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Time felt like it was standing still.
The sounds around him were muffled, like a pillow were being held over his head. His stomach twisted and ached, his chest heaved, desperate for air he struggled to draw in.
The rumble of the stagecoach beneath him was far away and quiet. Sazed’s voice beside him was a distant whisper, words that couldn’t hope to drag him back down from the panic that coursed through him like the very blood in his veins.
Visions of a child retching violent red were burned into his mind. The panic, the fight or flight reflex that took over his entire being was undeniable. There was nothing he could do. He couldn’t be here. He had to get away. He couldn’t be there. He had to leave.
Taako’s fingers were twisted so tightly in his own hair that it hurt, but he was so far away from reality that he just didn’t realize it. He couldn’t feel it.
He was startled by a sharp pain in the arm. Sazed had hit him, right below his shoulder, “TAAKO, for fuck’s sake, come back down-- we’ve got to talk about this!”
Taako swallowed, it was dry, and he shook his head.
“Listen to me, I don’t know what the hell you did, but--”
“I-- Sazed, I don’t have a fucking clue,” Taako croaked, staggering to his feet, though his knees threatened to give out from beneath him, “there wasn’t, there was nothing-- I… I have…”
“It doesn’t matter,” Sazed snapped, “the point is, this is… all of this, it’s over now. There’s no coming back from this-- especially when you fucking run away.”
“What else were we supposed to do?” Taako’s voice broke a bit, and he shook his head desperately.
“We?” Sazed sounded incredulous, “we? This is all your fuckup, boo. Don’t lump me into this with you. Don’t you dare.”
Taako didn’t move. He stared at Sazed, at the tiefling he’d spent the better part of the past few years with, at the cold way he watched him, the dismissal, the… fuck-- he…
“Stop, stop,” Taako suddenly lurched.
“Don’t you dare, Taako--” But even as he spoke, he pulled the stagecoach to as abrupt a halt as he could.
He had no choice.
Taako flung himself off the side, and into the underbrush. Sazed looked away as Taako threw up, violently, a coughing, spitting mess…
He’d fucked this up. All of it. Everything. He’d… somehow, he’d managed to fuck up the one good thing he had in this shit life. His one glimmer of Goddamn happiness was extinguished, like the life in the eyes of the people he killed. He killed them. Fuck--
Taako curled on himself, dry heaving-- an uncouth and rough display, so far detached from the normal, languid, carefree way he carried himself that it made Sazed visibly uncomfortable.
“Get back up here,” Sazed finally muttered, “we’ve got to keep moving. You good?”
Taako spat to the side. He felt hollowed out. He’d been the happiest he’d been in his Goddamn life, and now… it was like the rug had been swept from beneath his feet. What now? What did he do?
He climbed back up, next to Sazed, and there he sat… silently. His gaze was far away, and even as they began to move again, he didn’t react. His knuckles were white, fingers twisted in the material of his pants.
“... Taako,” Sazed spoke, “you really don’t give a shit about them, do you?”
Taako’s lips popped open, “I-- you-- don’t you fuckin’ dare--”
“It’s true. You don’t care. You don’t care that you killed them, and you definitely don’t care that by fuckin’ up your own show, you’ve fucked me over too. You honest to God don’t think about anyone but yourself. I can hear it now--”
“Shut the fuck up, Sazed.”
“’What am I gonna do? MY show is ruined! MY life is over.”
Taako bore his teeth and jerked a hand up, absolutely prepared to slap the shit of him-- but Sazed snarled, “don’t you do it-- don’t even think about it, I’m the one busting my chops to get you out of here. Like I always do. Like I always clean up your messes.”
There were no words. Taako didn’t know what to say. His mouth was dry and tasted of bile… his hands were shaking so hard he couldn’t control them… he needed Sazed right now, as loathe as he was to admit it… he couldn’t-- he couldn’t fuckin’ think straight.
Taako lowered his hand back to his lap and turned away.
“That’s what I thought,” Sazed huffed, “take some fuckin’ accountability. I’m not going to coddle you. I’m done with that. You’ve got to own up to this. Just admit you fucked up for once in your life.”
“...” Taako swallowed, a dry and a painful swallow, but said nothing.
“Of course not,” Sazed shook his head, “... whatever, Taako. If you’re so full of yourself you can’t show some remorse for, I dunno, killing a bunch of people, then there’s really no fucking hope for you, is there?”
“... Just get us the fuck out of here,” was Taako’s curt response. He wasn’t here to play these games with Sazed. He knew he was trying to get a rise out of him, to jab at him, his pride… but now, fuck, was now the time?
The two of them sat in gnawing, grueling silence. Taako’s face was in the palms of his hands, head hung low… Sazed, out of Taako’s sight, was tense, knuckles white on the reigns of their transport.
Neither of them moved. Night fell, night passed… Taako was exhausted, but his mind wouldn’t shut up, he couldn’t even clear it to meditate… so he leaned back, and he stared at nothing, at the trees and wilderness passing, at the road passing them by, the road they’d trekked a hundred times.
He’d never perform again, huh? He’d have to lay low. He’d have to… abandon this dream he’d been chasing for years, this weird ambition that had been thrust upon him seemingly by a ghost in the night.
The dream he’d always had but couldn’t remember. It was gone now. Dead. There was nothing here for him anymore. He’d have to start over. He’d have to… figure something else out. When he thought he was set. When he thought he had everything finally figured out, when he was where he thought he was supposed to be… it was over. Dunzo. Just snuffed out like a goddamn candle.
Sazed tirelessly drove for two solid days. Taako hardly ate. He didn’t sleep. He did move, eventually, pacing the inside of the stagecoach. He hadn’t changed clothes. He was still wearing his fucking apron from the show… but he didn’t care enough to change it. To do anything. Not until they were somewhere safe. Not until he could gather his thoughts.
Not until he could stop fucking seeing death flash through those villager’s eyes.
“Taako-- Taako.” Sazed was nudging him. Somehow, he’d ended up on the loveseat inside the stagecoach, not really asleep but also not really awake, “come on. We’re in town. You… you gotta get out of this fucking trance. I’m gonna set up camp. Come outside.”
Taako seemed stunned-- he’d turned heel on him, and almost, almost sounded concerned.
“Sure--” He didn’t have the energy to fight the suggestion.
When Taako finally wandered outside, Sazed was cooking. It turned Taako’s stomach to smell food, so he took a seat by the fire, but refused an offering.
“Taaks, you gotta eat, dude. Eat while we still have the scratch to get food.”
That didn’t help. Taako’s stomach flipped again, “No can do, broski. I’ll-- I’ll catch breakfast or something.”
“Whatever… I’m not your mom,” Sazed talked a big game, but he hardly ate, himself. Taako wasn’t sure if it was lack of sleep or nerves, but Sazed was fidgeting a lot… and after he’d poked a meager amount of food down his own throat, he was on his feet, prowling around the fire.
Taako didn’t have the energy. He sat, knees to his chest, chin on said knees, eyes focused on the crackling flames before him.
“... We’ve got to figure this out,” Sazed sighed, “you can’t keep moping. You chose this. We’re out here with our tails between our legs.”
“I-- … don’t know what you want from me? This is it,” Taako opened his hands and gestured around them, “we got nothin’. I got nothin’. We’re just gonna play it by ear, that’s all we can do, unless you’ve got some brilliant idea you want to share with the class.”
“Ch--” Sazed looked away, drumming his fingers on his arm, “... whatever. It is what it is. So much for the easy life, huh?”
Taako didn’t answer. He tucked his face into his knees.
…
There was a sudden warmth beside him.
Taako jerked his head up in surprise, but Sazed hushed him, and he curled an arm around his shoulders and tugged him close.
“Get some sleep.”
“... what’re you on?”
“I’m serious. You’re a zombie. They’re gonna call a cleric to clear you out, if you don’t rest. We’ll figure this out in the morning. Can’t unring a bell, but we-- uh, we’ll sort it out, okay?”
Taako was quiet.
It had been a long fuckin’ time since Sazed had held him. Normally he was indifferent to it, but… right now, it was… alright, he guessed.
“... Sazed.”
“What’s up?”
“...” Taako had a tight smile on his lips, and he barked a laugh, a wry laugh, devoid of any joy, “I’m sorry.”
Sazed froze, fingers tensing on Taako’s arm, and it took him a long time to finally answer.
“Me too.”
…
Exhaustion had won out on Taako’s worn body. He slept, but it was a fitful, restless sleep.
When he woke, it was disorienting and overwhelming. He wasn’t sure where he was, what he was doing… and then the memory hit him like a battering ram. Taako reeled, nausea creeping through his form… And he sat up. The fire was long extinguished, and it seemed as though it were early morning.
Sazed was nowhere to be seen, and… slowly, Taako realized…
There was… nothing there.
Nothing but him and a pile of charred wood.
Taako’s heart stopped. He felt the ground drop out from beneath him.
No. No.
No no no no.
Taako lurched to his feet, hands twisted into his own hair. His breath came in short gasps, and he stumbled forward, there were tracks… tracks from where they’d parked, but they wound into the twisting mess of tracks on the road and vanished.
Gone.
It was gone.
He was gone.
He was alone.
“S-sazed-- you fucking-- you son of a--” He was heaving, muttering to himself, walking a disoriented circle around the extinguished fire.
He patted himself down-- his pockets were emptied. His change purse was gone. His knife was gone. He had nothing, nothing but the fucking clothes on his back.
The home he’d lived in for years. The partner he’d had for years. His dream, his life, his career… were gone.
“FUCK,” Taako’s knees scraped the ground as he landed on them, and he slammed a balled fist into the dirt, again, again, again, again. Bloodied knuckles twisted into the dirt as he grit his teeth…
Everything was gone.
Taako didn’t cry. He had lost the use for that long, long ago. Instead, a numbness swept over him. A coping comfort that eased the pain, eased the loss-- a familiar friend came knocking on his door… despair, loneliness.
He put himself together. Meticulously, he pulled his parts from where they’d scattered in the dust. His face was set in a vacant expression, and as he got to his feet, he untied the apron he was still wearing.
Sizzle it up with Taako.
He balled it up and tossed it into the cold ashes of the fire pit.
It… well, it wasn’t any use to him now, was it?
Taako took a shaky breath, and he started walking. What else was there to do? It wasn’t like he hadn’t done it before. It wasn’t like he hadn’t lived this life before. He’d take it in stride with all the pride, all the determination he could muster.
He was on the run again. Just like he’d been before. Just like he never thought he would be again.
Alone and on the run.