Retired and Can't Get a Break

Alone

It was a quiet day in L'Manberg, the war was over, Schlatt was dead, or was he?

Schlatt woke up in the rubble, he kept coughing, he was thankfully not pinned by any of the planks around him. His chest hurt, all he remembered before passing out was toast.

"What the hell-" He sharply looked around, he was alone, as always. He started rummaging through the rubble, looking for his booze. He even looked under the floor boards where he hide them. That was gone too. He frowned. "Who the fuck would steal my shit?" he pondered for a second, then the adrenaline wore off and the pain kicked him in the gut. Almost quite literally. He grabbed at his stomach and chest, the pain was excruciating that he felt his legs start to wobble. He grabbed onto one of the remaining shelves for support. He groaned in pain once more. "I should have been fucking killed, he said I would be killed. What did he gain from lying like that." Schlatt yelled in frustration, he needed a beer, maybe even a water if that seemed fit. He stood their against the shelf for a good five minutes before deciding that if he wasn't dead already, he sure didn't want to die by the hands of some other bastard.

Schlatt started to sneak off of L'Manbergs property, thank god no one was around, even if it was midday no one was out. Once he deemed that the coast was perfectly clear, he made a run for it, or well as fast as he could go with the injuries he has. He ran to the tree line and went behind the closest tree to catch his breath. He didn't look back, Jschlatt will never look back again. Manberg was failed from the start, a joke campaign lead to a fucking war for christs sake. He's not going to pick a fight he can't win. once his breath was caught he started to stroll through the woods, getting raw materials and such to make himself a home. Home was never something Schlatt was familiar with, never had one, never got the chance to find one. Might as well give it a chance now that he basically faked his own death unintentionally and would be shot on sight if seen.

He ventured deeper and deeper into the wood, trying to get as far as he possibly could from civilization. The farther he went the more the sun hid, and the air became more and more cold around him, he felt something land on one of his horns. He looked up, it was starting to snow. He hated the snow. He continued to walk anyways, he can't complain about this stuff if he was on the run. He still needed to find a good clearing so he could craft tools and finally start to build. It was times like this where he wished he had left sooner, on different circumstances of course. Schlatt doesn't like to abide by others rules. Which is why he started making his own, whether it be a 'corrupt' country or his own business. The crunch below his boots were starting to make his teeth grind together. He was tired, he was out for hell knows how long, his wounds were probably infected at this point, it wasn't a good day for J. Schlatt.

If something pops out at him, he will most likely faint on spot. He had been walking with the occasional jog for hours. He was wondering when his misfortune would cease to exist. Not today was the correct answer. Night began to fall, Schlatt cursed under his breath, he had no food, armor, or anything to defend himself with besides his two fists. He began to sprint again hoping that he would be able to find shelter somewhere. He would take anything at this point, even living in the arctic sounded good to him in this moment. Schlatt was full on sprinting at this point, he had no where to go and had no clue where he was. The snow began to sting his cheeks and he heard the groans of zombies get closer and closer to his position. He ran, as fast as he could in his state, but he wasn't fast enough. Schlatt tripped over a root on the forest floor and yelled in surprise as he hid the ground, he didn't care if someone found him at this point. The one thing on his mind was that he didn't want to die of a zombie of all things.

The zombie took its rotten bone clad hand and scratched at Jschlatt, over, and over, and over again. If he wasn't already in pain, he sure as hell was in some now. Suddenly the frantic scratching stopped and Schlatt saw a blurred image of a tall pink figure over him. The figure picked him up as Schlatt drifted into a dream less slumber.

Schlatt felt warm, his body was surrounded with a soft material, he had no idea where he was or if he was dead or not. He knew he was safe. He tried to open his eyes but they were sealed shut with sleep. His brows furrowed in frustration, the commands he was giving his body, were in vain. His body refused to move. He started to regain his senses and felt something cold and damp on his forehead. His body began to dully ache once again, memories of a pink stranger saving him from a zombie flood back into his head.

He shot up, his eyes awoken. The ram groaned, he moved too fast. He was now sitting straight up on a bed. He ran his pale fingers across the blue quilt that was draped over him, he took a moment and looked at his now skinny, boney, fingers. He was once a strong leader, what happened to him. His self loathing was soon interrupted by a creaking of a door, Schlatt snapped his gaze to the noice and found him staring at the intruder, "Techno?" Silence filled the room, Schlatt still in a exhausted haze. Techno just started blankly and nodded, both hybrids stared at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time, non dared to make a move.

"Uh, I need to fix your bandages." Technoblades face was blank, but his body language confirmed that he was nervous, almost apprehensive to ask. Schlatt just continued to stare, he was confused.

"Bandages?" He lifted the quilt from his body and soon notice that his bloody dress shirt was long forgotten and he was shirtless, the cold air hitting his bare chest made him shiver. As Techno had said, there were bandages across his chest and stomach.

"Yeah, didn't want the wounds to get more infected then they already are." The anarchists eyes drifted to the side then to the ram, "So can I fix them or not?" Schlatt was suspicious, just a while ago, he had no idea how long he was out for, did the man in front of him want to kill him. Now he wants to help him. It took him a moment to process, but he nodded anyways, confusion still written on his face. Techno approached the bed, a bit more confidently with the roll of bandages in hand.

Techno sat on the stool next to the bed and motioned Schlatt to lay back down. In which he did so, techno places the bandages on the bed side table and removed the quilt from the other mans chest. Tehcnos hands were warm, he carefully ghosted his fingers over the wounds slightly applying pressure as he goes around it, Schlatt winced. Techno apologized for putting pressure on the tender skin, the piglin hybrid soon made the ram sit up once again. He began removing the now off white bandages and checking the wound more thoroughly. The smaller man started to fell awkward with the other man looking at his bare chest with an intense stare, not to mention the tender touches. Schlatt could fell the heat rise to his cheeks as Techno started to bandage him up once again.

With the tension in the air slowly dissolving Techno spoke once again, "You should get more rest, you can clean up and eat in the afternoon. I'll go get you some water." Schlatt nodded and laid back down, pulling the quilt over his chest and closing his eyes, once again falling into a dreamless slumber.