Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

We're a thousand miles from comfort

We have travelled land and sea

But as long as you are with me

There's no place I'd rather be

-Rather Be, Clean Bandit

Joe had planned to spend his day in his room, studying for his upcoming practice exam. He had planned to only leave his desk and his books to go to the bathroom, and if he skipped a meal or forgot to refill his water, well that just meant less distractions. He was going to get a perfect score on this exam and rub it in Shinjiro’s face and not feel bad about ignoring his friends and he was going to be happy for once damnit.

But then his mother had burst into his room, manic light in her eyes and her hands up to her elbows covered in some kind of flour.

“Joe!” she squealed. She reached for him, pinching his cheeks and patting his hair and spreading her mess onto him. “Joe, Joe, come with me. Come into the kitchen. I have a surprise for you, Joe. Joe!”

Joe groaned and gently batted his mother away. He rubbed at his face, grimacing at the slightly grainy texture that was rapidly drying out. At least this didn’t feel like something that would stain. “You didn’t destroy the kitchen again, did you?”

His mother took a step back, then closer to him, then she ran into the hallway and tried to force all her fingernails into her mouth at the same time, grimacing at the taste that had built up under them. “I cle-I cleaned! But you have to come see, right now.”

Joe looked forlornly at his spread out study notes and sighed. Hopefully the mess in the kitchen wasn’t so bad that he would spend the rest of the day cleaning. He ran his fingers through his hair to start picking out the bits of crud as he followed his mother down the hall.

“Look, look!” she chirped, running ahead of him. “I made these for you and for your, your…” She cradled her arms in front of her, rocking them back and forth. “For your dog!”

“Mom, we don’t have a dog anymore. Remember what happened to Princess?”

To her credit, it did look like his mother had cleaned up after herself for once. The small kitchen didn’t have any massive splatters, the sink was empty, and there was a freshly washed pot on the stove to dry. There was none of the mystery powder that covered his mother on the countertops or the floor. In fact, the only thing that would hint to his mother’s activities, was a neatly wrapped bento box on the edge of the dining table.

“N-not Princess,” his mother whined. “For dog – bad dog!”

“Ok, ok, mom,” Joe placated. “What did you make for the dog?”

Instead of an actual answer, not that he was expecting one, his mother grabbed the bento and pushed it into his chest. “Share. You gotta share these, ok? I want you to share with your dog.”

The force of the bento almost knocked Joe over. His mother turned abruptly and started down the hallway, slumping against the wall and sliding slowly toward her room.

“Mom, did you get new pills again?” Joe called after her, frowning when she ignored him. “What’s the dosage on them? When did you start them?”

“Go,” she croaked, all energy gone from her voice. Whatever mania had been induced had apparently run itself out. “Go share… I’m going to sleep…”

Joe sighed as he walked to his own room. Was a depressive low better than a manic high? At least this way she wouldn’t be able to make another mess for him to clean up this time. He looked at the bento in his hands. It was heavy and warm, so hopefully it was actually edible.

He set the bento down and grabbed his D-Terminal. He scrolled through the handful of names before starting a new message to Shin.

“Mom’s acting weird. Manic cooking, depressed nap. New meds?”

The reply came far too quickly. Shin was probably skipping classes. “Yesterday. Acted the same. Anything good?”

Joe unwrapped the white and purple patterned furoshiki and peeked inside the box. Crammed in as tight as they could go were round, squishy dango. A sticky brown sauce oozed over the edge and Joe wiped it away with his thumb, cautiously tasting it.

Joe took a grainy picture and sent it. “The most dango I’ve ever seen in my life. Pretty good. Want any?”

“God no. Too sticky. Good luck eating all of them.”

“Jerk,” Joe mumbled, rolling his eyes. He wondered if he should try and message Shuu, but he was probably halfway between Kyoto and Shimane. No chance they’d be any good by the time he came home. If he came home again. “What dog did mom expect me to share these with?”

Bzzt

“bored and hngury. Vsiit me >:3”

Joe smiled fondly at the new message. Of course Gomamon would know how to spell “bored” correctly. He thought about the last time he’d been to the Digital World, staying behind with Cody to ensure he didn’t get sick while the other kids fought against Ken.

Gomamon was supposed to stay and guard the frozen area to the north of Server. But the other Children had forced Ken further inland, and he hadn’t seemed too concerned with losing a resourceless, frozen wasteland anyway. Gomamon still checked in with the Coelamon and Frigimon that patrolled the area, but he also tended to wander into warmer waters and bug the other Chosen Digimon. He must have run into Tentomon or Palmon and borrowed their D-Terminal to message him.

“Where are you?” Joe messaged back. “Aren’t you supposed to be in the ice region?”

“no. coelamn taking care

“>:3 @ >:0@ >:3 ..

“its me eatug cookies and leavngn crumbs”

Joe couldn’t bite back his smile. He missed his little demon of a Partner. And he did have a mountain of food he could never possibly eat on his own. He backed out of Gomamon’s messages and pulled up Shin’s name.

“I know you’re skipping. Can you come watch mom for a while? I’m going to share these with a friend.”

“OoOoOo meeting a gIrLfRiEnD?”

“I’ll kill you.”

“Oh right

bOyFrIeNd?”

“Get home, asshole.”

“Be there in five you big baby”

Joe was packing the last of his oversized bookbag when Shin walked in the door. He struggled to clip the flap closed as Shin gave a low whistle. “You finally running away?”

“No, just want to be prepared.” Joe lifted his bag with a grunt, the strap digging painfully into his shoulder, and grabbed the bento. “I might be home late, so make sure Mom gets her pills and doesn’t-”

“Doesn’t have a seizure, or swallow her tongue, or roll off her bed.” Shin frowned at Joe. “I can take care of her too, you know.”

“I know, I know. I guess I’m just…” Joe half shrugged, mostly because he could barely lift his other shoulder. “Used to helping people.”

Shin sighed. “Just go hang out with your friend and try to be selfish. For me?”

Joe lifted the dango with a smile. “I’ll eat these until I puke, how’s that.”

“Disgusting. Now go.”

“Are you sure this will be ok?” Cody asked as he opened the gate. Joe had gotten lucky that the boy was close by the elementary school. And if Joe had happened to mention how much he missed Gomamon and how he wished he could see him for a while, well, the kid did kind of owe him one for making him think his dad had finally kicked it. “Ken is still living there, and it’s hard to keep track of where he’ll be.”

“We’ll be fine,” Joe said. “We’ll stay close to a TV and the moment there’s any danger, we’ll call one of you. You remember Gomamon, right?” Cody gave a hesitant nod. He’d mostly been trying not to come down with pneumonia that day. “He can be a jackass sometimes, but he won’t let anything hurt me, much less a kid with an ego problem.”

“If you’re sure…”

Using the coordinates Gomamon gave them over the D-Terminal, Cody opened the gate. He made a strange noise at Joe when he lifted his Digivice. “How are you going to get back? Do you want me to wait here for you?”

“I’ve already taken up so much of your time,” Joe said. “TK’s visiting Matt right now, but he said he can come by in a few hours to reopen the gate.”

Cody opened his mouth again, but Joe quickly adjusted the bag on his shoulder and pointed his Digivice at the gate. He felt the pull at his chest, light filling his eyes, his body squeezing unpleasantly as he transferred into data. He felt kind of bad for avoiding whatever question Cody was going to ask next, but…

God, was he that much of a worrywart?

“Just be careful!” came Cody’s slightly staticky voice through the TV, as sensation and gravity reattached themselves to Joe’s body.

“I’ll be f-ugh!”

Joe was toppled over as a furry torpedo slammed into his chest, a nasally voice chirping over Cody’s warning, “Joe! Joe’s here!”

“Hello to you, too, Gomamon,” Joe groaned, flat on his back. He was lucky that the bento hadn’t dropped or that his bag hadn’t split open. In fact, he was pretty sure that the only reason he hadn’t fallen into an asthma attack was because of the thrumming Bond that warmed his whole body from head to toe when he was near the little seal. “Is my spleen comfortable?”

Gomamon hummed and wriggled, pressing down with all his weight on Joe’s stomach. Why was everyone in Joe’s life so mean to him? “Hmm, kinda lumpy. Not enough squish.”

Joe pinched Gomamon’s tail and laughed. “You’ve got enough squish for the both of us. Maybe I shouldn’t share my food with you.”

“Food?” Gomamon perked up, wagging his tail free. “Why didn’t you say so? Let me give you a hand, dearest friend.”

“You’ll never convince me that those are hands.” Joe sat up, sending Gomamon tumbling into his lap. He let the strap of his bag slide off his shoulder and looked over at the TV, nestled in the roots of a tree that flickered and shimmered rather strangely. Cody’s worried face was still watching him from the screen. Joe grinned, lifting Gomamon under the flippers and wiggling the indignant seal. “All good here, Cody. Don’t worry so much, believe me it’s not worth the stomachache.”

Cody didn’t look fully convinced, probably because Gomamon was whining about feeding Joe to the nearest Monochromon. But he closed the gate with a quick, “I’ll keep an eye on my D-Terminal if you need me!”

“Geeze, if that kid was seven feet tall, I’d never be able to tell you two apart,” Gomamon laughed, wriggling and kicking his back feet until Joe set him on the ground.

“Seven feet?!” Joe yelped as Gomamon nipped his ankle. “How tall do you think I am?”

“Taller than me as Gomamon, shorter than me as Ikakkumon. Now come on, you said you had food! I’m hungry!”

With Gomamon under one arm, his bag pulling down one shoulder, and holding the bento out as far as he could with the opposite arm to prevent a wriggling seal from grabbing it, Joe looked around the area for a good picnic spot. Gomamon had linked the coordinates for just outside a forested area somewhere along the Server coastline. They were at the top of a gentle slope with a mountain that peaked just above the tops of the trees behind them, and a jagged edge before them. The low rumble of the Net Ocean echoed against the rock, and Joe could smell the salt spray even as high up as they were. And, perhaps the best part, Joe couldn’t see a Control Spire anywhere near them.

“How did you find this place?” Joe asked. There was a thin copse of young trees not too far from the cliff’s edge that, with the help of wispy gray clouds that were slowly forming, had just enough shade from the late afternoon sun to be enticing. He would have preferred something closer to sea level, but he’d had enough tromping through the woods to last him a lifetime. And there was no telling if there was a television set on the beach or if they would have to come back here.

“Biyomon flies around here, sometimes, when the weather is nice,” Gomamon said. He wiggled and flapped his flippers until Joe set him down. The yellow grass was soft on his paws and stomach, so he didn’t mind crawling beside Joe as they approached the trees.

“Uh huh. She flew around and just happened to tell you about it?” Joe grinned down at his Partner. “You weren’t wandering away from the ice area to relax?”

“Me? Never! You know how much I hate to relax. I love working and studying and ignoring my friends all day.”

Joe groaned as Gomamon huffed. “You made your point, beast. I’ll try to visit more often.”

Gomamon cheered and Joe let his bag fall to the ground with a heavy whump! sound. He rotated his aching shoulder and sat down beneath the thickest of the thin trees. It bowed slightly with his weight as he pressed his back against it, but it held him upright enough and Gomamon clawing his way into his lap was enough of a distraction.

“What food did you bring? Did you buy it from Yolie’s store?” Gomamon’s nose twitched as he sniffed at the air. “It smells really good this time!”

“It’s dango,” Joe told him. He plopped the bento on top of Gomamon’s head, unfurling the furoshiki and letting it drape over the seal’s face. Gomamon whined and sputtered dramatically as Joe lifted the lid. The sticky sweet smell of the soy sauce glaze filled the air and Gomamon reached blindly for it. “Mom made them, so don’t be surprised if they don’t taste right.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, now gimme!”

Joe laughed as Gomamon crawled all over him, snatching up the bento with a triumphant hurrah! He’d managed to stuff three dango in his mouth by the time Joe could grab a hold of him, claws and muzzle already sticky. Joe tisked and Gomamon whined but, with the help of some disposable chopsticks, the snacks were evenly separated. Gomamon shoveled his into his mouth, making obnoxious chewing noises that Joe pinched the tips of his ears for, while Joe tentatively tried them.

They were surprisingly good. Soft and chewy, with a sauce that was more sweet than tangy. They tasted like something his grandmother used to make, and Joe sat back to savor his with a smile.

Chapter Text

The rolling of the ocean was relaxing, and the weight of his Partner sprawled across his ankles was calming. The sun was still warm, even as it began to drift lower in the sky, the clouds growing darker and beginning to converge. But Joe steadfastly ignored them as he pulled a study guide from his bag while Gomamon slowly groomed his claws and muzzle. There was still plenty of light to see by.

“Rain’s coming,” Gomamon murmured sleepily. His ears twitched at the low rumble of thunder that growled up the cliffside. “When is TK coming for you?”

Joe glanced at his Digivice. It was fairly early – earlier than when he would usually leave his cram school at least. And TK hadn’t been by to visit Matt for a while, so he wasn’t certain how long the blondes would take to catch up. And it wasn’t like he really wanted to go home and babysit his mother for the rest of the night. Not when Shin had volunteered to take over.

“It doesn’t look like it’ll storm that bad. I have an umbrella and a raincoat if I need them, anyway.”

Gomamon cracked open one eye to give Joe a flat stare. “Is that what you’re carrying around in that bag? It looks heavy enough to tear your arm clean off.”

“It’s not that much. Just some emergency supplies.” Joe shrugged. The clouds glowed and Joe paused to count before the thunder rolled, even as the wind began to pick up. “Besides, I got lucky with the emergency bag the last time we came to the Digital World.”

“You hated that thing, and you know it.” A droplet of water landed on Gomamon’s flipper and rolled off the fur. He waited for Joe to count between another flash of lightning and another rumble of thunder, his Tamer frowning as another raindrop landed on his glasses. “You tried to pawn it off on Mimi all the time.”

“Yeah, well, it was her responsibility. I just got stuck holding it because she was late.” Joe pulled off his glasses to wipe them clean on his shirt. Then on his jacket when they just smudged. Then he groaned and pulled a specialty cloth from his bag to rub across the lenses.

The sparse leaves above them shuddered in the growing cold wind, the scent of rain overtaking the salt air. Joe whined as Gomamon laughed at him and rolled off his ankles.

“’Won’t storm that bad’?” Gomamon snickered.

“Oh, shush.” Joe pulled out his D-Terminal and sent a quick message to TK. Hopefully he wasn’t super distracted with whatever catching up he and Matt were doing. “Let’s head further down for now. Or at least try not to be the tallest objects around when the storm fully hits.”

The sky light up and thunder snarled, vibrating the ground and drowning out Joe’s yelp. He scrambled to his feet and snatched at his bag as a rush of air blasted from the cliff’s edge. A peal of familiar laughter rang out over the sound of the approaching storm, an Airdramon rising from the darkened sea with an impressively timed flash of lightning.

“Oh, what the hell?” Gomamon dug his claws into the ground as he was almost blown away from the force of the Champion’s wings. “Joe! Are you ok?!”

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” the Digimon Emperor crooned from atop his Airdramon, holding onto one of the bony horns of its skull. The wind tore at his cape, whipping it back and forth in a frenzy, and he sneered down at the unfamiliar Child. He wasn’t one of Ken’s usual pests, and he couldn’t recall ever coming across him before. Was this some new user trying to butt into his game like the rest of those cretins?

A smattering of raindrops on Ken’s sunglasses obscured his vision, but he ignored them to twist his mouth into a delighted smirk. It didn’t matter who these pests were, he would kick them out of his server and claim this area as his. “It appears we have a lost Child and their little pet trespassing on my property.”

Gomamon growled, his mohawk bristling into sharp needles. “Look to me more like a dweeb on a lizard about to get hit by lightning.”

“Don’t antagonize the kid riding a dragon,” Joe groaned. He glanced across the grass to the TV he’d entered through, the Hiding Tree it had been up against flickering wildly in the charged air. It hadn’t seemed that far away before Ken had showed up, but now he was wondering if he could make a run for it.

“A dweeb?!” Ken snarled. He barely managed to restrain himself from stamping his foot down on his Airdramon’s skull. Instead, he tightened his grip on the monster’s horn until his fingertips throbbed. “I am the Digimon Emperor! And I will not be spoken to like that by a trained seal!” Now he did slam his foot down, twisting his heel as though trying to shatter the bone beneath him. “Airdramon, attack!”

The Airdramon, unable to flinch even if it had felt the Emperor’s boot come down, reared back. Sparks crackled around its mouth, rain evaporating into steam as the great dragon inhaled deeply then cried out, “God Tornado!”

A flaming vortex cut through the air, slamming into the fledgling trees and igniting them with an explosion of dirt and steam. Ken laughed wickedly as Gomamon yelped and scrambled aside, Joe ducking and almost rolling down the slope to the forest below. Under the roar of the wind and Ken’s wild cackling, Joe’s Digivice began to scream.

Gomamon felt the energy building up under his skin, making his sleek fur stand on end. After everything he’d faced before, he wasn’t about to let some kid with a god complex hurt Joe. His body glowed, beginning to grow.

“Gomamon, digivolve to…!”

“Airdramon, don’t let him! Attack him again!” Ken stomped his foot down angrily, slamming repeatedly against the monster. He shouted as he slipped on the rain-dappled bone, steadied only by his painfully tight grip and the small green worm at his feet that latched onto the hem of his pants.

“Ken, watch out!” Wormmon cried, holding desperately to his Tamer. He didn’t trust the mindless Airdramon to catch Ken if he fell.

“Don’t touch me!” Ken spat. He twisted, ripping his pants from the creature’s grasp as he grabbed for his whip. Wormmon flinched away, but Ken aimed for his Airdramon’s back, cracking it against exposed scales.

“But the cliff…” Wormmon whimpered.

“Did I say that you could speak to me?”

“Ikkakumon!” The great walrus appeared as the glow of evolution faded, the ground rumbling underneath his giant paws. He lowered his head, aiming his horn for an attack. He didn’t feel good about knocking a kid out of the air, but his Partner was right there – he would be fine.

A bolt of lightning split the dark clouds, blinding Ikkakumon momentarily. The Airdramon used that moment to rear back and flap its wings, two glowing scythes cutting through the air. “Wing cutter!”

The ground exploded in a spray of grass and gravel, the burning trees collapsing into red-hot piles. Ikkakumon sputtered and jumped back as the cliff’s edge shuddered dangerously. He shook the grit from his fur and looked for Joe out of the corner of his eye.

“Joe, are you ok?”

Joe coughed, smoke and sand filling the air. Embers from what used to be trees were kicked up, carried on a frightening wind like horrible fireflies. The sky roared as it finally parted and freezing rain poured down upon the Children. Mud immediately formed at Joe’s feet and he slipped as his chest tightened. The soothing Bond he used to calm his asthma was restricted in battle, not wanting to siphon any energy that Ikkakumon might need.

“I’m fine!” Joe wheezed. “Just focus on Ken!”

“Ken, please be careful,” Wormmon whined, voice almost completely washed out in the sound of the rain. “It’s getting really slippery up here…”

Ken. Ken! Ken!

“What did I just say?!” The Digimon Emperor roared. He brought his whip down over and over, cracking against his Airdramon’s back. Wormmon curled up and sobbed in fear. “I told you not to talk to me! You’re distracting me!”

“Joe!” Ikkakumon hissed. He could feel Joe’s heartache for the small Digimon, wrenching his stomach with every cry. “Joe, get to the TV – stay close until you can get out of here.”

“Stay safe,” Joe whispered. “Run as soon as you can.”

Ikkakumon swung his head, calling out, “Harpoon Torpedo!”

The Airdramon shrieked, bucking as the missile exploded against its chest. Ken yelped and grabbed at the horns with both hands as he was almost tossed into the air. Wormmon squealed, sliding across the bone and barely managing to latch onto the Airdramon’s ruff. The dragon lashed out with its tail, pain momentarily overriding the hypnosis of the Dark Ring, and it caught the edge of the cliff where Joe was cautiously trying to crawl away.

Joe cried out, flailing to stay upright as the whole ledge shook. But the pouring rain and the exposed dirt left a cold, slippery sludge that caused Joe to fall over. He slammed into the mud on his back, wind knocked from his lungs.

“Ikkakumon!” he wheezed, reaching blindly as mud splattered his glasses. The walrus turned, peering through the white haze of rain. He could feel the fear and pain flow through their Bond.

“Joe?!” Ikkakumon shifted, desperately trying to find his Tamer in the downpour. “Where are you?!”

“Nevermind me!” Joe spat out mud, stomach lurching as he began to slide. The ground was still shaking, the sound of screaming and rain filling his ears. “You need to watch out!”

The Airdramon thrashed wildly, slamming into the already unstable cliffside. The ground lurched and crumbled before finally giving out and collapsing.

Joe screamed as the world fell out from under him. He flailed, clutching his bag close with one arm and reaching out with the other. He was floating, flying, falling. Dirt and grass and mud and rain surrounded him. His Digivice was screaming, vibrating and glowing white hot.

Ikkakumon felt the power overwhelm him, electricity shorting out something within him. Unable to evolve further, Ikkakumon shrank with a groan, returning to Gomamon with a flash of yellow light. The seal flailed, reaching out with claws that couldn’t quite make it.

“Don’t worry, Joe,” Gomamon called, forcing a grin as they fell together. “It’s just like last time, remember? Marching Fishes!”

In the roaring sea below, a haze of color could be seen rapidly gathering even through the heavy rain. Joe stretched his fingertips as far as they could go, just barely managing to brush against his Partner’s claws. A surge of calm warmth entered him, and he knew they would be ok.

At the same time, the Emperor was clinging to his Airdramon screaming into the darkness and thunder. One soaked arm wrapped around a bony horn, he wildly cracked his whip toward his worthless partner. The Aridramon was quivering, twitching, every new welt on its scales stinging in the icy rain.

“Where are you?!” he roared. “Wormmon, get over here now!”

“But Ken…” Wormmon whimpered, burying himself further into the Airdramon’s ruff. “I don’t want to get hit…”

“You’re going to get what you deserve!”

The Emperor brought down the whip as hard as he could in the direction of Wormmon’s voice, the leather tip cracking against the Dark Ring around the Airdramon’s neck. Already old and worn, the Ring shattered under that final strike.

Usually, when a Digimon was freed from the hypnotic power of a Dark Ring, they were overtaken by a serene calmness. With the evil power drained away, they would leave and find their way back to their own territory. This particular Airdramon, however, had been one of Ken’s first captures. The anger had been building up, slowly and steadily, and now that it was free, rage took over.

Airdramon shrieked into the rain, bucking furiously. It shook its head from side to side, trying to dislodge the small figure clinging to it. Jaws gnashing, it fired off another God Tornado into the sky, the rain hissing and steaming as it hit the fiery attack. It lashed with its wings, twisting and wrenching wildly. Ken cried out, his boots and grip slipping, knocking him over. He scrabbled at the beast’s skull, trying to cling to anything he could reach.

Wormmon was yelling something, but the sound was lost in the roar of thunder and the screaming of Airdramon. Ken shouted, his grip loosening at a sudden clap of thunder, and he slipped an inch further toward the Net Ocean below. He was kicking, more determined to reach the small worm than find a way to safety.

Wormmon dodged a wild kick, only holding onto Airdramon’s scales by the crochets of his legs. He blinked the rain out of his eyes and tried to focus on the closest cliffside. He prayed to the Old Gods that his accuracy wouldn’t fail him.

“Sticky Net!”

Thin silk, far stronger than it appeared, shot from Wormmon’s mouth. It arced in the gusty wind before connecting with the far away rock. He clamped his mandibles and gave it a tug. The string didn’t immediately rip away, so he would have to trust it.

“Ken!” Wormmon called. He planted his back feet as well as he could on the angry Airdramon and reached for his Tamer. “Ken, grab me!”

“I’ll grab you all right!” Ken snarled. Right around your worthless throat!

Ken reached out and snatched at Wormmon.

Wormmon flinched instinctively.

Airdramon twisted and slammed into the cliffside with its whole body.

CHRUNCH!

Ken screamed as his body was caught between the stone wall and the massive dragon. Pain exploded from his fingertips to his shoulder of his outstretched hand. Airdramon twisted, flipping head over tail in the air. Wormmon squealed as he was dislodged, his Sticky Net pulling him toward the far cliff.

Gravity pulled at Ken, sending him tumbling down, down, down to the darkened ocean. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. He could only feel the fire in his arm and the ice of the rain. His vision filled with sparkling light before he groaned and let unconsciousness take him.

“Marching Fishes!”

The mudslide hit the Hiding Tree, the hologram flickering from oak bark to a snowscape of static back to oak. The TV nestled in its metallic roots was hit with a sludgy mix of rocks, grass, and mud. It rocked as it was slammed against the tree, mud flowing under and slowly sliding the little gate toward the ledge as the screen light up.

“Joe?!” TK’s worried face appeared. He couldn’t see anything but rain and dark, far off screaming echoing in the thunderstorm. “Jo--! Whe– bzt – you?!”

The TV jerked to a halt as its cord remained implanted in its far-off plug, the flowing mud still causing it to rock.

TK pulled out his D3, throwing the gate open.

A large rock slammed into the TV and the cord snapped in half. The screen flickered and slowly began to darken as it tumbled off the edge of the cliff.

Joe’s Digivice screamed.

Ken’s D3 glowed.

The digital gate flashed as lightning split the sky.

Chapter Text

The first thing Ken was aware of when he awoke, was how much his arm hurt.

The second thing, was that his royal bed was very hard and lumpy.

He coughed and groaned, rolling his head to one side. He could feel the grit of mud in his hair and he made a face. The bathroom in his base was so far away, and the water took so long to warm up. He opened his eyes, ready to call for Wormmon to bring him his robe.

He wasn’t in his room in his base.

Gone was his four-poster bed with its billowing canopy and long curtains. Gone were his fresh silk sheets. Gone was his fluffy mattress and pillows that felt like clouds compared to the trash he’d been using back hom-- back at his parent’s house.

He was in some kind of cave, he realized as he looked at the stone ceiling. The light flickered, playing with the sharp shadows along the walls, and he turned his head to look at the roaring fire nearby. There was a line of rope that stretched between two thick branches, and it took Ken a moment to recognize the deep blue and white fabric that hung from it as his empirical clothing.

… His clothing?

Ken realized that, under the thin metallic blanket that had been tucked around him, he was naked down to his boxers. No shirt or pants, not even gloves or socks! He jerked, moving his arms to prop himself up.

PAIN!

Ken fell back immediately, screaming as agony exploded though his body. Something was horribly wrong with his right arm! He thrashed on the hard ground, sobbing and gasping for breath. He tried to grab at his aching arm but got caught in the blanket, the feeling of being trapped wrapping around his chest and squeezing.

“Ken!”

Somewhere, beyond the echoing of his own screaming and crying, a voice called out his name. Cold hands pressed firmly on his chest and a soothing voice cut through the red haze of pain.

“You’re gonna be ok. Just breathe, Ken. Can you do that for me?”

Ken sputtered. He jerked his right arm again with a shout, and the blanket was moved aside to free his left hand. He grabbed the closest thing he could find and squeezed.

“Ow, shit! No, don’t let go! You can break my fingers if you need to, just breathe. In then out. In, pause, then out, pause. Just like that, but slower, ok?”

Ken gasped, painfully swallowing air. He choked as he breathed out, lungs jerking. But with the low, soothing hushing in his ear, he fought back the pain for a deep breath of air. He held onto it for a moment before coughing it up. But he managed another breath, held it a second longer, and expelled it with a sob. The next breath was easier, coming, holding, and going. Then the next.

The hand holding his shoulder moved away, gently pressing on his forehead and moving back across his hair.

“There you go. Keep breathing, nice and slow. I got you…”

The pain was still there, electric pulses throbbing in his arm and chest. But he could breathe now. Ken relaxed back, blinking as his vision slowly stopped swimming. Hot tears were streaming down his pale face, and he looked at the blurry figure hovering above him. Shaggy blue hair, soft dark eyes behind round glasses. A gentle, proud smile as Ken did something so simple as breathe on his own.

… Sam?

“Try not to move your arm. You dislocated it when you fell, and I had to set it. I tried to put it in a sling for you, but I didn’t have the best material.”

Ken closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath. His chest ached from hyperventilating. No. It hurt from being crushed between a cliff and an enraged dragon. He could still hear the disgusting crunch of his arm echoing in his head before he’d passed out. His insides ached and he groaned as he thought about how high up he’d been when he’d fallen.

“Are you nauseous? Be careful if you need to vomit - do you want me to help you roll onto your side? I don’t have much more water on me, but drinking will help settle your stomach. I know it’s the last thing you want to do if you need to puke, though.”

Ugh, this wasn’t Sam. He would never babble on this much.

Ken forced his groan into a growl, focusing his hazy vision into a glare. He could see a bit clearer now that the person he was with was much taller than Sam, his face softer but more defined. He was only wearing dark slacks and a long necklace with two intricate pendants, one a star and one a hammer. There was a strange burn mark across his chest that didn’t look fresh, and the flickering firelight made the scar tissue look almost silver.

“It’s your incessant chattering that’s making my stomach churn,” Ken spat, hating how weak his voice sounded.

Instead of looking afraid of the Emperor, or offended at the tone, or even angry at being insulted, the man just smiled.

“It can’t hurt too bad if you sound like your old self.” He held up his hands and gestured to the blanket that was now crumpled across Ken’s body. “I’m going to move that, ok?”

Ken hid his flinch under a glare and snatched the blanket closer, barely remembering to use his left hand. He hurried to snarl, “You already removed my clothes, haven’t you perved on me enough?”

“I want to make sure you haven’t popped any stitches,” the man said. He was still smiling, expression unchanged. “I used up the last of my thread on you. That’s all.”

Stitches?

“Where?” Ken sputtered. “Where did I need stitches?”

Hands still raised, the man pointed at his stomach. “You were bleeding when I pulled you out of the water. You must have gotten sliced on that Airdramon of yours, or something got you when we landed. It isn’t deep, but it’s long.” When Ken hesitated, the man put his hands together gently. “Please?”

“Do as you will,” Ken spat. With his arm debilitated, he couldn’t stop the other from lifting the blanket and pulling it down to his waist. The sudden air on his chest was simultaneously cold from the cave and pleasantly warm with the fire crackling nearby. He looked down at himself, his neck pulling at his injured joint.

His shoulder was a dark purple mess of bruises that speckled their way across most of his his chest and down his stomach. Small cuts that could have come from rubble or the Airdramon’s scales were peppered all over his skin, some bandages here and there that were already darkening with blood. His arm truly was secured in a sling, though the dark blue fabric looked more like a uniform overcoat that had been cut up and repurposed.

Cold fingers on his abdomen made his breath hitch, and he bit back a grunt of pain at the twitch of his arm. Dark eyes flashed to his face for a moment before the other man gently pulled at the medical tape holding down a large gauze pad just above Ken’s belly button. It was a long cut, angry and red and just shy of four inches long. Bright blue stitches held him together and he hissed as the gauze caught on a knot and jostled the thread.

“Sorry!” the man yelped. He carefully pressed the tape back down and pulled the blanket back up to Ken’s shoulders. “Looks like you’re holding together well enough.”

“How reassuring,” Ken sneered.

“You’re really lucky I’ve been practicing one handed stitches,” he continued as though Ken hadn’t spoken. “And with a shallow cut like that, I really just needed to keep it from moving so it can heal straight. I did so good on those. Would it be considered unethical if I brought you to Dr. Takemi to prove to her I can do more than just sort the pharmacy?”

Ken groaned as he, once again, babbled on. “You should have left me to bleed out…”

The man cut himself off with a laugh. “Ah, sorry about that. I guess I got a little excited there. Are you in pain still? I have some ibuprofen with me. Not the strongest, but it’ll take down some of the swelling in your joint.”

Without waiting for a response, he pulled over a ratty, soaked through satchel. He dug through one of the side pockets, pulling out a handful of individual packs of medicine. He picked one without looking and dumped the rest back in the bag. He showed Ken the blue and white packaging before tearing it open.

“Here. It’s not the kid’s stuff but go ahead and take both pills. You look pretty skinny, but you’ll need the extra dosage when the shock fully wears off. Let’s get you up so you don’t choke.” Ken made an indignant squawk when the man reached over for him. Slowly and steadily, he was pushed upright. Gravity pulled at his arm, making him whimper, but the makeshift sling alleviated most of the pain. The medical tape and stitching tugged at his stomach, pinching his skin.

“You ok?” the man asked. Ken realized his face was scrunched in pain, so he smoothed his expression as best he could. “Stay up like that and let me just…”

Ken wavered, swallowing the groan of his stitches and his shoulder jostling as he was shifted from being supported with two hands to one. The man reached down, fumbling for something hidden by their shadows, and pressed a half empty water bottle into Ken’s lap. There was something dark flaking off the plastic.

“Do you need help to open the lid? I know I have a bad habit of screwing them back on too tight, and I don’t want you to strain your shoulder.”

“I do not need your help,” Ken snapped. He brought the bottle up to his mouth, gripping the lid with his teeth and twisting. He spat the lid across the cave, glaring until the man stopped laughing and handed him the medicine. The pills were bitter on his tongue, and it hurt to tilt his head back, but he chugged the last of the water.

The man smiled and took the empty bottle from Ken, who would have preferred to throw it at his head. It hurt more laying back down, stomach stretching and his arm wanting to slide to the floor, but he was helped just as slow and gentle as he’d been propped up.

“Get some rest,” he said. “I’ll keep an eye out for the rest of the night. Hopefully by tomorrow, I can figure out where we are.”

Ken just glared, watching as the man stood up. He refused to show the fear of being towered over, of being injured and at another’s mercy. If the situation were reversed, Ken would have taunted the man on the ground for his helplessness, perhaps threatened to kick him in the injured arm to assure obedience.

But the other just walked over to the makeshift clothesline, pulling off a stained once-white shirt. He considered it for a moment before folding it up loosely, returning to Ken. He knelt down, gently lifting the younger’s head and placing the fire warmed shirt under him. Then he pulled the blanket back up over Ken’s shoulders.

“The medicine will kick in soon, so get some rest, ok? If you wake up and need anything, just call for me. Oh, my name is Joe, by the way. I don’t think we’ve ever actually, you know, met.”

Ken followed Joe with his eyes. He shuffled away from the fire toward the shadowy entrance of the cave, pausing just long enough to grab his satchel, before vanishing just out of sight. There was a moment that twisted Ken’s stomach, imagining that Joe was simply going to leave him here, injured and vulnerable. But there came the sound of the bag dropping to the ground and someone settling down in the dirt, an out of tune humming floating over to the crackling fire.

The adrenaline, the pain, and the fear couldn’t hold Ken forever and eventually the medicine pulled him into a fitful sleep.