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It was far colder than it should’ve been in the snow castle. And while Bdubs knew that the sentence was contradictory, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was right. It was colder than it should’ve been, and something was very, very wrong.
The wind gusted through the modest house, chilled by the frosty walls outside and carrying a promise of danger. Bdubs shivered, his shabby cloak of foliage did little to block the chill. He drew it tighter around himself, and continued to gaze out the window. The wan moonlight caught the packed snow of the walls, glittering like a thousand little stars. But despite the pretty sight, Bdubs could not relax.
Etho was missing. It wasn’t rare for the man to disappear for a day or two. He had even been in the Nether for almost three days straight and Bdubs hadn’t worried. Well, hadn’t worried too much. But tonight Etho’s absence felt different. Less like the norm and more like a warning. An omen. Things may be as they always are, but even routine can carry a threat under the right circumstances.
“Something’s wrong,” Bdubs murmured to himself. The torches decorating the ground flickered with the wind, their flames nodding in agreement. He peered through the window, looking for any sign of Reds. He found nothing. No brief flash of crimson-tinted eyes, no swirling glow from enchanted armor. Only the soft sucking noise of the soul sand and the ever-present gust of the wind.
Unable to quell his unease, Bdubs abandoned his post at the window and slipped through the front door. Boots clacking against the cobblestone, he made his way down the stairs. He kept an eye out for any sort of movement. His skin still prickled, all of his senses telling him that something was going to happen any moment now. But despite his body’s insistence, Bdubs stepped onto the soul sand path with no issue. Instead of pulling him down, the sand was repelled by his enchanted boots, and he walked across it effortlessly.
Outside of the-albeit flimsy-walls of the house, the cold was even more persistent. It sunk into Bdubs’ skin, coiling around his bones. It whispered softly to him, brushing frosty fingers against his skin. A shiver ran through him once more.
The boogey-man still hadn’t revealed themself, Bdubs realized with a start. Had Etho fallen prey to a Yellow or Green before they’d been cured? His nerves ramped up even further and hackles raised, Bdubs pulled his axe from his inventory and gripped it tightly as he continued to scout the perimeter of their fortress.
The tell-tale sound of a boot hitting soul sand made Bdubs freeze. He whipped around, his axe raising instinctively. He faltered slightly when no immediate danger presented itself behind him, but it was impossible to shake the feeling of being watched.
“Hello?” Bdubs called out warily. Perhaps a stupid thing to say to a presence that was most likely malicious, but he couldn’t think of anything else. “Grian? Joel?” The Reds were the most likely intruders if the goosebumps on Bdubs arms had anything to say about it.
Silence met him, the utter quiet hanging in the air. But another foot-step reached Bdubs’ ears before he could relax. This time, a soft groan followed it. The noise wasn’t the absent mumbling of a zombie, but instead sounded rather like someone in pain. Bdubs’ eyes widened. Etho.
Tucking his axe away for a moment, Bdubs ran towards the groan. His cloak flapped behind him, the wind determined to rip it off. Clutching the leaves tied around his throat tighter, Bdubs scanned the inner area of the walls for the shock of white hair that always betrayed Etho. White-hot panic thrummed through Bdubs’ veins as his breaths came faster and faster, desperately searching for his friend.
Finally, after Bdubs’ had been searching for long enough that the endurance on his boots nearly broke, he found him. He was collapsed beneath a berry bush, the thorns providing a temporary shield that made it infuriatingly difficult to get to him. Dirt was matted into his hair and his clothes were tattered, but he was alive.
Nearly sobbing with relief, Bdubs dragged him free of the bush. With his final tug, he lost his balance and tumbled into the dirt next to Etho. Up close, Etho looked even worse. His eye-lids were closed, but his eyes were moving frantically underneath, almost as if he was asleep. His fluffy white ears looked limp and gray, pushed flat against the sides of his head as if in fear. But besides that and the sweat on his face, there were almost no other signs of life. For a moment it looked as if Etho wasn’t even breathing. But when Bdubs pressed his ear to his chest he could feel a slow, almost imperceptible rise and fall.
Etho’s face was pallid, his normally fair complexion had turned a sickly shade of white. Heaving himself to his feet, Bdubs did his best to quash his panic and focus. Etho needed his help, and the adrenaline coursing through him at the moment was only making him clumsy.
Taking a deep breath, Bdubs hooked his hands underneath Etho’s arms and pulled him slowly backwards, towards the house. First things first, he had to get Etho inside. Inside there was first aid, and more importantly, it was warm. Out here dressed in a thin t-shirt and vest, Etho wouldn’t last very long. Right. Get him inside, figure out what’s wrong, save the day, Bdubs thought to himself. Just three steps, I can do that.
That’s when he noticed the blood. It was slowly seeping through Etho’s green vest, dark and viscous and way too real. Bdubs hadn’t noticed it because Etho’s hand had been clutched around his lower abdomen, effectively hiding the wound.
Swearing under his breath, his movements becoming more frantic, Bdubs continued to drag Etho. It was hard enough to move the heavier and taller man on his own, but with the additional challenge of the soul sand determined to drag Etho’s body down, it was almost impossible to move him.
Bdubs’ boots dug forcefully into the sand as Etho moved inch by inch. Etho’s tail dragged in the sand, the white fur now stained a dirty red. Bdubs couldn’t tell how much of it was blood. It took Bdubs nearly collapsing himself before he accepted this wasn’t working. But he didn’t exactly have time to reconsider with Etho’s life slowly flowing out of him.
Bending down, Bdubs slung Etho’s arm over his shoulder and dragged him to stand.
“Just a little farther,” Bdubs grunted. He wasn’t sure whether he was talking to himself or Etho. With the way the words fell flat, dropping from his lips and disappearing, he figured it didn’t really matter.
Etho was cold next to him. The skin that Bdubs could feel was clammy. His heart dropped further.
It felt like hours before they reached the meager protection of the cabin. Etho’s blood left a dark trail over the ground leading towards the house, but Bdubs couldn’t exactly do anything about it at the moment. Bdubs made the final push to get Etho through the door, and promptly fell next to him. But his job wasn’t done yet.
Quickly, Bdubs stripped Etho of his vest and T-shirt. Bdubs swallowed thickly at what he found underneath. A thick line sliced across the side of Etho’s stomach, steadily pumping blood. Even in the time it took to reach the house, the blood hadn’t slowed. In fact, from the way it was currently leaking across Etho’s skin, it looked like it had quickened its rate of departure from Etho’s body.
Tenderly, Bdubs pressed against the sides of the wound, trying to determine how deep it was. He was no medic, but he knew basic first aid. And anyone could tell that the wound would need to be stitched up for Etho to have any hope of survival. Etho groaned in pain as Bdubs examined the cut, but the sound was weak. At least he’s still alive, Bdubs thought grimly.
Abandoning Etho on the floor for a moment before thinking better of it, Bdubs helped him into one of their beds and wrapped blankets around his shoulders before going off in search of string and a needle. He cursed under his breath as he rummaged through chest after chest, finding a million items except the ones he wanted. He found the needle by pricking his finger on it, and found the string soon after.
Nervous, he returned to Etho. Bdubs’ hands hovered over his still body for a moment, hesitating. It was more likely that he made things worse instead of better, but he had to try. For once it was Etho relying on him, and Bdubs wasn’t about to let him down.
Gently, Bdubs cleaned off as much blood as he could with a stray piece of cloth. The blood flow had started to ebb, and Bdubs couldn’t decide whether that was a good thing. Etho’s skin was slightly warmer, the sheets that were wrapped around his shoulders helping him conserve body heat. But his skin remained a sickly color and when Bdubs felt his pulse it was far too slow. I’m taking too long. It’s now or never.
The needle slipped through Etho’s skin surprisingly easily. The sight made Bdubs sick, and he remembered too late that he was supposed to sanitize the needle. Pushing the future problem aside, he focused on guiding the bloodied needle through the two flaps of flesh, knitting them together. Sweat trickled down his temples, and he wiped it away without thinking.
The finished product was messy, uneven stitches pulled the skin too tight or let it hang loose in places. But it would work for now. It had too.
Washing the needle and his hands, Bdubs sagged to the floor next to Etho’s bed. Grasping one of his friend’s hands, he held it tenderly. He ran his thumb over the knuckles, his touch gentle, as if afraid Etho would crumble from the slightest touch. He bowed his head over Etho’s hand, feelings hitting him all at once. His best friend might be dead. And there was nothing he could do about it.
Tears came when Bdubs was least expecting them. The salty droplets rolled down his cheeks, splattering gently across Etho’s knuckles. He didn’t bother to wipe them away, just let the sobs tear themselves out of his chest as he cried over a man who wasn’t even dead yet.
It felt like he cried for years, all of the fear and stress and nerves pouring out of him in the form of tears. (And a little bit of snot too, if he was being honest). When the tears dried up and his face was left tacky and red, Bdubs didn’t even feel better. How could he? The one time Etho had needed him, had needed his protection, and Bdubs hadn’t been there. He had spent the day tending to their little castle, ignoring the feeling of unease that crept up on him in the quiet, and Etho paid the price for it.
Wiping his face roughly, Bdubs stood. He wrapped his leafy cloak around Etho, ignoring the way the chill stabbed into his skin without the added protection. Throwing aside his armor, Bdubs crossed the room and laid in his own bed. It only took a few seconds of staring at the ceiling for Bdubs to get up and retrace his steps back to Etho. It didn’t feel right to just leave him there. Besides, Bdubs couldn’t exactly keep track of Etho’s condition if he was across the room.
Bdubs only hesitated for a moment before slipping onto the bed next to Etho. Etho’s ears flicked slightly, but to Bdubs’ disappointment, he did not stir. Bdubs sat on the edge of the bed, near Etho’s head. He rested a gentle hand on his forehead, trying to assess Etho’s temperature. Unable to summon a useful conclusion, Bdubs’ fingers instead drifted to Etho’s hair, which was currently spread messily across his pillow. He stroked it gently, melting snow and coarse strands presenting an odd, but not altogether unpleasant sensation beneath his fingers. The motion became soothing, a repetitive way to distract himself from the way Etho’s chest rose and fell a little too fast.
The man’s skin was still tinged a persistent blue, and his fingers looked a worrying shade of purple. Sitting up in the bed next to Etho, he clasped Etho’s hands in his. Rubbing them together in an attempt to warm him up, Bdubs wracked his brains for anything more he could do to help.
“I’m sorry, Etho. Just hang on ‘til morning.” Morning would bring warmth and hope, and would increase Etho’s odds of recovering. Which he would. He had to. Bdubs didn’t know what he would do without him. Etho was the reason most of the other groups were afraid to attack him, after all. Losing Etho would mean losing his get-out-of-death-free card. Bdubs was already yellow, he couldn’t afford losing his next life and the protection of the snow fort.
Etho, predictably, didn’t respond. But he curled ever-so-slightly into Bdubs’ warmth. Despite himself, Bdubs shifted a little bit closer. If the pounds of blankets weren’t enough, Bdubs would offer his own body heat. Whatever it took.
Etho shifted in his sleep, letting out a small noise of pain. Bdubs was too tired to question if it was a bad thing that Etho hadn’t woken up by now. He wasn’t sure when the sudden wave of exhaustion had washed over him, but suddenly all Bdubs could think about was the heaviness in his limbs and the way his eye-lids insisted on drooping.
Maybe it had started when Bdubs had spent what felt like hours dragging Etho around, or when he spent the day mining. It didn’t especially matter, not now when the only thing on Bdubs’ mind was sleep.
But even though everything in his body pleaded with him to rest, he couldn’t. Not yet. Not while his brain still hummed with worry for Etho. His neurons were being strummed like guitar strings, orchestrating a melody of anxiety that played through Bdubs’ head. Attempting to squash the small song only seemed to make it worse.
“Do me a favor and wake up soon, Etho,” Bdubs murmured. “My own wellbeing depends on it.”
Etho didn’t answer. He just continued to slumber.
Sighing, Bdubs idly contemplated if he should return to his own bed. Despite his nerves, Etho was seemingly doing better. The pressing crush of adrenaline had long since lessened, and the panic was now just a dull ache in the back of his mind.
In the end, Etho made the decision for him. He nestled his head into Bdubs’ side, firmly anchoring him in place. Bdubs stiffened, but his surprise soon melted from the surge of warmth in his chest. Sighing, he adjusted his position in the bed, curling around Etho in turn. He tucked Etho’s head under his chin and bundled his body closer. Bdubs massaged soothing circles in Etho’s back, and drifted off to tired thoughts of a hopeful morning.
When Bdubs awoke, he was alone in the bed. He sat up, rubbing his eyes blearily. Yawning, he slowly dragged himself to a sitting position. He paused, giving another glance to the empty room. Wait a minute…
“Etho?!” Bdubs shouted, his eyes widening as all traces of sleepiness disappeared. He threw himself out of bed quickly. “Etho!” He shouted again. Glancing around wildly revealed no traces of blood or a struggle. But that didn’t mean Etho wasn’t in danger. He dashed into the living area, never stopping until something made him pause. The warm, sizzling smell of ham and eggs permeated the air. “Etho?”
Etho turned, eyes crinkling in a smile that Bdubs was sure bright under his mask. “Bdubs! I’m making breakfast!”
Bdubs cocked his head, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, I see that.” He was still trying to calm his racing heartbeat, which still hadn’t gotten the memo that they were no longer panicking. Still worried, he scanned Etho’s body, searching for any leftover trace of injury. He had his green vest and black undershirt back on, and if Bdubs didn’t know better, he would say Etho had never been injured at all. But Bdubs’ scrutinizing eye revealed a tightness in Etho’s posture and a strain around his eyes that wasn’t there normally.
“Eggs and ham are fine, right?” Etho continued, turning back around to flip a sizzling slice of ham.
Bdubs shrugged, “Works for me.” He hesitated, and after a moment, “Are you doing alright?”
“Yeah, of course.” Etho kept his back to Bdubs. His confusion grew. Was Etho trying to pretend nothing was happening? If so, why? It wasn’t like Etho was gaining anything from acting as if there wasn’t a horrifying gash in his stomach. Hell, Bdubs had just stitched it up himself!
“I meant, are you doing alright with the giant cut across your stomach?” Bdubs amended bluntly. No point beating around the bush.
“Oh. Fine.”
Bdubs sighed, “Go back to bed, Etho.” He made his way further into the kitchen to stand next to Etho, who was still cooking eggs with a fierce determination. Bdubs gently pried the spatula from Etho’s grip. “You still need to recover. What are you doing, man!?”
“It wasn’t that big a deal-“
“I had to drag your unconscious body out from under a bush! You were bleeding out in my arms!” Bdubs snapped. He set the spatula down roughly, only for guilt to immediately flood through him as Etho flinched at the loud clatter. Bdubs’ loud voice cut off and heavy silence filled the room. Etho refused to meet his eyes. Bdubs tentatively reached out, but his hand barely brushed Etho’s before he snatched it away. He tried not to feel hurt.
Etho didn’t want to talk about it? Fine. But Bdubs wasn’t about to give up.
Etho was staring at the eggs. Without his spatula, they were now burning. “Can I have-“ He was interrupted by Bdubs slapping him in the face.
“What’s wrong with you!” Bdubs yelled. “Why are you just pretending like everything’s okay? You nearly died! I nearly had to watch you die!” He was getting too angry now. And with the anger came guilt, but he was in too far now. “And now it’s like everything’s fine? What would I have done if you turned red? What would you have done if you turned red?!”
His breaths were heaving in his chest now and Etho still wasn’t saying anything. The skin on his cheek above his mask was reddening and his eyes were wide. “Bdubs…”
Tears sprang into Bdubs’ eyes once more. He wiped them away angrily. Things weren’t exactly going according to plan. “Just… don’t leave me here on my own.”
Before Bdubs could regret his words, he was crushed in a hug. Etho was wrapping his arms around him tightly, squeezing him as if lessening the pressure would mean losing Bdubs entirely. Etho buried his face in Bdubs’s shoulder, and his hair tickled his face as Bdubs slowly brought his arms around Etho as well. Bdubs relaxed into the embrace, hugging Etho tighter in response as his shoulders began to shake. Inhaling deeply, Bdubs was greeted with the sharp smell of snow and the lingering scent of blood. But Bdubs elected to ignore the frightening smell in favor of bundling Etho as close to him as possible.
Bdubs had no idea how long they stood like that, holding each other tightly as the smell of burning eggs got stronger and smoke started to fill the room. Without thinking, Bdubs shifted his hands to cup Etho’s face, tilting his head upwards so that he could press a kiss to his forehead.
“I’m sorry,” Etho whispered.
Bdubs just wiped away his tears in response.