Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In the aftermath of Infernus, nothing was the same. 

"THE LAST ONE'S DEAD! WE DID IT!" Cheers erupted from all around him. Screaming and hooting from all sides. At long last, they had gotten their revenge for their dead leaders and prevailed against the tyrannical forces of Infernus. In that moment, there were no factional rivalries, no empires or coalitions. People from island one and island two embraced each other like old friends, laughing triumphantly. "WE DID IT!!!!"

Saparata stood at the top of the tower's stairs, having just managed to push through the crowd. His sword was clutched loosely in his hand.

He was too late. He couldn't believe it.

"Did you see that?!" Someone grabbed him by the shoulder. "Fluixon just fell into the lava! That was so epic!"

Static rang in his ears. Fluixon fell. Fluixon fell. 

He's dead.

Saparata ripped the other player's hand off of his shoulder. He began walking down the stairs in a trance. He's dead. It's over.

A tidal wave of relief washed over him, threatening to pull him under. But there was regret, too.

I should have killed him.

"Hey! Where are you going?" The player called, their tone concerned. Their voice barely registered in Saparata's head. His enemy was dead. Sure, it wasn't by his hand, but what did it really matter? He had achieved his goal. He finally gotten his revenge. For all the pain and suffering Flux had put him through, for all the innocent leaders he had murdered-- in the end, he had paid the ultimate price. 

The sun's dying rays shone down on the castle, bathing the victors in glory. The celebrations went on long into the night. Cass tried to pull him aside to talk, but Saparata didn't stay. There was no point.

Flux was gone.

For some reason, the thought wasn't as comforting as he thought it would be.

--

Saparata didn't remember how he got back to Island 2. All he remembered was getting out of bed the next morning feeling like shit.

I need to leave, he thought. He had stayed with the Cass Coalition for the night-- Cass had been kind enough to offer, and he didn't have anywhere left to call home on Island 2-- but paranoia had been eating away at the last dredges of his sanity. These people were hunting him down just a few days ago. Just a few days ago, they had sent armies after his head. Kill on sight.

So, yeah. They were nice people, but he didn't really feel safe with them.

He ran into Cass at the gate.

"Leaving already?" She asked, glancing at the sack he was carrying over his shoulder. Her eyes were sad, but she didn't sound surprised.

"Yeah." He offered her a small smile. "Thanks for the hospitality, Cass. It really means... it means a lot to me." 

Cass scoffed. "I imagine it does, after all that time you spent on the run." She paused for a moment before meeting his eyes. "I'm sorry."

Saparata's eyes widened as she bowed. "Woah, woah. There's no need for that."

"No." She insisted, standing up straight again. "I failed. We failed, as leaders. We nearly sentenced an innocent man to death. And all the manhunts-"

"Hey, I already told you. It's fine." Saparata interrupted. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Look. You guys were the ones who brought the truth to light. If not for the Cass Coalition, I would still be on the run. I couldn't be more grateful for all of your help." 

Cass looked like she wanted to interrupt, but he continued speaking. "And I understand why all of you made the decisions you did. Six leaders, killed right in front of you. The trap was in my house. I would've come to the same conclusion as you. The obvious culprit was me. Flux-" His voice cracked a little.

He cleared his throat. "Fluixon carried out an almost flawless plan. But you guys proved my innocence, and now I can finally go home. So thank you, Cass." He smiled. "Thank you for everything."

Cass stared at him quietly before finally nodding. She sighed. "Okay, Saps." She smiled back. "Just...let me know if you ever need anything, okay? The Coalition has many ties, and the other leaders share the same sentiment as me. Whatever it is, we'll get it done."

Saparata laughed. "That's a big promise. I'll hold you to it." 

"Of course. I know you like your secrets, so I won't ask where you're going. But visit anytime, alright?"

Saparata hummed. Traveling the world, visiting the world... that could be fun, someday. But he had always been more suited for a quiet life. For now, he just wanted to rest and recover.

"Bye, Cass." He shifted his sack onto his other shoulder as he walked away. He didn't look back.

--

Saparata sailed back to his old island. But the moment he set foot on the familiar, sandy beach, he knew he couldn't stay. 

There were just too many bittersweet memories. Memories of purple eyes crinkling into mischievous crescents, golden epaulets glinting in the sun. The mirthful laughter of his friend, ringing like bells in his ears. The idiot stubbornly refusing to part with his stupid black frock coat in ninety degree weather, and then throwing a fit when sand got all over the fine fabric. Seriously, who wore a frock coat to the beach? 

The bad memories, too. God. There was no way Saparata could bring himself to set eyes on that house. The sound the of the stalactites as they made contact with bone, skulls bursting open, the screaming. 

He had never seen so much blood before. He wondered if anyone had ever cleaned up the blood after that trap. 

Saparata quickly made up his mind. He was going to find somewhere else to settle, somewhere remote and far, far away.

Island one, perhaps. He could live in the woods near the volcano. The area around the volcano had been deserted after the fall of Infernus, so there wouldn't be anyone to bother him, and the tales of netherite buried within its depths sparked a hint of curiosity inside him. He had always liked a good adventure. 

There was also Flux, of course. His heart twisted again. Even for all of his wrongs, Fluixon was once his friend. There was nothing to bury. But he could make some kind of monument. 

Well, at least I have a new reason to live. Saparata made his way back to the boat. He had a long journey ahead of him.

Chapter Text

When had it all started?

Saparata remembered that fateful day very well. That bright, summer day on the coastline, when he had first met Fluixon.

He had been wandering around aimlessly. It was day one on the island for everyone, so most people were getting basic materials and gearing up. It occurred to him that he should probably do the same. But resources were so abundant on this island, and he didn't really feel like-

The sound of boisterous laughter interrupted his train of thought. "Flux, get over here! I found a 40 vein!" 

Ah. There were players up ahead. By the sound of it, they were mining. Saparata doubted they had any bad intentions, but he really didn't feel like socializing, so he ducked behind and tree and prepared to slink away into the shadows. 

"A 40 vein of diamonds?! No way." A voice responded, sharp and incredulous. "You're lying. Let me see!"

40 diamonds? Against his better judgement, Saparata peeked out curiously. 

He never should have set eyes on that man. 

A sideways glance, and he was lost. Brilliant violet eyes locked with his, stealing the air from his lungs. The stranger's gaze was oppressive, like daggers nailing him to the tree. There was no kindness in those eyes, only cold, hard logic. Slitted pupils, like a snake's. Poised to strike.

Saparata stood frozen as the other player assessed him. He didn't even understand how he had been caught. 

"Who are you?" The player asked, standing up. Straight black hair, save for his slightly wavy bangs. He wore a long black frock coat with golden epaulettes, the kind a general would wear. It would look ridiculous on anyone else, but on him, it looked impossibly classy.

They frowned. "Hello? I said, who are you?" 

Saparata blinked. He hadn't even realized he had been staring. 

"Sorry, sorry. I'm Saparata- Saps." He said quickly, raising his hands in a surrendering gesture. "I'm just passing by."

"A passerby?" The player scoffed. "Then why were you sneaking around like a little rat?"

Ouch. "Hey, I wasn't sneaking around." He defended weakly. "I was just... scouting." It wasn't a total lie. He was looking for a place to build his vacation home, away from all the people and the politics.

Purple eyes narrowed imperceptibly. "Well, you do look pretty broke. Do you even have any armor?"

Saparata looked down. "Uh. No?"

"Who's this?" The player who had found the 40 vein joined in the conversation, glancing at him curiously. "Do you know him, Flux?"

"Nope." The player- Flux, apparently- responded, popping the p. "I don't think he's much of a threat, though."

"Hm." The other player regarded him carefully. "Wanna join us?"

"Wha- Snowbird!"

"Don't be so paranoid, Flux! He's clearly a noob!" Snowbird gestured at Saparata. "Just look at him! He has a sticky note stuck to his face. What could he possibly be scheming?"

He wasn't sure if he should feel offended or honored by the offer. Surely Flux wouldn't agree, right? He turned to Flux pleadingly. I don't look that dumb, do I?

Flux stared at him for a second more. He definitely didn't trust him. Saparata stiffened, preparing for a fight. He had no gear, but they were on the coast. He could still make a clean getaway with his boat.

The tense moment passed. "Whatever." Flux sighed, exasperated. "But he's coming with me. I want to keep an eye on him."

Snowbird laughed. "Fair, fair."

"I never even agreed to this!" Saparata muttered. "I'm not a noob. I'm a seasoned veteran."

"Are you coming or not?" Flux rolled his eyes. He and Snowbird began walking back towards their mine.

Saparata hesitated. This wasn't part of his plan. He had promised himself he wouldn't get involved with any players this time. He should leave right now. Get on his boat and set sail for one of the subsidarary islands of island two. Find a place where no one would bother him. He wouldn’t need to belong to any empire. He would never have to deal with fancy politics and double-crossing allies and backstabbing traitors ever again.

He would never see this guy again. 

Damn you and your weird purple eyes, Flux.

“Wait!” He called, stepping over a bush. Flux seemed surprised, but Snowbird beamed at him. “Let’s go.”

–-

Bang! Bang!

Saparata woke up panting, like he had been running a marathon. His clothes were drenched through with sweat.

He gripped the sheets on his mattress, its soft texture grounding him back to reality. He was in his house, in the forest. Well, house was being a bit generous. Hut would be the more accurate descriptor.

He hadn’t had any nightmares the first night, when he was still staying with the Cass Coalition. For the first time since the betrayal, his sleep had been dreamless, smooth and easy. 

He thought his revenge would give him peace. But now, in the depths of the forest, familiar purple eyes came back to haunt him.

“Oh, for heaven’s…” He trailed off, dragging himself up. Haven’t you tormented me enough for one lifetime? You’re already dead, so why are you still haunting me? 

He could see Fluixon’s memorial outside his window, stalagtites gleaming white in the moonlight. There was no point in dwelling on the past. He knew that. 

Bang!

The sound was coming from his door. Saparata frowned. So that hadn’t been a figment of his imagination. But who could possibly be knocking? No one should have known about his new residence. And at this hour, too. It could be a thief, he supposed. But what kind of thief would knock before entering?

Bang! Bang!

He got out of bed, putting on his amror with practiced ease. He picked up his sword from its stand on his way to the door.

Another knock. The flimsy wooden board shook with it’s impact. Saparata really regretted making his house out of wood instead of something more durable. He felt like the first pig from The Three Little Pigs . Any second now, the wolf might blow down his house with a puff of air.

“Who is it!” He called warily, standing in front of the doorway. His hand moved to the hilt of his sword. If he was a pig, at least he was an armed one.

A tense moment of silence passed. There was no answer, but he heard the sounds of a scuffle. 

He sighed, reaching for the doorknob. His curiousity would be the death of him, one day. 

He was greeted by a wretched sight. “You!” Thomas gasped, his face twisting into a sneer. Blood dripped onto the ground, forming a pool on Saparata’s doorstep. But Thomas didn’t have any visible wounds. 

The blood wasn’t his. It was coming from the person he was carrying on his back.

“Fluixon.” Saparata breathed, his sword clattering to the ground. He could hardly recognize his nemesis. Burn scars riddled half of his face, and his coat was riddled with holes and soot. For as long as he had known him, Fluixon had been untouchable. A master tactician in his flawless black coat, purple eyes cold as he looked down on the masses. He was never one to get his own hands dirty. Not when he had Thomas and Snowbird and so many other goons to do the dirty work for him.

Saparata would know. He had been one of them, played for a fool by the man in front of him. Once, he would’ve done anything for just a hint of a smile, sharp incisors peeking through pale, thin lips.

Then he had been discarded. Used as a scapegoat and left for dead. 

Thomas huffed. “Just my luck. Of all the people it could’ve been, it’s actually you.” He spat, voice bitter. “Who coops themselves up in an ugly hut in the middle of nowhere after such a glorious victory? Fucking psycho.”

Saparata recoiled, his face incredulous. “You have a lot of gall, you know that? How are you two still alive?”

“You’re going to kill us anyways. Why should I be polite towards my killer?” He countered.

“What, you don’t have any tricks left after escaping from the volcano?” Saparata picked up his sword. For all his bravado, Thomas seemed cowed by the gleam of the diamond blade. Saparata was surprised he hadn’t dropped Fluixon and ran. But Fluixon always had a knack for picking out the loyal ones.

Suddenly, there was a muted groan. Saparata’s eyes darted to Fluixon’s face. Blood dripped slowly from his head, and his breaths seemed to be getting shallower and shallower. Even for someone as cunning as him, escaping the volcano seemed to have taken its toll. He wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Give him here.” Saparata said without thinking.

Thomas seemed to know he was out of options. He set Fluixon on the floor gently, his touch disgustingly reverential. “What are you going to do with him?”

“I won’t torture him, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Saparata rolled his eyes. “I’ll give him a fair fight once he’s recovered. I want… I want to do it myself.” In a way, he was glad Fluixon wasn’t dead. Perhaps if he killed him with his own hands, those cursed purple eyes would no longer haunt him.

“You’ll let me go?”

Now, if that wasn’t the funniest thing he had heard all week. Saparata laughed, loud and shrill and slightly unhinged. To his satisfaction, Thomas flinched. 

“You think I’d let you get off scot free, after everything?” He giggled. Thomas' confused expression made him laugh even harder. He doubled over, gasping for breath.

Then, just as abruptly, he stopped. “No, Thomas." He whispered, silver eyes glinting like steel. "I’m going to hunt you down to the ends of the earth. So if I were you, I would start running.”

“...tch.” Thomas still seemed torn, but in the end, his fear for his own life won over. He cast Fluixon one last glance, the obedient dog that he was. Then he turned tail and ran, vanishing back into the depths of the forest.

It was quiet again. 

A light breeze rustled the branches of the trees. The warm glow of the fireflies illuminated Fluixon’s familiar visage, softening his sharp edges. But when Saparata looked at him, all he felt was hatred, flooding through his veins like ice.

No, that wasn't quite the truth.

He should just kill him right now, put an end to this convoluted tale. But after all this time, the memories still clouded his judgement.

No one like you, Saps. No one.

I love you.

He sighed, bending down. “Let’s get you inside.”

Chapter Text

Getting Fluixon inside was the easy part. Saparata removed his ugly warden-trim armor, scooped him up with ease, and carried him to the bedroom. The idiot was concerningly light. 

Probably not much to eat in the volcano, huh?  Saparata thought, leaving his nemesis in an unceremonious heap on the bed. Serves him right. I had to fight off giant bloodsucking mosquitoes for a month when I was still on the run.

The problem came afterwards. If Saparata had regen pots, dumping a bottle down the bastard’s gullet would’ve been easy. But as it was, all he had were golden apples. And Fluixon was barely breathing. With a sigh, he crafted a bowl and quickly started on the tedious task of mashing apples into paste. 

And then, the monumental task of getting Fluixon to eat. 

“Wake up.” Saparata tried, holding the bowl in one hand and shaking Fluixon’s shoulder with the other. To his exasperation, the idiot remained stubbornly unconscious. Stupid, annoying bastard. 

“Wake up, I said. If you don’t eat this, you’re gonna die.” He repeated, shaking him harder. “Do I seriously have to feed you?”

Still no response. He snorted. “I really should’ve just left you outside to rot.”

Whatever. He picked up the spoon and brought it to Fluixon’s mouth, resisting the urge to just dump the bowl’s contents down his shirt. 

Saparata had gotten fed like this, once. He had accidentally gotten sick while working on his vacation home. There was a storm forecasted that day, but he was almost done gathering all of the materials. 

Just a couple more stacks, he told himself. That was how Flux had found him collecting sand in the rain, sneezing and feverish and drenched from head to toe.

“Are you an idiot? ” Flux had hissed, seizing him by the shoulder just in time for his knees to buckle. It had been an embarrassing incident. But seeing Flux’s concerned expression— concern, for him! Him alone!— had made it worth it. 

Surprisingly, his friend wasn't a bad cook. Saparata still remembered the rich flavor of the chicken noodle soup that Flux had fed him, one painstaking spoonful at a time. 

Now, with the roles reversed, he really wondered how the guy had managed it. Each bite was a whole process: scoop up some apple sauce, pry open his mouth, insert the spoon, close his mouth, force him to swallow. Saparata was about to lose his mind. 

After the bowl was finally empty, Saparata went into the bathroom to grab a clean cloth. By the time he came back, the golden apple’s effects were kicking in. Fluixon’s breathing had evened out, and he was no longer bleeding everywhere, which was good. Unfortunately, it was too late for Saparata’s white blankets. He knelt down beside the bed, trying not to think about all the laundry he would have to do later. 

He used the cloth to dab at Fluixon’s face, cleaning off all the ash and blood that had coagulated there. Burn marks ran up from along his left arm to the side of his face. Fluixon had always cared for keeping up appearances, but there was nothing Saparata could do about that; gapples didn’t help with scarring. 

He should just be grateful that he’s still alive. Saparata rolled his eyes. How the man even survived that fall into the lava was beyond him. Fluixon was tenacious like a cockroach; he simply refused to give up and accept his death, no matter what the odds were against him. Once, Saparata had admired that about him. Now, it was just annoying.

When he was finally done, he felt completely drained, mentally and physically. He got up with a groan, stretching his sore arms.

“Such a handful, even when you’re unconscious.” Saparata mused. He bent down to check the sleeping man’s pulse. It was steady. A good sign.

Hesitantly, he reached out, brushing raven-black bangs out of the way as he pressed the back of his hand against Fluixon’s forehead. His skin was cool to the touch. He seemed a bit pale, too. Probably all the blood he had lost from his head injury.

“Stupid,” Saparata whispered, letting his hand drop.  “Let’s hope you didn’t lose too many brain cells from that fall. Or killing you won’t be very satisfying.”

He wondered what kind of expression Fluixon would make when he saw him. Fear? Anger? Maybe even regret?

Knowing Fluixon, he would probably just flash him one of those infuriating smirks. Perhaps this was even a part of his plans. 

Saps, you idiot! He imagined him saying. Even after I betrayed you, you’d still come crawling back to my feet. I knew it. I knew you couldn’t bring yourself to kill me. You are a fool, through and through.

“I’m not a fool. I could kill you any time I want to.” Saparata answered out loud.

You’re speaking to air, and you claim you’re not a fool? Imaginary-Fluixon cackled. 

“...Okay, fair point.” Saparata stood up, patting off his pants as he turned around. He retrieved the bowl from the ground, intending to drop it off in the sink along with the rag. He could deal with cleaning up after himself later.

A hoarse voice came from behind him. “Who…are you?”

The bowl in his hand clattered to the ground. Saparata froze like a deer in headlights. The words didn’t even register at first, overshadowed by the sheer incredulity he felt. No way. He was at death’s door half an hour ago. How could he be up already?

Dread pooled in his gut as he slowly turned around. Wary purple eyes greeted him, and he forgot how to breathe. It was like their first meeting all over again. He had almost forgotten how beautiful those eyes were, fierce and raw and devoid of their owner’s gilded lies. 

And then, their question registered.

“What???” Saparata asked dumbly.

Fluixon frowned, his brows furrowing in displeasure. “Don’t make me repeat myself.” He rasped, in that stupid haughty tone of his. “I said, who the hell are you?”

The audacity of this guy! Saparata’s eye twitched as he tried to formulate a response. “You- what do you mean, who are you? You don’t remember me?” His response came out more desperate than he would’ve liked, but personally, he thought it was impressive enough that he wasn’t completely breaking down with his world literally crashing down around his ears.

“Remember…you?” Fluixon raised a hand to his face, touching his forehead gingerly. “I’ve never seen you in my life!” He hissed.

Memory loss? That’s what he’s going with? 

Saparata wanted to laugh. The timing was just too convenient for it to be true. This had to be some trick, some new ploy to get him to let his guard down. But he was used to Fluixon’s little games by now. He wouldn’t let himself get played again.

He shifted into a combat stance, ready to retrieve his sword from his inventory at any notice. “Fluixon.” Saparata began, his tone deceivingly calm. “I think we both know we’re beyond the realm of talking things out. Take out your sword, and-”

Suddenly, Fluixon doubled over with a groan. Out of reflex, Saparata moved to steady him. But his hand passed straight through his shoulder. 

“What?” Saparata’s eyes widened as Fluixon’s entire figure seemed to flicker. Glitch. 

Fluixon’s eyes flashed with the savagery of a cornered beast who had nothing left to lose. “Get away from me!” He snarled, slapping Saparata’s hand away. His voice sounded oddly vulnerable.

Saparata jerked back like he had been bitten. “What’s going on with you?” He demanded, utterly confused. This wasn’t how their confrontation was supposed to go. Nothing was going to plan. 

But Fluixon wasn’t listening. He stumbled to his feet. “I don’t know who the hell you are, but I’m leaving.” He declared, taking a wobbly step forward. Following his glorious declaration, he proceeded to trip over his own coat and fall flat on his face.

Saparata watched, unimpressed. “Wow, great play.” He clapped sarcastically. “Real scary. Get up.”

Surprisingly, Fluixon didn’t respond. Saparata prodded him with the tip of his boot. Apparently, the guy wasn’t as fully recovered as he made it out to be. That made more sense; gapples were great healing, but even they didn’t work that fast. He shouldn’t have been able to wake up in the first place.

“What was that?” Saparata muttered, still aghast at the series of events that had just played out. Had Fluixon actually been glitching? As if memory loss wasn’t unbelievable enough. What is going on with this server?

Saparata tugged at his long braid. It was a nervous habit of his that he had never quite managed to fix. This entire thing was just getting more and more complicated. He had never asked for any of this. All he had ever wanted was to live in peace, away from all the stupid politics and messy betrayals. But somehow, he kept getting dragged into these things. 

The problem, he decided, was Fluixon. A fair fight? A noble end? What wishful thinking. Forget revenge; this man was a magnet for trouble, and he needed to get rid of him now, before he caused an even bigger crisis.

But would killing Fluixon really solve the problem? Or would the glitches continue to spread across the server?

No, why was Fluixon glitching in the first place?

This was way too much for him to handle. Saparata sighed, pulling out his communication device. Surely the server admin would know how to deal with this. All he had to do was wait.

Saparata → Ish: We have a problem.

Chapter Text

Ish arrived without warning, as usual. 

Saparata really should’ve been desensitized to it by now. But he still nearly jumped out of his skin when the admin materialized out of thin air like the world’s freakiest enderman.

“Ish!” He yelped, his heart settling back into place. “Geez, don’t scare me like that.”

Ish chuckled. “My bad, my bad. Long time no see, Saps.” He beamed, hovering a couple inches off the ground.

Saparata had a good impression of the server’s owner. Ish was a good guy– friendly, intelligent, and most importantly, fair. Rare qualities for someone with access to console. 

Usually, Ish didn’t meddle with the server’s affairs beyond what was necessary. He preferred to spectate instead, occasionally darting in to ask a few questions. Saparata had no idea what his true motives were for conducting these interviews. But most admins had some sort of weird quirk, so it wasn’t too surprising that Ish had his own hobby.

The only times he did step in, he did it to enforce the rules. Banning exploiters, fixing bugs, things of that sort. Saparata was pretty sure Fluixon’s glitching fell under that umbrella, hence why he called the admin over.

“I like your new house.” Ish glanced around, his tone lighthearted. “It’s definitely a bit shabbier than your old one, but it has a nice cozy vibe to it. A good place to retire after all that drama, eh?”

“Well, yes. That’s the intention,” Saparata huffed. “But, Ish-”

The server owner’s eyes widened. “Actually, now that I think about it, I haven’t done a post-war interview with you.” He interrupted. “Care to answer a few questions?”

“I would love to, Ish, but there’s a big problem on our hands.” Saparata grimaced. “Turn around.”

Ish frowned, spinning around in midair to face the bed. His face lit up at the sight of Fluixon. “Oh, Flux is still alive!” He grinned. “That little sneak. I can’t believe this. How did he survive the siege? This is so good for the narrative!”

Saparata furrowed his brows. Ish was a great guy, he really was. But sometimes, it was impossible to decipher what he was trying to say. Overarching narrative, subscribers, viewership, ad revenue…the mind of an admin was truly incomprehensible.

“And he’s with you now. You actually didn’t kill him?” Ish asked, his eyes wide at the implication. He turned back to face him. “The viewers are going to eat this up!”

“Uh, yeah, right.” Saparata nodded along numbly, pretending like he understood what Ish was talking about. He didn’t want to lose the admin’s favor. “Anyways. I called you here because Fluixon is allegedly missing his memories-”

“Oh my god, the memory loss trope! The fanart for this is going to be…” Ish murmured, horrorstruck. “Ahem. My bad, carry on.”

“—and he seems to be afflicted with some kind of glitch.” Saparata finished, smoothly ignoring whatever nonsense Ish was on about now. “Which, you know. Could have catastrophic consequences for the server.”

“Catastrophic consequences! Of course!” The admin agreed cheerily. Then the words seemed to register. 

Ish seized him by the shoulder, his eyes turning serious. “Fluixon is glitching. You’re absolutely sure about this?”

Saparata winced. Ish quickly dropped his hand, noticing his discomfort. “Are you hurt?” 

“No. You just caught me by surprise.” Saparata brushed it off. “Anyways, I’m sure. My hand went right through him earlier, and his entire body sort of…” 

He gestured vaguely. “...it’s hard to describe. I don’t know if he’s intentionally using some kind of exploit, but I didn’t want to risk killing him before getting to the bottom of this.”

“The last thing we want is for a bug to spread,” Ish agreed, frowning. “I’ll take a look.” He landed on the floor, walking over to the bed with a few quick strides. 

“Do you need me to leave?” Saparata asked.

“That would be appreciated. I might need to check his code,” the server owner affirmed, scrutinizing Fluixon with a thoughtful look in his eyes. “It’s going to take a while. I’ll call for you when I’m done.”

Saparata nodded, stepping towards the door. “Okay. Just let me know if you need anything.”

He stepped into the living room, closing the door behind him. It had to be some kind of bug, right? He couldn’t imagine Flux stooping to the level of using exploits. But then again, Fluixon had done a lot of unimaginable things behind his back.

Who is he, really? Saparata wondered. The person he had thought he had known was Flux, with his clever mind and wily smile. His distant gaze– that man was always plotting something, some stupid prank or elaborate scheme. And his silver tongue. He could really talk his way out of any situation. 

Unfortunately, it didn’t matter. Since the beginning, there was only Fluixon. Flux had never existed.

Saparata ran a hand through his hair. There was no point in wasting more time thinking about this. Ish would deal with it, and everything would be fine.

Still, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was looming on the horizon.

--

“You can come in now!” Ish’s voice called, a few hours later. 

Saparata was in the middle of making some tea. He desperately needed the caffeine. It was already almost morning, and he had resigned himself to the fact that he wasn’t getting any more sleep. 

He walked back to the bedroom. To his surprise, Fluixon was awake again. Saparata found him sitting up against the headboard, his ragged coat wrapped tightly around himself. Ish sat on the bed next to him, his hands folded on his lap. His eyes were closed, like he was deep in thought. If he heard Saparata enter, he showed no indication of it.

Calculating eyes flickered to Saparata’s face as he stepped inside. Fluixon’s body language reminded Saparata of a flighty bird, but he seemed to have given up on trying to run with an admin present. 

Saparata set his cup on the small table in the corner. “Everything alright?” He asked tentatively. 

Ish hummed, opening his eyes. “Well, I figured out the problem.” 

“You did?” Saparata asked, pleasantly surprised. 

“Pretty much.” Ish stood up, dusting off his hands. “I took a look. As we suspected, there’s a bit of a problem with his code.”

“Oh, nothing illegal,” he added, seeing Saparata’s shocked expression. “I’m sure you would love to see Fluixon get banned. Unfortunately, it seems to be an issue from our end. Some parts of his code are corrupted.” Ish frowned. “It’s really quite strange. It certainly explains the memory loss, but I’ve never seen… Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter. I’ll have the devs look into it.”

Saparata blinked. “Corrupted?” He repeated uncomprehendingly. “Are you telling me that falling into the lava damaged his code? How does that happen?”

Ish shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know either, but don’t worry about it too much. We’ll get it fixed soon, okay? In the meantime, just take care of him for us for a month or two.” He nodded at Fluixon, who had been eerily silent throughout their entire conversation. 

“You want me to take care of him?” Saparata wondered if he was hearing things. Ish knew how much he hated Fluixon. He had seen everything Fluixon had put him through, had seen him at his lowest. How could he ask such a thing, after everything he had witnessed?

“No. No, I can’t,” He finally said, his voice bitter and raw with resentment. His hand itched for his sword. “I’ve already held back for too long. If I have to wait another month…”

“You want to kill me.” Fluixon suddenly interjected. “You’re trying to get revenge for something.”

Saparata’s eyes shot to his face. His expression was startlingly calm. 

Ish also turned around. “So you’re not mute after all!” He exclaimed. “Fascinating. I was starting to think that the corruption had robbed you of your speaking capabilities too. Why didn’t you say anything while I was checking your code?”

Fluixon shrugged, raising his hands in a helpless gesture. “Didn’t feel like it, I guess?”

Saparata snorted. “Acting dumb, making you underestimate him. I bet he wanted to see if he could glean any valuable information from console to blackmail you with.”

“Really?” Ish’s eyes widened. 

“No? I wouldn’t even understand any of that code gibberish. It’s not like I’m an admin.” Fluixon rolled his eyes.

Saparata huffed. “Someone’s in a sassy mood. Are we sure he doesn’t have his memories back?” 

“This is just my default state.”

Saparata really wondered how he had put up with this bastard for so long. One punch. Just one good punch in the face. Surely that would be fine.

Luckily, Ish stepped between them before things could escalate. “Saps, I know I’m asking a lot of you.” He began, sapphire eyes soft with sincerity. “After months of suffering, after everything you had to endure, you’ve come so close to your perfect conclusion. Fluixon’s life is literally in your hands. Asking you to delay your vengeance isn’t just unfair; it’s cruel.” He smiled sadly. “But just imagine the damage this kind of corruption could cause if it spreads to the rest of the server. Fluixon could be the first case in a line of many. If you kill him, we lose our only lead.”

Saparata hesitated. Sensing his uncertainty, Ish pressed on. “My admins and I will get to the bottom of this, I promise. Once we find out what’s causing the corruption, you can do whatever you want with him.” Fluixon didn’t seem very happy with that statement, but he didn’t interrupt. 

“You’ve worked so hard for this peace.” Ish concluded, his mouth set into a solemn line. “Please. Don’t let it be for nothing.”

The room sank into tense silence. Ish waited for him to answer, his gaze heavy with the weight of expectation. Fluixon was watching him too, his expression an unreadable labyrinth. 

Saparata knew what he would’ve chosen, if he was in his place. But Saparata wasn’t a hero. Who was he kidding, really? Prestige and justice meant nothing to him. Was it really so selfish to choose to go home at the end of the day? To spend his last night in the arms of the one he loved, while the world burned around them?

“What did I do to you?” Fluixon’s voice tugged him back into the present. He looked confused. Concerned, even.

Saparata wanted to laugh at his sheer ignorance. Of course he was the one who got it easy. So many deaths, so much blood on his hands, but he wasn’t the one haunted by his guilty conscience. Fluixon had just gone and forgotten everything, his crimes and their past along with it. 

It wasn’t like their long history had ever stopped Fluixon from betraying him. Saparata knew that, but he was surprised by how much it still hurt.

“I’m serious.” Fluixon furrowed his brow, clearly not one to be ignored. “ Tell me. ”

“You betrayed me.” Saparata snapped. “Happy?”

“Ohhh." A long pause. "Shit.”

Saparata didn’t have time to enjoy the flabbergasted look on Fluixon’s face. Ish was still waiting patiently for a response, his shoulders loose and his stance relaxed. He seemed confident in knowing what Saparata would choose.

It was a little annoying, actually. I'm not that predictable, am I?

“Is there any chance he’ll get his memories back?” Saparata asked.

Ish thought about it. “Mmm. Hard to say. Since you’re going to kill him, it doesn’t really matter. But his code is corrupted, not deleted, so it should be possible.” He eyed Saparata hopefully. “So. You’ll do it, then?”

Saparata sighed. “Can’t you bring him with you? Or like, give him to Westhelm or the Cass Coalition to take care of?”

“Hey, did you forget that I’m the owner of this server? I have my own duties to take care of, and my admins are all busy with their own things. This is the busiest time of the year for us!” He threw up his hands. 

“As for your second suggestion, are you crazy? Schpood would have his head on a stick in the colosseum within the week. Cass is more reasonable, but her citizens are rash. There’s no telling what they’ll do if they find out that Fluixon is still alive.” Ish shook his head. “No, no. The best option is for him to hide here with you.”

“What makes you think that I won’t lose my temper?” Saparata was grasping for straws. “What if I kill him in a fit of rage?”

Ish seemed surprised. “You?” He chuckled. “Oh, Saps. You are many things, but impulsive isn't one of them.”

“You don’t know that.” Saparata protested weakly. 

“I do, actually. I’m always watching, remember?” Ish paused. “That sounds a bit creepy, huh. In any case, I trust you. Just make sure he doesn’t escape. He is   quite the slippery one.” 

“Gee, thanks.” Fluixon grumbled. “I’m still here, by the way.”

“Oh, we know.” Ish grinned. He glanced down at his imaginary watch. “Wow, would you look at that! Time really flew. Looks like it’s time for me to go.” 

“Wait! There has to be a better alternative!” Saparata insisted, wracking his brain. “You can’t do this to me. A whole month? I’d lose my mind!”

“Sorry, my friend.” Ish smiled apologetically. “This is the last time, I promise. After this, you can have a nice, long rest.”

“Ha. That’s a scam if I’ve ever heard one.” Fluixon commented. 

Saparata glared at him. “Ha ha. Very helpful.”

“Aww, don’t be like that. I seem to remember you two were quite the pair of close friends back then.” Ish laughed. “I’ll try to visit in a couple of days. Try not to tear each other apart till then, alright?”

With that, the admin vanished into thin air. Saparata stared blankly at the spot where Ish had been standing, trying to bring the admin back by sheer force of will. Unfortunately, nothing happened.

Fluixon cleared his throat. “Well, friend. Looks like we're stuck together. I suppose some reintroductions are in order?”

Chapter Text

Saps didn’t anticipate spending so long on the coast. He’d gone mining with Flux and Snowbird on a whim. But there were so many diamonds that it seemed a waste not to linger for a while.

So, he stayed. 

Their days were long and tiring. After the first mining expedition, Saps got to meet the rest of the gang. Thomas, Flux’s right hand man, always ready to back his friends up. Gotoga, who seemed to have a concerning obsession with traps. Snowbird with his friendly disposition, and Hvyrotation with his intimidating stature. They bonded over dark caves and near-death encounters with creepers. Flux still seemed a little suspicious of him, but by the end of the week, Saps would’ve trusted any one of them with his life.

After sunset, things slowed down. Saparata remembered the hot, sleepless nights, sweat dripping down his neck as mosquitoes buzzed in his ear. The conditions were miserable, but at least he’d had company. Apparently, Flux was also a light sleeper. 

The first night, Saps found him by the shore. He cut a dark, lonely figure against the moonlit waves, his expression hidden by the shadows as he gazed into the sea.

Flux shot Saps a baleful look as he walked up beside him, evidently disgruntled by his sudden appearance. But for some reason, he didn’t shoo him away. 

It became a sort of routine. They’d grab some spirits and run down to the beach to while their time away. Those carefree nights were the best of Saparata’s life. Back then, there was no war looming over their heads, no silly disputes or political drama. It was just them. Chatting under the stars, their voices hushed and excited, the zingy taste of citrus wine still sharp on his tongue as they questioned each other about anything and nothing at all. 

I was certain you were up to no good when we first met, Flux had confessed one day, his polished sarcasm giving way to something softer in the quiet of the night. You could’ve been a spy, maybe. But Snowbird was right. You’re too stupid for that.

He had laughed, too exhilarated to be offended. Hmm. Then, what do you think of me now?

Flux hummed, leaning closer to whisper in his ear. His breath was sweet with the scent of grapefruit. Guess?

It was hard to make out his face in the shadowy lighting. His ebony hair blended in with the dark sky, but Saps thought his eyes were brighter than any star. 

–

Saparata gave Fluixon the one minute rundown.

“You’re Fluixon.” He pointed at Fluixon. “I’m Saparata.” He pointed at himself. “Two islands, one poor, one rich. A bunch of different nations. We come from the rich island. You were convinced the poor one was going to attack us. The other nations don’t agree. Leads into conflict, betrayal, stuff like that. You can figure out the rest for yourself.”

“...huh?” Fluixon looked completely lost.

Saparata picked up his teacup from the nightstand and took a sip. “That’s the jist of it.”

“You didn’t explain anything important.”

“I explained everything , actually.”

Fluixon furrowed his brow. “That’s the shittiest explanation I’ve ever heard. Tell me something useful.”

“Define useful.” 

Fluixon’s eyes bored into him. Saparata continued drinking his tea, savoring the aromatic jasmine flavor.

“Are you enjoying this?” He suddenly asked.

“Hmm?” 

“I’m asking you if wasting our time is your idea of revenge.” Fluixon scoffed. “Realistically, we’re on the same side here. My code is bugged, and we both want to patch it. Finding the cause of the corruption would be a lot easier if you helped me instead of antagonizing me.”

His words hit home. Saparata couldn’t deny that a small, vindictive part of him was enjoying being difficult. For once, he was the one holding all of the cards, and Fluixon was the one hanging onto his every word, scrambling to catch up. 

Was he being too petty? Fluixon wasn’t wrong; right now, they had a common goal. The sooner they resolved the glitch, the sooner he could return to his idyllic retirement life. But…

“You know I’m going to kill you as soon as Ish fixes the glitch, right?” Saparata thought he had made that abundantly clear. “Are you that eager to die?”

Fluixon smirked, sharp incisors flashing like a wolf’s. “No, but maybe I can change your mind?” he offered, his lilting tone sending a shiver of disgust up Saparata’s spine.

“Hah. As if you could ever atone for what you did.” 

“Okay, so atonement is off the table.” Fluixon pushed his blanket to the side and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He leaned forwards, voice lowering conspiratorially. “But don’t you want to know my reasons for doing what I did? Why I betrayed you?”

Saparata pressed his lips together tightly. “I know why you betrayed me. You wanted to be a hero. You deluded yourself into believing that you were pursuing peace, when all you were spreading was hatred and violence.” He swallowed. “You chose your ambition over me. And that’s all there is to it.”

“Ambition. Maybe. But how do you know that was all? I don’t suppose we ever sat down and had a nice friendly conversation afterwards.” He paused; an invitation for Saparata to correct him. But he was right. After the day of the assassinations, Saparata had never had a chance to speak one-on-one with him like this. Until now.

“My point is, you don’t have to give up your revenge. My life is literally in your hands. But we don’t have to spend the entire month at each other’s throats either.” Fluixon urged, his voice softening. “ Please , Saps. Help me.”

Saparata was quiet. The unfiltered emotion in Fluixon’s amethyst eyes rattled him to his core. He had never seen such a vulnerable look on his face before, not even back then. But this version of Fluixon seemed to have no qualms about letting his guard down, about setting his pride aside. 

A part of him was deeply fearful. Fluixon’s argument was good, but it was a little too good. His line of reasoning was cohesive, his sentences were measured and controlled; each perfectly delivered to elicit sympathy or to appeal to Saparata’s logic. Would an amnesiac really be capable of delivering such an eloquent argument? Saparata couldn’t help but wonder if Ish had made a big mistake. 

Trick or not, there was one thing Fluixon was right about. Right now, they shared a common goal. Saparata wouldn’t let his guard down, but there wasn’t much point in being petty by withholding information.

“It’s Saparata.” He finally said, standing up abruptly. “Not Saps. You don’t get to call me that.”

Fluixon seemed to deflate. “Is that a no, then?”

He looked so pathetic, it was almost funny. Saparata had the urge to ruffle his hair. “What did you expect, a hug and a kiss?” 

Fluixon shot him a glare, but he didn’t get up to retaliate. Despite being fully recovered mentally, his physical condition was still a tragic sight to look at. He would need a couple more days in bed, probably. Saparata didn’t want to waste any more golden apples on him.

He retrieved his empty teacup, stepping towards the door. He stopped before the doorframe before finally giving Fluixon a proper response. 

“I’ll help, but promise me this.” He turned, fixing Fluixon with a serious gaze. “When this is all over, no more running. We end this. One way or another.”

“Sure.” Fluixon murmured wistfully. “Where else could I go, anyways?”

Saparata didn’t have an answer to that. 

So, he left.

Chapter Text

“Why are you in my tent?”

Fluixon glanced up from the comfort of his blankets, book and quill in hand. Saps was standing by the entrance. His white hair was dusted in a fine sheen of gray. Presumably, he had just returned from a long day of mining. Flux found his exhausted visage rather amusing. 

“Hey, you’re back.” Flux went back to scribbling on the book, touching the tip of the quill’s feather to his chin as he scrutinized his work. He heard the sound of footsteps as Saps approached, but he was too entranced by his notebook to pay attention. 

“Mm, I am. Don’t dodge the question. Why are you here?”

Flux sighed. “Thomas snores like a lawnmower.” 

“And you think squeezing into my tiny tent is a better alternative?” Saps asked, exasperated.

“Anything is preferable to him.” To him, Thomas was a dependable friend. A close confidant, even. But seriously, his living habits were something to write home about. The only reason they had ended up sharing tents was because Flux had lost the rock paper scissors tournament with the rest of the goons. 

Sleeping in the same tent as him was simply impossible. The nighttime excursions with Saps were a lot more enjoyable, especially with the alcohol, but his lack of sleep was starting to catch up to him. So when he learned that Saps had also brought his own tent to sleep in, well… surely he wouldn’t mind some company, right?

“Thomas would cry if he heard you say that,” Saps said sympathetically, plopping down next to Flux. 

“It’s fine. He gets a big tent all to himself; what’s there to complain about?” Flux rolled his eyes. Saps was getting coal dust all over his mattress, but Flux didn’t have the heart to tell him off. He was being shameless enough by squatting in his tent. “Anyways, scoot over. You’re blocking the light.”

Instead of moving away, Saps leaned over to see. “Woah, you draw? Is that a house?”

“Sort of.” He was hatching out a preliminary design for Luminara’s town hall. Fluixon was pretty proud of it, actually, but he played it off. “It’s not much. Just a sketch, for now.”

“What are you talking about? This is amazing.” Saps shook his head disbelievingly. “You even labeled all the materials and the dimensions and everything. How long did this take you?”

“Uhh. Couple hours,” Fluixon replied absentmindedly. He tapped on his mouth with the feathery end of his quill as he deliberated over the entrance arch. Would a trefoil arch be too ostentatious? But it would be pretty cool…

“A couple hours?” Saps gaped. “Dude. You’re a genius!”

Flux grinned, basking in the praise. “Aren’t I?” 

His friend’s amazement rapidly transformed back into exasperation. “Never mind. Egotistical maniac.”

“You love me for it.” 

Saps tried to punch him. Flux grabbed his pillow, barely managing to wedge it between them in time. Their eyes met over his pillow, and they broke into giggles.

“Fuck off. You’re so stupid.” Saps laughed, shoving him away.

He arched his eyebrows. “You love-”

“Shut up!”

He laughed again. He couldn’t help it; his new friend was just so fun to rile up. “Don’t worry, I understand. I’m irresistible.” 

“You’re impossible,” Saps corrected. “So you design houses?”

Flux shrugged. “I dabble in architecture for fun, yeah. But I’m nowhere near the level of a professional builder.”

He couldn’t remember ever learning about it, to be honest. But when he picked up his quill, visions of ancient cities and magnificent castles came to him as naturally as breathing. A snowy empire, black halls devoid of warmth. The tall, empty throne, its golden upholstery splattered with blood. Jungle civilizations, with winding treehouses and beach resorts. The plains, wide and open, endless fields of windmills and wildflowers. Then, the heat of the desert. Looming pyramids, polished granite roofs. A Roman bathhouse. A white tower.

There were no people in his imaginary kingdoms. But so realistic they were in his dreams, each building so detailed that he could have sworn he had visited each place himself, touched the brick and iron and mortar that made up each wall. His imagination seemed to stem from a mysterious place. A world, long lost.

“Oh, so you do know how to be humble.” Saps grinned. “Could you do me a favor? I actually need some help with a build.”

Flux was intrigued. “Maybe. What is it?”

“My vacation home.” Saps sighed dreamily. “I’m going to build it far, far away, in a place where nobody will ever bother me.” 

“Talk about antisocial.” He commented.

“I’m not antisocial. I’m just being practical,” Saps protested. “You’ve seen the pamphlets too, right? A bunch of nations have been popping up lately. So much conflict already.” He shuddered. “It’s ridiculous. I’d much rather stay out of it.”

“Politics isn’t ridiculous.” Flux rebuked. “National affairs influence everyone. You can’t live like a hermit and expect it to not affect you; that’s just foolish.”

“Hmm. Wasn’t expecting you to be so passionate about this.” 

“I have to be, if I’m going to help lead a nation.”

Saps was surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah. Luminara.” It probably wasn’t the best idea to be telling Saps about confidential plans for his nation, but even for someone as paranoid as him, it was pretty clear that the guy didn’t have any bad intentions. His face was an open book. “I’m vice president, and 3BelowZero is president. We’re going to build a huge civilization once we find a place to settle. We’ve recruited a ton of people already.”

“Then what are you doing out here mining by yourself? Don’t you have, like, responsibilities?”

“My gang and I went ahead of the big group. We wanted to gather some resources, get some diamonds,” Flux explained lazily, like it should’ve been obvious. “The rest of them are looking for a place to settle. The president is leading the migration.” 

“When are you leaving?”

“I don’t know. 3BelowZero will send word when it’s time.”

“Oh,” Saps muttered quietly. He seemed a little crestfallen.

“Don’t worry. It probably won’t be for a while. Do you know how hard it is to keep seventy players in line?” He snorted. “I’m glad that’s not my responsibility. Our poor president has already lost all of his hair.”

Saps laughed. Flux smiled back, and for a second, nothing else mattered. “Anyways, I can totally help you design your house. Where are you going to build it?”

Saps blinked slowly, a smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t know yet. You would do that for me?”

“Of course. You asked me, didn’t you?” Flux rolled his eyes. “Consider it payment for letting me in your tent. I can’t go back to sleeping next to that lawnmower.”

“I never said you could stay here.”

“Details, details. So what were you thinking for the house?”

Saps rolled his eyes, but he didn’t protest. “Well, it’s a vacation home, so it has to be big. A grand hall, some rooms for guests. Some kind of sandstone for the walls would be nice, I guess? I was also thinking…”

–

Fluixon was in a pretty terrible spot. His memories were gone, his body ached, and he was stuck in a tiny hut with only his to-be executioner for company.

He still wasn’t completely sure what was going on. When he had first woken up, he was pretty sure he had been kidnapped, and he was ready to fight tooth and nail to escape from his creepy white-haired captor. But after waking up for the second time and meeting a literal god, he was told that apparently he was the evil supervillain who had started a war and betrayed his friends. As an added bonus, he had somehow managed to get his code corrupted, which could result in the whole server’s doom. Fantastic!

At least he wasn’t glitching anymore. Fluixon studied his hands: one metallic, the other hideous with burns. It was like seeing the hands of a stranger. 

Ambition, Saparata had said. What a silly reason to kill for. An even dumber thing to die for.

He had denied it earlier, but honestly? It wasn’t entirely out of character. And that scared him.

Who was I, exactly?

There was still hope. Despite getting totally screwed over by his past-self, Fluixon had managed to talk his way out of immediate death. Saparata had agreed to cooperate, hadn’t he? If Fluixon could just figure out what the hell was going on, maybe they could come to a resolution where he wouldn’t have to meet his untimely end. 

Still, when he had laid eyes on lunch, he had some second thoughts. 

“I thought we agreed on no more trying to murder each other.” He deadpanned. 

Saparata had the audacity to look genuinely confused. “What do you mean?”

Fluixon watched as he brought a spoonful of the most rancid smelling soup he had ever seen to his mouth. “No, don’t— oh my god. Why would you eat that.”

Saparata frowned. “It’s good. What are you talking about?”

The food was not, in fact, good. The bread was a strange combination of damp and crispy, and Fluixon was convinced Saparata had just tossed some weeds in a bowl and called it a day for the soup. 

Needless to say, he opted to go hungry for lunch. Missing one meal wouldn’t kill him.  Meanwhile, Saparata spent the afternoon in the bathroom. Allegedly, he was doing the laundry, but Fluixon didn’t believe a word. It was truly a miracle the guy hadn’t dropped dead on the ground yet. 

The rest of the day passed peacefully. Saparata continued battling his demons in the toilet while Fluixon scoured the chests for dinner materials. His earlier suspicions were proven when he found a bunch of dandelions in what he assumed to be the food sack. Together with some dried mushrooms, they made up the entirety of Saparata’s stock.

Seriously, how is this guy not dead? Fluixon wondered again. It seemed he had his mission hashed out for him: find some food and make an actual meal for the night. 

Except, he was in terrible shape. Really, really terrible. 

“Saparata!” He yelled. “Help!”

A groan came from the bathroom. “What is it?”

“The front door’s stuck!”

A pause. Then Saparata stepped out from the bathroom like a vengeful spirit, blood and soap suds dripping from the bedsheet in his hands.

Huh. Guess he wasn’t lying about the laundry after all. Fluixon winced. He was pretty sure it was his blood on the bedsheets. He felt a little bad that he was basically using Saparata as a glorified nanny, but not bad enough to help with the cleaning. He did not want to deal with blood under his nails. He was dirty enough as it was.

Actually, thinking about it now… when was the last time he had taken a bath? 

“The door’s not stuck. I locked it earlier.” Saparata frowned. “Why are you trying to go outside?”

Fluixon brandished the food sack. “To get us some actually edible food. Is there a shower in there?”

“In the bathroom? Duh.” Saparata rolled his eyes. “We have plenty of food. Don’t be picky.”

“Picky?” Fluixon repeated incredulously. Was wanting a meal that wouldn’t give him food poisoning too much to ask for? “Dude. You can’t expect us to live on mushrooms and flowers.”

“Well, you can’t go out on your own.” 

The implication was clear. What if you try to escape? As if he was going to last two seconds in the wilderness with his current physique. 

“Come with me, then.” Fluixon offered. “It’ll be fun. You can take a break from scrubbing out bloodstains from white sheets.”

Saparata huffed, but he went back to set down the laundry. “They’re your bloodstains, you know. You’re lucky they’re the only ones I have. Otherwise, you would be the one dealing with this shit.”

“Wow, how generous of you.”

“Right?” Saparata flicked a bloody soap sud at him.

Fluixon hurled a mushroom back in retaliation. It went wide, hitting the ceiling with a loud thunk. “Fuck.”

“Idiot.” Saparata laughed. It was a warm, genuine sound. The noise startled them both, and he stopped almost immediately. But Fluixon thought he had a nice laugh. Joy suited Saparata; it wrapped around him like sunlight on a summer day. Pure elation, easy and bright.

Saparata ducked his head. “Let’s go,” he said, just a little too quickly.

Fluixon inhaled softly. “...Yes. Let’s.”