“Where On Earth Did You Get A Harmonica?”

“Where on earth did you get a harmonica?”

Connor took his harmonica away from his mouth with mild annoyance. “You didn’t get your prison-issued harmonica when you got locked in here?”

The enderman guy in the next cell over, Ranboo he said his name was, looked taken aback, which was the biggest change in emotion Connor had seen from him. “No?”

“It was a joke man, don’t worry.” He didn’t want the guy to have a heart attack or something. “I hid it in my onesie. I mean, there’s no radio in here so I had to make do.”

“What was that song you were playing? It was really nice.” Ranboo still sounded kind of rough- he’d been crying on and off since Sam had brought him in yesterday.

“It’s- uh- it’s Mask Sus Remix.” Connor looked down at the harmonica and then up at Ranboo.

“Sounds interesting… is it a classical piece?”

“Uh… yeah, definitely.” Connor replied after a moment of silence. Ranboo nodded. Silence fell between them again. Connor wanted to pick up the harmonica and start playing again to mask the silence, like he had when Ranboo was crying, and even put the thing to his mouth, but lowered it again. “Hey, Ranboo?”

Ranboo looked at him, those red and green eyes so jarring to see. “Yeah?”

“Why are you in here? What the hell did you do?”

Ranboo laughed. Well, he gave a single, dry “ha!”, at least. “It’s a long story. What about you?”

“You clearly don’t understand how the exchange of information works, so I’m not telling you.” Connor folded his arms.

Ranboo shook his head. “Really, I just don’t want to talk about it.”

“Is that why you’re crying all the time?” Connor asked, figuring he might as well ask all the emotionally invasive questions now.

Ranboo shook his head, looking more and more distressed. He didn’t say anything, though, just turned away and pressed his shirt cuffs to his eyes.

“Sorry man, didn’t mean to upset you.” Connor said, mentally kicking himself. He put the harmonica to his lips again and began to play again, this time something a little more relevant. A song called “Folsom Prison Blues”, although still as incomprehensible as the last, as he’d only leaned to play a few days ago.

Time wasn’t dictated by clocks in prison. This wasn’t particularly new to Connor, the null of time, but it was still a weird feeling. The warden was their time god here, when he came with food. A full meal delivery passed before Ranboo spoke again.

“I just really miss my kid. And my husband.”

Connor had been drifting off on the floor, but sat up to look and listen. “You have a kid? And a husband? I didn’t know anyone was, like, able to form meaningful connections anymore on this server.”

Ranboo chuckled at that. “Yeah. Me, Tubbo, and Michael. I miss them a lot.”

Having come from nothingness, Connor couldn’t relate to the whole family thing, but it still was sweet to hear Ranboo speak so lovingly about them.”

“Hey man, it’s gonna be okay.” Connor wasn’t quite sure why he said it, but it felt like the right thing to do. “We’re gonna be okay.”

The prison alarms were still blaring when Ranboo was slaughtered in front of the prison. Connor watched his body collapse to the ground like a puppet that’s had its strings cut.

Connor heard Technoblade’s yell, the gasps from the crowd. It was the middle of the day, blinding hot and hostile. His now dirty onesie stuck to him like a second skin. And he watched Ranboo die.

He slid into the ranks of the gathered crowd of locals like he has always been there, and no one even gave him a second glance. So forgettable he might as well have just been there the whole time, that’s who Connor was.

He watched the place where Ranboo’s body had fallen for a long time after the crowds had left. He was mildly sad, as one would be for who, in all reality, was essentially a stranger. But it was the husband and the kid that he couldn’t stop thinking about. Even that much love wasn’t enough to stop a blade.

Connor dug a small hole in the bloody sand and buried the harmonica. An unfair grave for an unfair death.