Happiness

This wasn't supposed to happen.
It was supposed to be the same, like every other visit.
Lure them in, make them smile.

It wasn't supposed to be the other way.

Smiley clutched his bleeding shoulder, wincing beneath the mask at the throb of the bullet that stubbornly stayed lodged in. His body tried to heal, to regenerate, but for some reason, it wasn't working.
BANG!!!
Smiley stumbled in his step and crashed against the wall. He looked down to find his waist now blooming in shades of red. He looked over his shoulder at the sound of hysterical laughter filling the hallways.
"Don't go running off on me just yet!" sang a joyful voice. In the darkness of the hallway a figure stepped into view. He brandished a cop uniform, and a smile far too wide. His eyes practically glowing with glee, he held the gun up to Smiley once more.
"We were just having fun!"

Matias brushed some hair away from Oliver's forehead and gave him a goodnight kiss. Smiling softly at the slumbering child, he stood up and left his room, heading to the living room. He glanced at the clock as he did so, his expression growing stern. It had been a few days since Smiley left for one of his visits. Sometimes he was back the same day and sometimes it took a while. It never took this long, though. Although if he had to guess, that idiot was probably busy drawing smiles on his stupid bags. The milkman rubbed the back of his neck feeling a faint blush cover his face. He was starting to get too used to having that psycho around, he was almost looking forward to hearing his stupid jokes.
As if on cue he heard a heavy thump against the door. Matias grunted, biting down a small smile that tried to push its way through. He walked forward and opened the door. "Speak of the de-"
It was indeed Smiley, but he wasn't his usual perky self. He was slumped against the door frame clutching his shoulder, bullet holes on his stomach and his leg, all not healing.
"Hel... Hello Matias," wheezed the killer. His mask, although covering most of his face, was ripped enough to show a bleeding mouth. He took heavy steps forward, a stunned milkman stepping aside to let him in. After about three steps, without turning his head, Smiley said, "If you don't mind... would you... please get help?"
He collapsed against the dresser.
"W-Wait-!" Matias yelled out, quickly catching the man. He looked over his wounds then ripped off his mask. His eyes were closed. "Richard! Hey!"
He wasn't responding.

Richard rested on the bed of the guest room, unconscious. Matias sat near the bed, with Donut standing over him.
"I've never seen anything like it," Donut muttered. "The bullets that shot him let out some strong acid that ate away at him the same time his body tried to regenerate. He was hit by three of those, too, so his regeneration was stretched out too much."
"What does that mean?" the milkman muttered, still watching the sleeping killer.
"It means he was basically just a normal person getting shot. His body couldn't heal and because of that it just kept bleeding and bleeding. I'm surprised he stayed awake as long as he did. I managed to clean up the acid, so his body should be going back to normal. But I don't know how long he'll stay in that coma. It could be hours, could be a month." He smiled sadly at him. "So that's what he looks like under the bag. I would've never guessed. I wish I didn't have to see it under these circumstances." He comfortingly pat his friend's shoulder before leaving the two alone.
Matias stared at Richard's sleeping face. He wanted to think that this was just another stupid joke, that he'd get up and smile as if nothing had happened. But he didn't. He stayed sleeping, struggling to breathe correctly. That face that always smiled so smugly, with mysterious eyes always watching him, the jokes and laughter that always seemed to erupt from him.
Now he was silent and somber.
Matias clenched his fists and leaned in closer. "Wake up," he urged. "Come on, wake up! Tell me how much you like soymilk! Say my smile is beautiful! Tell me you want to go to 7/11! Just wake up!" he begged.

But he didn't.