It's Us Crew Oneshots

Changes (Dread Squad/Donchard Oneshot)

December, 2018

Don gazed out his window, looking down at the gravely road. Ever since he and his friends had moved to a neighborhood of apartment complexes, things have been pretty quiet between the three of them. The blue rooftops of the complexes shimmered in the sun, reflecting light through Don's window and straight into his eye. He shifted his weight and stared at the beautiful shrubbery outside that lined each apartment complex, wondering if winter would bring anything new. A few residents of the apartments had come together and decorated the buildings with bright, yellow lights that turned on at night, and Don couldn't help but contemplate on what kind of idiot would spend so much time hanging up lights on walls and wreaths on doors for no reason.

     Finally spent after straining his brain on the thought for too long, Don closed the blinds and retreated to the couch of his living room. The apartments all looked the same inside, spare for a few who lived at the top and had enough money for penthouse-like rooms. The normal apartments, though, only had three rooms, two of them being the bedroom and bathroom. Sure, there were a few apartments that had more than one bedroom to fit a small family, but those people typically resided further down the block. The kitchen was usually the area that greeted you when you entered into the apartment, the living room right beside it, both being out in the open. Don hadn't done much to decorate his home apart from a few sunflower paintings on the walls and a yellow rug over the white carpet of the living room, a few matching throw pillows on the couch. His bedroom was pretty simple as well, merely mimicking the colors of the rest of the apartment. Yeah, Don had found he quite liked the color yellow, but he had no idea if it was his own volition or the parallel fact that Jon liked purple. Don liked to think it was on his own accord.

     He missed his friends, believe it or not. Even though the emo and the brat lived across the street, it was as if the three had isolated themselves the moment they moved from the Middle of Nowhere to here. Don often wondered if it was because of the Incident that the three had decided to silently break things off, but he hoped that wasn't the case. The young man sat in pensive silence, the new thought of maybe this was all a dream drifting into his mind. He died. His friends died. Why was he here? He only remembered being stuck in the idiot's head and then there being a bright light, and then he woke up in his bed back when he and his friends lived in the Middle of Nowhere. The three had moved almost immediately, a sense of relief washing over them when they didn't see DDawn or Duni anywhere. Then they somehow found the apartment complexes, moved in, and never spoke again. Don couldn't remember the last time he talked to them. It had to be months now, right? While he had talked to them several times over the course of the year, he had yet to actually sit down and hang out with the two.

Don finally had enough and stood up from the couch, grabbing his phone and hesitantly peeking out the window at the snowy street. A few people were out and about, taking a stroll through the neighborhood or heading off to the city far, far away. Don saw someone walking their dog past his apartment, and the young man anxiously retreated. After the dog-walker passed, he took one more glance out the window before finally exiting his apartment. He was lucky there were several people in the neighborhood that were eccentric or open-minded, leaving the residents in the area to simply glance over his jester outfit and continue on with their day. Don waved at a sweet, old lady that smiled at him before he trekked nervously across the street to the apartments of Richard and Dashlie. He stood for a moment, wondering who to greet first, before he hesitantly approached Richard's door and knocked. Don stared at the wreath on the black door for a bit before going to knock again. This time, however, the door opened the moment his gloved fist hit the door.

And there stood the towering figure of Richard, who was looking down at Don with a mix of exhaustion and surprise. Don would never say it to his face, but Dick looked absolutely awful — almost like he hadn't slept in months. There were bags under his red eyes, his raven-black hair was a mess, the man's ivory skin seemed paler, and his entire scrappy frame appeared disheveled and worn out. The smell of cigarette smoke wafted from the apartment the moment the door opened; Don acted like he didn't want to gag, instead keeping that impassive expression on his face he always wore. "Don?" Dick questioned, his dull eyes brightening just a bit before he scowled. "What are you doing here?"