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There is safety and comfort in what you already know.
Sinking to the bottom of the sea, staring up at the reflected lights as though they are just reflections on the edges of mirrors. It's easy to rest on a bed of sand, to curl up and cover your eyes. It takes too long to realize you are drowning.
"I am afraid." Killer finally says, staring up at the ceiling. Nightmare's room is not as extravagant as you would think. It is incredibly humble looking, surprisingly so, and has little furniture. Then again, he rarely spends much time in his chambers, and most of his hours belong to his office.
Nightmare’s head gives slight noise to the sheets as it turns to look at him. Killer does not look back, his cheeks stained with the remnants of corruption. "I am very afraid." Killer repeats.
There is no touching. They lie in bed together, looking up and past the ceiling to the sky they cannot see here. Killer cannot bear to touch Nightmare without falling into madness once more. The intimacy in their proximity is already intoxicating enough to him.
"Why?" His friend asks.
"It is the thing I remember best." Killer replies.
"I see." Nightmare turns away, his hands folded over his hips. Fingers intertwine like the laces of boots, tightly, interlocking. Tonight, he is vulnerable, but his powers are no different. He knows Killer is afraid. He always has known.
Killer blinks slowly. He is tired. But his mind is full, and tomorrow is dreadful, but tonight is peace. He doesn't want to close his eyes and walk to the next day. He doesn't want to face what his thoughts have next. "I am always afraid."
Nightmare cannot sleep. He has never known what it is like to dream. But by remaining at Killer’s side, he can protect him in a way. They can rest together, and it brings him closure.
"Is that so?"
"Yes." Killer never gives clear answers to anyone but Nightmare.
Silence.
This goes on for hours.
Killer does not rest.
"Why won’t you sleep?" Nightmare asks. Killer frowns.
"I cannot stop thinking." Killer responds. "I am always thinking. Always afraid." Nightmare remembers this is why Killer asked for his help. "I see."
Pause.
Dream had always known how to help.
It is with his brother’s voice in mind that he manages to utter these words. "Do you want to talk?"
Killer goes silent again. This is a different silence. Tense. Choked. There's a twisting, aching mass of emotion that settles in the base of his throat, and Nightmare patiently waits for Killer to sort through it.
The answer is quiet. "I have seen many things. I have done some and watched things happen to me. I cannot forget. I will never be clean."
The night is gentle.
The sheets quietly rustle again. "I am here, and you are here now." Nightmare says. Killer chuckles, but the mirth comes out as a sob.
"Don’t leave me." Killer hoarsely pleads. "Don't go anywhere. I'll follow you wherever you take me, but please don't leave me behind."
Nightmare nods. Killer does not see it, but he knows. "I won't." The tension bleeds out of Killer's shoulders, and he relaxes ever so lightly into the sheets.
His ribcage expands with the deep breath he takes. It falls slowly with his exhale. "You should sleep." Nightmare notes.
Killer nods back. "I know."
Nightmare does not look at him as the tears run down his face. He can see them already, out of the corner of his eye, bleeding black into red. They pool in the corners of Killer’s eye sockets and fall down, heavy and fat. He can feel it all, like being submerged in a shallow pool, but weighed down by rocks. Nightmare does not move.
They are quiet.
"I forgot what he looks like." Killer croaks. "I forgot so much about my house. But I can't forget what happened to me. Is that selfish?"
Nightmare is aware of how close their hands are. It wouldn't take much to hold him. If they touch, Killer can stop crying. He wouldn’t be in pain anymore, but Nightmare knows that is bad for him. This is the pain he needs. This is the grief he needs. This is the mourning Killer never got - for the death of the person he was before the choice of being him was taken away from him.
"You are alive." Nightmare tells him. He knows something of looking in the mirror and seeing someone else. But the choice to change was made with his own two hands.
"Leave no room for it by living." He tells Killer. "Those things have happened, but there is much to remember now and things much more sacred."
"What is sacred?"
"You."
A pause. Nightmare resolutely does not look at Killer when he hears the other man’s head move against the pillowcase, turning to look at him.
"What do you mean?"
Nightmare looks away from the stars beyond his roof and away from Killer.
"You are sacred in the way you have become what you are now." He explains. "Every pain, every thought, every wish and smile. Each life is sacred. Detailed and rich. Regardless of that mind who walks it."
"You’re speaking riddles again."
"The truth is often confusing."
This startles a small laugh out of Killer.
"You think the individual is sacred." Killer rephrases.
"Yes. And they are players in another individual's life."
He holds a hand up to the sky, watching as its open palm grasps gently at the moon he can see in his mind.
Killer watches him closely. Always looking at him. Nightmare does not see the quiet devotion in the twist of his mouth, or the way his eyes lid in contentment, but he feels it. Bone deep and unsettlingly passionate, god, he feels it.
"Isn't that grand?" Nightmare murmurs, his voice slightly tight. "For everything is so small when you think of it. But it's all emotion that makes it so big to us."
"But it hurts sometimes. The pain overwhelms my mind and body. My dread controls me in my darkest hours. I feel like rocks pile onto me, and my steps are a staircase deeper and deeper into the earth."
Nightmare smiles. It is bittersweet.
"They make happy moments so much more special." Nightmare replies. "It hurts. But it is momentary. There is always time to enjoy what you have, even when you are in chains."
Killer closes his eyes.
"I understand." He finally says. "But it’s hard to accept that."
Nightmare looks back at him.
"Repetition helps us remember. You know best from fear and pain, but you know what it feels like to be happy. There is nothing wrong with progress."
Killer opens his eyes a crack to look at him.
"... What about the memories?"
Nightmare meets his gaze. "Know that they happened, but you are here now, and you exist in a world of worlds. Time moves regardless of our pain, so we should follow it forward. Pain and happiness are constants, so we may as well enjoy what we have."
Killer closes his eyes again.
"You’re awfully wise tonight."
"In our most vulnerable forms, we all become the wisest."