Chapter Text
The Express crew is tiring. Their battle with the crazed Stellaron Ray has dragged on for too long, with no end in sight. At least not one that results in victory. Himeko blocks one blow after another, an endless series that leaves her breathless and exhausted, unable to retaliate. She’s preparing to dodge yet another hit when the Stellaron Ray suddenly lets out a horrible shriek and loses focus, directing its next attack in a seemingly random direction.
This opening is the only opportunity they’ve been given. Himeko capitalizes on it immediately, rapidly shouting orders to the rest of the Nameless. They urgently respond with a brutal attack of their own. They hit the Ray with everything they’ve got left, knowing this will likely be their singular chance at defeating it.
It works.
To everyone’s immense relief, once interrupted, the Ray can’t manage to regain its upper hand. Soon, it falls out of the sky and into the street below, its misery and destruction finally put to an end. As the dust settles, the crew pick their way through the rubble to reunite.
“We did it!” March shouts in celebration, smile exhausted but proud.
“Very well done, everyone.” Himeko encourages, “Are you all okay?”
“Yes, I’m alright.” Dan Heng replies.
Stelle and Caelus glance at each other before both giving Himeko a thumbs up. Sunday just gives a tired nod.
“I’m fine…” March trails off for a moment, glancing around worriedly, “Uhh…Where’s Mr. Yang?”
Himeko’s heart drops instantly, gripped by fear. A hurried scan of their surroundings reveals that March is right. Welt is nowhere to be found. A moment from their battle with the Stellaron Ray suddenly flashes in her mind. She’d noticed Welt separating himself from the group toward the end of the fighting. Had that been before the Ray got distracted? The realization hits, and Himeko sees red. She mentally kicks herself; she should’ve said something the moment she’d noticed, but she’d hoped that Welt wouldn’t actually be stupid enough to use himself as bait.
Clearly, she was wrong.
“Split up.” Himeko says quickly, dread obvious in her voice, “We need to find him.”
The rest of the crew exchange alarmed looks and hurried nods before skittering away, splitting up to cover more ground. Himeko takes off running in the direction she thinks she remembers Welt going, pleading with every Aeon she can think of that he’s somehow still alive. Maybe he’s just trapped, hurt but overall still okay, or maybe he overused his powers and passed out. It wouldn’t be the first time.
Himeko searches for what feels like too long, checking her phone every few seconds to see if anyone else has had any luck. The area she’s in now is a little out of the way, but she just has to be sure. She darts down side street after side street, each empty location feeling a bit more hopeless than the last. Eventually she slows, glancing down a long alleyway not far from where the battle originally started. She’s not expecting to find anything there, but has to double-take in horror.
“Welt!”
She sprints down the alley, getting a better look as she gets closer. And for a second time, Himeko sees red. Blood stains the ground and Welt’s clothes, more still on his forehead and lips. If not for the slight, pained rise and fall of his chest, she’d think he was dead. She’s not convinced he won’t be in a few minutes regardless.
“Welt! Hey!”
Her knees hit the ground beside him, scraping against the asphalt. Blood immediately paints the hem of her dress a garish scarlet. She’s frantic, not sure what to do or if there’s even anything she can do that will actually help.
“Welt? Come on, stay with me.”
Himeko pleads, ripping off her coat and pressing it roughly against the gash in his side. He hardly reacts. He’s barely even conscious, gaze distant and vacant. Himeko isn’t positive he realizes she’s beside him. There’s a hint of a smile on his face though, like he’s satisfied with this outcome even if it costs him his life.
Keeping one hand applying pressure to the wound, Himeko grabs her phone from her pocket with the other and quickly shares her location with the rest of the crew. Then it’s discarded on the ground in favor of attempting to stop the bleeding, trusting that the others will understand her vague cry for help. It’s obvious that Welt’s condition is dire. There’s so much blood. It’s surprising that he’s even still alive given the extent of the sickening wound hidden under Himeko’s coat. It seems like he’s having trouble breathing too. Each breath is shallow and uneven. The way his arm hangs from his shoulder looks wrong, and there’s something unnatural about the way his leg is bent. It’s even more surprising that he’s managed to stay conscious, if barely.
“Come on, stay with me.” She murmurs again, more to herself than to Welt.
His eyes begin to slip shut just as Himeko hears the distant shouts of the others looking for them.
“No no no no no, don’t do this.” She pleads. “Over here!” She shouts, anguished, willing her voice to carry.
Himeko presses two fingers to Welt’s pulse. It’s weakening.
“Come on Welt, stay with me a little bit longer. They’re almost here. Please.”
He loses consciousness with a finality that makes Himeko scream, tears staining her cheeks. Welt is going to die, and there’s nothing she can do. He’s one of her best friends, part of her family, and his blood is slipping through her fingers.
She only vaguely registers the rest of the crew finding them in that alley, their panicked shouts and horrified gasps. Vaguely registers her own protests when someone makes her let go. They’re running back to the Express now, in a race against time itself. Himeko finds herself pleading with the Aeons again, desperately hoping they won’t be too late.
--
Consciousness filters back in slowly, hazy at first. Is he still in that alleyway? Welt can tell there’s someone else nearby, can hear them moving around and messing with something off to his right. The pain is more bearable now, and it’s easier to breathe. With significant effort, Welt forces his eyes open, immediately scrunching them shut again to block out the harsh light overhead. It takes several minutes to be able to try again. Going right back to sleep sounds better than staying awake, but he needs to make sure his friends know he’s alright.
When his surroundings finally come into focus, he’s infinitely surprised to be greeted by a familiar ceiling. He’s back on board the Express, and back in his own room. How much did he miss? Or was all of that just a dream?
“Are you finally back with us?”
There’s a brown-haired woman with green eyes and a white lab coat standing by his bed. A doctor. Not a dream, then.
“Do you know your name? And where you are?”
Welt nods. “Yeah.” His voice comes out weak and rough from disuse.
“Miss Himeko wants to strangle me, doesn’t she?”
“Oh yeah.”
It’s not the doctor that answers. Welt glances to his left, where Himeko sits in a chair beside his bed. There are dark circles under her eyes, and though she seems relieved he’s awake, she’s glaring at him.
“Hi.”
“Hi. Have a good nap?”
Oh, she’s mad.
The doctor clears her throat, interrupting the one-sided argument that’s sure to happen as soon as she leaves. Himeko sighs and leans back in her chair, directing her attention to the doctor instead.
“Mr. Yang, you’re very lucky to be alive. How are you feeling?”
“Tired.” He admits, thinking it’s a relatively safe answer.
“You should be.” The doctor nods, “Unfortunately your injuries are quite serious, so it will take you a while to recover.”
She checks her notes, leafing through a few pages.
“You were unconscious for roughly 36 hours, largely due to near-fatal blood loss. You’ve got 44 stitches, by the way. Don’t pull them. Five ribs were broken, and a couple of them punctured your lungs. It should be easier to breathe now.”
It’s already a staggering list, and yet she keeps going. She flips to the next page.
“Your left shoulder was dislocated, and your right leg is broken in multiple places. Both should heal well without leaving you with many issues, but you’ll be out of commission for several weeks. Not as long for your shoulder, but your leg will take a while. Other than that, just some cuts and bruises. You’ll be very sore. Try to get as much rest as possible. You need it.”
The doctor gives Welt a pointed look with those last two statements. She then gathers her supplies, packing them into her large medical bag, and takes her leave.
Mercifully, Himeko gives Welt a moment to gather his bearings instead of immediately reprimanding him. He still only feels half awake, probably drugged out of his mind considering he’s no longer in debilitating pain. He’s propped up slightly in bed to keep the pressure off his ribs, and he can see bandages wrapped around his torso where his shirt has been left partially unbuttoned. His shoulder is wrapped too, and his arm rests in a sling. Pillows elevate his leg, completely immobilized by a pristine cast.
This is far from unfamiliar. Back on Earth, Welt would’ve lost count if he’d been keeping track of the number of times he’d ended up like this. There’s almost a strange nostalgia to it, in a way. That’s probably not the healthiest thought to have, so Welt puts it out of his mind. Still, it’s been a while since he’s been hurt this badly.
“So,” Himeko begins after an awkward moment, “Do you want to tell me what that was back there?”
“We…needed an opening, and I saw a way to get one.” Welt chooses his words carefully.
“And did you have any idea that your plan might end with you getting killed?”
“…I knew the possible risks, yes.”
“You used yourself as bait, Welt! You almost died! We figure things out together, that’s what we’ve always done!”
She’s pacing now, tears in her eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what? Making me cry? Worrying me—no, all of us? Or doing that in the first place?”
Silence.
“That’s what I thought.”
Himeko sits back down in the chair, head in her hands. Neither of them speak for a long time. She’s still crying silently, her shoulders hitching every so often.
Welt has no clue what to feel. He still doesn’t regret what he did, though it feels like he should. Worrying everyone like this was never his intention. Putting himself in their shoes if one of the other Nameless had done the same thing, he understands their distress. Given how serious his injuries are, no doubt they’d feared the worst.
“Risks are part of my job, you know.” Welt says gently.
“Which job?” Himeko snaps back, “Nameless, or Herrscher?”
Clearly, that was the wrong thing for him to say. Silence hangs between them again for several minutes.
“You’re like a cat.” Himeko finally says quietly, eyes trained at the floor instead of him.
“What?”
“Cats go off by themselves and hide when they die. You don’t ask for help. I found you alone in an alley, Welt. And you didn’t even seem to care. Do you want to die?”
“No.” He answers quickly.
“Then what is it?” Himeko finally meets his eyes. She looks devastated. “Why would you do something like that?”
“…I was bored.” Welt finally admits, voice equally quiet as Himeko’s. “I have been for a while, I think. I…used to be different, back on my home world, and I wanted to feel that again. I know it was reckless. But I thought it would help.”
“And did it?” Himeko almost seems scared to ask.
Welt stays silent for a moment, looking away. “I don’t think you want an answer to that.”
Himeko sighs, long and tired.
“I had a feeling you’d say that.”
“I’m sorry for worrying everyone. That wasn’t my intention. Genuinely.”
“I know.” Himeko nods, “You’ve been asking for adventure and then watching other people get it. So you made your own. I don’t approve, for the record. But I do understand.”
She gives him a small smile, shaking her head. “I guess that means Pom-Pom and I are the responsible adults then.”
Getting up from her chair, Himeko ruffles Welt’s hair the way she would to March or Sunday. Her smile turns more genuine, almost slightly amused.
“Get some rest, Welt. We’ll make sure there are plenty of adventures waiting for you.”
Welt spends the rest of the day and into the next resting and slipping in and out of sleep. Whenever he wakes, one of his friends is always there waiting in the chair beside his bed. They all chastise him for his recklessness, but express how glad they are that he’ll be alright and wish him a smooth recovery. March proposes a family movie night, promising to build the best pillow fort the universe has ever seen. She’s ecstatic when Welt enthusiastically agrees. He’s already starting to get tired of being laid up in bed, and time spent all together feels very needed. Welt may have been bored, but never of them.
--
1 New Message
From: Gravity
13:20
We’re having a movie night tonight. You should join. See you soon.
Void Archives smirks at his phone with a small huff of laughter, amused at how fitting the contact name “Gravity” is. How bold of Welt to automatically assume that he’ll show up just because he was invited. He doesn’t have to go. He could just not show up.
It’s a few hours later by the time Void Archives arrives back at the Astral Express. He sneaks in the way he always does, a way even the Conductor hasn’t been able to figure out. There are voices coming from the main car, presumably already getting set up for their “family movie night”. That’s what March always calls them at least.
Human emotion has never been something Void Archives has considered himself good at navigating. He knows he experiences them, more now than he used to, but he often finds it hard to know which ones he’s experiencing. Ironically, it’s something he and Welt have always had in common despite Welt being one of the most “human” individuals he’s ever met.
Said difficulty articulating emotions hits Void Archives full force upon entering the main car.
“Looks like I missed something.”
There’s an absolute mountain of pillows and blankets piled up around one of the couches to create a fort suitable for royalty. Even Void Archives finds himself impressed. There’s also a healthy dose of confusion. The entire crew looks a bit worse for wear, sporting fresh bruises and scratches, and a few bandages here and there. It would seem they had an eventful time while he was away. He wasn’t gone that long.
Everyone is getting cozy and curled up into their respective spots, and it makes Void Archives feel…almost fond? Is this how people usually react to seeing their family?
Well, that’s concerning.
What’s the most concerning, however, is the current state of their dear Herrscher of Reason. It seems he got the worst of whatever they fought, by far. He’s tucked into a little nest of pillows and blankets in their fort, left arm in a sling and right leg in a cast. Especially compared to the rest of the crew, it looks like he’s in rough shape. His expression is tired, but at least he seems comfortable.
“Hi, Void.” Welt gives a small wave with his good hand.
“You don’t seem surprised to see me.”
“I’m not.”
“Oh! Mr. Archives! We saved you a spot!” March waves him over, patting the blankets next to Welt with a bright smile.
It would seem that no one is surprised he showed up.
Void Archives doesn’t quite know how to respond to that, so he just makes his way over and situates himself in his appointed spot. The blanket fort is surprisingly comfortable. The movie hasn’t been started yet, everyone still settling in, grabbing snacks, and chatting. Stelle absolutely clobbers Sunday with a pillow, and they both fall over laughing.
“Well, Herrscher,” Void Archives says, turning to Welt, “Care to tell me what mess you got yourself into this time?”
“Being reckless. That’s what he got himself into.” Himeko interjects with a look before Welt has a chance to answer.
Welt looks slightly embarrassed, and Void Archives almost expects him to either apologize or deny it. He does neither.
Interesting.
“We were fighting a creature that had absorbed a Stellaron on Tetria. I…saw an opportunity and took it.”
“Reckless indeed, Herrscher.” Void Archives smiles, reading between the lines of his explanation, “I must say, this seems more like you.”
“Do not encourage him, Archives.” Himeko warns, glaring at him.
“Still bored?” Void Archives turns back to Welt, ignoring Himeko’s comment as she rolls her eyes.
“No.” Welt tells him with a genuine smile.
In fact, he seems rather pleased with himself. He pulls a blanket a bit tighter around his shoulders and relaxes back into the pillows. The smile remains, a far cry from the mood he’d been in just a few days ago.
Dan Heng grabs the remote, navigating through the menus to start the movie. It’s some science fiction Godzilla-vs-giant mech movie that Void Archives recognizes but has never seen. It definitely looks like something Welt would love. He probably got to pick since he’s hurt. Not a horrible consolation prize. Void Archives is about to grab a blanket and maybe steal some of Himeko’s popcorn when March holds out a red permanent marker, offering it to him.
“Do you want to draw something too?”
“Draw?” He gives her a confused look.
“Yeah! Or at least sign your name!”
She gestures to Welt’s cast, where the rest of the crew have already scrawled their names in different colors across the white background. There’s also a variety of doodles, almost certainly courtesy of March.
“Here! Pick whatever colors you like!” March tells him, placing her plastic bin of markers between them.
“Can I?” He asks Welt. It feels stupid. But he’s never done this before.
“Of course.” Welt tells him, amused but not judging, “Don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt or anything.”
The movie starts, and Void Archives rummages through March’s container of permanent markers until he finds one in metallic gold. He signs his name upside-down right over Welt’s knee, the weird material making his handwriting a little sloppy. And before he knows it, he’s doodling with March, little geometric patterns and vines and chains like the ones he uses. It’s strangely fun; he can’t recall ever having drawn anything before.
About halfway through the movie, Void Archives notices Welt looking very sleepy. He’s not usually one to doze off while watching something, but he’s likely on some strong pain medication that’s making him drowsy. Not to mention the exhaustion of recovering from such serious injuries. So, Void Archives finishes the doodle he was working on and places the markers back in the plastic bin before scooting it back closer to March. He shifts over to sit right next to Welt, grabbing the thick blanket from his own lap and gently wrapping it around both of them. A moment later, Welt rests his head on Void Archives’ shoulder, a relaxed smile on his face.
“You know Herrscher, if I didn’t know any better, I’d almost think you’re enjoying this.” Void Archives whispers with a smile of his own.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to explain.” Welt responds just as quietly.
“All of it. Fighting, being reckless, saving the day and getting hurt in the process, being taken care of, picking the movie…You don’t look bored anymore at least.”
“I…hate that I worried everyone.” Welt thinks for a moment before answering.
“That’s not a denial.”
“…No…I guess it isn’t.”
“Did you have fun?” Void Archives asks, amused.
“Yes.” Welt grins.
“For what it’s worth, Welt? This looks good on you.”