It's time for the pairing that makes readers yell at the screen telling them to just kiss already. This is a collection of short stories and one-shots centered around the daily life and adventures of Goth and Palette, otherwise known as the Poth shi...
"Palette? Palette... come on, I... I didn't mean it like that... say something!" Goth stammered, his soul hammering furiously in his chest as seconds ticked by in silence, "no... NO!" Magic engulfed him as he poured everything he had into the unconscious skeleton. A cracking noise resounded from within Goth's rib cage, but he persisted.
He couldn't let them die! Palette... he was everything to Goth! He... couldn't......
Tears fell and the sound of a siren could be heard in the distance as Goth crumpled next to Palette's left shoulder, his soul crumbling.
---
Palette groaned as he sat up slowly.
Where was he? Everything looked dark and shadowed; he could barely see his own hand. How did he get there? The last thing he remembered... the fight! The grizzly bear monster!
Stumbling to his feet, Palette called out to the void, "Goth? Hey, if you're there, answer me!" He staggering one way, then changed direction; where did he even begin?! Everything looked the same!
A noise behind him had the skeleton swiveling around to a sight that made his marrow run cold. Goth was standing there; standing before the imposing monster, arms spread wide and his soul in plain view. "No! Run!" Palette shouted, scrambling toward the two, but it didn't feel like he was making any progress; why wasn't he getting closer?!
"I... I can't," Goth glanced over his shoulder; his voice was trembling as he met Palette's eye lights with a frightened, but nonetheless determined, expression, "I won't let you-" He never got to finish his sentence as the bear's knife ripped through the small skeleton and the inverted heart before him with a swift and powerful strike, sending shreds of white cloth and red marrow flying.
"GOTH!" Palette screamed, urging himself forward as his friend's body collapsed in on itself. "No...," he whimpered as the smaller's body began to crumble to dust; their soul gave one final beat as it shattered into millions of pieces "NO!"
Lights flared around Palette and he shot up, soul racing and breathing heavily. Frantically, he took in the entirely new surroundings: a pale orange hospital room.
Was he... was all of that a dream? No... no, it was definitely a nightmare...
"Goodness me, I heard a shout; is everything alright?" A middle-aged, greying human woman was peeking into the room. "Oh dear!" she exclaimed, bustling over, "your monitor is going wild; did something happen?" Following her gaze, he noticed a machine blipping excitedly; the tones matched his own soul's frantic rhythm.
"I... just had a bad dream, I think," he replied, receiving a relieved smile from the woman; he couldn't help but match it. The calm moment gave way to worry once Palette's thoughts returned to his nightmare, "Goth? Have you seen Goth?"
His soul tingled.
The woman looked stricken by the question, her gaze falling to the floor as her eyebrows furrowed. "This Goth... he was your friend?"
"Yeah, my best friend; we were hanging out today!" Palette chirped.
His soul felt warm.
"Did he have a red scarf?" the woman added, her expression darkening.
"Yeah... do you know where he went?" he asked, feeling pressure against his ribs.
"Oh dearie... I'm so sorry...," she sniffled, turning to a chair; one that held a tattered scarf and a white jacket flecked in gray dust.
The pressure increased.
"The officer on the scene claimed he used up his magic trying to heal you. He must not have been very skilled at healing since the amount of magic he spent barely managed to close your wound...," She paused, thinking aloud, "but it might have been enough to keep you going until you reached the hospital."
Palette stared at the chair and its contents as burning tears began to sting his sockets. Goth... was dead? ... As in... never coming back? Goth died to save him?
A whisper danced in Palette's skull, 'No...'
The woman pulled him into a hug, "He must have cared greatly for you... he was a good monster."
She was crying; Palette reciprocated the hug, tears falling down his cheeks as he let out a sob, "He was th-the best friend a monster c-could ever ask for!"
The pressure surrounded him.
---
Palette knelt by a grave surrounded by flowers in a cemetery; Goth's funeral had ended a half-hour ago, having been held a week after his death. Everyone was on their way to the reception at his house; it would only be a small get-together since not many people came for the wake or the funeral. He guessed Goth didn't have many friends; no matter, his friend never liked big crowds, which was the main reason he was alone at the burial site... well, almost.
Tear tracks streamed down Palette's face as he rearranged the flowers surrounding Goth's headstone. "It looks nice," he murmured, his chin brushing against the red scarf draped around his neck; Reaper and Geno had agreed that he should have it, and he wore it proudly every day. "Mister Reaper really knows how to pick out flowers... heh, guess that makes sense given his job," the skeleton chuckled sadly.
His soul warmed.
He placed a hand on his chest, closing his sockets to concentrate on the warmth, "It's okay... after all, you're right here with me."
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The wind blew as an invisible pressure enveloped his ribs, surrounding him with a faint whisper, 'You are never alone.'
