Hiding In The Blue

part 1 | trespasser.

Purple was distraught.

He was walking home in defeat, surrounded by pressing silence; the only comfort he found was in the soft, muffled noises of his footfalls, and the thought of seeing his Animator again after so long apart.

Still, he couldn't stop replaying the time he'd spent away in his mind.

He couldn't stop thinking.

About Mango.

And about... someone else, even if he didn't want to admit it to himself. He pushed that thought aside.

It was still clear in his head, the way his cruel laugh would ring in his ears hours after it was over, the suffocating heat and chilling noises and depressing, identical walls of the Bastion, the harrowing, dangerous missions he'd sent him on that resulted in the dozens of scars and burns on his arms that still now stung whenever the topic came up.

And he couldn't stop doubting himself, wondering if he'd done the right thing in betraying Mango, or if he was hunting him down at that very moment.

He'd been on the road for several days now, and he was set to reach his destination today, but the several sleepless nights he'd spent in a row were definitely taking their toll on his progress. With every step his legs screamed in protest, his skin itched with the scrapes and bugbites he'd obtained, but he couldn't stop now, now that he was so painfully close he could taste it.

His mind wandered back into the realm of agonizing memories, now recalling the awful things Mango would make him do in excruciating detail; the grotesque executions he'd order for the Piglins, the way he had forced him to fight Red and the Second Coming, and abandon Blue and Green in the pitiless void of the End - it was torture to think, but he couldn't stop himself.

He went further and further into this vicious mental cycle as the day dragged on, stopping neither to eat nor drink nor rest. He couldn't now that he'd come this far.

As the sun began to set, he drew his sword as a precaution. There was no telling what could be in the shadows, but his ears were pricked specifically for the tell-tale beeps of Mango's staff.

Maybe he was overthinking, but it was better to be paranoid than dead.

There! He could have sworn he heard something shifting in a dip concealed by shadow. Purple froze in fear, bracing himself, daring not even to breathe.

A fox darted out of the hole. Purple sighed, relieved yet slightly exasperated.

He continued down the path he'd planned out, eyes resolutely on the ground. The sun had set shockingly fast, and there was no point in looking up. He tried focusing on his heartbeat, his footsteps, his breathing. He needed something to distract himself, to stop himself from thinking too hard.

He really needed someone right now.

His legs hurt and his eyes stung and his heart was practically fighting to get out of his chest.

His inhalations were ragged, irregular, he was struggling to breathe from the random spasms of his diaphragm.

He teetered on the verge of tears for a moment.

And then, Purple broke.

His knees trembled and gave way, he sank to the floor with a defeated sob.

The rough flooring cut his knees, but he could barely feel the pain. It was all he could do to curl up, wrap his wings around his shivering body, and simply cry.
His tears warmed his face for a brief moment before leaving him colder than before. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

"I-I'm such an i-idiot, b-reaking d-down like this..." Purple smiled to himself weakly in between hiccups. He forced himself back up, putting a palm on the rough ground to lean on.

He was about to continue his journey when small movement caught his eye. It was the fox from before, Purple was pretty sure. It was looking at him curiously; head tilted to the side, one paw up in the air, caught mid-step.

"Hey, little guy." Purple said softly, with a sniffle.

The fox took a cautious step closer, seemingly in response. Its head was lowered, looking into his eyes.

Purple crouched and reached a hand out, and the fox hesitated before putting its nose up to it. He chuckled lightly, shifting his hand from its nose to its head in a swift motion.

The fox's coat was as silky as it appeared, flowing between Purple's fingers flawlessly. It closed its eyes, and an unmistakable smile appeared on its face. Purple couldn't help but smile, too.
The fur did, admittedly, remind him of his old cloak from when he used to be 'king'. Foxfur had sounded so regal at the time. Purple's eyes began to water again.

Its eyes shot open, and he barely even had time to react as it leapt up. Luckily, it simply hopped into his lap, soft back brushing against his eyes, wiping his tears. It felt intentional.

Purple paused.

"Thanks, buddy." he said, with a sniffle. "Guess I owe you shelter, now, don't I?"

He cradled the fox, making sure it was secure, before pushing himself back up and continuing on his journey. Getting comfortable, it turned around in his arms, exposing its pearly white belly.

Purple hummed a few songs he knew as they walked, and the fox listened intently - or at least seemed to, and that was quite enough for him. He told it animated tales of the things he'd been through and buried his nose in its fur, he tickled it with the elytra and let it leap out whenever it shifted, both so they could walk alongside each other, and because, every so often, it would run to the side of the road and bring him a flower or berry to share.

Purple was in an avid staring contest with the creature, not looking up, when he bumped into something. Hard.

He looked up, wincing, and all of the mischievous air he'd held a minute ago vanished.

His eyes widened and his arms fell limp, dropping the fox - luckily, it recovered quick, landing on its paws.

It was the gateway.

The oh so painfully familiar gateway, the one that lead to his computer, his home.

Home. His eyes stung with tears as that word ran through his mind.

He couldn't handle the incomprehensible half-formed thoughts that were rushing through his head, the mix of joy and pain in his tears, the euphoria swelling in his chest.

He collapsed onto all fours. He couldn't resist. He couldn't fight it anymore.

He barely felt the fox putting a concerned paw on his clenched hand. There was too much, too much on the inside, so much more than the deprivation of the Bastion could have prepared him for. It was nothing compared to this, Mango's thousand forceholds fell insignificant, overshadowed by the raw emotion possessing every fiber of his being.

Purple started shaking, and the fox curled around his arm, helpless.