Chapter Text
“You’re like a brother to me!”
Owen paused in his steps, the grip on his weapon loosening as he stared at Apo, the other staring shakily into his eyes. Apo was breathing heavily, and, now that Owen was truly looking at him, looked worse for wear.
Apo had lost his horns. The horns Owen was always so fascinated with but he never truly knew why, and now that he knew why, he couldn’t help but feel sick. His clothes looked taken care of, but Owen could spot the stains that no one in the clearing, much less the maze, would be able to get rid of. He didn’t look threatening, and if Owen didn’t know any better, if Owen didn’t know Apo as well as he did, he would say he wasn’t.
Apo took a step forwards, towards Owen who was threatening to kill him less than five seconds ago. Owen didn’t understand why, Apo had every chance to run and he should have. Not only was Owen threatening to kill him, Owen had hurt him, made Apo run away so he had to live in the maze. Owen mirrored his step, taking a step back instead of forward.
“I-I don’t know what happened before you came into the maze, before you were forced into the maze, but that person wasn’t you.” Apo took another step forward. Owen took another step back.
“My friend, my best friend, is that man I met from the elevator, the same man that I would joke around with, make cheesecakes with, and… a different man I hurt is now standing in front of me promising to kill me.” Apo took another step forward. Owen took another step back.
“What happened to you Owen?” Apo asked, his steps now paused as he realized he was growing no closer to his friend. And… wasn’t that the question Owen wanted asked the whole time?
Owen wanted a chance to let it out, to express himself, to choose what he wanted to be instead of what his dad decided he should be. The weapon in his hand felt oddly heavier, and the anger towards Apo slowly started to melt.
“Owen…” Apo started, looking right into his eyes. Owen wanted to squirm, he wanted to scream, he wanted to fight, he wanted to hunt. And yet… “I’m just guessing, and let me know if I overstepped but… did you ever get to choose who you wanted to be?”
“I wanted to protect people.” Owen spoke, the answer slipping out of his mouth before he even had time to process it. Almost as if it had been rehearsed before. His voice was shakier than he would have liked, as his grip on his weapon tightened considerably, to the point he almost could have sworn the wood was going to shatter. Apo shook his head, as if he knew something Owen didn’t.
“Did you? Or did someone else want you to?” Apo asked.
Owen didn’t realize he was crying, or that Apo had gotten so close, until he felt a familiar hand wiping away the tears that were now trailing down his cheeks. He looked at Apo, who was simply smiling at him. Apo looked so kind up close, and Owen mourned that his friend lost his horns.
“I think you would have been a baker.” Apo said. Owen found himself laughing, his voice wet with the tears that were now falling freely down his cheeks.
“A baker?” He asked, his voice slipping into the tone he had been using earlier, no longer the deep voice he had to put on to intimidate his enemies. Apo seemed to realize this, as his a grin appeared on his face
“Yeah! With how quickly you picked up making apple pies and cheesecakes, I really think you could have been an amazing baker.” Apo grinned, making Owen laugh and smile with him. Not a big grin like the other had on, but a nice, simple one.
“You said it wrong.” He said, watching as Apo’s face morphed into one of confusion. He thought back over his words but eventually shook his head
“I don’t think I said anything wrong.” He stated, genuine confusion rippling through his voice. Owen couldn’t help but laugh. He glanced at the weapon in his hands and ended up dropping to the floor with an angry clatter that made the both of them wince. He couldn’t find it in him to care though, as his body surged forward and wrapped his arms around Apo tightly.
“Apo pie.” Owen said, his voice a little muffled by Apo’s shoulder. “You said apple pie. It’s Apo pie.”
Owen felt as Apo processed the words. He felt as Apo’s hands raised and gently pressed into his back, hugging him as close as he possibly could. The hug was gentle, but the longer time went on, the more desperate it became. Owen gripped onto Apo’s jacket, sobbing into his shoulder as Apo did the same to the green shirt Owen had been given to wear to the hellhole he was in. Apo sobbed, louder than Owen, but he found that he didn’t mind.
Owen wasn’t sure how long it took until someone found the two, still gripping onto each other and sobbing like they had both found someone they so desperately lost, but he knew they were found eventually. He knew that he never let go of Apo, and Apo never let go of him.
He knew that he brought Apo to his home, and he placed a red sleeping bag down right beside his bed. He knew that neither of them had talked, both knowing that they wouldn’t be able to say anything other than apologies. Owen still held onto Apo’s hand, as both collapsed into their respective beds, and Apo never voiced any feelings about letting go, so it seemed as though neither would
“When we wake up,” Apo eventually spoke. “I think we need to discuss what… Uhm…” Apo trailed off, and Owen simply sighed and nodded, burying his face into the pillow.
“I mean, my own subconscious did tell me I needed to talk more.” Owen mumbled, and lifted his head when Apo gripped his hand harder, confusion on his face when Owen glanced over.
“What??” Apo asked, and Owen couldn’t help but laugh and tighten his hold on Apo’s hand
“You uh, you missed a bit. I was out for like, at least a month because I got stung by that thing. The monster.” Owen offered some sort of information. But the second he said it, Apo simply shook his head and struggled a little, but eventually got his blanket to cover most of his body.
“That's tomorrow Apo’s problem.” He grumbled, and Owen couldn’t help but laugh and agree
Despite the issues swirling in his gut, despite all the pain and anguish he had experienced, Owen knew he had found a family again. And sure, it may have been someone who was the same race as the people who killed everything he had ever known, but as long as Apo was by his side, Owen could feel some semblance of peace
He stared at their intertwined hands. His hands were covered in marks, marks that proved he was a soldier. Yet, Apo held them so gently, as if his hands could shatter at any moment.
Owen had a smile on his face as he fell asleep. And while he heard screaming, voices he remembered now calling him a traitor for daring to call the enemy his brother, they didn’t feel quite as suffocating as before.
“Goodnight Owen Keldor.” He whispered, before finally allowing sleep to consume him