Poth Short Stories and One-Shots

What You Fear: Chapter 3 (End)

Chapter Warnings: Nightmares, character death

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Palette groaned as he sat up slowly.

Where was he? Everything looked dark and shadowed; he could barely see his own hand. How did he get there? The last thing he remembered... the fight! The grizzly bear monster!

Stumbling to his feet, Palette called out to the void, "Goth? Hey, if you're there, answer me!" He staggering one way, then changed direction; where did he even begin?! Everything looked the same!

A noise behind him had the skeleton swiveling around to a sight that made his marrow run cold. Goth was standing there; standing before the imposing monster, arms spread wide. "No! Run!" Palette shouted, scrambling toward the two, but it didn't feel like he was making any progress; why wasn't he getting closer?!

"I... I can't," Goth glanced over his shoulder; his voice was trembling as he met Palette's eye lights with a frightened, but nonetheless determined, expression, "I won't let you-" He never got to finish his sentence as the bear's knife ripped through the small skeleton with a swift and powerful strike, sending shreds of white cloth and red marrow flying.

"GOTH!" Palette screamed, urging himself forward as his friend's body collapsed in on itself. "No...," he whimpered as the smaller's body began to crumble to dust, "NO!"

Lights flared around Palette and he shot up, soul racing and breathing heavily. Frantically, he took in the entirely new surroundings: a pale orange hospital room.

Was he... was all of that a dream? No... no, it was definitely a nightmare...

"Goodness me, I heard a shout; is everything alright?" A middle-aged, greying human woman was peeking into the room. "Oh dear!" she exclaimed, bustling over, "your monitor is going wild; did something happen?" Following her gaze, he noticed a machine blipping excitedly; the tones matched his own soul's frantic rhythm.

"I... just had a bad dream, I think," he replied, receiving a relieved smile from the woman; he couldn't help but match it. The calm moment gave way to worry once Palette's thoughts returned to his nightmare, "Goth? Have you seen Goth?"

The woman looked confused for a moment before she perked up, "You mean that little fellow that came in with you?" At his nod, she continued, "He's sleeping right over there in the bed next to yours."

Leaning to look past a white curtain, Palette could just barely make out the sleeping face of his friend. Why was he asleep? Did he get hurt?! Was he-

"Calm yourself, dearie, he will be alright," the nurse gently admonished, easing Palette back onto the bed he had unconsciously been trying to climb off of. Fluffing the sheets so they draped over his legs once more, she gave Goth a pitiful look, "Poor thing came in with you, passed out cold with more than two-thirds of his magic drained from him; we had to put him on an IV to stabilize him. The officer on the scene claimed he used it up trying to heal you. I have to say, he must not be very skilled at healing since the amount of magic he spent barely managed to close your wounds...," she paused, thinking aloud, "but it might have been enough to keep you going until you reached the hospital."

Palette traced where the gash had been; he barely felt a thing now. His soul clenched. He remembered Goth's telling him about their energy drain ability, way back after he had unwittingly stumbled upon his friend reaping a soul; from what he was told, he ability's very nature made it an antithesis of life and healing. On top of it, the monster couldn't fully control their power, only slowing it down by feeding their own energy back in. The whole process always left them tired and naps were a common occurrence.

Goth had known better than anyone, yet he had still tried to heal Palette...

A soft groan caught his attention; he looked up in time to see Goth sluggishly moving his left hand toward his chest, where a line from an IV fed into his ribcage. Lidded sockets scanned the room, eventually falling on Palette. "Palette?" he questioned, still groggy from sleep.

Before anyone could blink, Palette was off his bed and across the room pulling the smaller into a hug. "Oof... glad to see you're feeling alright," Goth breathed, patting his companion's back gingerly and prompting them to let go; he got an abashed 'sorry' in the process.

"Go easy on him, dearie; you are both still recovering," the nurse chuckled, then wrinkled her nose, "That fight sounded like nasty business." Neither monster could say they disagreed.

After checking both their vitals, the older woman stated that Palette was free to be discharged once he got the remains of the wound on his chest fully healed, stating she would send in a healer as soon as one became available. Goth had to wait for the IV to drain and his magic to balance itself out, but he was reassured it wouldn't take much longer.

"Thanks for earlier," Goth mumbled, twisting the sheets around his legs with a light blush on his face; Palette cocked his skull to the side in askance. Taking the hint, the smaller elaborated, "When you stepped in between me and that guy... with the knife..."

His starry eye lights shined as he exclaimed, "Of course! I'd never let anyone hurt my best friend!"

Goth withered a bit, chuckling sadly, "Best friend... right." Another quizzical stare was met with silence, the matter silently being dropped with a shrug.

After a minute or so of awkward silence, a tap was heard on the door; a small Whimsalot hovered in the doorway, "Someone requested a healer?"

Goth patted Palette's back, smiling as he said, "Come on, Pal, let's get you healed up."

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Word Count: 966