Chapter Text
The walk back was silent. The ringing in Foolish’s ears would have drowned out anything Bad had to say anyway. He didn’t hear the wind as it rustled through the trees. The crunch of footsteps on autumn leaves was muffled.
He’d told himself he wouldn’t get attached. He’d sworn it. He’d seen too many people with grey skin and dead eyes, not quite living but unable to die, unwillingly made immortal in the worst sense of the word.
Foolish didn’t even like children. Much like the small, cute animals he tended to detest, they died in droves, incapable of protecting themselves. A life wasn’t worthy of being unless it could bare its teeth and rip into that which would cut it down. That was the totem way, and it had served him well.
Morgan certainly hadn’t been capable of defending himself at that age, so why hadn’t Foolish shaken him off? He should have left him on a doorstep and walked away, letting the years pass over him unhindered. Why had he allowed him to stay?
If he hadn’t, Morgan would still be alive.
Maybe he would have died from old age. More likely, he would have gone into the forest and lost track of time, searching blindly for the way back before getting caught by the various creatures that hunted at night. Either way, he wouldn’t have died from Foolish’s own magic.
Instead, he had taken that totem with bright eyes and careful hands, slipping its chain over his head without a second thought. In that final, crucial moment, he’d thrown it down with all the trust in the world.
“I told you not to give it to him.” His voice cracked through the silence like a whip. Bad glanced over. From the edge of Foolish’s vision, he saw red-rimmed eyes and dried tears lining his cheeks. The sight made him unreasonably annoyed. He closed his fists and focused on breathing. “What, not gonna say anything? You've been experimenting with my magic for decades, you know what it does."
Bad looked away. They both knew the obvious. It hung between them like a lead weight pulling them deep into the sea. If Bad was at fault here, then Foolish was as well.
Neither of them had truly believed it would be dangerous. Foolish's objection had been cursory at best, and in the end, they'd both encouraged him to wear it. It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. Morgan’s old totem definitely wasn’t safe, and they were only planning on climbing a short way before finding a spot to stay for the night. He’d never needed a totem before, so why would this be any different? Both Foolish and Bad would be there to watch him. He was supposed to be safe.
Why had Morgan been careless enough to jump into a cave system? It’s not like any of them had proper gear.
“I told him to leave. I tried to keep him safe.” Bad’s voice was more cut up than his was. “He didn’t want to leave you behind.”
“And now he’s dead and gone anyway. Do you think his soul went on to whatever sort of afterlife you talk about, or did the totem magic absorb it like all the other pillagers.” He only received a shrug in response. Unfair to try making Bad talk like this, but Foolish was angry and the silence was unbearable. “His entire village died to your experimentation, by the way. It’s a miracle he never became a pillager himself.”
“I’m sorry.” The words emerged so quietly Foolish almost didn’t hear them.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s my fault. I should have grabbed him, pulled him back. We shouldn't have gone to look for you. I should have gotten him to leave immediately. He didn’t even have proper caving gear, why didn’t I give him-”
“Bad, Bad stop.” Foolish interrupted. Of course he was beating himself up all on his own. Stupid demon, what did Foolish expect? He took a deep breath. “Let’s slow down, okay? It wasn’t your fault.” The words grated against his ears, but Bad seemed to lean into them.
“So what you’re saying is it’s your fault.” It took everything in Foolish to stop himself from reacting. If he hadn’t known Bad for so long, he might have even fallen for the terrible attempt at a joke.
“No, that is not what I said and you know it.” He cleared his throat to hide the way his voice caught. “It was an unfortunate circumstance.” He didn’t like the way Bad turned to scrutinize him. “Listen, the totem we made is ready, right? If I wear it, I won’t turn people into pillagers?”
Bad’s expression shuttered. “Almost. I need to make a few more adjustments before you can wear it. Foolish, are you sure-”
“There’s nothing more to say, Bad.” He cut him off harshly. The sound of his voice was grating, and Foolish just wanted silence. “He’s dead, and there is nothing either of us can do to bring him back. Not even your most experimental totems are any useful here. You’re a reaper, not…” not anything useful. He waved his arms vaguely. “Anything like that, all right? It’s over. End of discussion.”
He quickened his pace and pulled ahead before Bad could get any more words in. He’d stay with Bad long enough to finish the totem, and then he’d leave. Was it unfair? Probably, but his and Bad’s incompatibility had always been abundantly clear. Even with their bantering and occasional stints of camaraderie, something always went downhill when they worked together. The only thing they ever got by it was bitter endings and decisive partings, and today was a harsh reminder of that.
Foolish almost felt bad for his decision, but he needed a break. He needed time alone to think and straighten out his mind, and Bad would not be conducive to that. Knowing him, he’d unintentionally make it worse. Even if they didn’t get in each other’s way or purposefully mess things up, something always went wrong. Yet for some reason, Foolish allowed himself to fall for the same trap over and over again. It couldn’t continue.
Feeling sorry for himself and dwelling on the past accomplished nothing. He’d done that too many times to count, and although he was devastated by Morgan’s loss so much it hurt to breathe, spiralling didn't get shit done. Right now, he could afford no space for his emotions or Bad’s.
The steady march of life stopped for nobody, and despite the consuming ache in his chest, he must continue to march with it.