Chapter Text
Micheal stared at the black ceiling. Dad had put him to bed an hour ago, looking really sad, but Papa hadn’t come in to say goodnight. Maybe Papa was out late tonight. Well there was no harm in checking, right?
The piglin tried to quietly climb out of bed, underestimating the height to the floor. He fell on his side, making a dull thump, but it didn’t hurt. He sat on the floor for a few seconds, trying to adjust his eyes to the light.
Before he could, however, his room was flooded with light. Micheal blinked a few times, clutching his duck stuffed animal that Papa had given him, and saw Dad standing in the doorway. Dad took a few steps forward and kneeled down in front of Micheal.
“Whatcha doing, baby?” He asked softly. Micheal noticed how sad he sounded. In fact, Dad looked as though he had been crying.
“I want papa to read me a story,” Micheal asked, timidly. Dad’s face went from just looking sad, to looking like he was in pain.
“Oh, baby, come here,” Dad sits cross-legged and pats his lap, and Micheal crawls over. “Micheal, something really bad happened to your papa today,” Dad says gently, “ He won’t be coming home, okay?” And Micheal is confused. Something bad happened to Papa?
“Is he lost?” He asks, voicing the first worry that comes to his head. Dad shakes his head sadly.
“Not quite, little one.” Dad is looking at Micheal like he is about to cry. Micheal doesn’t want to see Dad crying.
An awful thought comes to the young zombie’s head. “Did papa get hurt?” He asks, voice full of fear.
Dad nods, an empathetic look on his face. “He got hurt really badly. He isn’t coming home.”
Micheal isn’t quite sure what he is saying. Is Papa in the hospital?
Suddenly Dad starts crying. “Micheal, Ranboo was killed today, before he could come home. He- he died.”
Micheal took a second to process this. Papa- died? As is, he’s gone? Forever? No more hugs, kisses, bedtime stories? Tears well up behind his working eye. Micheal didn’t even try to stop them.
He sobbed into Dad’s shirt, clutching him like it was the only thing he had left. Dad held him to, the pressure and touch both slightly comforting. Micheal knew Dad was crying too, and wrapped his little arms around Dad’s torso, hugging him back. Dad only cried harder.
Micheal cried until he was too tired to keep his eye open.