Chapter Text
—
It was quiet.
The house was a little quiet, not absolutely silent though. The two worked in silence, doing their own thing, occasionally glancing over at each other. Purple was sorting through a box of clothes, folding sweaters and jeans and tucking them in the dresser drawers. Mango was sorting through books and shelving them.
Purple had finally gathered the courage to pick through their old apartment and grab their things, getting it all over to Mango’s house and getting it all put up. Setting up their room and making it theirs.
They were glancing at Mango, watching him occasionally pause and think for a moment. Mango occasionally glanced at them to watch them take a second, staring at whichever piece of clothing sat in their hands at that moment.
They worked in calming silence, the occasional sound of tree branches hitting the roof outside, or even the birds through the open bedroom window. They would occasionally spot one fly right by the glass, and Purple would pause.
Once the clock hit noon, Mango stood, dusting his pants off.
“So… you wanna grab lunch and come back to this later?” He asked after a minute. Purple hummed, setting another pair of jeans into the drawer before standing as well.
“Yeah. My hands are gonna start cramping from how many times I’ve folded jeans.” Purple replied, stretching a little. Mango nodded, tugging out his phone to find a place.
Purple took a moment to gaze around the room, cracking their neck from sitting in the same hunched over position (their posture was going to hate that).
Their bed was pushed into the corner, a shelf tucked behind it, right beside the window. Their desk was shoved over the foot of their bed, making a cozy little nook. Another bookshelf was pushed up against the wall, filled with books, organized alphabetically thanks to Mango’s help. A few pictures were hung up on the wall, some with Purple and the Color Gang, others with their Mom, or with Mango. Their Elytra was hung up on the wall, sheening brightly as ever.
It was a cozy room, small, and Purple loved it.
Mango let out a quiet ‘Hm?’ of interest, staring at his phone for a moment before turning the screen to Purple. Purple turned, reading the screen quickly.
A small sandwich shop just down the road around the corner.
Purple grinned and nodded.
“I’ll get my shoes on.”
—
The walk was nice. The sun was beating down on the sidewalk, and yet the fluffy, white clouds rolling across the sky and constant gentle breeze was nice. Trees brought the duo shade once they hit town, and Purple grinned.
“It’s great out here, isn’t it?” Purple asked, stretching their arms above their head, shoving their bangs up, eyes narrowing as the purple locks fell in front of their face again.
“I dunno. You spend more time outside than I do nowadays.” Mango replied, wearing just an oil-stained white t-shirt and some jeans. A single sunflower pin was clipped in his hair, holding some of it in place and out of his face.
Purple was wearing jeans shorts and a jacket, embroidered with crowns on the shoulders, a white t-shirt underneath that. Their hair was put up in a ponytail, which bounced as they walked. With white and black sneakers and just visible socks, Purple hummed, gazing around.
They never really went to this side of town much. They’d been city-oriented when they were younger, and once their mother had passed, they’d moved just to the outside of it, where apartments were cheap and jobs easy yet low-paying.
They bounced ahead, turning to walk backwards and grin at Mango. Mango sighed, and Purple almost cackled at him.
“You might trip.” He said, pushing his hair back as the wind pushed it out of place, the tired-parent-tone leaking through his voice.
“Meh. I’ll bounce.” Purple said, shrugging.
“You’re already bouncing all over the place.” Mango replied, grabbing their wrist and yanking them to a stop. “We’re here, by the way.” He pointed out, and Purple tugged their wrist away, playfully pouting.
Purple then blinked, processing his words, turning, and they grinned excitedly.
“Food!”
“Yes, food, now come on.”
—
“Goodness, this is good!”
“Mhm.”
Purple took another bite, and Mango snorted. Purple blinked, looking up at him.
“You have mayo on your nose.”
“What-?”
—
Then the two got distracted by a local thrift shop, and both were exploring in there, picking out random things, Purple even pointing out a sewing machine, for only 30 bucks. Mango hummed.
“Mmm… maybe.”
(They weren’t going to admit that Mango ended up getting it.)
—
Heading back home after grabbing a pick-up dinner, Mango set his prize on the small dining table, and Purple popped into the kitchen, grabbing water bottles and their food in one hand.
“...I noticed you have a picnic table outside.” Purple mumbled after a minute, glancing away out of nervousness. Mango chuckled.
“Yes, we can eat outside, Purple.” Mango replied, stretching and cracking his back a little, grabbing his own food. Purple grinned, immediately rushing out of the screen backdoor, nearly tripping down the small stone steps.
After a few minutes (and Purple annoyingly letting Mango bug-spray them), the two were sitting on either side of the picnic table, munching away, chatting, and even laughing a little every once in a while. Both smiling and laughing.
They were out there long after the sun had set, even having a tree climbing race on the old oak tree in Mango’s backyard.
Purple had won, of course.
They went rolling in the grass, they playfully sparred, they hung out.
They acted more like best friends than roommates. Or whatever their friendship had turned into.
Purple was going to pretend that Mango bandaging up the scrape on their knee from the tree bark was a very normal friend thing to do and not parental at all (they couldn’t afford another loss).
That night, they curled up on Mango’s old, somewhat torn up couch, wearing large t-shirts and sweatpants, an old Disney movie on the TV, a large popcorn bowl in between them on the cushions.
And when Purple started to doze, Mango supported them to their room, where they curled up under comfortable quilts, head shoved against a cool pillow, and slept the night away.
—
That was, until Purple awoke at 2 in the morning.
Shooting up with a startled gasp, they took a moment, breathing in and out, hands trembling a little- no, a lot.
They closed their eyes, hugging themselves, taking in and out breaths.
They tried to review what they’d seen, remembering certain sights and sounds.
Something reminiscent of Minecraft’s Overworld, the sun in the sky and trees all around, grass and the entrance to a mountain trail, the occasional sheep or cow in the distance.
And then a stick, standing in the middle of the open field.
Purple, who’d been on the treeline, had gazed at them, curious.
They’d turned, face blocked by some black square, and had perked up on spotting them. Golden-blonde hair, wearing baggy jeans and a large yellow sweater with sunflower patterns up one sleeve.
And then the world had blacked out, something hurriedly spreading across the ground, and Purple looked at them, shocked when they had been in their face. Freezing, they stared at the black square staring at them.
The sudden searing pain up their back gave them a startle.
This wasn’t a dream.
And Purple had heard one word.
“ Help. ”
—
The next morning, Purple sat at the dining table, thinking more than eating, chewing on their tongue more than their toast.
And Mango noticed pretty fast.
“You good, Purps? You’re going bite your tongue off before you finish that.” He pointed out. Purple blinked, looking over at him.
“Yeah, just- weird dream I had last night, s’all.” Purple replied, picking up their toast finally and taking a bite.
“You wanna talk ‘bout it?”
“Sure, why not.”
Mango sat up a little, and Purple sighed.
“I know like, Minecraft in certain context is kinda sensitive for you-”
“Yeah?”
“Well, I think my brain was telling me something.” Purple began, nibbling at their toast. “I saw this kid. Large sweater, blonde I think, couldn’t see their face. They like- ran up to me, and everything started getting covered in this black, pixel-y stuff. I don’t really remember what they said-” A lie, how great of you Purple. “-but I know they said something before I woke up.”
Mango had stopped midway through the explanation, staring a little.
“Y-you said blonde, right?” He asked after a minute.
“Yeah? Blonde, large sweater, had a ton of sunflower patterns up the side I think.” Purple replied, biting into their toast, gaze shifting to Mango.
The man was staring at his plate, face neutral, having gone quiet.
“That- that very closely matches the description of…”
“Oh…”
Purple took a moment, before setting their toast down, standing to make their way around the table, and drag the taller into a comforting hug. Mango barely responded, only moving his head a little to rest against Purple’s shoulder.
The two kind of just sat there for a bit, quiet comfort for each other.
“There- there was something else, kinda weird actually.”
“Yeah?” Mango asked, sitting up.
“I felt pain.”
“In a dream?”
“Yeah… is that like, weird?”
“Very much so.” Mango mumbled, thinking. “What did they say again?”
“I think it was like- ‘help’ or something.” Purple answered. Lying was awful if Mango was distraught.
“Shit… they might be-”
“Mango. Last time we went down this path, we both ended up in a Void.” Purple cut in, assertive. They were not doing another Minecraft-Void run.
“But Purple-!”
“ No. ” Purple said again, eyes narrowed. Firm.
Mango stopped, turning back to his plate, taking a small bite.
And then Purple paused, taking another glance at the taller, who was holding back tears.
They took a moment, thinking.
And then, they made the stupidest choice they could have made.
‘ I’m gonna get his kid back. ’
—