Warning for mentions of self-harm and self-esteem/worth/hatred issues.
King had gone to run errands.
Purple was ninety percent sure it had something to do with his birthday coming up within a couple of days, but it was King. Maybe he was just using that as an excuse to go visit Gold, or get something for him, Purple never knew.
But, King was, in a way, just like him. He had his own past issues and present problems to work with.
"Like you." A voice in the back of his mind snarled. "He's just using this as an excuse to get away from you."
"Shut the fuck up," Purple snapped, glancing up from his book as his mind wandered. "I'm not a burden, now quit pestering me."
He thought he'd gotten rid of those thoughts months ago, when he finally gotten used to having a caring parent. He hadn't had that in years, ever since...she died.
He shook the thoughts away, trying to transition his focus back to the ink words on the pages.
Yet, he could not.
"Come on, focus!" He said to himself. "You're good enough, you're not a burden, you deserve to be happy. Happy now?"
Usually saying those words would comfort him into returning his focus back to whatever task he had on hand when his mind wandered to darker thoughts. A leftover of his fathers abuse.
Self-esteem problems. His worst enemy in his life following his father's abandonment.
Weren't they just wonderful?
No. They weren't.
God, he hated them.
Purple slammed the book shut. Once the thoughts started, there was almost no way to clear his head for a while. Until they stopped.
And they wouldn't for a while, he knew that.
Wonderful.
Taking small steps towards his bedroom, his eyes wandered to the window in the living room that overlooked the street. Eerily calm, a contrast to the previous day, where people had been running from the chaos known as the city's attack.
Now, all was well. Construction to repair the buildings had begun the very same day, and was going smoothly so far as he knew. He'd tried to steer away from the city. It was chaotic and hectic, and he didn't feel like getting a headache on top of the thoughts circling in his brain.
A trio of sticks ran past the window, and Purple froze.
Why did one of those look like Green?
Taking a cautious step into the main room again, his suspicion was confirmed when a harsh knock sounded at the door.
King wasn't that harsh. Hell, he didn't even knock unless they had argued and one stepped outside to cool off.
And even that was infrequent.
"Purple? It's Green. We need your help."
"Wow. Your friends fucked up enough to come to you, a bad influen-"
"I swear to fucking God, I will find a way to extinguish you if you guys don't shut the hell up." Purple snapped under his breath, trying to not get the attention of Green and the others as he opened the door.
"What'd you do?" He asked simply.
"Well...basically, this dude that Alan created a long ass time ago showed up and grabbed Second. Then they both got captured, and when we gave chase, Yellow got captured," Green explained.
Jesus Christ, what'd these three do to get two of their friends captured?
"And your coming to me because..." Purple trailed off, expecting one of the three to finish the sentence where he'd left it.
"Well, originally we wanted King, because...he almost took over Minecraft with a staff a while back, but obviously-"
"He's not here." Purple said, cutting Red off.
"And maybe you've heard of these guys before?" Green suggested, pulling out a piece of paper and showing Purple.
A wobbly drawn picture of a rocket ship logo.
Something in Purple's brain churned with recognition. He'd seen that logo around town. It was marketed onto TV's all over the city.
"I have seen the logo, but I'm not sure who they are." Purple said.
"From what we've seen, they seem to be some sort of secret organization who want Yellow and Second and Chosen."
Purple blinked. "Who the hell is Chosen?"
"Oh, right. You weren't there for that adventure," Green said.
"Chosen is a stick Alan created years before Second, and apparently, he's been pursued by these rocket guys."
"Would this Chosen be a hollowheaded black stick figure with laser eyes and fire coming out of his hands?" Purple said, gesturing his hands around wildly to emphasize his point.
"Wait, you've met him?!" Green exclaimed.
"No, but he sped through town being chased by a bunch of weird people on flying motorcycles," Purple pointed in the direction of the city. "And destroyed a crap ton of buildings. One of them almost killed me."
"And when was this?"
"Yesterday?"
"Jesus Christ, we really gotta keep track of time. We were running for a long time after Yellow got captured, and when we really started paying attention to where we were, we remembered you lived nearby with King and thought you'd be able to help."
"Well, we really can't help with staves or anything. We got rid of all of that months ago when King finally got courage to return here and clean up the mess after the battle."
"But, your a skilled fighter in hand-to-hand combat," Purple didn't miss the wince Green showed. He knew where the skill came from. "And these guys are pretty physical people."
"Please? Second and Yellow are your friends as much as their ours."
Purple stared at his best friend. Sure, he needed some type of adrenaline rush that didn't involve almost being crushed by a building, but these guys didn't sound fun.
"You'll need your "Dad" to come bail you out." The voice in his head said again.
He ignored it. "Okay, I'll help. But you guys owe me."
"Deal!"
"Now, where are these guys?" Purple smiled.
A sudden crash from behind them made them jump.
"Who the hell..."
"There they are! Get them!" The leader shouted. They were brighter than the others, a dull grey coating their features.
The leader, standing front and center, was a shiny silver.
A silver like the stars in the night sky.
A silver that sent shivers down Purple's back.
He knew them.
"Run!" Red shouted, pushing everyone into the house. Purple slammed the door, locking it and latching it.
"Are these the morons that kidnapped Yellow and Second?!" Purple shouted.
"Yep! Only one was tall and black and had really cool technology that kicked our asses." Blue rambled.
"Well, that bitch ain't here. I have knives and I am not afraid to use them." Purple snarled.
No, he was not afraid of using a kitchen cleaver to kill.
Afraid to kill? Sure. But afraid to use a kitchen cleaver as a weapon? No. He wasn't.
"Do the portals still work?!" Red pointed to the trapdoor.
"Yes, but we shouldn't use them. It'll be hard to get back."
He and King had been trying to find a way to travel between different Minecraft worlds freely without anything major happening. Nothing had gone well. Not yet, at least.
Purple always knew they'd figure something out.
"We'll sneak out through my window," Purple said, already moving down the hall to his bedroom.
"And then we sneak into the truck those bozos brought." Blue said.
"Bingo."
The door flew off its hinges, sliding to the floor in the living room. Green and the others had already disappeared into the room at the end of the hall.
Purple shut and locked his door as quietly as he could, before jumping to open his window just above his bed. "Quickly! They'll break down this door too!"
Blue and Red jumped out first, and Green followed. Purple grabbed the box-cutter, pocket knife, and a couple of his sharper blades from his nightstand drawer, stuffed them into a satchel laying half under his bed, and grabbed his phone from the nightstand.
"Tell me you don't-" Purple cut Green off with a glare.
"I'm not that depressed, Green. Sure, I have issues, but King would murder me if he ever found out I was harming myself. They're just for defense." Purple said with a tone that earned him a soft smile from his best friend.
"And they're pretty sharp, too. Perfect for this kind of moment." Red smiled, clutching Purple's shoulder.
"You know King isn't the only one who will kill you for hurting yourself, right?" Blue said.
"Yes, I know. Now, can we drop that topic and go get our friends back?" Purple didn't seem to enjoy that kind of talk.
Given, he had a point. He had people who cared. He wouldn't want to do that to them.
Green grabbed his hand, pulling him back into reality, and they ran across the street and jumped into the back of the truck. Boxes among boxes of cargo littered the bed.
A perfect cover-up.
The quartet jumped behind the boxes, making sure they put almost all barriers in front of themselves to prevent being spotted.
While they waited for the raid to end, Purple shot a text to King, hoping he got it.
Purple: Bunch of random agents from some secret organization came breaking down the door and attacked. Green and the others showed up, and we escaped into one of their trucks. I'm not sure where we'll end up afterwards, but I know you'll figure something out. You care that much, right?
"Please, King. Don't abandon me." He whispered, hoping with every last ounce of energy he had left that this worked.
"The kids seem to have vanished. We've taken every room in this house apart. They're not here." The agent said.
"Keep checking. My cousin may be a smart boy, but I know he can't hide three other teenagers with him."
"Agent Silver? What do you mean?"
"Purple, my cousin, has seen more suffering than anyone could ever imagine. He's been through the unimaginable numerous times, and they've grown on him. He's a smart kid."
"They must have escaped from a window. The boy's bedroom window is open, and it seems that some items are missing from his bedroom. The nature seems to prove so."
"Lock down the surrounding blocks. Find them, and bring them back to headquarters. They could be of use to us. Leave a note with our location here for his...guardian. I'm sure he'll be desperate to get this boy back."
"Yes, Agent Silver."
"Oh, Purple," Silver said fondly, shaking their head. "Your father truly did raise you right."
Their eyes fell to a picture their agents had knocked over. A smiling Purple with, if Silver's assumptions were correct, his adoptive father.
"We're going to put that to the test, aren't we?"