𝐃𝐄𝐉𝐀 𝐕𝐔

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟑𝟐

I practically collapsed as I reached the manor's door - I'd ran there, desperate to avoid having to fend off emo Ronald McDonald again. Luckily, I didn't - but I'd obviously overworked something; I fell to the floor, having to push myself up against a wall. I could hear the fast thudding in my ears as I took in laboured breaths - pushing my back against the wall. I rolled my head to the side, dragging my knees to my chest. I felt like I was going to pass out. I closed my eyes as my mouth hung open - allowing my chest to rise and fall with every slowing breath.

"Toby?" A voice asked - gentle and concerned tone coating the familair sound; it offered a warmth that the weather most likely lacked. "Toby, what happened - you're bleeding somewhere?" This time, the voice was accompanied with a small grunt as two arms wrapped around me and pulled me up - my head rolling against their shoulder. I opened my mouth to speak, only to let out an incoherent mumble - only allowing myself to slouch against them. They sounded familiar, they really did, my brain was just fuzzy. "Let's get you inside, okay?" They continued, their arms gently shifting to an almost embrace-like hold.

"Okay." I mumbled breathlessly - like I was winded, attempting to push against the floor with my feet as I could feel them struggling to navigate themselves and me through the door. Though, it was difficult when you felt like a ragdoll; you felt like you had control over your limbs, when they had given up on you. Weak - paper-like. "There.. There was a clown." I added, taking in another soft mouthful of air. I lazily peeled my eyes open; being met with the similar look of black fabric. It was soft, yet worn - it smelt familiar too. It smelt like me but someone else. "And a rabbit, too." I continued, my words starting to melt together.

"Okay, how's about we focus on warming you up first and making sure you haven't broken anything. Then we can talk about what you saw." They suggested, causing me to slowly nod into their shoulder. Their soft tone did cause a sort of comfort, it was significantly different to the belittling and ridiculing tone that Laughing Jack had spoken to me with. "You wore a coat with a turtleneck though, that's good. That's good." They added - their concern causing them to ramble, which seemed to frustrate me. Why wouldn't I wear a coat?

"'m not stupid." I grumbled against their clothing, attempting to push myself away, only to fail miserably; my arms merely let me press against their sides and try to force distance between us, before giving in - causing me to slump against their chest, my eyes forced to glare daggers into the white material. "Can take care of myself." I slurred, my eyebrows knitting as I spoke. My thoughts were more collected than my speech.

"Hey, hey - calm down, relax." They mumbled, gently pulling me so I was resting against them again - probably so it was easier to 'drag' me around to wherever they planned to (most likely a medical room). "I never said you were stupid. I just occasionally call you a dumbass." They continued.

"Cody?" I asked, quietly in a higher pitched voice - shifting my head so my chin was against their chest, allowing myself to get a look at them. It was - his green eyes were widened with worry instead of his usual judgemental look (though that was typically reserved for people he looked down upon - which was quite a few around these woods). "The clown made me see you but it wasn't real." I added, allowing my eyes to wonder elsewhere. Wait, did I wear his clothes that much that they smelt like me too? I turned to look back to him, pressing my forehead against his shoulder and inhaling.

I felt Cody gently shift away, "Okay - you've been acting weird lately too." He commented, almost like a huff under his breath. "Seeing a clown? Asking random questions, avoiding me and now smelling me!" He rambled, "What's been going on with you? I just found you sat up against a wall with a trail of blood leading into the forest!" The man asked - gently pulling away, whilst also holding onto my shoulders so I didn't topple over. His concern had mixed with annoyance; his foresty hues starting to narrow as his thin brows furrowed, but his lips were parted - a sign he wasn't angry. Or not completely, anyways.