Chapter Text
It wasn’t a particularly nice day. The weather had poured rain onto them and nothing was going right.
People were being difficult, transport was taking forever, and everything just had it out for them.
They were frustrated. Texting Terry didn’t help, he was busy. Griefer was still recovering and… “ugh, nobody’s available.” They slumped down at the bus stop, shivering from the wind.
Today took a lot out of them. They snapped at people and said some rather….unsavory things.
Oh god, what if people hate them now? What if Shedletsky asks them to stop their quest and they’d never be able to go home?
What if— what if— oh they spiraled so horribly, their breathing growing erratic and their body hurting more and more. They clutch their chest, almost gasping for air when the bus arrived. The climbed on quickly, hiding in their hood.
They rocked back and forth, trying everything in their power not to start crying.
It thankfully wasn’t long until player got off, bolting to their hotel room and hiding under the blankets, sobbing into their pillow.
This day was no good, they had accepted. But now their mind was against them. Overthinking everything from some nasty words to killing the king of blackrock kingdom.
It made their stomach churn. They got up and went into the bathroom, sitting on the floor.
Their hands felt cold and brittle. They could barely text, but they got their message out there. But only to two people…
“Fuck. They’re not gonna come over.” They muttered, dropping their phone, sitting and staring at the wallpaper.
They couldn’t discern what aesthetic it was going for, not that it mattered. Anything to distract them at this point.
“…” they sniffled, staring at the the decorations. “Fish.” They said out loud, trying to calm themself “…c-clownfish. And… those…that’s kelp.” They rub their cold hands on their chest, trying to feel something that wasn’t pain or discomfort.
Tears rolled down their face. They were having a hard time breathing. Everything hurt, their hands felt so brittle and cold, their chest tight.
What if this was it for them? What if they couldn’t continue on with their quest… what if they could never go home?
They had just barely noticed how sweaty they got. It must’ve been hot. They shut the door and locked it before taking off their coat and shirt.
“…” they slumped against the wall, feeling the worn texture of their coat. A comfort, from their parents. “Would you be proud?” They mumbled to themself, “or would you see me like they all did?”
They wipe their nose with their arm. Gross, but they didn’t care. “I have blood on my hands. People died because of me…” they sighed.
the lights in this particular hotel were warmly colored. It helped with their raging headache.
“…” they went quiet, laying down on the tiled floor. Their hair splayed out in different directions, the little wings on their head wiping their tears.
The ceiling was white, didn’t have much going on with it. A stark contrast to the many thoughts stabbing their mind.
…
… but despite all that, their fatigue caught up with them, and they fell asleep. Not the ideal sleeping conditions, but who were they to complain.
…
Who knows how much time passed when they finally awoke. They lazily reached for their phone, looking at it in case anyone texted them back.
Nobody did.
A sharp, familiar pain struck their heart.
They were alone. They were alone and in pain.
It felt….horrible. What have they done wrong? What were they doing?
They put their phone down.
Their hands trembled, their chest tight. They were certain their legs would fumble if they wanted to walk.
They couldn’t stay down forever of course. They forced themself to sit up, picking up their phone again to look at the time.
4:13am.
It makes sense nobody would text them this late. Kyoko has a much better sleep schedule than them. And Finn was probably passed out drunk or something.
They eventually forced themself to stand, their legs wobbly. They grabbed the discarded laundry and shambled out to where their bed was, turning off all the lights.
They changed into some black flannel pajama pants, and a blue shirt they got from mayor Monty as a thank you gift.
Sitting on the bed, they felt the texture of the shirt. It was new, but not cheap. It was nice, especially when they felt everything.
“There’s definitely something wrong with me.” They muttered, “I’ll figure that out if I don’t die.”
They laid down after plugging their phone in, merely focusing on what they feel, rather than their thoughts, as those were betraying them.
They will be okay.
Just not right now. And that’s perfectly okay.