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Something is wrong.
Molly can feel it deep in his soul.
It’s wrong in the way his friends hover over him as he’s transported back to…somewhere. It’s wrong in the way their faces are contorted with grief and worry. It’s wrong in the way he doesn’t know how to respond to them.
He reaches out and Yasha takes his hand and presses it against her face, still damp with tears. “You’re safe, Mollymauk. Go back to sleep.”
Deep down, he knows there’s something he should be saying to reassure her—something he should be feeling beyond all this fear and apprehension.
But there’s nothing there.
So, instead, he closes his eyes and drifts off.
--
He dreams of darkness.
He dreams of a sharp pain in his chest and darkness all around, smothering and suffocating.
He dreams of fire bright wings. An icy violet hue, they burn cold to the touch and he’s been burned so many times. They wrap around him and burn him until there’s nothing left of him except a small, shrivelled speck of a soul, desperate and afraid.
He dreams of his friends. Of reaching out to them and calling with all his might, but none of them ever hear him. Drawn to the purple flames, they listen attentively as it calls them by a name that is not their own. Fragmented and incomplete, they turn from him, never realizing he was there.
He dreams of loneliness.
--
Drifting in and out, Molly eventually wakes to an unfamiliar house. It takes him a moment to gather himself. He stares at the ceiling and then lets his eyes trail down, and he sees a field of flowers.
There’s a quiet gasp next to him and he sits up with a start, scooting back against the headboard of the bed.
It’s Yasha.
She apologizes and approaches him slowly, leaving her seat to sit on the edge of the bed, giving him plenty of space. “Molly, it’s me,” she says. “Do you remember me?”
He nods.
That alone seems enough to bring tears to her eyes. “Thank you. Oh, thank you,” she breathes. “I was so afraid I’d lost you again. But you came back, you really came back.”
Watching her, a voice in the back of his mind tells him he should be happy. He should be relieved. He should be anything but confused and afraid—but that’s all he is.
Eyes darting around the room for the closest exit and best way to defend himself, that same voice returns to scold him because this is Yasha. Yasha meant love and security. Of all people in the world, this is the one soul who will never hurt him.
But she never heard me, another voice whispers.
“Molly?” she asks. His attention returns to her. “Are you alright? Do you feel sick? Or hungry? I don’t know how long it’s been since you last ate. Would you like to eat something? I can get Caduceus or Jester to bring you something.”
Without thinking, he reaches out and clasps her hand pleadingly.
Her eyes widen slightly and she nods, her lips trembling. “Of course. I’m not going anywhere. …can I give you a hug?”
He nods.
Yasha wraps her arms around him and pulls him close, her tears soaking into whatever simple garb they’ve dressed him in. “I’m sorry I failed you, Molly. I promise I’ll be here with you from now on.”
Somewhere inside, he thinks he’s heard these words before but he can’t quite place where.
“I missed you so much. I used to dream about you after you were gone—that you came back,” she whispers to him, her face buried in his hair, well-practiced in dodging his horns. “You’d walk right up to us and ask why we looked so shock. And you’d laugh…”
And all he can feel is apologetic because this isn’t anything like her dream. This can’t be what she wanted. It’s not what he wanted. Not for someone as important to him as Yasha.
“But this is better,” Yasha says as if in response to his thoughts. “This is real. You’re real.”
Placing a hand on her arm, he furrows his brows, his own tears steadily flowing. He knows her. This is his Yasha. And he knows this.
So why does he still feel so empty?
--
Eventually, the rest of the Nein catch on and crowd around the bed, each speaking excitedly amongst themselves.
Molly looks from one face to the next.
He knows them all.
Or, most of them.
They’d briefly introduced Caduceus Clay to him and he’s certain that something about the firbolg should’ve sparked a little curiosity in him or at least approval with that pink and green aesthetic. But as he looks at this gentle stranger, all he feels is apprehension.
Molly looks to his friends for reassurance, but none of them are looking directly at him, too busy discussing the best way to heal him, to treat whatever ailments he may still have. They’re in tears, crying about how much they missed him but they don’t seem to see him.
They don’t see me, that voice whispers.
With his heart hammering in his ears, he opens his mouth. “I…” he begins, his voice hoarse with disuse.
No one notices him.
Fear clutches at his chest.
They don’t hear me.
He closes his eyes and he sees violet flames bursting into life, ice cold but burning, searing, breaking…
“Please…” he rasps, his voice barely above a whisper.
A hand covers his and Molly whips around to see Caleb, a concerned frown on his clean-shaven face. “What is it? I’m listening, Mollymauk.”
Immediately, he feels tears stinging at his eyes and spilling over. Grasping at Caleb’s hand, he whispers gratefully, “You heard me.”
--
Caleb leaves Frumpkin with him with the promise that he would be heard, then one by one, the rest of the Nein leave the room to take care of other business. All save Yasha.
It’s a little easier with her quiet presence and calm demeanor. She tries her best to explain the layout of the house to him, describing to him how they picked their rooms and named the rest, promising to take him around once he was feeling a little better.
Eventually, Caduceus enters the room with a tray of food for the two of them. He immediately seems to pick up on something and asks, “Have you noticed anything strange since your return, Mister Mollymauk?”
He holds Frumpkin a little closer and nods.
Yasha frowns and furrows her brows.
Keeping a respectful distance away, Caduceus nods, his tone gentle as he asks, “Would you mind telling me what’s wrong?”
The fear returns, telling him to flee and escape and survive. “I’m afraid,” he says, focusing all of his attention on Frumpkin, who meows and head-butts his hand in response to his words. “That’s all I am.”
“Ah,” the firbolg says. “Well, your soul went through a lot to return to us, Mister Mollymauk. I wasn’t sure how damage to a soul might manifest.”
“You can’t cure him?” Yasha asks a little desperately.
Caduceus shakes his head. “Not for this, I’m afraid. Only time and the grace of the gods can heal a soul. But we can be here for him. We can be kind and patient, and we can help him where we can.”
Molly squeezes his eyes shut, willing the tears back. “I remember happy. Will I never be happy again?”
“You will,” Caduceus reassures him softly. “It may take time, but I think you’ll get there.”
“And we’ll all be here with you until you do. I will be here every step of the way,” Yasha adds, squeezing his hand, her voice a solemn oath.
“And if I am never whole?” he asks quietly, not really wanting an answer.
Yasha leans forward and presses a kiss to his bare horn, the gesture intimate and familiar. “Then I’ll be with you, and together, we’ll make a whole. My soul was made to match yours, Mollymauk, even when it’s halved.”
The happiness still doesn’t come, but somewhere deep inside, under all the fear and wariness, he thinks he feels a spark of hope.
--
Eventually, the Nein deem him well enough to wander the house. He’s given a tour and taken to everyone’s bedrooms and up to the treehouse where he thinks he should’ve felt awe. Nott introduces her husband to him and Jester her pets, and he knows there are words to be said and jokes to be made, but he merely nods.
Sitting in the ‘Happy Room’, Molly listens to their tales of everything they’ve done since parting ways with him.
Caleb sits next to him, paying close attention to him as he listens, ready to answer his questions as they come—always listening.
He remembers loving Caleb. He remembers worrying and feeling warmed by the wizard’s actions, and he thinks he feels something now at the thought of his attention, but it’s drowned out by the anxiety. This group has been through so much and gotten so close. How easy was it for him to be forgotten and replaced?
Tugging at his shirt, he covers up the newest scars on his chest.
The uneasiness only grows when there’s a knock at the door.
The name ‘Essek’ is announced and half the group disappear, Caleb included.
Yasha, Nott, and Jester stay with him and tell him about their time in Xhorhas and the people they’ve met. “There’s the Bright Queen who’s supposed to be thousands of years old,” Nott tells him, threading his fingers through her collection of rings. “She gave us these medallions as proof that we’re heroes. And she gave us so much coin for giving her information.”
Jester nods happily. “So much coin. We should definitely go shopping when you feel better, Molly! Oh, that one looks nice, Nott.”
Nott holds up his hand to show him the ruby ring on his index finger. “How’s that? I promise all these were from grumpy people!”
“Or dead,” Jester adds helpfully.
“Yes, or dead. Or grumpy and now dead,” the goblin corrects herself. “Do you like it?”
Molly stares long and hard at the ring, waiting for something but nothing comes. “I don’t know.”
Unfazed by his lack of reaction, Nott nods to herself and continues rifling through her bag. “Then let’s find one you do have feelings about!”
“Who is…Essek?” he asks, glancing towards the stairs.
Yellow eyes looks up at him in surprise. “Oh, well…”
So he learns about Essek, the handsome drow who’s powerful and educated and skilled in the one type of magic Caleb is so invested in. Caleb, who is now clean and well dressed and brighter than he ever was before.
He heard you but he won’t stay with just half a soul, that voice taunts.
Oh, he thinks, a hand up to his chest.
This is sadness.
--
He avoids all of the Mighty Nein’s visitors and stays away when they discuss their future plans if only to save himself further sadness should they discuss leaving him behind.
Eventually, Jester finds him sitting up on the roof and pulls her weasel out of his haphazardly built home to show Molly. The poor creature hisses and tries to wiggle out of her grasp, but after feeding it a strange assortment of chopped meats, Sprinkle seems to calm down enough for her to handle.
She takes a seat next to him and rests her head against his shoulder. Once upon a time, he thinks he would’ve relished this private time between tieflings, would’ve teased her and been teased in return in a language no one spoke but them.
“I’m glad you’re back, Molly,” she says in Infernal.
“But…I don’t know how to be,” he admits quietly in the same language. “I am half a soul and broken everywhere else. I am not me and I am not my own anymore.”
“No, you’re still you,” Jester says earnestly, her hand reaching out to take his with a gentle squeeze. “We all know it. You don’t have anything to prove. I will take you as you are.”
Molly looks at her, only a single word manages to find its way out: “Why?”
“Because you are Molly. You are my family, my brother, my friend, and I’ve missed you,” she replies, her voice growing thick. “I promise we will find a way to help you, to make you feel whole again. Or, at the very least, help you feel more like you again.”
He doesn’t know how to respond, how to thank her, so he quietly taps his horn against hers. It sounds hollow in the absence of his jewellery, but the gesture’s meaning doesn’t change, and he hopes she understands. “I remember sadness and fear. Hope is still fleeting but I think I feel it now.”
“And happiness?” she asks, her tail wrapping lightly around his.
Molly shakes his head. “I don’t know happiness yet.”
“You will,” Jester tells him confidently.
He nods. “I think I can believe you.”
--
He dreams of renewal.
He dreams of his body on top of a burning pyre, the flames licking away at his skin and flesh until even the bones turn to ash.
He dreams of a magnificent bird rising from the pyre and soaring up into the sky and it fills his heart with dread.
He dreams of a procession, watching the scene unfold with solemn faces.
He dreams of his procession.
--
Eyes snapping open, he tries to sit up only to find Beau and Fjord holding him close. “Whoa, easy now, you’re okay, Mols. You’re in the training room. You were watching us spar. It’s just us. Just Fjord and Beau,” Fjord mutters as if soothing a spooked animal.
And he feels the part, eyes darting around the room uncomprehendingly.
There’s a tight squeeze on his shoulders and he looks up to see Beau, her face concerned. “You back with us?”
Molly nods weakly, the panic subsiding for the moment. He looks around again to see the familiar mats of the training room. “Sorry,” he says. It’s not something he used to say so freely but it feels appropriate now. “I’m sorry.”
He gets a light pat on the cheek for his apology and blinks. “Hey, none of that here,” Beau says with a frown. “Save your apologies for when you’re actually at fault. You fell asleep and had a shitty dream. That’s nobody’s fault.”
“She’s right. We all have nightmares,” Fjord tells him. “You’ve heard about some of mine. Hell, you’ve watched me vomit sea water, remember?”
“Yes, we thought you were turning into water. Jester promised to catch you in a jar,” he recites.
Fjord and Beau smile at the memory.
Molly does not.
Running a hand through his hair, Fjord sighs, “That’s probably preferable to whatever’s happening now. But never mind that. We all have bad dreams—violent ones in some cases. You’re in good company with us. You’re right where you’re supposed to be, Molly.”
He shakes his head, sadness building in his chest. The dream is still lingering on his mind, the sight of his procession still fresh. “No, I’m supposed to be dead.”
Not just once, but twice now.
For the renewal…
Another pat on the cheek, harder this time. “None of that here, Tealeaf!” Beau says more forcefully. “You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be! Just like Fjord said! You’re supposed to be here with us. You’re part of the Mighty Nein whether you like it or not!”
“Even though I’m broken?” Molly asks, his eyes downcast.
“Fuck that. We’re all broken here,” she tells him earnestly, her voice a little nasally as she sniffles and tries to hide it by scratching at her nose. Sparing him another glance, she shakes her head and pulls him into a tight hug. “You don’t have to be whole, you just have to be here, you obnoxious idiot.”
A hand lands gently on his shoulder and he looks up to see Fjord. “I think what Beau means is you belong with us, Molly. Nothing’s ever going to change that. We’ll find a way to make this better. We take care of our own—you’re the one who taught us that.”
Molly remembers those words.
He remembers speaking them with conviction.
Dipping his head, he quietly repeats the words to himself.
“We take care of our own…”
--
They take turns keeping him company around the house while the others go out on missions for the Dynasty. He’s sitting with Caleb in the library when the wizard breaks the silence and asks, “How have you been, Mollymauk?”
“Better,” he answers honestly. He’s been feeling more alert, more aware, and just a little less afraid. “I am…a little more me.”
Those brilliant blue eyes turn to him and he imagines his breath would’ve been stolen by them once. “Ja? That is good to hear. I look forward to having you back, but I would just as happily take you as you are now.”
The words stir up conflicting feelings within him. There’s a hint of hope but it’s weighed down by the uncertainty and despair. “What about…Essek?” he asks, his voice blank even to his own ears.
Caleb blinks and puts his book down. “Essek? The Shadowhand? He teaches me magic. I expect there will be a heavy price to pay for his tutelage but that is a concern for another time. The magic he taught me helped me bring you back.”
He doesn’t remember this but trusts Caleb’s word. “Beau told me the same. She said you saved my soul.”
Shaking his head, Caleb tells him, “Not entirely. There was so little left when we found you. I did what I could, but all of this, where you are now, and the progress you have made, that has been your doing, Mollymauk. Not mine. You are far stronger than you give yourself credit for.”
Molly glances down. “I don’t feel it. I feel so little, Caleb.”
“I think I can understand that,” Caleb replies softly. “My soul has been broken once before too. I do not think it was as serious as yours, but it was…cracked, I think.” Blinking in surprise, Molly looks up to see those endlessly blue eyes looking back, unwavering. “You have not heard it before, but I think I would like you to know it—my story.”
So he listens. He listens and he feels a deep sadness, not for himself, but for this man who didn’t have a family there to pick up the pieces and patiently stitch him back together, to paint colourful murals on the wall for him, to give him a cat that responds to his voice to remind him that he’s still there.
“I think my soul was still not whole when we met,” Caleb tells him. “Meeting Nott helped, but it was being with the rest of you that I am, perhaps not entirely whole yet, but getting there. For this reason, I have it on good grounds to believe you will find your way out of this too, Mister Mollymauk.”
He reaches out and cups the man’s face. “I remember loving you. You were so bright under all the grime.”
Caleb nuzzles his hand and frowns. “You loved me when I was still broken and undeserving.”
Molly shakes his head. “Not undeserving. Never that.” Stroking his thumb against the man’s cheek, he murmurs, “And you loved me back…”
“Ja, I did. I still do.”
He lowers his hand and his eyes drift down to his feet, the despair returning. “I will love you again, I think. I hope.”
Taking his hand and clasping it between his own, Caleb presses a kiss to his knuckles and tells him, “I also hope you will. Until then, I will wait for you. And I will continue to love you all the same, Mollymauk.”
He blinks and glances up. “But there are others.”
Caleb smiles wryly at him and gently brushes the hair out of his eyes. “Even with only half a soul, there is no one out there who shines nearly as bright as you, Mollymauk Tealeaf.”
--
He’s having tea with the Nein and listening to Fjord and Beau arguing with each other over the merits of infiltrating one of the shops in the market district when Nott chimes in, “Why don’t you get your new friends to help? Wursh and Maruo?”
“They’re hardly friends,” Fjord mutters with a frown. “Maruo, at least.”
Jester grins, suddenly excited. “We can show Molly Wursh’s abs! And maybe he can make some nice pieces for his horns! I’ve been looking everywhere but people here aren’t any fun at all!”
“Do you think he can make a charm but it’s like, just all abs?” Beau asks with a terrible grin on her face.
Fjord arches a brow. “Wait, is this for you or for Molly?”
She shrugs. “I mean, if he doesn’t want it, I’ll take it.”
Caduceus refills their cups and smiles. “An outing together sounds nice.”
Nott nods in agreement. “We can’t just keep Yeza and Molly cooped up in here, even if we do have a spa.”
“There was that bathhouse we passed by the other day,” Caleb suggests. “It’s not too far from here. And then perhaps we can go shopping after.”
“I don’t know if you’d like it, Molly, but I wonder if there’s a place that sells spider meat around here? It’s a delicacy I used to eat back at home. We got to have some when we helped the giants,” Yasha adds. “I think it’s an acquired taste though.”
Jester makes a face like she remembered something horrible but says, “The Overcrow might have some, I think? I don’t know if it would technically be meat for eating though, technically.”
It’s so mundane and normal that the little burst of emotion catches him off guard. He looks down to find his vision blurred with tears. “Oh.”
The Nein immediately notice this and turn to him and ask with matching concern on their faces, “Is something wrong, Mollymauk?”
Getting over the initial shock, Molly shakes his head and gives a faltering smile even as the tears continue to run from his eyes. “No, I…I think I just felt happy.”