Forget-Me-Not (dreamxreader)

17 || Escape

TW: SWEARING, SLIGHT TRAUMA, SELF-DESTRUCTIVE BEHAVIOR, SLIGHT DEPRESSION

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I sit cross-legged on the bed next to Ranboo. He had slept like a dead person all night, sometimes he was so still I would have to put my head to his chest and listen for his heartbeat. He looked as though death had kissed him, and then let him be. 

My eyelids felt as heavy as stones, my chest was tight and my throat was sore from crying. I wasn't sure if I could even speak properly. I ran a hand through my hair that was tangled in so many knots I didn't know if they would even come out or if I'd have to cut them out. 

I just want to get out of here now. But I need Ranboo to wake up first, I need him to be ok before we can even think of escaping. I knew I didn't have any lessons today. I didn't want to see Schlatt's ugly face anyway. That sly smile and those gleaming horns in the light of the fire seemed to haunt me. How long does Ranboo need to be better?

I feel my chest pinch and sadness bubbles in my stomach like rot. Not wanting to wake Ranboo, I slip into the bathroom and run the tap. I feel my chest heave with sobs like last night. I listen to the running water and try to let it distract me. Needless to say, it does nothing to help. 

Stand up tall. 

I stop mid-cry and stare at my unseemly reflection. The voices were back. 

You can cry later, right now you need to get to work. 

I scoff. 
"You sick fucks, I can't do anything until Ranboo's better. I'm not leaving him behind!" I whisper shout at them with my thick voice. 

You can do more than wait. You must heal him. 

"How am I meant to do that? I know nothing about medicine, and I don't have any medicine that I could help him with," I mumble feeling angry and confused. 

Get the guitar.

"What?"

Play something for him. It will make him feel better. He likes it when you play for him. 

"But how will that heal him?"

It will make him feel better. That's what you want, isn't it?

"Of course that's what I want," the voices don't reply this time. 

I force myself to stand up tall and take in a shaky breath. I'm not sure what the voices were doing or thinking, but they were wise, far wiser than me or Ranboo. I decided to listen, I need to do something whilst I wait anyway. 

I walk past the couches and pick up the guitar from where I'd left it on the floor. I return to my cross-legged position at Ranboo's side. I watch him for a moment. He was sleeping, of course, but it was the most horrifying way I'd seen him. 

Ranboo told me a while ago that he doesn't need to sleep. Being Enderian, he has a connection to Enderman who don't sleep. The fact that he's in a state similar to a coma was terrifying. He really was very sick. 

Ranboo's skin like when he returned in the early hours of the morning was the same dull shades of light and dark grey rather than black and white. His hair was damp with sweat from the fever and he was still wearing the horrible moth-eaten clothes he had arrived wearing. He hadn't even moved, not to roll over or ask for a drink or food or anything. 

I forced back my sniffles and set up the guitar. I fiddle and strum randomly. I run scales softly up and down the guitar. I close my eyes and focus on the music. I let it take me away.