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You're standing still.
You’ve been standing still for some time now, gripping a broom in your hands.
You’ve been staring, also. Staring at a certain door you haven’t had the courage time to open ever since you woke up from the King’s curse.
“It must be dusty after so many months…” you mutter to yourself. “I need to clean it up before Bo-…” you pause, swallowing hard. Don’t cry now! Just! Don’t! That’s not gonna solve anything!
One of your hands temporarily lets go of the broom to lightly smack your cheek.
Once.
Twice.
Back to it.
“It’s just a stupid crabbing room,” you try to convince yourself, “and it needs to be clean for when Bonnie comes home.”
There, you said it.
When they come home. Not if, not maybe, when. Because they promised to run and to live. So if they managed to run, they must be alive too. That’s the only scenario that makes sense. That’s the only option. There’s no point in thinking about other terrifying life-ending dumb theories.
So their room has to be clean for when they come back. After cleaning literally every other corner of the house, there’s nothing stopping you anymore. That’s the logical next step. Now, if your feet could start moving, that’d be nice-
You’re interrupted in your thoughts by a sudden noise behind you. Before you can even register what you’re doing, you sharply turn around, muscles tensed, broom striking- … the empty air.
Well duh. The source of the noise is currently passed out on your couch. Not much of a threat.
You let go of your fighting stance with a roll of your shoulders and look curiously at your… guest. Who’s tossing and turning in their sleep.
…
Damn.
Even in their sleep, they seem to be going through some sort of struggle. Which is both impressive and sad. They really can’t catch a break!
From the moment you woke them up on the beach, you knew you couldn't let them roam around unsupervised. You hadn't planned on taking them in, really. You only wanted to make sure they weren't dead or about to drown from the waves. But something about the way they seemed so utterly and completely lost compelled you.
You don't know what drugs they consumed the night before, but clearly, it messed them up real bad, to the point where they couldn't even believe they were alive. You want to think that being dead wasn't their goal back then, but you can't really rule it out either. Still, you know that they don't want to die now. In fact, the poor thing seems scared crabless of death, to the point where they were afraid of even sleeping. You had to trick them into it.
Honestly, they looked so miserable this morning that you kinda felt guilty for making them sleep on the couch. But your generosity has its limits. If you can’t even step into Bonnie’s room, there’s no way you’re gonna let a stranger sleep in it. And! They said that the lack of sleep was because of panic attacks, so not your fault!
Though, a good host would let them have a real bed eventually... right? You took them in, so they're your responsibility now. You’re supposed to be welcoming. You’re supposed to be generous to people. Help out however you can. That’s basic vaugardian politeness. That’s the right thing to do.
So. Not only do you have to clean the room for Bonnie’s return, but you might have a guest to accommodate in the meantime. And a dusty room won’t do.
You turn, facing the door once again. You’re resolute, you’re determined, you’ve got this.You absolutely have to open that door-
“Mhng……” You pause, hearing the stranger stir in their sleep and eventually…
“…‘Nille…?” came a small, sleepy voice.
Thank Change for this distraction You turn towards your guest and discover them tiredly squinting your way.
“Yeah?” you keep your voice low enough not to startle them out of sleep.
“D’you… need help…withhhhuuuh…” their mind seems to stall at the word “cleaning”, or maybe “broom”? Either way, you’re gonna have mercy on them because as usual, you feel like they kinda need it.
“Nah don’t worry. That's something I want to do myself.”
“Just you……?” they’re fighting to keep their eyes open but are losing spectacularly, soon giving up by letting them close again.
“Yeah. That’s…” You pause, chewing on your lip.
Ah crab it, might as well say it. You doubt they’ll even remember.
“That’s my sibling's room. They…”
You breathe. You feel like you need to get it out, now. You need to put it into words at least once. Finish what you started.
“They ran away when the King’s curse hit… I need to clean their room while they’re… gone.” You feel your breath hitch, crabbing tears making their way into your eyes.
You made them run away. They’re missing because of your poor judgement. They’d be right here, safe and sound, if you didn’t tell them to go… But you didn’t think the curse could ever be broken. You thought… Well, it doesn’t help your situation to think about it right now, does it? In fact, you’ve been so focused on not crying that you almost don’t hear what the stranger says. But you do hear it. And it gives you pause.
“What… did you say?” you slowly ask.
“Kid’s safe…” they mumble, as if they had declared that water is wet, or that fire burns.
Despite the pit in your stomach, you kinda want to laugh. They seem so sure of it that you almost want to believe them, but you know better. It’s been months. A lot could have happened.
“I hope so…” You say instead. That’s all you can really do now. Wait and hope.
Their face contorts into a frown, as if offended. “I know so… the others wouldn’t let… wouldn't… hmmm…” Lost their train of thought again.
To be fair, they’re basically asleep. They’re probably half dreaming, convinced of things that don’t really make sense. But you're curious now, you want to know what their mind came up with.
“Who’s ‘the others’?”
They mumble a bit before speaking more intelligibly “Th’saviors…”
“The Saviors… ? You mean those who killed the King?”
“Mhmm” they hum approvingly. “They… they love Bonnie… they keep…… keep…………safe…………” they let out a deep sigh, body relaxing fully.
…And with that, you can tell that they’re completely unconscious again.
You stand there for a bit.
Bonnie with the Saviors huh? That’s a nice thought. You hope the truth isn’t too far from this stranger’s dream. You hope they’re alive. Safe. On their way home.
You hope, with all your might, that someone out there helped Bonnie, however they could. Got them food. Clothes. Somewhere to sleep. Didn’t leave them alone when they so obviously needed help…
…
You glance back at your guest, and at the uncomfortable couch they're sleeping in.
You grip your broom, facing the door once again.
Come on Nille, you have a room to clean.