the cabinets. Killer just leans on the counter next to the bitties, who are trying to discreetly move away. He decides not to point it out and instead starts humming. Aren’t you supposed to let them come to you? So that they feel safer? He’s pretty sure that was for cats, but it worked on Cross, so why not bitties?
They don’t come closer, and Killer tries not to be disappointed. This has to be scary for them, and given their various assortment of scars, they had no reason to trust anyone . He was starting to get why Nightmare looked so murderous.
Horror came back with food before he could accept that he’d gotten attached so quickly. Food was laid out, both of them careful not to startle the bitties. He noticed some chocolate in there. Horror must’ve had the same realization he had.
The three just stared at the food like they couldn’t quite understand why it was there. Killer remembered that Horror was the same way, once.
“Go on.” he prompted. “Eat up.”
The brown one (he should really stop calling them the color that they’re wearing) was the first to make a move, swiftly grabbing a cracker and scarfing it down like he thought it might be taken away. When nothing happened, the other two crept forwards and grabbed more crackers at the same speed.
Horror seemed satisfied. He turned around to walk out the door.
“We’re just gonna leave them?” Killer asked. The bitties ate slower, like they were listening in but trying not to be obvious. Well, if he didn’t want them to overhear, he’d have had this conversation elsewhere.
“They’re jus’ eatin’.” Horror declared.
“Can’t argue with that.” Killer decided. “Well, let’s go.”
Neither of them noticed the bewildered looks the three bitties sent them as they left.