Palette was woken from his sleep by a distant noise.
My alarm? Is it 6 already? It really doesn't feel like I've slept very long. Maybe I can sleep for a bit longer... 10 is still a little ways off.
Reaching over to the nightstand for his phone, he was a bit miffed when his fingers only met paper and books instead of the noisy contraption. Begrudgingly he opened his eyes, realizing it wasn't his alarm making the noise, but a call. Pulling the phone towards him and glancing at the time revealed it was barely past 2 am.
Who in the world would be calling now?
His eyes widened a bit when Geno's name lit up the notification area on the screen. Swiping his thumb to answer the call, Palette held the phone to the side of his skull. "Hello?" he mumbled, still partially asleep.
"Is Goth there?!" Geno's panicked voice shouted over the phone. Any remaining thoughts of sleep flew out of Palette's mind.
"N-no, he left a few hours ago... he should be home by now," the young skeleton replied, a pit forming in his non-existent stomach.
Geno was quickly devolving into hysterics on the other end, "He's not! He ... he never came home and he's not answering his phone! Where's my baby?!"
Goth never made it home? My house is maybe an hour's walk from Goth's... not even that if he bypasses the park. I last texted him around 9:30 last night, and it's just past 2 now... no one's seen or heard from Goth in over 4 hours.
Palette vaguely heard Reaper in the background comforting a distraught Geno, telling him they would find their son. A door could be heard opening and closing, then only sobbing remained. Reaper had gone to look for Goth.
Behind him, Palette's door opened, revealing his mom standing in the doorway. "Palette? What's all the noise?" he murmured, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Palette ignored his mom in favor of rushing over to his closet.
"I'll help look for him, too," Palette said into the phone, reaching for his boots.
"P-please... let m-me know if you find anything... please find him," Geno pleaded, tears plain in his voice. It made the pit grow deeper hearing Goth's mom begging for his son's safety.
"Of course! Send Mister Reaper's number over so I can call him too if I find anything," Palette added as he donned his jacket, scarf, and hat. At this point, Dream had figured out what was going on and agreed to help with the search as well, darting to his own room to get dressed.
After giving a goodbye, more reassurances, and receiving a text for Reaper's number, Palette hung up, snagged a flashlight, and raced out the door closely followed by Dream. Snow was falling at a steady pace, dancing in the wind.
After agreeing on where they would begin their searches, Palette raced off towards the park, phone and flashlight clutched tightly in his hands as he ran.
The park's East entrance is right by Goth's house. While it usually takes longer for him to get home going through the park, he enjoys the scenic view and frequently uses that route. Hopefully, that still holds true.
Fumbling with the phone as he ran, Palette pulled up Goth's contact number and called, hoping to get a response. "Come on... please pick up, Goth," the skeleton pleaded softly. His soul sank as the phone went over to voicemail. Not giving up, the skeleton hung up and tried again. And again. And again.
Why isn't he answering his phone? Did something happen? Or is he...
Shaking the thought out of his skull, Palette hit redial once more.
As the West entrance to the park came into view a block away, a click followed by shaky breathing was heard instead of the voicemail tone. "Goth, thank the stars you finally picked up! Where are you?" Palette cheered into the receiver. His happiness was short-lived when only a shaky exhale replied, "...Goth?"
Only breathing and the roar of the wind could be heard.
"P...pa...le...tte," Goth's voice ghosted through the phone, as if barely there. Palette stopped running so he could hear the small skeleton's words. The wind in the background made it too difficult otherwise. "I... h... idunno... fell... 'scold... hurs... can'see... s'blurry...," the smaller skeleton seemed to be gasping out each bit, his words slurring together.
"Goth, tell me what happened. Please," Palette said carefully, not liking how disconnected and tired Goth sounded.
Cold? Hurt? Can't see? What happened to him?
Palette gripped his phone tighter.
A soft groan came through the other end, "Th... th'park..." A pause, "I... w... waswalkng... p... pas'atree... n'slipped... now... headhurs... cold... n'tired..." A whimper and a sniff, followed by a shuddering breath. "...m'scared...I... don'wanna... b... bealone... please... h... helpme...," a quiet sob leaked out, sending a lance of pain through Palette's soul.
He started running again, kicking up snow while closing the distance to the park. Where Goth was. Where Palette needed to be.
"It'll be okay, Goth! I'm at the West park entrance now!" Palette assured as he rounded the gate leading into the park. Shaky breathing could barely be heard over the howl of the wind. "Mister Reaper's looking too! I promise you'll be okay," he continued, injecting as much positivity as possible into his voice as he passed a snow-covered bench, "and I won't leave you alone! Never! You're too important to me!"
Palette lightly blushed when he realized what he'd said, but he refused to take it back. It was true. He'd had the thought in the back of his mind for years now, but Goth had always meant the world to him.
Silence met him. "Goth?" he called out. More silence.
Pulling his phone away from his skull, his soul stuttered when he realized the call had disconnected and he was kicked out to the main screen. The time read almost 3 AM. A quick redial sent his call straight to voicemail.
Palette gritted his teeth and dialed Reaper as he sped past a fountain. The place he and Goth had planned on meeting seven hours from now. It didn't look like that would be happening today.
If I don't find him soon, I may not get to meet him at all.
***
Word count: 1,052