MCYT Oneshots

c!jschlatt - I'm here

Y/N - Your Name

(TW! This chapter uses the storyline that the reader has lost her best friend)

READER PRONOUNS: SHE/HER

You sit, eyes glazed over and empty as you sit by the body of your beloved best friend.

You had a wound in your stomach, but you didn't care. Grief had overtaken you.

You knew it wasn't your fault, that they were reckless and didn't listen to you, but you couldn't help but feel that you could've done something. Anything.

You break down into tears, lungs needing air but the emotion to strong to stop the floods of tears running down your face.

"Hey, you ok?" Comes a voice from in front of you, even through your blurry vision, you could easily recognise the curled horns and the mutton chops.

Schlatt.

"Leave me alone. I'm ok." You tell him, glaring up at his concerned face.

"That's a lot of blood, you sure you're ok?" He presses further and you take a glance down at the blood soaked hand pressed to your wound and look back up to him.

"It'll be fine. It doesn't matter anyway." You say and he crouches down in front of you, peering at you.

"Why doesn't it matter?" He asks and your eyes well up with tears yet again.

"Cause they're gone. The only person in the world that gave a shit. It doesn't matter because no one cares about me!" You scream, your anger and guilt bubbling to the surface.

"Hey, just look at me. Breathe. It does matter, ok? I'm gonna get you out of here." He says and you scoff.

"Why should I listen to you?" You ask, eyes boring into Schlatt's brown ones.

"Because I care, Y/N! Now let me help you." He asserts, reaching over to you to help you up, but you move away from him, glaring defiantly at the man that was once your friend.

"Don't touch me!" You yell, but Schlatt carries on, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you up so you're standing. You thrash and pull against his grip but he doesn't give up.

"Stop. Don't do that, you'll hurt yourself even more." He snaps, walking you away from the scene of your loss.

Later...

Schlatt sets you down on a bed, then turns and grabs medical supplies from a chest.

He sets to work on disinfecting the gash in your stomach and you hiss in pain.

"I know, it's ok. Just hold my hand, you're gonna be fine." Schlatt soothes, turning his free hand over and presenting it to you.

You grab his hand, squeezing it whenever the pain fires up again. Schlatt, in return, runs his thumb over your knuckles.

He finishes quickly, bandaging your stomach and making sure you're comfortable.

"Thank you." You whisper and he turns his head to look at you with an amused smile.

"Don't sweat it, I've got your back." He replies simply, smiling and shrugging like it's nothing.

"Why, though? I've been an ass for you for so long. I cut off our friendship." You press further and his smile drops into a look of genuine emotion.

"I made a promise. I said I'd always be there for you. I'm a man of my word." He grinned, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

"I don't know what I could ever do to thank you properly." You mutter, and he pauses for a second, thinking.

"Friends again?" He offers.

You smile, "friends again."