Poth Short Stories and One-Shots

Cold Reception: Chapter 2

Palette was woken from his sleep by a distant noise; was it 6 already? It really didn't feel like he had slept very long. His meeting time with Goth was still a little ways off, maybe he could sneak in another hour or two of sleep...

Reaching over to the nightstand for his phone, he was a bit miffed when his fingers only met paper and books instead of the noisy contraption. Begrudgingly, he opened his eyes... only to realize it wasn't his alarm making the noise, but a call.

Pulling the phone towards him and glancing at the time revealed it was barely past 2 am; who in the world would be calling now?

His eyes widened a bit when Geno's name lit up the notification area on the screen. Swiping his thumb to answer the call, Palette held the phone to the side of his skull. "Hello?" he mumbled, still partially asleep.

"Is Goth there?!" Geno's panicked voice shouted over the phone; any remaining thoughts of sleep flew out of Palette's mind.

"N-no, he left a few hours ago... he should be home by now," the young skeleton replied, a pit forming in his non-existent stomach.

Geno was quickly devolving into hysterics on the other end, "He's not! He never came home and he's not answering his phone! Where's my baby?!"

The information seeped into Palette; Goth never made it home? Doing the mental math, his house was maybe an hour's walk from their house... not even that if the skeleton bypassed the park. He had last messaged them around 9:30 last night, and it was just past 2... which meant no one had seen or heard from them in over four hours.

Palette vaguely heard another voice in the background comforting the distraught mother, telling him they would find their son and to stay put in case he came back. A door could be heard opening and closing, then only sobbing remained; Reaper must have gone to look for Goth.

Behind him, Palette's door opened and his mom stood in the doorway. "Palette? What's all the noise about?" the parent mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes; Palette ignored him, more focused on rummaging through the closet.

"I'll help look for him, too," Palette said into the phone pressed between his shoulder and skull as he reached for his boots.

"P-please... let m-me know if you find anything... please find him," Geno pleaded, fear plain in his voice; it made the pit grow deeper hearing him begging for his son's safety.

"Of course! Send Mister Reaper's number over so I can call him too if I find anything," Palette added as he donned his jacket, scarf, and hat. At this point, Dream had more or less figured out what was going on and darted to his own room to get dressed.

After giving a goodbye, more reassurances, and receiving a text containing Reaper's number, Palette hung up, snagged a flashlight, and raced out the door closely followed by Dream. Snow was falling at a steady pace now, dancing in the freezing winds. After agreeing on where they would begin their searches, he raced off towards the park with his phone and flashlight clutched tightly in his hands as he ran.

The park's East entrance was right by Goth's house. While the walk through the park usually took longer, he knew the skeleton frequently used that route because of the pleasant atmosphere; hopefully, that still held true.

Fumbling with the phone as he ran, Palette pulled up Goth's contact number and called, hoping to get a response. "Come on... please pick up, Goth," the skeleton pleaded softly. His soul sank as the phone went over to voicemail; not giving up, he hung up and tried again. And again. And again.

Why wasn't Goth answering his phone? What if-

Shaking the morbid thought out of his skull, Palette hit redial once more.

As the West entrance to the park came into view a block away, a click followed by shaky breathing was heard instead of the voicemail tone. "Goth, thank the stars you finally picked up! Where are you?" Palette cheered into the receiver. His happiness was short-lived when only a shaky exhale replied, "... Goth?"

Only breathing and the roar of the wind could be heard.

"P... Pa... let-te," Goth's voice ghosted through the phone, as if he barely there. Palette stopped running so he could hear his friend's words; the wind in the background made it too difficult otherwise. "I... h... idunno... fell... 'sc-cold... hurs... can'see... s'blurry...," the smaller skeleton seemed to be gasping out each bit, his words slurring together.

"Goth, you're not making any sense; where are you?" Palette annunciated carefully, not liking how disconnected and tired Goth sounded. Cold? Hurt? Can't see? What was happening? Palette subconsciously gripped his phone tighter.

A soft groan came through the other end, "Th-the park..." A pause, "I... w-waswalkng... p-pas'atree... n'slipped... now... headhurs... cold... n'tired..." There was a whimper and a sniff, followed by a shuddering breath. "... m'scared... I... don'wanna... b-bealone... please... h-helpme...," a quiet sob leaked out, sending a lance of pain through Palette's soul.

He started running again, kicking up snow while closing the distance to the park; where Goth was, and where Palette needed to be.

"It'll be okay, Goth! I'm at the West park entrance now!" Palette assured them as he rounded the gate leading into the park. Shaky breaths could barely be heard over the howl of the wind. "Mister Reaper's looking too! I promise you'll be okay," he continued, injecting as much positivity as possible into his voice as he passed a snow-covered bench, "and I won't leave you alone! Never! You're too important to me!"

Palette blushed when he realized what he'd said, but he refused to take it back; it was true. The thought had been in the back of his mind for years now, but Goth was the one monster that always stuck by him through thick and thin and their presence in his life meant the world to him.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when he realized the silence had dragged on too long. "Goth?" he called out. More silence. Pulling his phone away from his skull, his soul stuttered when he realized the call had disconnected and he was kicked out to the main screen; the time read almost 3 AM. A quick redial sent his call straight to voicemail.

Palette gritted his teeth and dialed Reaper as he sped past a fountain; the place they had planned on meeting seven hours from now. It didn't look like their meeting would be happening today... and he had a sinking feeling if he didn't find Goth soon, it may never come.

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Word Count: 1,125