Poth Short Stories and One-Shots

At the End of It All: Chapter 2

Chapter Warnings: Injury, blood (marrow), character death(s), depression, suicide

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Another wave of dizziness tore through Goth as he hunched over the table, clinging to the only object sturdy enough to hold him as the urge to cough overcame him. Each violent expiration of breath wracked his body and drained his strength as an idle corner of his mind wondered if this was how Palette had felt in his final moments; a question that might have made his proverbial stomach turn if he didn't already feel so horrible.

Finally, his fit came to an end as he took trembling gasps of air and opened his watering sockets; dark, grimy-looking marrow was now splattered across his sleeves, speckling the faded wood beneath him and the nearby tail of his former husband's precious scarf. He carefully pressed on the table to bring himself up from his huddled position and took inventory of himself; his skull was throbbing angrily alongside his pulse, making it difficult to think straight while his body seemed to move as if on a delay. He stumbled over to a box by the mattress that served as their nightstand as quickly as his unsteady feet could carry him, flopping in front of it and digging into Palette's old art supplies... he didn't have much time left.

Pulling out a piece of paper and the first writing implement that came to hand, he hastily wrote out a note telling the next poor soul who managed to stumble upon their home that they were free to use whatever they found here as they saw fit; it wasn't like he would need this place and its meager contents anymore.

Bringing the note back over to the table, he placed it down and grasped the jar. Unscrewing the cap, he returned to the mattress and began sprinkling the contents onto the surface. As he did so, his final interaction with Palette played in his mind.

~~~

"We'll figure something out, please just hold on for a little longer!" Goth pleaded, fighting down his panic as he helped Palette limp over to a chair and ran for their medical supplies; the bite on their leg wasn't that bad... he could still fix this-

"Goth...," the smaller skeleton froze at the weary tone, slowly turning to meet his husband's once-bright face; it looked so ashen and haggard now, laced with the pain and fatigue of a monster just barely holding himself together, "We both know what's going to happen; we've already seen it too many times... there's only one way you can help me now."

"No!" Goth shook his skull violently, refusing to even entertain what Palette was suggesting, "I can't do that to you!"

Palette shakily stood from the chair, slowly hobbling over to Goth's position. He paused a few steps away as a coughing fit took over and his balance wavered. The smaller bolted over, grabbing his husband to steady them; a pair of arms wrapped around him for a hug and he reciprocated the action as their voice rasped, "Please... you're the only one who can do it... I... I don't want to turn into one of those things... I don't want to... to hurt you... p-please..."

The pain and desperation in Palette's voice felt like daggers to Goth's soul; his husband was dying and nothing could stop it. Tears began to well up in his sockets as he slumped onto the floor, holding his companion close while clutching onto the back of their jacket, "This isn't fair... you're all I have left!" He buried his face into their shoulder, letting the fabric absorb his misery while he sobbed, "There has to be something! I can't lose you... I don't want to be alone... pleeease..."

"I don't want this either... but I don't think I have much of a choice...," Palette pulled away slowly, a sad smile breaking through his pained visage, "but if I have to go, I at least... want to go while I still have my mind... as the monster you loved. And hey, you'll never be truly alone..." The monster placed his hand upon Goth's chest, his wedding ring briefly shining as the fading evening sun hit it, "As long as you're alive... and thinking of me, I'll always be right here with... with you."

Goth's trembling hands reached up to envelop the one pressed against his chest. "I could never forget you... never...," he whimpered, holding the hand close as wet streaks trailed down his cheeks; he didn't ever want to let go.

Leaning in to bump their foreheads together, Palette let out a froggy whisper, "Then promise you'll always keep fighting for me... even if I'm not here."

Goth's eye light craned up to find tears warring on the edge of his husband's sockets, yet there was also a smile. He wasn't a stranger to Palette's emotional side; such were the perks of marrying an empath, but it was rare for the monster to actually hold back those emotions... it was their way of reassuring him that things would be alright. Squeezing the hand in his grip, he nodded subtly and croaked, "Alright, I'll try..."

"Thank you...," Palette wheezed, removing their hand from Goth's chest to cover their mouth as another harsh coughing fit claimed them; the smaller held them steady through every shudder, clenching his sockets in an attempt to fortify himself for what would need to be done. When the noise ceased and the skeleton pulled their hand away to stare at the marrow staining their glove, a rictus smile appeared as his companion laboriously stated, "... Look's like... our time's up."

The finality of the statement nearly drove Goth to break down crying again, but he instead rose to his feet, staring down at where Palette was limply staring back up at him from the floor; the skeleton looked so tired, but also at peace with what was about to happen. Summoning his scythe, the smaller took in a sharp breath as he said, "I love you."

"I love you more," Palette responded in their familiar banter, giving him a reassuring smile and closing their sockets in acceptance.

Raising his weapon for the strike, Goth wailed the last line, "I love you most!" The blade sliced through the air and Palette's soul cleanly, severing the dying monster's connection to the living world; the scythe clattered to the ground and slid into the wall as the smaller skeleton lost his grip on the handle and dropped to his knees, keening as his world crumbled to dust in front of him.

~~~

Goth shuffled back over to the table, placing the now-empty jar upon his note to keep it from being displaced by a wayward wind. He leaned against the table as the memory brought an aching weariness with it, yet his sockets remained hallow and dry.

If asked, he honestly couldn't say how long it had been since Palette had left him; every day had blurred into the next, with most of his time spent sleeping when his body wasn't urging him to move or eat. His best guess was a year, maybe two had passed; he had only seen snow come and go once and the weather was beginning to grow cold again.

Taking an unsteady breath in preparation, Goth forced himself off the table once more and latched onto the dusty scarf and hat before stumbling back over to the mattress. The rain began drumming on the metal roof of the shed, as if providing a drumroll for what would come next. Easing himself down onto the mattress as best as he could manage in his weakening state, he settled himself upon the fine layer of dust.

They would be together in death.

Placing the hat beside his skull and wrapping the beige scarf around his hand, Goth weakly raised his arm and summoned his scythe one final time. He lamented that this would technically be breaking his promise, but he really didn't want to continue roaming this world as one of the mindless undead... he would rather follow Palette to wherever they had ended up.

Pressing his blade into the space between his ribs and tearing through the fabric of his shirt, he closed his sockets, softly begged, "Please forgive me...", and ripped through his sternum and soul. His arms immediately fell limp and the sound of his soul shattering echoed in his skull as the world swiftly plunged him into cold darkness.

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Word Count: 1,399