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He had just been going to get ice cream.
He had already bought the food and was walking back to their hotel room. When he first saw the person walking up the street towards him, he hadn’t thought anything about it. They had a dark expression on, white hood pulled up over their head. Blue jeans, white shoes. Blond, straight hair stuck out from under their hood, and black leather gloves hid almost the entirety of their hands except for a little square. On the back of their hand and knuckles, Eret could see fair skin mottled with freckles.
Continuing to walk on, Eret raised his head and kept moving. Then, he shifted the bags to his other hand so the person could walk by. The streets were almost entirely empty, just the pair of them. It was a nice street though, with nice cobblestones and pretty wreaths hanging from the streetlights due to the festival currently going on around them. Well, not quite around them, more of in the square instead.
The person slammed their shoulder into his.
Gasping, Eret tumbled to the ground, completely off balance. Throwing an arm out, he caught himself, flinched as his wrist smacked awkwardly on the ground. Looking up, he stared at them for a moment and swallowed nervously. “Hello?”
The person smiled down at him, tipped their head to the side. “Hi, Eret.” They said. Instantly, his heart dropped at the sight of a knife in their hand. He scrambled back, winced and pulled his arm to his chest. The ice cream sat in its bag to the side, but they didn’t seem to be noticing that.
No, they weren’t interested in Eret’s supplies. They were interested in Eret.
Lunging in, they pushed the knife into his stomach. He gasped, raised his head and froze. Driving the knife deeper into Eret’s stomach, they pulled him closer. Pressed his face into the crook of their neck and shoulder. As they twisted the knife, their own body and the hoodie blocked Eret’s weak cry of pain. Eyes widening, he swallowed. “I hope you die slowly, traitor.” They whispered. Then, they ripped the knife out, lifted a foot, and kicked Eret in the chest. Something snap-crack-thudded deep in his body.
Dropping down, he gasped. Clutched at the injury and stared up at them. “Wha—why—“ Glancing down, he pressed his hand to the knife wound in his stomach. They stepped towards him, grabbed onto his throat. Gasping, he grabbed at their wrist and stared at them. “Please. Just—“
They smashed him into the wall.
For a second, dark stars danced in front of his eyes. Head falling back, he gasped. Tried to breathe in. Then, they flipped him and slammed him into the ground. Weakly, he kicked at them. Tried to get an arm underneath himself and get up. There was another harsh kick to his back and he rolled slightly. Slammed into the wall.
Lying there, he cracked open his eyes. They bent down and drove the knife into his chest, right under where his ribcage ended. Letting out a choked, strangled noise, he tried to reach up and grab onto the knife, keep it to his body. They kicked him again, this time in the face.
Dropping his head against the concrete, Eret closed his eyes. Slowed his breathing down. He’d played dead and unconscious enough times he knew how to act. So, even as his attacker picked him up and manhandled him a fair bit to drag him and his items behind a dumpster, he didn’t move. Went totally limp, dropped his head back. A low wheeze escaped his chest and he heard them move. They reached up and felt his neck for a pulse, then hummed.
“Hope you wake up soon. If not…” They moved his head, tied a gag around his face and tightened it until it hurt. Then, their foot slammed down on his ankle.
Screaming, Eret’s eyes snapped open and looked up at them with a gasp. Smiling wickedly, they slammed their foot onto Eret’s other ankle. Jerking, he tried to move and reach towards the injury.
“If you move, I’ll break your wrists.” They hissed. Immediately, Eret paused and then crossed his arms and pulled them to his chest. There was another kick to his chest. Then, they stepped back and turned. “Toodles!” Wiggling their fingers, they walked away.
Pressing his head into the concrete, he swallowed weakly. Pain struck through his nerves. Closing his eyes, he took a slow and shaky breath. It hurt. It really hurt. Swallowing, he bit down on the gag, tried not to scream as he moved. Then, he reached up and grabbed onto the gag. Pulled it away from his mouth and sucked in a slow gasp and squeezed his eyes shut.
With shaking hands, he managed to pull up his communicator up. Come on, come on. With shaking hands, he chose Phil’s contact and dropped his head to the ground again. Swallowed slowly and closed his eyes for a moment.
“Eret? Is everything alright?” Phil’s voice asked. Opening his eyes, he swallowed and looked over.
“Hey, Phil.” Coughing, Eret said, “I got stabbed. Mind coming to get me?”
“What?” Phil asked. On the other side of the line, he could hear shuffling around. Swallowing, Eret looked out at the street signs.
“On West and Quartz. Please hurry.” Eret whispered. Closing his eyes, he took a breath, dimly heard Phil yelling at him to stay awake, to stay conscious.
The next thing he heard was people running up. Fingers brushed his cheek. Someone lifted him up, and he half-laughed. “Hey, Phil.” Blue eyes flicked over his injuries. There was some sirens in the street.
“Hey, Eret. Stay conscious. Stay with us.” Cradling him closer, Phil looked up. “Hey, hey, the paramedics are here. Just stay conscious for a little while longer.”
There was a light shrug and Eret dropped his head back. Closed his eyes.
The next time he opened his eyes, he was being moved through the hospital. Someone was holding his hand, and he glanced over to see Niki sitting there. A weak smile crossed his face, and she returned it lightly. Then, he closed his eyes again. Passed out again, apparently.
At least, he either passed out or was put under for surgery, because he woke up with stitches, bandages, and something stuck into his arm. An IV. And someone was holding his hand.
Looking over, he found Tubbo sitting next to him, holding his hand. Niki, Wilbur, Tommy, and Fundy were in the room with him, too. All the original L’manberg folks, he mused, smiling lightly. Tubbo snorted awake, looked over at him.
“Hey.” Rubbing a thumb across the back of his hand, Tubbo tipped his head to the side. “Are you alright? How do you feel?” Beside him, Tommy stirred, looked over. Straightening up, he flailed aroud and dropped out of the chair. Then, he held up a plastic bag. Tubbo rolled his eyes and then looked over. “We got you food.”
“Ow.” Tommy mumbled. Huffing lightly, Eret slowly pushed himself upright. Tommy passed him a Lunchable. Straight up a Lunchable. Smiling, he looked over.
“Thanks.” Holding up the cookies, he asked, “Want to share?”