Chapter Text
Purple wasn't sure if he processed it well, or maybe he disconnected it, buried it, and punched it to the ground. He's been punching things a lot, maybe he's angry with himself. It reminds him of Papa. Maybe that's the only similarity he has with Papa, that familiar built-up frustration.
He doesn't keep up a routine besides sitting next to Mama's grave. He wonders if she can hear him. He hopes he can. Tell her that he's not okay and he misses her. Tell her he's incredibly upset with everyone and everything. This town has brought nothing but pain to him. What's the point?
In a moment of sadness, he thinks it would be kinder if he passed in his sleep. And he flinched at the idea, sickening, because he remembers her lying in bed, at peace, yet not alive. What a horrible thought- Purple was, of course, a horrible person. He accepts that.
Yet he wanders like a ghost, wondering if he could leave this place. Go somewhere far away. Maybe run a kingdom or whatever. Sit on a throne. Whatever, he doesn't care. He passed by the bridge; it was a long walk, but he liked it there- not many people crossed the bridge, not a lot of cars either.
Yet Purple was concerned at the railings; they weren't tall enough.
He saw someone up ahead, a man; he wore what looked like a coat too big for him- or maybe he wore many layers of clothes. Purple noticed stitched golden stars on the back- some of them stickers, some of them falling off. The man staggered; he walked, yet had no fixed destination.
Purple kept distance because he was oddly concerned. Maybe he'll cross the road, walk on the other end. He did that and he saw from a different angle that the orange stick looked tired, unfocused, and then suddenly stopped. He looked at the horizon and stared- it was cloudy yet no rain; it almost seemed grey.
Purple just stared, oddly enough. It reminded him of when he sat on the porch with Navy or when he walked this very same bridge with Orchid. Purple looked at the horizon on his end, away from the man, and he saw that even when the sky is full of clouds... There was an odd sense of calm in it. No cars passing by. No noise.
Purple kinda understands it. Maybe that's why that man is-
He looks back to see the man sitting on the fence, looking down. Back turned, Purple could count the stars on the jacket but- why was he shaking? Why was he just staring at the man sitting on the edge? He didn't grasp the railings with a sort of steadiness- as if he was ready to let go.
Purple let out a shaky sigh, his heart beating like it was about to explode; his hands were sweaty, and he started breathing faster. Why can't he speak? Why can't he-
The man jumps. Purple runs across the road. He hears a splash- and without thinking, Purple jumps over the railings and dives into the deep waters.
Purple was a decent swimmer; he was aware of that. But trying to drag a barely conscious man from the depths is hard- Purple thrashed to keep him and the man above the water. He couldn't move- kicking his feet in the water to at least act as a sort of surface so the man wouldn't breathe in water.
Purple screamed for help. Anyone. He knew his voice wouldn't reach those on the other side. He thrashed again but felt something in his pocket.
He took it with one free hand, the other clinging desperately to keep the orange stick figure above water with himself as a "floaty". He held what looked like a firework, but not like the fireworks he'd seen. It was jagged, a collection of unfamiliar pixels, maybe smuggled assets from those shady markets. But an idea popped up! He gasps for air once more as he raised his arm, aimed at the sky.
Peeeeeeeww....
Boom!
Fireworks. Loud, bright, and colorful. It looked pretty- pretty enough to draw attention. It was hard to see but Purple focused on keeping the stranger's head above water. At least, at the very least, he could save someone. He couldn't save mama. He couldn't save papa. He could at least save this stranger - just one person, just one person please.
Please. Please don't die.
And Purple, who felt weakness fall upon him, felt a pair of arms- no, more- carry both him and the stranger. People who swam across to get them, some even got those small boats, and dragged them to shore.
Purple almost died, but he woke up, coughing, water out of his lungs. People surrounding him, telling him it's okay, that he's still alive. Purple looked to his right and saw someone doing CPR, someone yelling, ”Dammit, Mango, wake up!"... Huh, is that the vendor who sells corn dogs? Huh, what a small world.
He heard a cough and a groan, craning his neck to watch as the strange orange stick let out a rasp as the vendor had a firm grip on his arm, as if clinging onto Mango to ensure he stays with him.
“G-Gold…?”
A pained look finds its way onto the vendor, and he shakes his head.
“I’m sorry. Look- help is on its way… Just stay with me, okay, Mango? You hear me? Don’t you dare close your eyes-!”
Purple could hear sirens, and he just... lay there. As long as that man is alive, then... Then Purple did something good for once. But everything was so loud still. Maybe he should leave this place. Go somewhere quiet.
He watched as they carried this ‘Mango’ guy away; Purple seemed to remember him still. Of course, they took in Purple too, but his recovery was much quicker. He wonders if Mango was okay too, asking some people about that man.
All he knows is that this Mango person was going through something rough. Purple just nods; for a moment, he thinks of Navy.
He was thanked for saving the man, and Purple didn't feel much- only glad it's over. That he did something good- but he didn't want any interviews or anything, so he left. He did run into that corn dog vendor again who shook Purple’s hand, thanking him for saving Mango.
“You look like you’ve been through enough, kid. Go home and take a break.”
Purple complied, but he didn’t go home- because all that remained was a house where Mama died. For a moment, maybe Purple should go somewhere far away… It’s too depressing to stay in the city. So he makes his exit, finding a far-away place where he can leave it all, to silence the noise of the city, the people, the memories.
Even if that far-away place is made up of blocks and strange entities, Purple accepted it.
Much time passed, and such, Purple didn't expect he'd meet Mango again when he saw that drawn wanted poster. It had the faces of people he recognized, people he met in the past. For a moment, he thought this may lead to another nonsensical adventure. He thought it was a joke, but when he saw who made it, he froze.
The man who jumped off that bridge.
The man who wore that big jacket covered in gold stars.
The man that almost drowned… until Purple saved him.
As expected, Mango didn't recognize him, but Purple recognized him.
Maybe that's why Purple stuck around... Maybe Purple wanted to save this one. Save Mango from whatever suffering he's going through. Because he couldn't save Orchid from her sickness, couldn't save Navy from his own self, but maybe he could save this one.
He just wished he had been more attentive at the end. He should’ve seen the signs with the empty picture frames and star motifs that covered the old walls. A person who grieved the loss of a child- of their world. Purple wished he realized that he wasn’t saving this one but instead was leading him to a path of self-destruction. That even someone like him would try again.
Another suicide attempt. A plan to destroy and to die with it. Was Purple a curse? That people are destined to die in front of him? Purple truly was horrible…
But when a familiar green hand found its way onto his shoulder along with a sympathetic voice that encouraged Purple to not give up… then maybe, just maybe, Purple could fix this.
Purple can save him again.