Pain. Lots of pain. That was the first thing Sidney became aware of as he regained consciousness. His stomach hurt badly and his chest and arms ached. He coughed a little and whimpered since even breathing hurt. He slowly opened his dull grey eyes, noticing his surroundings were dark. He didn't have the strength to even attempt sitting up, so he just turned his head over a bit. He gasped in shock.
Ghostwriter was leaning back in a chair next to the bed he was laying in, his eyes closed and he seemed to be asleep. Sidney whimpered and tears welled up in his eyes. This ghost had stopped him from dying...when he wanted it to end! Why..? Did he just want him to keep suffering?
Sidney shuddered and weakly rolled over onto his side away from Ghostwriter, coughing up a small amount of ectoplasm. He heard a noise and froze up, eyes wide. Ghostwriter was waking up.
Ghostwriter's green eyes snapped open and he sat up with a gasp. Shit, I fell asleep! What if Sidney passed while I was asleep? Oh, no...
He quickly turned to check on the ghost, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw Sidney had moved a little. He got up and gently felt his core pulse, then smiled a little. It was beating at a steady rhythm now, though still a little weak. He was just glad the smaller ghost was alive.
He sighed. "I'm gonna get us some hot cocoa...if you need anything, just ask, if you're able."
There was no reply from the teenage ghost. Ghostwriter sighed softly and walked down to the kitchen, turning on the burner and heating up some water. He took out a package of mini-marshmallows and two of hot cocoa mix, and waited for the water to be heated.
Once it was all hot, he poured the water into two mugs and mixed in the packets of cocoa mix. He smiled a little and added the mini-marshmallows. He always waited until his melted so the cocoa was more creamy. He took the two mugs back upstairs and setting one on the bedside table. "Hey...I brought you some cocoa...if you need any help drinking it, just ask, okay?"
Sidney didn't reply, except for a quiet noise. Ghostwriter sighed and sat down, waiting for his marshmallows to melt in the cocoa. The silence was tense, and Ghostwriter could tell something was up. He took a sip of his cocoa and glanced at the boy.
The silence lasted for a while longer before a soft whisper reached his pointed ears. "...why..?"
Ghostwriter gasped, he hadn't expected to hear this. He looked at him, green eyes filled with concern. "Why what..?"
"Why didn't you let me die..? It's what I wanted..."
The black-haired author tensed up and nervously tightened his scarf. "I..I, uh...well...it wouldn't be right...suicide isn't the way out...Why would you even want that, anyhow?"
"Nobody would have missed me...I'm just their personal punching bag..."
The author looked away and bit his lip, his sharp teeth causing it to bleed. He sighed sadly. "Why didn't you ever ask for help? Find someone you could trust?"
He glanced back and saw that the boy was trembling and holding himself. He saddened and had to force back tears. The silence returned for a few minutes. Then Sidney spoke again. "Nobody would listen. The Christmas truce was my only respite from the bullying..."
Ouch. Ghostwriter remembered with a pang the year he broke the Christmas truce. He recalled the Lunch Lady had sat on the poor boy during the fight and he shuddered...he had ruined the one day Sidney was able to get away from the pain.
"I...I'm sorry..."
"Save it for someone who deserves it."
Ghostwriter tensed up and looked at him. He set his cocoa down and lightly touched his shoulder. The smaller ghost flinched and trembled, eyes wide. "D-d-don't hurt me, p-p-please!"
He shook his head slowly and sadly. "I won't...I promise."
He could feel Sidney go from tense to relaxed then back to tense again. "H...how can I trust you...?"
The ghostly author gently pulled Sidney into his arms, holding him to his chest. The boy could feel and hear the gentle, but strong, steady thumping of his core. The boy was soothed by the older ghost's corebeat, and he relaxed in his arms.
"I will protect you, Sidney...You can stay here as long as you like. You'll never have to go back to that horrible realm again. I'll keep you safe with all my afterlife. That is a promise. And I never break my promises."
Sidney gasped softly and looked up at the ghost, opening his mouth to say something then decided not to. He nuzzled into his chest and closed his eyes, deciding to take this offer. Anything to escape the horrible bullying. Anything.
Ghostwriter smiled, seeing that the ghost relaxed and seemed to trust him. He lightly stroked his hair, and watched over him as the smaller ghost fell asleep in his arms. He sighed and relaxed as well, still holding the boy close. Their cocoa was getting cold...oh well, he could just make some more later.
He hummed a little as he felt exhaustion begin to take him. He sighed and recited a line from his favorite poem, written by a good friend of his in his human life, before he drifted to sleep.
"We are the Dead, Short days ago, We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved and were loved, and now we lie...
In Flanders Fields..."
A/N: So this story has gotten a few views, favorites and follows..but no reviews?! I am surprised. O.O Well, I hope you enjoy this slightly more cheerful chapter! And I kinda wanna get at least one review before I post the next chapter. But yeah, the core is like a ghost's heart if you're confused by that.
Enjoy the little hint to Ghostwriter's human past..and when he lived and how he died. Since we all have the general assumption that Sidney killed himself in canon-verse, I've decided to change the assumption that Ghostwriter died of work-related stress.
See ya guys later!
