Chapter Text
The soft sunlight of the morning filters through the bedroom window as Flame starts to stir, his tired eyes falling on the small child snuggled to his side before sighing. Carefully he starts sitting up, rubbing at his eyes before putting on his familiar blindfold.
Ashen is sprawled on the bed, legs tangled on the messy covers as a small trail of drool fall through his lips— baby canine teeth softly biting his sleeve. Flame slowly stands up, careful to not trip on the fallen covers, as he stretches. The man hadn't been able to sleep lately, not without stress running through his veins.
One of his hands gently taps the cheek of the sleeping cub, ignoring the disgruntled whine that comes from the cub's lips. Ashen very much like Flame is not a morning person.
"Okay bro, up we go" Flame's voice sounds hoarse from deep tiredness as he slowly holds the child against his chest.
"Noo…" Ashen whine, head flopping to the side until his cheek is squished against Flame's shoulder. He looks at his hands before his eyes go wide and he turns to look at Flame. "Flem, there's no general claws!"
"He's probably around here somewhere bro" Flame groans before kneeling with an increasingly grumpy toddler to look for the discarded plush.
His hands reach to blindly search for the toy between the covers, a hand gripping the floor for balance while the other searched for the fuzzy material of the small tiger plushie. After a while of small whines coming from his side—he finds the small thing, tucked under a nearby pillow.
The child makes grabby hands at the plushie, too tired to express himself vocally beyond basic words. Flame contemplates reminding the kid of his manners for a second before discarding the idea. Ashen had just woken up and was likely in no mood to really retain anything the man says to him, it would only end up in a meltdown.
"Your welcome, bro" Flame mutters, giving the plushie to the small child and receiving a muffled thanks in response.
The journey to the kitchen feels endless as the toddler flails in his arms, kicking his small feet while chewing on the sleeve of his pajamas absentmindedly. Flame hums, putting the child on a nearby chair, ignoring the grumpy yips he gets as a response.
Anger wouldn't harm Ashen.
Carrying the kid on his arms while attempting to work the stove with one hand would definitely do so.
Flame is halfway through a cup of coffee when a loud thud resonates the space, making the man turn around slowly, trying to determine the situation. Ashen's on the floor, likely due to the chair toppling over thanks to the kid's flailing. He had told the child thousands of times to stop swinging on the chair without any success.
There was no obvious injury.
Flame has three options, fuss over the fallen child, lose his temper or just…
The man takes a deep breath before turning to the stove, going back to making breakfast.
"Is anything broken bro?" Flame asks while placing the scrambled eggs on the plate.
"Nuh huh" Ashen childish voice calls out as the sound of the chair being picked up starts echoing the place.
"Were you bouncing on the chair again?" Flame asks lightly, trying to keep the edge of frustration while chugging another cup of coffee.
"…No"
That was the most guilty ass no Flame had heard in his whole entire life.
"Try again bro" Flame starts plating the pieces of cut fruit with the toast and the scrambled eyes before reaching for a cup of milk.
"I really wasn't!" Ashen insists with a pout.
Flame sighs, leaving the plate on the place where the kid was sitting before turning to look at him. There was a trick that Mane had used a long time ago on him, one that he hopes is as effective as it was on him.
"Hm… look at me please"
"Why?" Ashen's confused voice replied, a hand reaching for the spoon nearby.
"Well, lying might work with someone that doesn't know you" Flame ignores the very sharp refusal that comes from Ashen lips at the accusation. "But I know you and your cheeks turn red when you lie"
"They do?!"
No Ashen, they don't, but the cub didn't need to know that. Instead Flame just nods trying to look as serious as he can in the honestly ridiculous situation. He just watches as the kid sharply turns his head to the side, trying to hide the supposedly red cheeks.
"Now why are you hiding bro, hm? I thought you weren't lying" Flame starts slowly plating his own food before walking to the table, watching with tired amusement as the kid tries to cover his face.
"Ughh, fine…" Ashen sags dramatically before entering a spoonful of eggs to his mouth. "Sorry, I won't do it again"
"It's fine bro, now eat with your mouth close. You don't want a mosquito coming inside to take a bite of your food too, do you?" The kid looks horrified at Flame before shutting his mouth with a click.
Flame just smiled at the child's naivety.
The man was exhausted, he had gone without sleep countless of times before but nothing compared to the exhaustion he was feeling in that moment. A deep rooted exhaustion, a mix of the nightmares that plagued his mind every time he shut his eyes and taking care of a small creature determinate on killing himself in stupidest ways possible.
They had to leave to capital city early today.
He was not looking forward to that trip, he's not looking forward to letting that child walk over destroyed streets and bloody puddles.
The problem persists even as he drags the kid through the morning routine, through the familiar notions of practicing writing and finishing the household chores.
He's half done with folding the sheets when an idea struck him.
Flame makes sure to pick a blanket long enough to cover the child before making his way to Ashen.
"C'mon bro, we have to go" Flame says, saving the blanket in his inventory and carrying the child while using an elytra.
It takes them roughly two days of flying to arrive to the outskirts of the city. Two days of carrying around in a very uncomfortable position a silent toddler, one that remembers clearly how the trip had gone. Flame starts humming at some point during the trip, hands sore from the fireworks as the child clung to his side.
His knees buckle as he forces himself through the exhaustion and lands on an isolated door of capital city.
Flame chugs an speed potion, hoping that the adrenaline of it running through his veins is enough to get him through the day and the journey back home. His hands fumble with a piece of bread that he passes to the silent toddler next to him. Watching as the child clutches the plushie close to his body, looking slightly afraid.
Flame takes a deep breath before kneeling in front of the child.
"Breathe Ashen, we are gonna try something different this time."
The child had looked at him with puffy eyes before nodding silently.
The motion made Flame's heart squeeze against his chest as he tried to smile.
"Okay, I'm gonna need you to climb onto my back and hold tight, okay bro?" Flame asked, his voice softer than he remember ever being.
Even after everything, Ashen still did what he was asked without a single complaint. His gray locks falling over his eyes as the kid slowly wrapped his arms and legs around Flame's back. The position was clearly awkward, wobbly hands struggling once Flame started standing up once more.
The blanket is warm on his hands as he struggles to remember how exactly Mane had carried him. It's a struggle to find a way to fold it so that the child is secure in a small cocoon, a way that keeps ashen hidden yet comfortable even if he were to drop his arms.
Really what a stupid struggle to have.
Eventually, after a few more tries, he manages to get Ashen secured behind him with the blanket. The kids leg dangle freely to the side as his hands stay pressed against his back, the plushie digging into his ribs.
There's no way he can wear armor while carrying Ashen.
Thankfully, a lot of players walked around without a chest-plate due to their elytras so he might be able to pass it off without any questions. Flame makes sure to grab his cape, carefully covering every sign of the kid while adjusting the hood.
"All good back there?"
There's a soft sleepy hum of affirmation from his back as Flame starts walking in the direction of the open doors of capital city.
Flame's hands fidgeted with the cork of an invisibility pot, wishing he could just splash both of them and their clothes be done with this. Flame can't, he had learnt early enough that normal pots made Ashen very very sick and you couldn't dilute an invisibility potion .
He had yet to find out if it was due to the components or maybe the magical nature of Ashen existence, but the cub was extremely intolerant to normal pots.
Flame had spent six months trying to find a solution but he was no expert.
…
There was a chance that the invisibility made you completely see through, and with Ashen on his back that was not a chance he could take.
His options where absolutely terrible.
Flame saved the potion on his inventory before running inside. He'd need to make this trip as fast as possible.
The sight of the different scaffolding scattered around the place mixed with the dust of collapsed cities is a familiar sight as Flame tries to keep a low profile. There's a deep smell of rot and broken sewage that would make anyone less used to it gag.
Things around the place had only gotten worse.
There were rats infecting the place as imperial guards littered the place, hunting down anyone against Saparata with a clinical precision that seemed unreal. Missing posters of children and newer players were scratched of, some of them replaced by a wanted poster of Parrot's face.
His boots continuing walking through the filthy streets in search of the different material he needed to keep the brewing station on his house stocked.
Flame wasn't surprised it had turned out like this.
Not when Saparata had stated his intentions of killing every new player arriving to the place, without a care if they were born inside unstable territory or newcomers that had arrived through the open portals.
There was a veil on his face over his blindfold, one that made sure to cover the parts that the hood couldn't reach as he moved through silent streets.
The children's store was half destroyed with a guard stationed outside of it at all time, scanning everyone who dared approach it.
They were hunting any new player entering to unstable, that included children.
They were hunting children.
The weight on his back became increasingly heavy, the realization landing over his body like a bucket of water as he continued walking as calmly as possible in the small restricted space. Ashen's breath was heavy from where he slept, a small foot on Flame's back.
There was a shout before the familiar scent of blood filled the air. Flame didn't waste a single second staying there, instead he continued forward. His heart on his ears in each step he took.
It was stupid.
Cinderchrest was probably the first regime that actively hunted down new players instead of recruiting them.
He passes through the stores with a detached ease, bargaining prices from scamming vendors with ease, trying to keep his body language completely neutral. He couldn't afford to look nervous, he couldn't afford to leave without buying stuff either.
His options weren't looking good.
It could be worse.
Flame is grabbing a shulker box, the last one, when someone slams onto him from behind, making the cub let out a gasp that he pretends is his own. Carefully, he turns around trying to see who the assailant was while keeping the kid out of danger.
Did they find out he had a kid on his back?
The palms of his hands are sweating as his heart threatens to claw out of his ribcage in a single bloody mess. Nausea rolls out of his body in waves while he forces himself to take a look at the player in front of him.
The yellow, sponge like texture of his skin gives him the answer he needed in the blink of an eye.
Sprongs.
The worst person possible to find him in this predicament, a lousy fighter that hadn't inflicted an ounce of fear on someone before today. The man was known for quite literally winning fights out of scams and making sure to air out the worst secrets for everyone to see.
The man enjoying making people angry and often couldn't differentiate between a harmless secret and the condemning people to death kind of secret. Ragebait seemed funny until it got out of his control.
"Woahhh, how bold! You are undercover yet no invis! Are you too poor to buy pots?" Sprongs voice echoes as Flame hurriedly pays the vendor before starting to walk away from the scene.
It wasn't suspicious at all.
It was the only normal reaction after watching Sprongs approach you.
The man follows him, because of course he does. With eyes tinkling with mischief as he continues rambling questions at Flames, smile growing wider at each failed attempt of making him take the bait.
Bait Flame would have gladly taken in the past but couldn't now.
Not with Ashen pressed on his back.
When had all his decisions started to revolve around the cub in his back?
Flame had no answer to that question.
"I wondeer, are you just ugly?" Sprongs asks with a particular glint on his eyes. "Or are you hiding something?"
Don't react, Flame chides himself before taking a deep breath, shaky hands curling into fists inside of the cape.
"I wonder, yk, my frieeend Flame disappeared a while back" Sprongs gave him a toothy smile, eyes shining in a way that threatened to make Flame's heart stop from fear. "I wonder if you know something about it!"
Sprongs knew.
And if he didn't, he definitely suspected something.
His eyes scan his clothing, trying to search any clue on what might have given him away.
Flame shakes his head, desperate for the man to catch the memo, to leave him alone and search for another victim. They hadn't even been friends. Sprongs was just an annoyance Flame hadn't been able to get rid off, always finding his base, always taking his stuff or picking stupid fights he couldn't win.
"Flamee, c'moon I know it's you!" Sprongs shouted following behind him with a pout while he continued walking.
There were eyes watching his every step as cold ice flooded his veins. If they continued looking would they look at the bump of his back? Could anyone sense something was off about him? His eyes shifted to the guards around him, some of them already leaving their stations.
"Dawg, I saw the charm when I bumped into your back, the bunny one you refuse to take away because it was oh so cute." Sprongs declared dramatically, goggles resting on his head as he gestured around. "Who is the strongest hiding from?"
He knows which charm.
Lomedy's charm, the only thing that he hadn't been able to throw away. No matter how hard he tried. It was secured on Fragger's handle, impossible to see unless you saw the sword from behind.
It was so stupid.
Flame sentimentalism and selfishness had once more ruined everything he had without a care in the world.
His eyes shift to the gazes of the people surrounding them, watching the fear and doubt start appearing as they made space for the upcoming guards. He's fucked, he's so fucked.
"Flame?" Sprongs asked nervously, likely getting from his reaction that he had messed up in someway. "C'moon, don't be mad"
"You are confusing me for someone else." Flame muttered through his hoarse voice, downing another speed potion with a frail sigh. There was no way he could put an elytra on, not without endangering Ashen. Fuck, out of everything that could have happened.
It's clear the guards don't believe him as they continue walking to his direction with calm precision.
"Nuh, no I'm not!"
"We are going to request you take the veil off, now" One of the guards raised his sword in an obvious threat.
Fuck.
Flame raised his own sword, knowing full well the charm is on display for anyone to see. Using the handle to hit the guard behind the ear before running like his life depended on it. His hands shook as he downed another speed potion, fully aware that he was on his fourth one and it wasn't even noon.
Sprongs tried to follow, angering guards while clumsy hands held the sword.
"Leave, sprongs. You have done enough bro." Flame whispered, a harsh bitter laugh falling from his lips— his legs burning as he jumps in a random direction.
The weight on his back becomes heavier the more he runs, as he fears someone would send an arrow after him or struck his back with a weapon. It's an intoxicating feeling, one that makes his whole body shake with a type of adrenaline he hadn't felt before.
His senses are heightened as his speed doubles, it threatens to drive him crazy while the sleep deprivation adds to his growing paranoia.
Sprongs is stays until it's clear that Flame won't fight nor will he defend the man from the soldier.
He had been in Cinderchrest, he knows they will let him go.
Flame can lose them, but not permanently.
He knows that the second he leaves this city someone will track him down, someone searching for a fight. The real question is how much time he has, how much time he can be stuck in the same problem.
Leaving the hut is not an option, not now that almost everyone will be able to track him down. Raising Ashen in the run isn't one either, not when Flame will inevitably get captured at some point.
By the time the army is far enough, his hands are already getting Ashen from his cocoon, allowing him to put an elytra on and carry the child to the wind.
His options were letting them be ambushed in the middle of dark forest or letting them be ambushed outside the house. Where he could probably hide Ashen in the small corner of the basement.
The child nuzzles against him, humming contently.
Blissfully unaware of the extent of Flame's failure.
Flame should have thought things better, but what options did he have? He had extended his resources as far as he could, resources that had already been low from the constant fighting from before Ashen was a child.
It's not fair.
A single tear falls from Flame's face, at the sensation while he tries to get both of them home as soon as possible.
"Flem?" Ashen soft voice sounded from against his skin, the plushie gripped tightly in his arms.
"Yea, cub?" The pet name escapes his lips before he can even begin to process it, flowing from his anxious body like soft liquid. Flame stills, gripping the fireworks tighter, letting them out in a way that let's him be as fast as possible.
Small burns decorate his skin as the adrenaline from his exhausted body starts to dissolve, forcing him to down another speed potion. The excess make his hands shake as nausea curls in his stomach, his body threatening to shut down at any moment.
His brain feels like it's being pulled underwater against his will as his vision blurs slightly. There's just two days of constant flying and no sleep.
His hands analyze his inventory, he had enough speed pots to drink every eight minutes for the journey.
Good, okay, he can do this.
He swallows his discomfort, knowing that the hours once he crashes will be hell.
"Where are we going?"
"Home" Flame's voice waivers slightly, as he continues spamming as many rockets as he can. "We are going home"
"Mkay" The child yips before biting softly the spot over Flame's shoulder. A signal that he is half sleep, and just fighting the urge to take a nap.
The journey home is hell.
Flame hasn't gotten more than three hours of sleep in the whole week. Each potion makes his hands shake as adrenaline constantly pumps through his veins keeping him awake. Ocassionaly, his own body forced him to land or Ashen's soft requests against his skin.
By the time they get home— there's a mix of paranoia that threatens to drown him, as he lands and search everywhere for any intruder before locking the place down. His hands are shacking for the excess of speed potions as he struggles to place the energetic toddler bed.
It's normal for Ashen to not be tired.
The kid done nothing but wiggle or sleep on the journey back home
It's such a simple thing that lights his nerves.
It makes Flame want to scream.
There's a deep suffocating pressure on his chest as a mix of exhaustion, paranoia and anxiety make his stomach churn. A feeling so heavy that almost looks like grief feels like is drowning him as the frustration of the whole week threatens to spill out.
His body barely process a thing as he somehow ends up dragging every single toy and book onto their shared bed before locking the door. In his exhaustion barely able to let the kid down without dropping him before collapsing face first into the mattress. The soft babble of the kid playing next to him lulls him to sleep, his body struggling to keep itself awake.
There's tears falling through his eyes, as he struggles to stay awake out of fear. His mind shouting that sleeping meant leaving an unattended toddler, screaming at him that anyone could just enter and grab Ashen from his arms.
His body is too tired, tired from the constant nightmares, from the lack of sleep on the whole week and the constant adrenaline pumping through his veins. Ashen makes a yip from somewhere next to him, one that Flames responds with a hum.
A hum that turns into a melody, a melody he vaguely remembers Mane sighing to him back when he was a feral cub.
He should have expected this.
After all, Flame always ruined everything he touched.
It seemed like Ashen wasn't immune to this law.