Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Eugene was fourteen years old when the world ended. 

It didn’t go out with bombs, or disease, or natural disaster- no, the world ended with a few lines of misplaced code in every computer on the planet. Something embedded so far into modern machines, like a ticking clock ready to hit midnight. A defect, a small ripple, a tripwire that once snapped caused every single machine to fail. 

No one even knew what it was until it was too late.

Eugene can vaguely remember the lights going out. The cars not working anymore. Digital watches grinding to a halt at midnight on the new years eve of a year he can’t recall. He remembers water shutting off soon after that, nothing left to manage the pumps. The chaos that followed was immense, humanity unable to cope without the machines they’d based their lives around. He remembers people unable to access any of their funds, all of their resources locked away in bank accounts that don’t exist anymore, left for dead by the banks that had previously loved them. 

He remembers planes falling out of the sky, red trails of fire streaking through the midnight blue. He remembers the explosions, the pain, the suffering, the flames-

And then the dark.

His parents had tried to keep him safe; he’d been torn from them quickly in the chaos of a world where one’s neighbors were now their enemies. He remembers his mother’s screaming, his father’s panicked cries. He remembers getting swept away in a panicked crowd in what was supposed to be a safe place. He remembers scavenging for food alone. Remembers seeing people attack each other over inconsequential items. Gunshots and knives and blood- agony and death left behind as raiders and gangs began to grow rampant through the country as the situation grew more and more dire. 

Eugene remembers it all.

Though he wishes that he didn’t.

He’d grown in the ruins of the old world. Adulthood had arrived without preamble, the sudden realization that he had to fend for himself or else be left for dead was a difficult one to work with at the start, but a long history of thievery and scavenging had kept him fed and alive. He’d walked the wastelands, keeping to himself for the most part, save for the occasional trip to a trading hub or two. It’s simple, but effective- you have nothing to lose if you never settle in one place. 

The tiny town he finds himself in currently is one of the smaller places long abandoned in the wake of the blackout, as most had taken to calling it. The ten years since the lights went out hadn’t been kind to smaller towns and cities- almost all of them had been abandoned years ago for larger, more populated areas. Eugene has never bought into it; he knows that the larger a settlement, the more likely the people running it are up to something shady. Cormont, for example, had been a shitshow under all that glittering food supply. Even Corona, supposedly the last free city, is one that Eugene is sure has its problems. Hell, he knew they’d been almost constantly under attack due to their illustrious status, the poor bastards.

When Eugene first hits the town, he walks in on a cracked street and past a rusted, broken sign that declares that he has Now Entered the Town of… something. The paint’s basically gone, chipped away by time, he can’t read what it used to say. Eugene scoffs, moving further into a graveyard of civilization. The crunch of shattered glass echoes under his boots, ringing through the street with a strange sense of noise. 

He’s deep in gang territory. Usually he wouldn’t think of getting so close to Saporian land, it’s basically suicide to wander so close to their bases, though Eugene doesn’t have much choice. He needs supplies, needs them pretty badly after a rough trip between towns, and he’s run out of time to get to them. The quick route through Saporian territory would have to do. He’s hopeful that by sticking to the ruins, long since cleared out with nothing much left to scavenge, he’ll be left well enough alone. 

The worst part about the abandoned towns and cities, in his opinion, is the silence. It’s always the same oppressive, thick blanket that settles over everything like ash. There’s never any animals in the cities, they all still keep their distance from the ruins of human settlements out of fear. Eugene can’t help but wonder if they’ll ever get over their fear of humans, someday.

He wouldn’t blame them if they didn’t.

The ruins he finds himself in was once a shitty, ugly town. It’s made of cookie cutter houses, all the same suburban, templated buildings that Eugene’s seen a thousand times. He strolls through the silent streets without a care, sweating under the summer’s sun. It’s hot this time of year- it’s with a little regret that he has to take another sip from the canteen on his side; water’s getting hard to come by in the summer months. Eugene grimaces as he takes his drink, thinking of already needing to find more. 

The backpack on his back sways with each step, a heavy, grounding heft that keeps his feet on solid earth. Eugene shrugs the weight a bit, rolling his shoulders. He scans the nearby houses, noting that most of the doors have long since been kicked open- definitely looted then, no point going in to look for supplies- but one house seems almost untouched. It’s by the end of the street, tucked away in between two larger houses. If Eugene had to hazard a guess that’d by why it’s been overlooked. 

Ah, well. He’s lucky, in that case. 

His footsteps echo as he crosses the street, creeping around a burnt-out shell of a car that had wrapped itself around a telephone pole. He resolutely ignores the skeletons in the front seat, their bones long since bleached by the sun and heat of the seemingly endless summers. Eugene moves on quickly, hiking across overgrown grass and the startings of trees; ten years is more than enough time for nature to start to reclaim a lot of the smaller, abandoned towns and cities. 

He steps up onto the porch, the wooden stair long since snapped in half and turned to termite food. The porch creaks under his weight, long and groaning. Eugene tries the handle of the door, groaning when he finds it still locked. With a grunt he rears back onto one foot, bringing the other leg up near his chest for a split second before driving his foot forwards in a harsh kick with his steel toed boot, his heel slamming into the wooden door right near the lock. The door flies open with a large bang that echoes through the small house. 

Eugene sets his foot back on the ground with a small huff- kicking doors in isn’t getting any easier at twenty four, to be honest, something in his knees protests at the action nowadays- but still takes an apprehensive look into the dark maw of the house. 

It seems quiet enough. The house begins with a small main hall with a staircase to the upper floors, a hallway to the left and what looks to be a dining room to the right. Eugene takes the hallway, the warped floorboards creak under his feet and twist in their places. If the outside of the house is quiet, then inside is like a tomb. Everything’s covered in a layer of dust, so thick that Eugene leaves footprints as he walks. 

There’s always something about the abandoned houses that hits deep in Eugene’s gut. With the stores and larger office buildings, they were so… impersonal. Eugene never felt off about breaking in and looking for supplies, seeing as they were simply the ruins of the before. With houses, however, he always felt the tiniest twinge of guilt- seeing family photos on the walls, curling with age or in shattered frames, tripping over children’s toys forgotten in the evacuations, the ghosts of the people who used to call the space home. It hurt just that little bit, to be methodically sorting through the tattered remains of a family’s love. 

Or maybe he was just being whimsical. 

The floorboards creak under his feet as he walks, echoing through the tight hallway. As predicted, the kitchen is tucked away at the back of the house, a medium sized space with a large table pushed to the side. The walls were once painted a nice tan colour, though it’s long since faded. The brown tiling under his feet is cracked and worn from water damage, probably from the shattered windows across the room. It’s cold inside, the shade cutting through summer’s heat like a knife through butter. Eugene shudders, the chill settling quickly into his skin. The less time spent here, the better.

Eugene doesn’t bother with the fridge- he’s made that mistake exactly once in his life, and had quickly decided to never do so again- and turns to the cabinets instead. They were probably once white, from the looks of them, but have since turned a grungy grey through the years. When Eugene cracks them open the hinges squeal. 

There’s not much left to be honest, but he takes one of the nicer skillets- any and all food is long since expired, but cooking utensils and medical supplies like bandages and gauze never really go bad, and they can be traded. He cracks open another cabinet, another ear-piercing noise from the rusted hinges eeks through the air. Eugene rolls his eyes, but then he catches sight of something off.

On the counter, specifically the section he hasn’t touched yet, sits a large standing mixer. It’s tucked away in a corner of the counter, which is shaped as a large U shape along two of the walls and out into the room on the third side. The mixer, large and metal and heavy, is out of the way of any foot traffic, and even of Eugene himself.

So the way that the dust shows it’s been moved, and recently, makes Eugene pause. 

At the base of the mixer a portion of the grime is missing, leaving a perfect imprint of the base of the machine shifted about an inch away from the actual base. Eugene can easily spot the purple coloured linoleum of the countertop against the light grey of the dust. He hadn’t moved it, and there weren't any animals in here…

A creak, from upstairs. 

Eugene tenses. 

Before he can really think, his hand instinctually flies to his hip, where his sword sits. It’s not exactly a pretty hunk of metal, but it doesn’t need to be reloaded. That’s the only part that matters. He toys with the leather handle as another creak sounds from right above him. Someone’s walking around up there, he thinks to himself. It’s obvious they haven’t heard him, not yet at least, from the way they’re still moving around. A plume of dust falls from a crack in the ceiling as the person upstairs shifts again.

Eugene moves slowly through the hall, back towards the stairs. The footsteps upstairs keep going- really what kind of amateur wouldn’t notice they’re not alone in the house yet?- moving towards the back of the house. Eugene holds his breath, pausing. The footsteps continue without a care, eventually stopping in another room. Eugene lets out a small breath, slowly taking his backpack off and holding it in one hand. The brunet man sets his bag down gently; it barely makes a sound as it settles on the wooden floor. With his now free hand he thumbs at the hilt of his sword. With a small, quick movement he pulls on the handle and quietly draws it out from his belt. The blade gleams in the sunlight of the afternoon. It’s clean and razor sharp. 

When he starts up the first step, it barely makes a noise. He sticks to the outer edges of the stairs, his feet barely making a sound as he draws closer. There’s a shuffling noise at the top. Eugene holds his breath again, a pulse of tension making its way up his spine. He holds it, waiting, anticipating an attack from above as the seconds tick by agonizingly slow. After another few seconds of tense silence he continues. His footsteps are measured, cautious.

Silent.

Eugene can see a door that probably leads to a bathroom to the left of the top of the stairs. He creeps forwards a little more, seeing a shadow start to move in the hallway. The grip Eugene has on the sword’s handle goes white knuckled, the man rearing back as it moves towards the door. It’s too large to be an animal for sure. Human, a scared voice whispers in his head, human, dangerous, get the drop on them before they kill you-

A figure appears from around the door. 

Eugene swings with deadly precision, swiping at where an adult’s head would be with a slice that would easily cleave a head from shoulders. A yelp- 

The thud of metal embedding itself into crumbling drywall, and the frantic thumps of panicked footsteps. Eugene’s sword sticks a good inch into the wall, the man growling as the other person screams in fear and takes off, the man unable to stop them with his weapon stuck.

The person dodges past Eugene and disappears down the stairs.

Eugene grunts, yanking his sword from the wall roughly. Drywall dust and chipped paint follows him, falling to the floor as the man whips around to see a small figure disappear down the stairs. He snarls- how the hell had this guy dodged that- and gives chase, his boots thumping against the stairs as he follows.  The figure sprints for the front door, only pausing to grab-

“Hey!” Eugene snarls as they grab his backpack- stupid, stupid, never leave your stuff unguarded- and keep running in a fluid motion. The brunet jumps the last two stairs, running clean out the door and out onto the street. Eugene pauses for only a second- his legs burn, his breath is running out already, god does it suck getting old- before catching sight of a red hoodie disappearing behind one of the houses. 

Dead grass crunches under his feet as he runs after the thief, loose stones shifting under the treads of Eugene’s boots. He skids around the corner, sees his quarry slowing down- he’s catching up- and keeps running along the side of the house. The other person fumbles with the bag for a second, trying to jostle it onto their back, and Eugene sees his chance. 

With a burst of speed he manages to latch a hand onto the hooded figure’s lower arm, gripping tight as they yelp in fright. Eugene digs his heels into the dirt, forcing them both to stop. The thief yanks their arm roughly, desperately, trying to pull themselves from Eugene’s hold, but it’s like fighting a kitten- Eugene’s pretty sure he could hold this guy with one arm.

“Let go!” The person yells- 

Eugene feels his heart sink. 

That voice sounds… young. Younger than anyone he’s heard in a long time. The thief yells again, high pitched and cracking in a way that screams not an adult. Their height, Eugene dazedly realises, is almost half his own. His sword hadn’t hit them because he’d aimed for an adult’s height- too high to hit the kid. Eugene feels himself go numb as the hood covering the other’s head falls back with the rough struggling- Eugene catches sight of baby blue eyes, wide and innocent and so, so scared, set deep in a face that’s still losing baby fat-

Good lord-

The kid- because that’s what he is, a kid, just a little kid, out here on his own- yells again, but Eugene doesn’t even register what he says. Eugene feels torn back to his own childhood, countless years looting houses in a world that’s filled with gangs and thugs and crumbling ruins, stealing to survive just another night in the dark, trying to escape the cold before it sinks so deep he’ll never get it out. The boy in front of Eugene scowls, an ugly, angry expression that squishes those baby cheeks.

He can’t be older than fifteen-

Eugene’s grip loosens.

It’s all the kid needs to yank his arm from the man’s grip, turning tail and sprinting away. Eugene pauses for a second- was it right to scare the kid? Chase after him like a dog on a scent for his backpack? Eugene could surely get supplies somewhere else-

He thinks of that flash of fear in those eyes.

With a huff, Eugene begins to chase after him.

“Hey!” He yells again, “Hey, stop! I’m not going-” He huffs for breath as he runs, gaining slowly and surely on longer legs, god he hates getting old- “Going to hurt you! Just- wait!”

The kid doesn’t wait, scrambling across the backyard and towards the fence. It’s chain-link, blocking the yard from the woods beyond. Eugene picks up the pace as much as he can, dashing forwards- if the boy gets up and over the fence he’ll be long gone before Eugene can try and… Hell, Eugene doesn’t know what exactly he’s going to do when he catches the kid, surely someone so young has to have an adult nearby? He can’t be out here all alone, right? 

The kid leaps up, grabbing onto the rusted metal and starting to climb. Eugene skids to a stop right after him, catching the kid around his- too thin, too small, what the hell has this kid been eating- waist. 

The boy shrieks as Eugene pulls him off the fence, trying to cling tight but unable to fight with his slight weight. Eugene has to hold tight against the squirming, the feeling of too-thin fingers digging into his arms is barely annoying. The boy snarls something wordless, trying to dead-weight out of Eugene’s gentle grip, but when that doesn’t work the kid takes to screaming instead.

“No!” The kid spits, “No, no, NO!”

Eugene holds firm, ignoring violently kicking feet as the kid starts to properly panic. He can feel the boy’s chest stutter with gasping breaths- something along the lines of guilt springs up in Eugene as he drags the small figure back from the fence.

“Hey- HEY!” Eugene finally snaps, “Will you quit it- I’m not going to hurt you!”

The boy flinches roughly. The guilt goes from a small flutter to a full-on twist of Eugene’s stomach. At least those limbs stops struggling, going limp in a way that concerns Eugene- the way the kid plays dead speaks from experience, of being in a situation where the best thing to do was to stop fighting.

Something in Eugene’s heart starts to hurt at the thought.

He slowly sets the kid down- small boots touch the dry, dead grass with a crunch. The boy shudders as Eugene slowly unwraps his arms, the man stepping back with a sense of hesitance. Eugene knows better than to totally back off, lest the kid snatch the bag and run again, but he steps far enough away that the kid relaxes. For a second all they do is stare at each other, huffing for breath in the wake of the chase; Eugene can feel a small ache digging into his back from the roughhousing. The kid looks terrified, though he covers it well enough with a scowl that reminds Eugene of a pissed off kitten. Now that Eugene can get a good enough look at him, though, the guilt and worry cements itself into a nice little stone right in the center of his stomach.

He’s thin, so, so thin, and short, and… small, in a way that screams malnutrition. Big, baby blue eyes peek out from under shaggy, unwashed hair, sunk deep into the kid’s skull, surrounded by rings of purple bruises. No food, no sleep, Eugene’s mind murmurs, no care- is he all by himself out here? They’re in gang territory, there’s nothing for miles; and the way the kid looks, there’s no way he’s part of Saporian ranks.

The boy glares up at him with a scowl, it’s not exactly threatening coming from such a small kid, but Eugene’ll give credit where it’s due; at least the kid is trying. A smattering of freckles cross pale, sunken skin, though they’re light, like they haven’t seen sun in a while. It’s strange, especially during the middle of summer, but not what Eugene has time to focus on at the moment.

“What do you want?” The teenager spits, shoving the bag away. It lands with a crash at Eugene’s feet. “You’ve got your stupid bag, now leave me alone!”

“I- you stole from me first!” Eugene splutters, offended. The kid sneers just that little bit more- the guilt in Eugene’s gut floats away like a startled bird. This little shit-

“Bite me!” The boy snarls, backing away slightly. It makes Eugene pause for a second- being aggressive wouldn’t do much for either of them. The wind picks up just a little, a chill starting as the sun begins to set over the horizon. Before he can think, he’s gently taking the kid’s wrist to keep him from running off. The boy flinches again, more controlled but still obvious.

Children are a… rarity, in this day and age, Eugene hasn’t met anyone under eighteen in years. Sure, there are still kids in and around the larger settlements, but they’re usually hidden away and kept safe- not left out here in the wastes where they’re basically food for the crows. Even in the chaos of the initial blackout, Eugene had been kept safe by whatever community he was in at the time, any adult in the near vicinity taking charge to keep him in one piece. For the boy to be running around this far from a human settlement…

Something was very wrong here.

“Where... where are you parents?” Eugene asks softly, “What are you doing all the way out here?” Aggression, as he’d realized before, wasn’t working- it’s time to swap tactics. It seems to work, thankfully; the kid’s posture relaxes minutely at the softer voice.

“I… not here.” The boy mutters. “And I- I’m trying to get home.”

“Home?” Eugene feels his head cock to the side. “How far are we talking here?”

Blue eyes flick away from his own, the boy avoiding Eugene’s gaze. That small figure slouches into itself, the red hoodie almost swallowing the kid underneath. He mumbles something that Eugene can’t pick up, the man struggling.

“Care to repeat that?” He says, and the teenager tenses.

“I’m not telling you.” The backpack-thief mutters, looking away. “You just attacked me!”

“Might I remind you,” Eugene says, “That you stole from me, first.”

There’s a beat, the kid biting his lip. Eugene waits, he’s a patient man. The kid’s already wavering, won’t take long-

“Corona.” The kid finally spits out. “I’m going to Corona.”

Eugene bursts out a loud laugh- it echoes around the empty backyard and startles a few birds from their perches.

“That’s adorable.” He says, “Corona’s a week from here- there’s no way you got out this far by yourself- let alone getting back by yourself.”

The kid pauses for a second, thinking it through. Eugene shoots him a winning smile, trying to win the teenager over. His mind races, trying to think of where the hell the kid actually came from. There’s not a settlement for a good day in any direction. If he’s from nearby, Eugene could take the kid home, see him into the arms of his parents and wash his hands of it-

“You’re right.” The kid says, a grin taking over his face. “I won’t get there by myself- but if you get me there, then I can promise my sister will give you anything you want.”

“Your… sister?” Eugene says flatly. “There is no way I’m dragging you across the state, pipsqueak, so you can just-”

“My sister is Rapunzel of Corona.” The kid cuts him off, and Eugene’s mind goes blank with shock.

Everyone has heard of Rapunzel of Corona- the woman was basically a legend. Her parents, and by extension she, ran one of the largest trading hubs in the new world- with a population so large it was by all terms an actual city. She was said to be one of the strongest leaders of the new age, one that people flocked to; Corona was the city of light, a beacon that drew those who needed shelter towards it. Eugene remembers, idly, that they had run into trouble a few months ago, but supposedly had rebuilt stronger than ever.

“If she is your sister, then what the hell are you doing so far away?” Eugene asks, and the kid perks up. “Was it the attack, the one a few months ago?”

The kid nods vigorously, bouncing on his feet a little. “We were attacked- I was, uh, separated from them in the chaos.”

That’s… suspicious, but Eugene will question it later.

“And now you’re trying to get home. To your sister. One of the most influential people on the continent.”

The teenager nods again, a small smile lighting his face. “And if you get me there, she’ll give you all the supplies you can carry.”

“How can I be sure you’ll keep your word?” Eugene may have a bit of a bleeding heart for the wasted youths of the apocalypse, or whatever, but he’s not a moron. The kid shifts slightly, reaching a hand into his pocket. Eugene tenses a little, expecting a knife or, god forbid, a gun, but relaxes when Varian just pulls out a small puck of what looks like-

“I-Is that gold?!” Eugene stutters as the kid holds it out to him. He takes it, looking it over, and feeling himself get even more shocked at the sight of the emblem of Corona, a stylized, shining sun. It’s hefty, solid. It glitters in the sinking sun and almost seems to glow.

“It is.” The kid says, not a hint of smugness in his tone. “It’s my sister’s crest.”

It is. Eugene knows this. Everyone in the wastes knows what the golden crests mean- that the person holding it was heavily connected to Rapunzel to the point of murder. It’s a boon, a marker of status. The kid’s either telling the truth, or he’s killed someone for it. From the look of the little nerd, something tells Eugene he’s never so much as killed a chicken before.

Eugene reels at the sight of it- he’s never actually seen one in person, but he knows damn well what they look like, and what they mean. Corona is influential, its leaders powerful. If Eugene gets the kid there in one piece, he can barter for a lot more than a pack full of supplies, especially if he plays his cards right. The gears in his head finally start turning faster before coming to a simple conclusion.

Well then.

“Looks like you’ve got yourself a bodyguard.” Eugene grins. He hands the emblem back to the teenager in front of him with a grin, the kid’s face lighting up at the agreement. There’s something dangerously close to hope in those baby blue eyes, but Eugene won’t pop his bubble quite yet. It’s not like the trip is hard, per-se, more tedious than anything, and if the teenager’s telling the truth then Eugene is about to make a hell of a profit.

And, a small voice in the back of his head whispers, even if he’s not, at least the kid will be home safe.

Eugene shakes his head, dispelling the thought. Kindness doesn’t get you very far in the wastes, save for maybe far underground. Six feet, to be exact.  But the crest is real. The kid’s important.

And he just wants to go home.

Eugene sighs, and sticks out his hand for a shake, trying not to let the guilt hit again when the boy flinches again. His hand hovers for an awkward second, the silence stretching for just a bit too long.

“My name’s Eugene.” The man says, wiggling his fingers in an attempt to lessen the tension. If they’re going to be walking together for the next week, might as well get to know the kid a bit. The boy tenses, biting his lip for a brief second, before taking Eugene’s hand and shaking it hesitantly. It’s small in his, the man’s palm nearly bigger than the kid’s whole hand.

“...Varian.” The boy finally says, softly, hesitantly, like he’s not even sure how to do this. Eugene lets his face slip into a smile, trying to set the kid- Varian- at ease. It works a little, the tense energy bleeding out of Varian’s shoulders at long last. The sky above them has gone a blood red with the sunset- Eugene notes with a small grimace that they’ve been here much too long.

“Alright then, goggles.” He says, “I say we make camp for the night and discuss our routes.”

And with that, Eugene scoops up his bag by the strap, swinging it up onto his shoulder with a grunt and spinning on his heel. He starts to walk, not bothering to check if Varian is following.

With a small smirk, he hears the hurried rush of footsteps behind him. Eugene can’t help but roll his eyes, thinking to the week ahead. The road to Corona’s quiet, so long as you keep your head down, it should be an easy enough walk, even with a little hanger on. He chances a glance back, just in time to see Varian trip over a loose stone, the kid nearly falling over in a scramble to stay upright. Eugene can’t help but snort, rolling his eyes and facing forwards.

Yep, easy.

They make camp outside of town, far enough into the woods to be well out of sight, but not so far in as to make easy prey should an animal come looking for dinner. They hunker down in the roots of a massive tree, the thing offering a little shelter from the evening wind. Eugene even is able to make a small fire, which is a rarity- but a welcome one. He grins as that first spark takes, catching the brittle paper he’d gathered from abandoned bookshelves. The fire grows slowly, summer dry tinder lighting with barely any effort at all.

Eugene leans back with a groan, content to let the fire burn for a while. Varian sits across from him, curled up in a ball with his arms wrapped tightly around his bent knees; the kid looks skittish, like something’s about to jump out from the inky dark spaces between the trees and attack them. Eugene remembers being that young, being scared of what could be lurking in the gaps between the known, but the kid would have to get over it sometime.

This world doesn’t have much patience for cowards.

The fire burns weakly between them; the only noise is its quiet crackling as it eats away at the wood Eugene had tossed in to keep it alight. Eugene sighs as he drags his bag over, the worn fabric making a scrtch noise as it slides through the dirt. Varian doesn’t look up from the fire as Eugene digs around for a second, the man grunting with thought has he drags out a handful of… well it could technically be called food. Preserves, to be kind. Nasty, dried out jerky chunks that tasted like tree bark and had the texture to match, to be literal.

Disgusting, to be blunt.

Eugene grimaces as he draws the food out from his bag- he needs to make a stop soon, probably even the day after tomorrow if he’s feeding the both of them. Varian doesn’t even seem to have a change of clothes, let alone supplies of his own; Eugene would like to see the kid eat something to calm his own conscious. Kid’s too thin, even for the lifestyle they both are forced to live by circumstance.

Every time Eugene looks at Varian, the twist in his gut gets tighter. The kid looks beat to shit, to be brutally honest- even in the paleness of his skin, Eugene can see a few fading bruises poking out from underneath the teenager’s sleeves. Eugene can feel his face fall into a scowl at the sight- what the hell had happened to Varian before this?

With a sigh, Eugene fishes out another piece of jerky and holds it out to the kid. Varian startles when Eugene’s hand gets close, the faraway look in his eyes dissipating like fog. The boy stares at Eugene with suspicion as the man draws near, eyes flicking between Eugene’s face and the food in his outstretched hand.

“C’mon,” Eugene mutters, already done with the cautious act, “We both know you don’t have any supplies. I feel like your sister wouldn’t appreciate it if I let you starve to death.”

Varian tenses. Eugene sees his mistake immediately, if not in the way the kid’s eyes snap shut, then in the way his shoulders raise up. Varian brings up a hand to shove at the offering, pushing the food away and into Eugene’s chest.

“Not hungry.” The kid says, “You eat it.”

Eugene shrugs, but doesn’t push. “Your loss,” He says, and moves back to the other side of the fire with a forced casualness. He can’t exactly pin Varian down and force him to eat- not yet at least. If the boy keeps denying food, then that’s a bridge Eugene will burn later. For now he can be patient.

They sit in relative silence for the rest of the night- Varian nods off eventually, leaning up against a tree as he drifts off to sleep. Eugene’s used to staying up late; he pokes at the fire as the moon climbs higher and higher in the sky.

Something about this isn’t right. Eugene can’t quite put his finger on exactly where he’s being lied to, but this whole thing feels like a stack of misinformation. The only thing Eugene can’t figure out is why- if the kid’s not really from Corona, why is he so insistent on getting back there? And where did he get the crest? If Varian is telling the truth, at least about his home and family, then why the hell is he a good week’s walk away from home and scrounging for food in the wastes? Eugene’s a grown ass adult, and even he finds it hard to survive out here from time to time- he can’t imagine what it’s like for Varian, who looks about as intimidating as a kitten and hits just as hard.

There’s a lot of little things that make Eugene’s instincts fire- the shaking, the flinching, the distrust, the lies. It all points to Varian being disingenuous, or at least not entirely truthful. Usually it would make Eugene’s hackles raise. Usually it would make him wait for night, and use the cover of darkness to slit the offending party’s throat and move on. Eugene didn’t live this long being a sucker- and he doesn’t much appreciate being taken for one.

But something in the way Varian speaks- in the way he sounds so, so sure that once they get to Corona Eugene would be rewarded, the way he seemed too earnest for someone to help him get home, an adult to trust, the unbridled hope that Eugene would help him, it all pointed to a kid who really was just looking for help. The way Varian still, on some instinctual level, trusted Eugene even when it was obvious that he was scared, made Eugene want to work with him.

And maybe, just maybe, something in Eugene feels bad about seeing a little kid separated from their family and left out to rot in the wastes.

He’s not sure why Varian’s out here, so far from home. He’s not sure who’s been hurting Varian to the point where the kid’s first instinct is to flinch when someone gets close. He’s not sure what, exactly, the kid’s not telling him.

He’s not sure about a lot, to be honest.

But Eugene is sure of one thing. No one deserves to be left alone in the crumbling ruins of a dead society without a fighting chance. Others had protected Eugene when he was small- now it’s just his time to pay it forwards, and see if he can’t make the world at least a little brighter.

There’s a small movement on the other side of the fire, and Eugene’s eyes drift over to Varian. The kid’s curled up in a tight ball, but it seems more out of preserving warmth than out of fear. His face is relaxed in sleep, lax and soft in a way that screams innocence. Eugene feels his heart twist again. Whatever the kid was doing out here, it couldn’t be good- no one that young ended up separated from their family for good reasons, especially not when they wanted to go back.

And that’s the kicker.

Eugene’s met people- adults in their own rights, but fresh ones- that are on the older ends of their teens and early twenties. Usually even at that age, they’re still shackled to their families- unless they’d run fast, and run far.  But something in Varian doesn’t hit him the same way they did, doesn’t draw out that same sense of orphan comradery. The boy in front of him strikes a new nerve… something almost protective.

Eugene shakes himself, poking at the fire roughly.

There’s no room in the wastes for softness like that. Varian’s a means to an end- a ticket to a backpack full of supplies and a place to sleep for a few nights. Nothing more, nothing less. Anything else was simply the isolation getting to him, a misplaced sense of duty to those who were too useless to protect themselves.

Varian makes a snuffling noise in his sleep, curling up tighter against the chill of the evening. Eugene braces as a breeze drifts by, settling in for a long night. He leans back against the tree with a tired groan, the small aches and pains in his knees and back hitting hard now that he’d been sitting for a longer period of time. The fire crackles, small and controlled, but still bright in the darkness.

Eugene felt the grips of sleep start to take him, slow but steady as he slouches back against his own tree. He thumbs quietly at the hilt of his sword- out and ready should anything happen during the night- and shuts his eyes. His breaths begin to even out, rhythmic and paced, unconsciously matching Varian’s as the older man drifts off.

All he had to do was get the kid to Corona and he’d be on his way; it would be a lot of walking, but a simple job nonetheless. Eugene could already taste the rations he’d be able to barter for with Varian’s return to his illustrious sister.

With a slight grin and the thought of a brighter future, Eugene drifts off to sleep.

Chapter Text

They begin their journey in near silence.

Varian is a lesson in duality, Eugene soon discovers. The kid flip-flops between being a chatterbox and being almost a ghost. It’s unnerving to watch Varian go from excitedly talking about his home in Corona, or the pet raccoon he apparently had (and wasn’t that just an interesting concept on its own), or even small bits about his big sister, to just clamming up entirely.

Sure, the kid isn’t mute. He still answers Eugene’s basic questions and is willing to carry on a conversation, but for the most part Varian seems content not to be chatty. Any attempt from Eugene to dig deeper into the hows and whys of Varian being so far from home gets shut down. It only heightens Eugene’s suspicion- the nagging feeling of being lied to, of being misled. The idea sets him on edge, wondering if there’s something malicious hiding behind those baby blue eyes.

The feeling only gets worse the further they go.

The second day after they start walking the trees begin to thin out. They’d stuck to the forest for the sake of moving around unnoticed- Varian seems to just be following Eugene’s lead for the most part, so at least the man feels a little more at ease with that.

The woods are unwieldy with no one to cut them back, but they do eventually putter out into vast fields of tall grasses and weeds that nearly reach as high as Varian is tall. The place they exit the forest is up on a small, sloping hill; it’s the perfect vantage point to look down into the basin of the field and get a good look at the crumbling structures spread within.

Scattered through the field, towering high like monoliths of steel and wire, are an assortment of satellite dishes. They’re massive, nearly seventy meters in diameter and almost a hundred high. They loom over everything like metal giants. Light, fluffy smoke flows from the bases of the satellites, a large settlement nestled in the bases of the machines.

“A town?” Varian asks, one of the first things he’s said all day. Eugene turns to him, nods, turns back to the town. It’s just past afternoon, the hustle and bustle of at least fifty people from what Eugene can see is hard at work. 

“It’s called the Array.” He says, motioning Varian forwards. “It’s a trading hub.” 

“Oh.” The kid says. There’s a small footpath leading down into the valley, following the gentle slope of the hills. Eugene walks down the rocks and hears Varian hopping along behind him. Kids. “Why do they live all the way out here?”

“It’s safe.” Eugene replies, hitting the bottom of the hill and waiting for Varian to catch up. “Lots of space, and the metal keeps out the worst of the weather. They’re hollow, inside.” 

“Why?” Varian jogs a little to get closer, nearly slipping down the last foot of the cliff. 

“They were machines.” Eugene says, “Ones made to look out into space, before the blackout. They’re buildings, at the bottom. Strong ones.” 

Varian perks up at the sound of that, fully running to walk next to Eugene. “Machines?!” He asks, excitement lacing his tone. “How did they work?” 

“I- jeeze kid, I don’t know. They were for taking pictures of planets and stuff.” The man shrugs, “Something to do with radio waves, they shoot ‘em out into space-”

“Oh! Then I guess they wait for the signal to bounce back and use it to create the image, right?” The kid’s face is lit up like it’s Christmas, bouncing on his feet. “I never knew they used radio waves like that, fascinating!” 

Eugene pauses, looking down at the kid. He’s too… young to know that kid of stuff. After the blackout children were taught by their parents, the adults passing on whatever knowledge was left. There were books, sure, but seeing as by now most people tended to stay in their settlements, children were more likely to stay home and forgo any sort of real education. It’s strange to see a kid with so much knowledge in what is basically a useless field, especially one so young. 

“Yeah.” He finally says, “Yeah, that’s how they worked. Before, you know?” 

Varian nods, looking up at the radio array with curiosity. “That’s so cool.” He whispers to himself, giddy. Eugene can’t help but laugh, rolling his eyes. 

“Come on then, nerd.” 

It’s only another few minutes before they hit the settlement properly, a small smattering of rough buildings and tents slotted between the massive bases of the array. It’s a larger settlement for sure, dozens of people scattered around as they go about their business. Eugene tries not to notice when Varian slides a little closer to him, the kid biting at his lip in a way that screams nervous. It makes a spark of concern run through the man, his brown eyes scanning around for a second. When he spots what he’s looking for, he looks to Varian with a grin. 

“How about you go have some fun while I talk shop?” He asks, gesturing over to where a group of kids about Varian’s age are idly kicking what looks like an old soccer ball back and forth. The kids laugh, running around like a crew of little hooligans. Eugene can’t help but smile a little at the memories it draws from him. He looks down to Varian, expecting to see excitement, but his brows knit in confusion when Varian looks apprehensive. 

“I’m good.” The kid whispers, sidling even closer to Eugene. He looks around at the crowd like they’re all out to eat him; those baby blues are drawn wide and spooked in a way that makes him look like a frightened deer. Eugene bites the inside of his cheek in thought, wondering if he should push. The kid deserved to have fun, but if Varian was as unnerved by the idea of other people, it really wasn’t up to Eugene to make him be social. 

He’d been the same, after the blackout especially. People were a variable, they were scary- they could hurt you, hurt your loved ones, run you to ruin before you could blink- and as a child Eugene had opted to say away too. It’s sad, in a way. The childhoods lost to the wastelands. The innocence eaten by the darkness that pressed in every night, and the bleak refuge that cracked every morning with the rising sun. It’s something that just happens, nowadays. Children were born into the end of the world, tossed out into the depths and told okay, now swim. Varian’s eyes are haunted as he scans the crowd, the boy obviously not trusting the strangers around them with the suspicion of a man two times his age. Eugene can’t help but sigh, covering it up with a shrug.

The waste has no patience for innocence. Maybe it’s for the best that Varian obviously had already been chewed up and spat out by the world- it would keep him alive longer, for sure. Doesn’t make it any less sad, to see a kid so disenfranchised, but it’s not like Eugene is in charge of Varian’s life. Kid can take care of his own demons.

So Eugene shakes his head, twists on his heel. Walks away. Hears Varian’s little boots following behind him as they move deeper into the trading area of the camp. The other children’s laughter dies out, vanishing into the buzz of the crowds. Eugene keeps the kid in the corner of his eyes, watching as Varian continues to scrutinize the people around them with a suspicious face. Eugene rolls his eyes, facing forwards.

“Suit yourself.” He says. 

That night they make camp again. Varian’s still a flighty little shit, though the kid at least has started sitting normally. Eugene had been getting tired of watching the kid curl up into a ball once the sun went down. This is their third night of their weird little deal, and though Eugene is getting more used to sleeping with someone else in his camp he still can’t help but startle when Varian moves out of the corner of his eye. It makes him feel high-strung, paranoid.

Unsafe.

The supplies they’d gotten at the Array are easily enough to make it to Corona- a series of dried preserves and other foods stuffed into mason jars Eugene had grabbed from the bones of a craft store ages ago. The man can’t help but feel a little optimistic as he pokes at their dinner, the chunk of beef- real, honest beef, what a treat- popping away in his skillet. Varian watches with something almost like curiosity, his head cocked to the side as Eugene works. The man can’t help but smile a bit; Varian had slowly been getting less jumpy the closer they got to Corona. It was good to see, even if the kid could talk a mile a minute when he got going. 

Case and point, the kid’s rambling on about propane of all things, his hands gesturing wildly into the evening air. 

“-and when it burns it lets out fifty megajoules per kilogram!” Varian crows, “It’s amazing, it burns so clean, if we could figure out how to harness it then imagine the possibilities!” 

Eugene can’t help but smile, flipping their meal again. “And what could you do with that kind of energy?” He asks, honestly content to see the kid showing more emotion than a teaspoon for the first time in a while. Even if it came with nothing but science talk that went right over Eugene’s head. 

“Well,” Varian’s nearly vibrating from his place on a fallen log, “The way we used to use it was for heating, and cooking- but if we tried hard enough, I think I could get the burn rate high enough to even get steam, which could be used to power basic engines.” 

“Engines?” Eugene looks at the kid with an arched brow. “Like from before the blackout?”

“Exactly!” Varian looks close to passing out with excitement. “Not as sophisticated, mind you, but humans started with basic steam engines for electricity. Heck basically every way of generating electricity were just great big steam engines before the blackout. If we could find a new source, or reimplement some of them on a smaller scale, we could help so many people.” 

Eugene pauses at that, looking at the kid’s unbridled enthusiasm with something akin to fondness, before shaking himself.

“It’s a nice thought.” He shrugs. The food in the pan makes another satisfying sizzle as he flips it. “But good luck getting anything to work. Would take the kind of brains no one has, nowadays.” 

Varian deflates a little at that, slouching even as his face slips into a pout. Eugene can’t help but laugh a little at the way those freckled, baby cheeks squish. It’s adorable. 

“Well, I’ll be the first!” Varian proclaims, crossing his twiggy little arms. “If I don’t bother trying, we’ll never know for sure!”

Eugene shakes his head and scoops their food from the skillet. “Sure, kid.” he says, quickly splitting the cooked meat in half and placing a half on two plastic plates. God bless plastic; even after so long they still was as perfect as the day they were made. With an expectant look he holds one plate out to Varian, who pauses. 

They still hadn’t really crossed the food barrier yet. For all that Varian was opening up, he was still touchy about eating food that someone else gave him. Eugene still hadn’t pushed, at least not after catching sight of Varian foraging for his own food from the woods. Seems the kid wasn’t entirely useless, but Eugene still hoped the kid would at least be tempted by a freshly cooked meal. 

Varian pauses at the sight of the food, eyes wide. His gaze flicks to Eugene, then down to the plate. He still hesitates, but Eugene can see the twitch in his fingers. Got him. The man finally rolls his eyes, sticking out the second plate as well. 

“Would it make you feel better if you picked your own?” He asks, and Varian tenses a little. “I just want to see you fed, okay? Nothing behind it. If all you ever eat are berries and mushrooms, you’ll never grow big and strong like me.”

Varian scowls, but still reaches forwards. His hand hovers between the two plates for just a second, before he takes the one Eugene hadn’t originally offered. 

“Thanks.” The kid says, scooting a little closer to Eugene. They’re no longer seated across from each other, now more like a quarter of the circle away. Eugene merely nods with a quick tilt of the head before digging into his own food. It’s a little bland, but for road-food it’s better than Eugene’s used to. He’ll call it a win.

“Don’t mention it, goggles.” He says, shrugging. Varian’s face splits into a small smile, scooting even closer. Eugene points at him with his fork, warding him off. “Ah, hah, no, you back up with the weird kid-affection, I only fed you because your sister would murder me if I didn’t.” 

Varian pauses, weighing his options, before scooting even closer, so that they’re nearly side to side. Eugene grumbles but lets him do as he pleases; it’s not like Varian could really do much damage just sitting, right? Varian smiles in a way that’s borderline smug. He watches as Eugene takes another bite of his meal, the man pointedly not meeting the kid’s gaze. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Varian’s eyes narrow, scrutinizing, before hesitantly stabbing a chunk of beef with his fork and slowly biting it. 

Ah, small victories. 

They eat in relative silence, Varian picking away at the food much slower than Eugene. That’s something Eugene knows is common enough; adults are used to having food torn from them if they don’t eat fast, but it takes a special kind of bastard to steal food from a kid. Case and point, Eugene wraps up his meal a good fifteen minutes before Varian’s done. The man settles back against the tree behind him, thumbing at the hilt of his sword and looking out into the field around them.

It’s a little more exposed than Eugene would like, but being this close to the Array means they’re most likely safe. Raiders and bandits hardly ever came so close to big settlements where the masses were overwhelming. Most raiders, as Eugene knows well, win their fights by sheer numbers and the element of surprise; a hub like the Array, while tempting, was much too big of a target to be feasible.

The moon steadily rises, the sunlight of the day slowly leaving the plains behind. For a second, the world seems to settle into the calm of the night. Eugene lets himself sink into a slouch, sighing as he stretches. He looks over the field of grass, half paying attention to their surroundings. Varian follows his gaze, looking out to the field as the grasses flutter like waves. He looks nervous. 

“What?” Eugene elbows the kid with a laugh. “Scared of the dark?” 

Varian grimaces, but takes another bite of his food. Eugene waits somewhat patiently as the kid chews, rolling his eyes as the kid fidgets. Varian finally swallows, looking at Eugene with a nervous expression. “More like scared of what could be in the dark.” He murmurs. The kid looks down to his plate again, going quiet. He looks like he’s gonna puke, to be honest. If he does, Eugene is not the one that’s going to be cleaning it up. Eugene arches a brow, but doesn’t push.

It’s a valid fear, nowadays, to be scared of what lay beyond the known. 

A few more hours pass like that, until it’s nearly early morning. Eugene phases in and out of sleep, used to lightly dozing to keep himself alert enough to be aware of his surroundings. Time passes quickly without anything to really distract him. Eugene is an early riser, even if the kid doesn’t seem used to such a schedule; it’s natural for him to rise and fall with the sun, as the light of day is easily the best time to be active. The kid, however, seems to be used to a much laxer schedule- he zonks out whenever the urge hits him, for the most part. Case and point, Varian falls asleep quickly with a warm meal in him, leaning up against a tree and curling up into himself to preserve warmth. Eugene is close to following him, the man yawning thickly and stretching to shake the fatigue from his limbs. The kid snorts in his sleep, slipping a bit to rest against Eugene’s side. He grimaces, shifting the kid up and off him- none of that thank you- and sets Varian upright against a tree.

It’s because of that, that Eugene nearly misses the cracking of twigs in the forest behind them. 

Eugene’s eyes snap open in a second, scanning the darkness of the pre-sunrise hour. It’s quiet, just as still as it was a second before the noise, but at the risk of sounding cliche- it’s too quiet. The movement of animals has stopped in the brush, the sudden stillness all that more pronounced as the wind slows to nearly nothing. 

The smell of propane leaks through the air.  

There’s another snap of a twig, this time closer to them. Eugene’s grip on his sword tenses, and with the unoccupied hand he elbows Varian hard enough to wake him. The kid snorts awake, flailing at the rude motion and throwing his hands out in a weak attempt to smack Eugene away from him. The man grabs at one of his arms, catching Varian’s attention. The kid stiffens when he catches the look on Eugene’s face, stilling slowly. Eugene tries to ignore the punch of guilt at the borderline terrified look that shoots across Varian’s face for a split second, only to settle into something concerned.

“What is it?” The kid whispers, looking out into the darkness with a nervous expression. “An animal?” 

Eugene waits. Listens. Another twig snaps.

He shakes his head.

“Too small,” he hisses back, “And there’s multiple of them.” Varian goes downright pale, looking at Eugene with a sense of horror.

“People?” He asks, hands coming together in an anxious, wringing motion.

“Gotta be,” Eugene mutters. He chances a look away from the kid, slowly rolling forwards until his feet are underneath him. 

“You said because we were so close to the Array-”

“I know what I said!” 

Varian flinches back at the hiss, shrinking even further into himself. Eugene sighs, running his free hand down his face. They don’t have time for this- he’s not sure who’s skulking around out there but it’s not exactly confidence-inspiring that they aren’t trying to make themselves known. He can apologize to the kid later, for now the have bigger problems.

“I know what I said.” He repeats, “And I was wrong. We’ve got to move.” 

He gets his feet under himself, slowly standing with a cautious look to the dark woods. The footsteps have gone quiet out there, it sets his teeth on edge. Varian follows him up, a lot less silently and even less graceful. Eugene sighs- this kid’s going to get them both killed. The man hoists the backpack up and onto his back with a practiced, near silent motion. The noise of the fire cuts through most of the shuffle of their movement, a small stroke of luck as Eugene shifts his weight to account for the bag. 

“Alright,” He mutters, “We go back to the Array. If we get separated, you run fast, and you run far.” 

Varian looks downright nauseous, but the mention of being separated makes him go positively green. The kid wrings his hands, almost tearing through the leather of his gloves with how tight the grip is.

“We won’t though, right?” The kid asks desperately, nearly begging for Eugene to lie to him.

“We might.” Eugene isn’t one to lie, even white ones. Not with scenarios like this. “And if we do, you keep. Going. Are we clear?” 

Varian looks ready to faint. He starts to shake his head in denial, but stops when Eugene levels him with a glare. Varian looks at a loss before finally sighing and looking away, refusing to meet Eugene’s glare head on. 

“Okay.” The kid mumbles.

It’s the best Eugene’s going to get. 

He scowls, holding his sword up. “Let’s go.” He says, starting back towards the Array. It’s almost sun-up, if they get to the safety of the settlement, they can wait an hour for the light before carrying on. Eugene knows they’ve got to move, and quick; they’ve already spent enough time out in the open. If they get caught out here by themselves, it’ll be a bloodbath. Varian’s obviously not a fighter, or of any use at all if Eugene’s brutally honest- catching the kid was frightfully easy, and if that were to happen in a fight, they’d both be screwed. He only turns his back on the kid for a second, getting ready to get moving-

But a second is all that’s needed. 

“Eugene!” Varian’s startled voice cuts through the quiet evening like an axe, shattering the fragile peace into a million pieces. The man whips around just in time to see Varian duck away from a tall figure who had lunged from the bushes behind them. Varian’s shoes scramble in the dirt as the kid scuttles away from the attacker- Varian looks ready to scream again as he scurries behind Eugene. The brunet feels small hands grab at the back of his jacket in a death grip, feels Varian press his face into his spine. 

Feels the way the kid’s whole body shakes in terror. 

“Ah, shit.” The figure, a man, says, straightening from where he’d lunged to try and grab Varian. He’s about the same age as Eugene, similar height too. He’s lankier for sure, though, with a thin face and long, brown hair tied up into a bun. The way his face splits into a smile sets Eugene’s hackles raising, something about the sharpness in the teeth. 

“This is awkward.” The man says, rolling his shoulders. Eugene takes stock with a calculating look- tall, muscular, a sword strapped to his hip. The way he shifts his weight on his feet means there’s probably a knife in his boot- not something anyone with good intentions would have.

Varian shudders against Eugene’s back. The man can feel the way the kid shifts to hide behind him, though something about it seems too knowledgeable. Sure, it wasn’t an ideal situation, but the amount of fear is way higher than it should be for one asshole jumping at them from the woods. Eugene’s eyes fixate on the attacker, calculating.

“See, funny story.” God, this guy never shuts up, does he? “I kind of need the kid back.” 

Back? The hell-

“I’m not going anywhere with you, Andrew!” The kid spits, peeking out from behind Eugene to glare at the man. Oh. So these two idiots knew each other, then? From the way the guy- Andrew, if Varian is to be believed- laughs, it seems they must.

“What makes you think you get a choice?” Andrew coos, quickly pulling his sword from its scabbard. Eugene tenses, throwing his suspicions out the window. Before he can think about what he’s doing, he’s holding his own blade up in a guarded position, glaring at the newcomer and bringing his free arm out to block Andrew’s view of Varian. 

“That’s where I’m stepping in.” Eugene grunts. “The kid’s not going with you if he doesn’t want to.” 

Andrew pauses, like he’d nearly forgotten Eugene was even there. It only raises his hackles more when the newcomer acts like it’s irritating to have to stop addressing Varian. Everything about this scenario screams not right- it’s worst-case horrifying and best case extremely creepy- and it drives that weird feeling of needing to watch over the kid into overdrive. 

“Oh.” Andrew scoffs. “And who are you? Some hired sword?” 

“Sure.” Eugene shrugs. “Not my usual type of work, but if I get to beat up a creep or two… well then, that’s just an added bonus.” 

Andrew scowls at that, moving forwards a step. Eugene backs off at the same pace, gently bullying Varian backwards so they can keep space between themselves and Andrew. The tall man steps over the spluttering remains of their fire, the thing going out quickly without anyone to tend to it. Varian shakes like a leaf. 

The smoke parts around Andrew like a shawl, splitting open as the man walks closer. The darkness that settles in from the death of the fire makes him look near demonic as he moves towards them with a malicious smile.

“How about this,” He says. The edge in his voice is sharp enough to cut. “Varian comes with me, and we all walk away. Whatever the kid’s promised you, we’ll double it.” 

Eugene hears Varian’s breath hitch, feels those small fingers tighten in his jacket. He can’t blame the kid for being scared- any proper mercenary would take Andrew up on the offer without a second’s hesitation- but Eugene isn’t a mercenary, and he’s not going down without a fight. This while situation may be strange, and arguably a lot more than what he’d signed up for, but if he’s in the thick of it now, and he might as well see it through.

There’s a tense silence for just a second longer, before Eugene makes his move. 

“Varian, GO!” He shouts, shoving the kid back and lunging forwards with a quick motion. His sword raises high in the air as he sprints the two-meter gap between him and Andrew. The other man seems surprised by the sudden change of pace, good, but manages to get his sword in a block to deflect Eugene’s attack, bad. 

Eugene backs off when his hit is deflected, his stance widening as Andrew scowls. For a second Eugene pauses to listen, smiling when he hears the sound of small boots running off into the forest, away from the adults and towards the Array. 

Atta boy, he thinks, smirking as Andrew’s face looks downright murderous. 

“Just had to get in the way, did you?” Andrew grunts. “You don’t know what kind of enemies you’ve made.” 

“Eh.” Eugene shrugs like this is a casual thing for him. “I’m sure I’ll live. After the kid gets home.” 

If anything that makes Andrew even more furious, the man moving forwards to swing his blade at Eugene with a loud yell. Eugene dodges to the left, swings out a leg to kick Andrew in the side of the knee with the heel of his boot. It makes a satisfying crack.

Andrew howls as the delicate joint is bent in a way that Eugene knows must be painful, but still manages to roll to the side when Eugene follows the kick with another swipe of his blade. The shorter of them huffs for breath, he’s not getting any younger here, but smiles when Andrew is forced to back off with a stumble caused by the hit to the knee. 

Eugene takes the time to circle, Andrew quickly mirroring to keep distance. There’s a tenseness to them, two well seasoned fighters waiting for the other to slip up. Andrew’s skilled, Eugene will give him that, but there’s always a weakness somewhere.

All he has to do is find it.

They move in synchronization for a second longer before Andrew makes a clumsy swing. Eugene manages to deflect it, but is forced away with a shout as Andrew draws the sword back with a flick of the wrist and gets a swipe in at Eugene’s sword hand. Eugene feels a pulse of panic- stupid, of course it was a trick, idiot mistake- before the pain kicks in. Eugene backs off quickly, tucking his arm in and hissing at the sensation welling up from his hand.

Burning fire races up Eugene’s arm, the man gritting his teeth against the urge to curse. He can feel blood starting to drip, his grip on his sword shaking from the pain. He chances a look down and grimaces at the sight of a large, but thankfully shallow, slash against the back of his hand. Blood rushes from the wound, though it being a hand injury it’s bound to bleed more than one would expect. Eugene’s eyes snap back up to his opponent, glaring. Andrew smiles at the hit, this time taking to circling. 

“You sure you’re willing to die on this hill?” Andrew mocks, tilting his head to the side. Eugene scowls at the question, mind running at a mile a minute- he had to get out of here, get to the kid. It’s doubtful that Andrew’s skulking around the woods alone, and Eugene’s already bleeding- this is a losing fight, even if Andrew’s hurting too. 

Eugene dodges another swing- good lord, he’s getting slow in his old age- and nearly gets his nose taken off with how close the blade comes to his face. He yelps, falling back as Andrew swipes at his legs, breaking Eugene’s stance and sending him toppling into the dirt as his ankle twists. His shoulder bursts into a dull ache from the impact, Eugene rocking with the blow as his sword goes flying out from his hand.

Shit.

Eugene looks up in a bitter sort of resignation as Andrew raises his sword high, the glint of darkness deep in his eye as he lets out one final shout. The blade comes swinging down, headed straight for Eugene’s head. The man slams his eyes shut, waiting for the pain to hit-

A voice screams.

The sudden smell of sulphur. 

The sound of shattering glass. 

Eugene’s eyes snap open with a gasp, the man looking up just in time to see Andrew topple over, his legs encased in what looks to be purple goo. Eugene’s frozen with shock, watching in stunned confusion as Andrew tries to kick his legs free with a series of violent motions, the man yelling as his feet remain stuck.

“Eugene!” A familiar voice calls, and suddenly Eugene’s vision is taken up by a pair of fearful blue eyes.

“Are you okay?” Varian asks frantically, holding out a hand to help the man to his feet. Eugene takes it, quietly thanking the kid as he’s pulled up. The panic in his chest settles, though it doesn’t disappear entirely. Varian’s tense, the kid tugging on his hand and gripping tight.

“Fine,” Eugene says, his voice a rush of air. “I’m fine... what the hell are you still doing here? I told you to run!” 

Varian pauses, looking sheepish. “I’m sorry.” He says, “I didn’t want to leave you behind-”

Andrew cuts Varian off with a sudden, enraged scream, the man well and truly stuck to the ground even as he kicks violently. Andrew throws a hand out, grasping for the kid with a snarl. Varian quickly jumps away, pulling Eugene with him. Andrew yells again, clawing in the dirt.

“When I get out of here, you’re dead!” He spits at Varian. “Dead- you hear me you little shit?!” 

The kid backs away, tugging Eugene along with him. His face is pale, scared and drawn in a way Eugene’s never seen before. Eugene uses the kid’s grip on his hand to tug the teenager away, breaking out into a run. Varian, bless him, follows without complaint. The two of them bolt for the safety of the woods, dipping into the treeline. Andrew looks ready to scream again as they leave his field of view, and does so the second they hit the forest proper. 

Varian slouches further and further into himself as Andrew’s furious screaming drifts off into the night. Eugene eventually overtakes the kid, his aching hand twitching as he blood flows quicker. He hisses as he tries to move his fingers- nothing’s broken and the cut doesn’t seem too deep, but it stings like a bitch. 

The forest absorbs them like a shroud, covering their rushed footsteps with the gentle sound of leaves in the wind. Eventually they’re forced to stop, huffing for breath. Eugene groans at all the new aches in his body, shaking himself with a scowl. Varian pauses for a second, opening his mouth to start making excuses, but a glare from Eugene cuts him short.

“What the hell was that?” The man snaps now they’re out of hearing distance. Varian scowls, tearing his wrist from Eugene’s grip. The man tries not to feel concerned as Varian puts distance between them, as if he’s scared that Eugene’s going to hurt him. 

“I was saving your ass!” The kid says, a frustrated look crossing his face. “You could say thanks, you know?” 

Eugene pauses. He takes a breath, thinking hard. Varian didn’t respond well to aggression, obviously, so there was only one way to get answers. 

“Fair.” He feels himself try to relax his stance, backing off. “Thank you. But I told you to run, it wasn’t safe.” 

“You were in trouble.” The kid says, like that explains it. Like he was in the right to disobey and put himself in harm's way for the sake of another person. “I wasn’t going to watch Andrew chop you in half-” 

“And that’s another thing.” Eugene cuts him off, “Who the hell was that guy? He looks like the Saporian leader, but we’re way too far…” Eugene feels a sudden flash of fear as Varian goes pale. “Oh. Oh shit are you serious? That’s the Saporian guy? After you?” 

His hand aches.

Varian shrinks as the weight of the situation starts to sink in for Eugene. The kid looks nervous, especially as Eugene’s previously relaxed stance tightens right back up. Varian bites at his lip, obviously unsure as to what Eugene’s reaction will be. The man scowls, shaking his head. 

They’d spent too much time here already, it would be better to get closer to one of the last dregs of society before continuing. Eugene grits his teeth as a twig snaps in the woods to their back, the noise startling the man worse than he’d like to admit. His eyes snap to Varian, who tenses under the glare. 

“We go to the Array.” He says. 

And they do.

The forest comes to life around them, waking up in the threat of a new morning. Eugene keeps an ear out, but he can’t hear anything suspicious; Andrew doesn’t seem the type to try and attack so close to a town. The walls would be closed for the night, as they should be, but even being within eyesight of the Array is enough. Eugene stops them on the hill overlooking the settlement, glaring down at the kid in front of him.

“You have some explaining to do.” He hisses. “And no more dancing around questions, or half-truths. No bullshit, goggles.” 

Varian flinches away from him, his back to a tree, but Eugene can’t find it within himself to feel bad about it. His instincts had been right- the kid had been lying even if it was by omission. 

“I-” Varian stutters, shaking. It’s not cold enough to be from the temperature. “I just- I-” 

“Today, kid.” Eugene’s tone is like ice. Varian flinches again, but shakes himself to keep composure. 

“Andrew’s the reason I’m out here.” His voice sounds pained to admit it, but Varian keeps talking when Eugene’s glare only worsens. “I used to build things, back home. Machines, basic ones, but I was getting close to getting a generator going again.” 

Eugene can’t keep the shock off his face- if the kid could build a generator… 

“Andrew found out about it.” Varian looks downright miserable. “He came to Corona, pretended he and his people needed help. He waited until we weren’t expecting anything and then…” 

Varian’s breath hitches. He scowls, rubbing at his face again. “It was months ago.” The kid brings his hands up to tug roughly at his hair, trying desperately to keep himself together. “I only just got a chance to escape, and I ran for days- and then I found you- and-and-” 

Eugene steels himself. This is way, way more trouble than he had anticipated- Andrew and the gang he ran seemed to mean business- and Eugene had not signed on to be taking on a whole group of people hellbent on killing him and taking the kid. He’s a smart guy, he knows a lost cause when he sees one.

“We’re done.” He says.

The kid’s head snaps to look at Eugene, his hands dropping from his hair in shock. His eyes go wide at the implications, fear creeping in. To be honest, Varian looks ready to pass out. “What?!” He cries, “No, no- you promised you’d get me home!” 

“I promised-” Eugene’s not pulling his punches. He knows when to be harsh. “To escort you to Corona. I didn’t sign up to get murdered.” 

The kid flinches at the word, fully shaking now. “B-but-” He stammers, “You said-” 

“You never said a damn thing about the Saporians.” Eugene spits. “You never said you were being followed. No amount of supplies is worth the risk of pissing them off, even if I just did because you got me into it by being a little liar.” 

He shakes his bloody hand in Varian’s face. The kid goes from white to green, blue eyes looking away with a queasy expression at the sight of blood. God this kid’s going to die out there. 

“I’m sorry.” Varian’s quiet. Resigned. “I knew it was safer with someone else… and I knew you wouldn’t help me unless you didn’t know about them.” 

“You’re damn right I wouldn’t have.” Eugene spits. “And I’m not going to.” 

Varian shrinks back into a tree, refusing to meet Eugene’s glare. The man rolls his eyes with a resigned sort of fury, shrugging the bag off his back and digging into it. He grabs a few provisions, enough for a few days at least, and shoves them at the kid. Varian fumbles, nearly dropping them, before looking up at Eugene with wide, confused eyes. They’re brimming with tears, the teenager looking devastated by the turn of events. 

Eugene can’t care. He can’t let himself care. He’s not a sucker, and the kid’s asking him to put his ass on the line for supplies that are nowhere near worth it. 

“These will keep you going for a few days.” The man mutters. Varian sniffles, but holds onto the supplies. “Corona is due south. Just follow the highway. But you and I? Are done here.” 

Varian’s eyes are massive now, his lip shaking. “I… okay.” He says it so softly. Kid must know he can’t argue, good. Makes it easier. 

Eugene shoulders his pack, shrugging it on and turning to go. He starts to make tracks in the opposite direction from the Saporians, quickly turning a corner around a tree. There’s no point in trying to get sleep until he’s farther away-

A sniffle. 

Eugene feels his spine stiffen at the sound. It’s a sad, lost little noise- a kid, crying. Varian crying. The man grits his teeth, tries to keep moving forwards, but it’s like his feet are suddenly glued to the ground. He stops only a few meters from the kid, out of sight but still within hearing distance as Varian begins to quietly sob. 

He chances a peek around a tree, seeing that the kid’s sunk down to the dirt, back up against the tree as he curls into a little ball. The boy’s got both shaking hands over his mouth, muffling his cries in a way that can only come from being reprimanded in the past. Eugene knows that the Saporians are bad news, they’re a bunch of bastards if the rumours are to be believed; if Varian’s telling the truth, the last few months had probably been hell, and to be left to be scooped up and taken back to that kind of situation…

Yeah. He can see why the kid’s having a breakdown.

Eugene feels his heart tug at the sight. A knot starts to tie itself in his gut. Varian’s so small, curled up and weeping on the forest floor. Something almost like guilt starts to climb its way up Eugene’s throat, taking hold and making it hard to breathe. He shakes himself roughly.

No, no, this is stupid. It’s stupid to risk his ass sticking with the kid, the Saporians have enough people that the minute they catch up to Varian anyone in the near vicinity is dead. Varian’s little runaway scheme is a sinking ship in the making, an ill-fated voyage that’s due for disaster any second. The smart thing to do- the only thing to do- is to keep walking and let it play out on its own.

Eugene was raised in the wastes of the old world, brought up in the darkness with the selfish and the evil. He knows better than to let a bleeding heart make his choices, knows better than to try and tie himself to a lost cause.

Varian sobs again, shoulders shaking as his tears fall into the dirt. The kid shudders, nearly bending in half from the force of his cries. He looks pathetic, balled up and miserable as he quietly breaks down. It’s not a show, Eugene would know. The kid thinks he’s long gone; this is Varian facing his hopeless cause, and knowing he’s screwed. 

He just wants to go home. 

Eugene sighs, rubbing at his eyes with his uninjured hand. The other is still bleeding, dripping liquid ruby into the earth. It would be stupid, nearly suicidal, to keep helping Varian. The kid had lied to him, had nearly gotten him killed-

But Varian’s… bright. Excitable. Smart, too. Eugene had enjoyed listening to the kid prattle on about science, or his pet, or his family… who were surely looking for him, worrying themselves sick. 

Eugene feels that knot in his gut grow tighter, his stupid morals responding to the crying kid around the corner. He’s not a sentimental guy, or at least he thought he wasn’t, but Varian’s tiny, miserable sobs spark something in him- the same feeling that had been brought up the first time he saw how the kid looked half dead. The sudden, strange urge to protect, to wrap the kid up in bubble wrap and keep him from turning out a mess like Eugene himself is. The man sighs, gnawing at the inside of his cheek. 

The Saporians hadn’t been treating Varian well, that much was obvious. It made it all the worse, to see that Varian had only just begun to get some colour back into his skin, the bruises on his wrists only starting to heal, and now Eugene was basically leaving him out to go back to the place that had treated him so roughly. 

Varian’s hands move from his mouth to his eyes, wiping at his own tears in an attempt to self-sooth. He sniffles again, a small, miserable noise. 

Eugene groans. 

This is a terrible goddamn idea. This isn’t going to end well- how the hell could it? Eugene’s going to get murdered, chopped to bits and left for the crows, he’s calling it now.

But Eugene still pushes himself off the tree to his back, quietly walking towards Varian with an even, measured step. The kid doesn’t even notice at first, too busy trying to get his breathing under control. The kid must see his boots come close, though, because for a second Varian looks at them with horror before his eyes snap up to see Eugene’s face.

For just a half second, so quick you’d almost miss it, Varian’s eyes are wide and fearful, streaked with panic. No prizes as to who Varian was expecting to see, but the moment he locks eyes with Eugene the fear drips away into something resigned. He looks wrecked, tears streaking through the dirt on his face and accenting those baby cheeks. Varian sniffles, trying to seem tough even as he roughly wipes away the welling tears. Those big eyes are going to be the death of him, Eugene can already tell. He sighs.

“What do you want?” Varian asks, his voice breaking.

“If I try to get you home,” the man starts- he has to ignore how Varian’s breathing hitches, “Will you please stop hiding things from me?”

The kid looks shocked, like he honestly hadn’t expected Eugene to come back. Those eyes go wide, before blinking rapidly as the kid tries to process. He seems almost frozen, but when Eugene tilts his head in question Varian starts to nod. It starts slow, but soon enough the nodding is fast enough that Varian’s head looks like it’s going to pop clean off.

“I- yes.” The kid says, stuttering over trying to get the words out. “Yes, no more secrets, I promise. I just want to go home.” 

Eugene groans internally at that, lamenting his dumb, aching heart. This is so stupid of him, but hopefully karma would smile upon him for his once-in-a-lifetime good deed. The way Varian’s face splits into a tentative smile, the tears drying on his cheeks, certainly doesn’t hurt either. 

“This had better be worth it, kid.” Eugene grumbles, trying to ignore the way Varian looks at him like Eugene had just personally saved his ass. In a way, though, Eugene probably has. Both of them know that the kid’s dead out here by himself, nothing but a walking target. Eugene can’t help but sigh as the guilt finally starts to let go, and he can breathe again. Eugene’s still a bastard, he’ll die on that hill, he’s a man of the wastes and he will never be caught being anything but self serving. The kid’s still got a boon, he’s still important enough to some very influential people that this should hopefully be worth something. Eugene lets the bitter part of him settle at the idea of profit, even as the bleeding heart in his chest warms.

Varian’s smile grows when Eugene holds out a hand, offering him help to his feet. 

The kid takes it, allowing Eugene to pull him up and out of the dirt. Varian stumbles a little, looking to Eugene with a shaky, grateful grin. The knot in Eugene’s stomach finally starts to loosen, easing as Varian cleans away the last of the tears from his freckled cheeks.

Off on the horizon, the sun begins to rise.

Chapter Text

“Okay goggles.” Eugene says over their afternoon lunch. “You’ve gotta learn how to fight.” 

Varian looks up from his food, arching a brow. Eugene holds his expression, challenging the kid to argue. In response, Varian just holds out his twiggy little arm, gesturing it with a comically confused expression. 

“Have you seen me?” The kid asks, dropping his hands. “I’m built for science, Eugene, not combat.” 

“As you’ve shown, multiple times.” Eugene’s not going to back down on this one, no sir. “But that’s why you need practice. Your chemistry tricks are useful, and they’ll get you out of a tight situation, but you also gotta know how to throw a punch. C’mon, it’ll be fun.” 

Varian looks doubtful, chewing idly on his thumbnail. A nervous tick, for sure. Eugene simply waits it out. He knows the ways of a dumb teenaged boy, they can’t resist dangerous pastimes. His own youth had been enough proof of that.  

“If I remember correctly,” The kid mutters, “I had to save you.” 

“And you did, through sheer, dumb luck.” 

Varian scowls, but nods. “I guess it can’t hurt.” He says, slowly getting to his feet.

Eugene smiles, leafing through his bag, looking for something. His sword’s too big, too heavy for the kid to practice with without the very real chance of him hurting himself- if they had more time, Eugene would pawn something for a lighter blade, but for now all they have is what he has in his bag. It should be in there somewhere…

“Ah-hah,” He mutters, pulling at something in the very bottom of the backpack, long left down there under layers and layers of clothing. With a triumphant grin he pulls out a small knife, barely longer than Eugene’s forearm, in a basic leather sheath. Varian peers at him with curiosity, nerves lacing his eye at the sight of the blade.

“Here we go.” Eugene grins, standing straight and tossing the sheathed blade to Varian without preamble. The boy stutters to life, nearly fumbling the blade but managing to grab it and hold it tightly with both hands. Eugene smiles setting the bag down to his left. “That should work for you.” He says, grinning as Varian looks at the knife with wide eyes. “I’ve had it since I was a little older than you.” 

“My dad never let me use a knife.” Varian winces, pulling the blade from the sheath and looking surprised when the metal glints back at him. “He said it was dangerous, that I should wait until I’m older. Corona’s safe-” 

“I mean, obviously it’s not.” Eugene snarks, cocking his hip. “Or we wouldn’t be out here.” 

Varian opens his mouth to argue, but Eugene can see the gears turning in that big brain of his. After a second more of contemplation, Varian’s mouth shuts closed with a click. The kid finally nods his agreement, unable to bicker. 

“I guess it can’t hurt.” Varian repeats eventually. “But I still think I’ll stick to science, if I can.”

Eugene rolls his eyes and draws his sword. “Sure, kid,” he says. “But for now, I’m going to show you how to deal with your problems the quick way.” 

Varian gulps, taking the knife out from its leather case. He nervously follows Eugene’s stance, his footwork shaky and his arms too far apart. Eugene sighs, dropping his arms and stepping. He kicks at Varian’s foot, nudging it towards a better spot. 

“Bring your feet in.” He says, idly kicking at the other foot. Varian complies, his stance a little taller, a lot more solid. “Feel your center of gravity?” The kid nods. “Good, yeah. That’s the biggest part of winning a fight, is keeping your feet under you. You trip, you’re dead.” 

“Unless I come to save you.” This little shit.

“Sure, unless your plucky waif sidekick comes to bail you out, you’re dead meat.”

The kid scowls, but when Eugene faces him again the nervous expression creeps back in. It only gets worse as Eugene takes his own stance, holding his sword out. 

“Alright, goggles. Follow me. I’m going to show you a guard, first.” 

The afternoon goes quickly after that, the two of them slowly moving through the drills Eugene had learned as an older teenager. He remembers at the start of the blackout, everyone had resorted to guns and other, more destructive weapons to beat the chaos. As things had settled, and as the ammo ran out, people had swapped to blades for necessity, even if it did mean that Eugene’s generation had been left just a little behind. He’d had to learn quick, keep on his feet, and it had served him well. It felt oddly right to be passing on his knowledge to someone younger than him, to know that Varian would be able to use the information to help foster his own safety- and maybe someday pass it on to someone else in the distant future. Like a little piece of Eugene living on even after he was long dead.

Varian’s a quick enough study, thankfully. He’s clumsy, in the way that all kids are when they’re in the middle of a growth spurt. Kid’s fourteen, and it’s obvious that he’s only recently started to gain his height- even if he’s still short. Eugene would be willing to bet that Varian’s got at least one short parent- though a lot of kids nowadays are shorter due to malnutrition. Even if he’s small though, Varian’s quick, much quicker than Eugene had been at that age. The man can already tell where Varian’s advantage over the Saporians had been, during his original run for freedom before he’d found Eugene.

The thought of their pursuers snaps the man from his musing. They didn’t have a lot of free time, they had to move on soon. Eugene looks to Varian with a thoughtful expression, before speaking up.

“Alright,” Eugene grunts when the sun is at its highest peak. “Time to try a spar, and then we’ll get walking again.” 

“A spar?” Varian looks pale, any of the blooming confidence in him snuffing right out. “Like against each other?” 

“That’s typically what it means, yes.” Eugene rolls his eyes. 

“But what if one of us gets hurt?” Varian’s eyes flick down to the bandage wrapping Eugene’s hand. It still hurts, but Eugene won’t let it stop him. He’s had worse, and probably will continue to have worse. It’s the way of the wastes. It’s nice of the kid to care, though.

“I’ll make sure neither of us do.” He assures Varian with an easy grin. “Besides, the forms are all well and good, but if you can’t apply them, they’re useless.” 

And like that, he swings his sword towards Varian. It’s slow, barely a swipe at all. The kid still screams and topples down onto his ass, grunting as he hits the dirt. The knife slips out of his hand, clattering against a stone. The teenager groans, glaring up at Eugene. 

“I wasn’t ready!” Varian gripes, picking himself up off the dirt. “No fair!” 

“Only corpses fight fair.” Eugene says. It’s blunt, but his point gets across. Varian flinches, something like irritation skitters across his face. But Varian still scoops the knife out of the dirt, and stands back up. His hoodie hangs off him as he brushes the dirt off it before Varian takes his stance again, this time looking a little more serious. 

Eugene waits for a second before making another swipe, again slow and deliberately clumsy to get the kid used to the idea of fighting. Varian backs away from it - Eugene sees a break in his footwork, but it’s stronger than it was before so the man doesn’t take advantage of the opening. Instead he moves forwards to follow the kid, mirroring the less than stellar stance and hoping that Varian would take the chance. 

He feels a small surge of pride when the kid does.

Varian takes a hesitant kick towards Eugene’s legs. The man fumbles more than he would, letting Varian have the small win before he twists up and-

Hears the cracking noise of glass. 

Eugene lets out a small shout as he legitimately topples over, his feet trapped in a noxious smelling pink goo. His mind flips to when they’d run from Andrew, Eugene hitting the ground hard. He tastes grass, spluttering as he manages to flip over onto his back and look up at Varian with shock. 

The kid grins, putting his hand in his pocket and drawing out another bomb. Eugene looks at him with what must be a hilarious expression- one of shock, for sure, maybe of offense- because Varian starts to laugh.

It’s a snorting, high pitched thing, the kid covering his mouth as if to muffle the giggles. “Your face!” He laughs, tears of mirth springing up. Eugene can’t help but laugh too, even as he tries to kick at the goo. He’s stuck fast, it seems, can’t even wiggle out of his boots. 

“Yes, fine, haha.” Eugene snarks, “You’re hilarious, now let me out of here.”

Varian keeps giggling, unable to look at Eugene without cracking up again. It is, Eugene realizes with a sudden thought, the first time he’s heard the kid laugh in the last four days of walking together. The idea is both sad and wonderful at the same time, sad that Varian hadn’t had anything to laugh at yet, but wonderful in that now there is- even at Eugene’s expense. 

“Okay,” The kid gasps out, reaching into his pocket. He wipes at his eyes, rubbing away the last of the tears as he draws a vial from inside of his hoodie- and really where did he keep all this junk- before pausing. “One thing.” 

“Kid, c’mon-” 

“Admit that my alchemy can be useful.” Varian’s still shaking with the last ghosts of his giggles, biting at his lip to keep composure. The smushed expression Varian has only gets worse when Eugene rolls his eyes; the kid’s having the time of his life at Eugene’s expense, it seems. 

“I dunno,” Eugene says, drawing it out for the hell of it. Let Varian have some fun, why not? “It’s a fun party trick, but I still say a good stabbing is more than enough to get your point across.” 

Varian holds the vial up, inspecting it in the sunlight. He doesn’t say a word, already knowing that Eugene will break. 

And break he does.

“Okay, fine.” Eugene drops to his back in a showy, dramatic display. “I yield to the awesome power of alchemy and science. Now get me out of here!” 

Varian snickers again, tipping the vial. The pink liquid within hits the goo encasing Eugene’s feet, eating away at it with a sharp hiss. It smells like sulfur, though to be honest with the amount of times Varian’s used his bombs Eugene’s going nose-blind to it.

“There.” The kid says, “Was that so hard?” 

“Agonizing.” Eugene mutters, refusing to get up off the ground. “Absolutely horrifying, this is torture. How could you, kid? I thought we were friends!” 

Varian laughs again. He leans over Eugene, his head haloed by the sun above. “That’s what you get for trying to deny the power of science.” The kid says. He holds out a small hand in offering. Eugene takes it, groaning at the ache in his knees as he stands. He groans as he stretches the aches out of bones, shaking himself to chase away the lingering pain.

“Good fight.” he says. Varian’s face splits into a big grin, the boy looking ecstatic at the praise. Eugene can’t help but mirror it. “We’ll keep practicing, you’ll be a master in no time.”

They pack up after that, tucking away the few supplies they’d used to make lunch and heading off into the wide unknown under a blanket of bright sunlight. It’s much faster a process than Eugene’s used to; with Varian’s help their things are packed away within minutes. When they walk away from the grove, Varian keeps the knife on his belt.

Eugene can’t help but feel calmer at the sight of it. 

It’s another day before they run into trouble again. 

“Ah. Shit.” Eugene says, looking down into the gorge in front of them. Varian looks to him with a curious expression, before looking down to the bottom of the sixty-foot drop. Water rushes by at the very bottom, far enough away to be nothing but subtle background noise. Varian makes a questioning noise at the curse.

“See,” Eugene sighs, “There used to be a bridge here.” 

“Oh.” Varian grimaces at the gorge, peeking back down. At the very bottom, half sticking out of the water, is a series of rusted spires sticking out of the rapids like reaching fingers pointing for the sky. What’s left of the bridge spans the gap, split in half down the length of it. The metal frame is all that remains on the right side, just barely clinging to the rock and proving a very narrow footpath. It’s not safe in the slightest, but to walk around would be at least another three days- time they don’t really have, considering who’s on their tail. 

Dark clouds roll overhead, it’s definitely going to rain, just a matter of when. Eugene can already hear the starting of thunder. If they’re going to chance a crossing it will have to be soon; the rain would only make everything more precarious. The air feels charged, something in it makes Eugene expect lighting, which… perfect.

“It must have rusted until the weight was too much.” Varian says, rubbing at his chin as he puzzles. “Bridges are always weakest in the middle, it’s unsurprising that it would break from there and go towards the edges. The physics say-” 

“Yep, thanks kid.” Eugene says, not wanting to cut Varian off, but the threat of rain looms over them both. Crossing would be brutal if the metal was wet. If Eugene had his way they’d take the long way, he’s not stupid enough to risk life and limb for some saved time unless it’s dire, but with the Saporians skulking around behind them it wasn’t a matter of choice. 

“What are we gunna do?” Varian’s voice is small, the kid peeking over the edge of the cliff again. Eugene reaches over without thinking, gently grabbing the kid by the hood and dragging him back from the edge. Varian doesn’t even question it, going along like it’s a normal occurrence.

“Well, first we’re going to step away from the precarious edge,” he says, “And second we’re going to have to cross on the side that’s still here.” 

“What?!” Varian looks at him like he’s crazy, which he very well might be. Eugene huffs. The clouds above them swirl a little faster; there’s a rumble of thunder off in the distance. 

“We don’t have time to go around.” He says, “Not with you-know-who following. We have to cross here. Even if it’s broken, it’s still metal. It should hold-”

“It’s structurally compromised!” Oh, goodie, Varian seems like he wants to argue, what fun. “If we walk around on it, it could crumble under us! Look at the rust, there’s no way the supports will hold!” 

“We don’t have much of a choice, googles.” Eugene grumps, rolling his shoulders under the backpack. 

Varian pauses at that, his face dropping into a frown. The kid knows Eugene’s right, he must, but that doesn’t mean either of them like it. Buck teeth bite into his lip, a nervous expression taking over those baby blue eyes. The kid turns back to the bridge, looking with wide eyes as the metal groans.

“I should take the bag.” He says, not looking at Eugene. The man cocks his head, but Varian picks at his gloves and doesn’t face him. “I weigh less. If I take the bag we’ll be more equal, hopefully it will make it less likely to break under you.” 

“Are you calling me fat?” Eugene covers the nerves with a joke. It falls flat. “Because, I’ll have you know, I have a figure like Adonis-”

“And you weigh more than me.” Varian’s voice is dry, but Eugene can hear the humour. “So give me the bag, and you can go first, Adonis.” 

The bridge is about twenty meters across. The half still connected is a mess of tangled metal and cracked asphalt, the whole thing drooping down like a wet paper towel into the gap below. Eugene hates this, hates the feeling of rusty metal under his boots as he slowly inches onto the bridge. Eugene can hear is own shaky breathing, feel the thump-thump of his steadily increasing heartbeat. The earth below drops away as he gets farther from the edge, dipping down into the rushing rapids below. The wind begins to pick up, the clouds above so thick it nearly looks like evening. Eugene grunts as the bridge gives a groan and sways a little in the gusts. A thick sense of apprehension coats the air, tense and cloying as Eugene slowly shuffles into the metal support beams on the outside. It’s the only part left relatively intact, a perfect tightrope of steel that’s a foot wide. 

He hears shuffling behind him and knows that Varian, backpack well secured, is following. Eugene continues to move forwards, his boots grating against chipped green paint as he slides one foot in front of the other. The tension continues to mount the further away from solid ground they get, nerves clawing up from Eugene’s chest and settling in his throat. He chokes them down. Varian was already scared to all hell and it was up to Eugene, as the adult here, to at least pretend to be calm for the kid’s sake. He takes a small peek back, sees Varian lagging a bit. The teenager looks positively green, refusing to look away from where his hands are clinging to the metal railing. Eugene takes another deep breath, keeps moving. All they have to do is make it to the other end of this deranged tight-rope.

He’s nearly to the center of the bridge when he feels the first raindrop hit his skin. 

Eugene’s head snaps to the sky just as the rain begins, a clap of thunder ringing loud enough to scare a few birds from their posts. Eugene’s hair begins to stick to his forehead, the rain rushing down in heavy sheets that he can barely see through. The man brings up a hand to wipe the water from his face, trying harder to see, but stops his lost cause. 

The bridge creaks ominously under them. 

“We should go back!” Varian cries. Eugene stupidly looks down, the sudden rush of vertigo that follows more than enough for him. They are ridiculously high up, Eugene can’t help but feel the sickening twist of his stomach nearly take over. When he looks away, he chokes back the bile, gritting his teeth.

“We can’t!” The man argues, turning to face the kid. Varian looks just as miserable as Eugene feels in the rain, though the boy’s pulled his goggles down to cover his eyes at least. The kid looks like a drowned rat, limp, wet hair plastered to his face and his hoodie already soaked through. Varian frowns at Eugene’s denial, but the man simply turns around and keeps shuffling forwards, unrelenting.  

They have to make it.

There’s no other choice. 

The rain comes down in sheets. It pummels at Eugene’s back, makes the metal slick under his boots. He finally draws close to the other side of the bridge, breathing a sigh of relief as the rushing water below disappears past a ledge of sweet, solid earth. He gets all the way off the metal at long last, the surge of adrenaline leaving at the beautiful feeling of dirt under his boots. He hisses out a sigh again, wanting to bend down and kiss the rocks under him-

But that sigh turns into a gasp as he hears a metallic groan behind him. 

Eugene whips around just in time to see a hefty gust of wind rock the metal frame of the bridge, the whole thing shuddering like a house of cards. Chunks of metal and asphalt fall into the gorge below, the splashing noise as they hit water nearly inaudible through the constant roar of heavy rain. 

Eugene just barely catches sight of Varian as the kid wobbles along with the metal frame. Before he can think, he’s running forwards, a burst of adrenaline catches him as he races back towards the kid as the bridge begins to fall apart in the high winds.

Varian shrieks as the bridge starts to crumble behind him, the metal and asphalt giving way and toppling into the gorge below. The kid drops to his knees on the beam, grabbing tightly to it as the bridge continues to collapse. Eugene’s sprinting up on top of the metal before he can think about it, running as fast as his burning legs will carry him. 

Below him, the metal continues to scream.

“Varian!” He yells, stopping short of the kid as a chunk of the bridge falls in front of him. He’s cut off from the kid, he realizes with dawning horror; there’s no way to properly get to Varian without trying to jump, which will result in him either plummeting to his death, or snapping the thin metal holding Varian’s beam in place- killing them both. The only thing left holding Varian’s piece of the bridge up is an upper support beam; the kid is dangling over the drop by nothing but thin slips of metal and a prayer. Eugene’s heart races in his ears, a pulsing, rabbit’s beat as the panic takes him. Varian’s locked up and Eugene can’t get to him-

The bridge crumbles behind the kid like sand, the last of it dropping down into the water below. Varian lets out another wordless scream as his last piece sways again in the high winds. Eugene can see how the kid clings to what’s left of the beam, battered by the wind and rain as the last of the structure begins to slide down into the gorge.

Eugene feels a spike of pure terror as the whole thing gives a sickening jolt down into the gorge, the structural support of the bridge giving way as the seconds tick by. He can’t get to the kid-

“Varian!” He shouts again, reaching a hand out towards the boy. “Varian, buddy, you gotta move, c’mere-”

“Are you crazy?!” Varian wails, terror obviously causing his body to lock itself around the bar. Even if Varian’s smart enough to know it’s not going to save him, his instincts demand he cling to the illusion of safety. Eugene grimaces as the bridge sways again- the rain batters them both, makes it nearly impossible to hear anything outside its roar. 

“Kid, please!” God, if he could get over there without the risk of the whole thing collapsing- “You’ve gotta let go, walk towards me. You can’t stay there!” 

Varian shakes his head with a whine, clinging tighter to the metal. Eugene can see another piece of the metal snap off like a twig. A wave of terror rushes through Eugene at the sight. His eyes widen, snapping back to the kid and trying to shuffle farther out on his ledge. Varian’s still at least a meter away, much too far to grab, but Eugene tries, nonetheless. They’re running out of time-

“KID!” His voice snaps with panic as the whole structure slides forwards and lurches to a stop as it catches on the rockface. “Varian, you gotta trust me, okay?” 

Varian shudders. Shakes his head. Presses his forehead into the metal. 

“I can’t!” 

“You can, you just have to move before the whole thing comes down!” Eugene can feel the panic clogging his throat, clawing at him from within like a wild animal- “Varian, do you want to go home or not?!” 

That seems to snap Varian from the fear, the kid’s head whipping up to meet Eugene’s eye. Eugene holds his dazed stare for a second more, praying for the kid to listen to him. For a second the noise fades, the world shrinking down to the two of them.

Eugene can’t help but feel the relief rushing in as Varian slowly lets go of the beam.

Varian lets go one hand at a time, his expression pained, like it hurts him to do so. The kid inches onto his feet again, shaking and refusing to look away from Eugene. The man nods encouragingly, holding out his own hand as far as it’ll go. That draws the kid’s attention, Varian looking down to it and starting to shuffle forwards, reaching out for Eugene with a trembling hand.

The bridge gives another lurch-

Varian shrieks as he suddenly drops, the kid’s hand just an inch shy of Eugene’s own-

The man lunges forwards with a shout, borderline throwing himself forwards in a desperate bid to catch the kid as the bridge fully gives way, the last of it crumbling into the gorge below. Eugene can’t hear a single thing beyond the frantic beating of his heart, the shrill scream Varian makes as he falls…

And the sudden silence as Eugene’s hand manages to snag Varian’s hand, yanking the kid forward and off the falling beam. The boy slams into Eugene’s chest with a thump, the kid letting out an oomph. Eugene nearly topples over from the sudden weight, but uses the momentum to carry them backwards, holding Varian tight enough to bruise. Eugene twists himself, the motion helping to carry them forwards and onto solid ground. 

They land with a grunt, Eugene cushioning the blow with his spine ow-

The bridge lets out one last groan as the concrete anchors let go at long last. Eugene manages to sit up just in time to see the metal slip over the edge. Just like that, all that’s left of the bridge is a series of holes and a mess at the bottom of the gorge. He hears the distant crash of the metal hitting ground, the splashing of displaced water, and can’t help but laugh. He tilts his face towards the clouds, chest heaving. 

“Holy shit.” Eugene gasps. His eyes are closed, face to the sky. He refuses to open them, content to lay down and let the rain wash at his face. “Holy shit, that was too close for comfort… You good, kid? You were nearly a pancake!” 

Eugene cracks his eyes open again, peeking over to where Varian’s already sitting up. The kid’s shaking, one hand covering his mouth and the other clutching deeply into the mud. He shudders, staring with wide eyes at the place the bridge used to be. Eugene feels himself tense at the wild look in the kid’s eyes.

“Oh. Oh shit, hey, are you okay?” Eugene asks, looking Varian over with urgency. The kid doesn’t look hurt, there Isn’t any blood that he could see… “Goggles, look at me.” Eugene tries to goad Varian, but can’t seem to break the kid’s horrified stare at the gorge. “It’s okay, you’re alright- we made it. You did good.” 

Varian blinks once, twice. Sniffles. Those baby cheeks smush as the boy’s expression crumbles. Eugene tenses as the kid lets out a loud sob, his hands dropping to grab at his own heart. The boy wails, not angry, but generally upset- for good reason. Eugene fumbles for a second before putting a hand on the kid’s shoulder, shuffling closer. Varian tenses for a second, but quickly relaxes when he realizes it’s just Eugene. 

“It’s okay,” The man murmurs. It’s only a little surprising when Varian throws himself at Eugene, gripping tightly to the man’s jacket and shuddering in the rain. Eugene’s wrapping his arms around the kid before he can think, hugging him tightly as Varian works through the panic now that the danger has passed. If it’s also for his own comfort, the feeling of relief at having the kid safe and sound and not splattered on the rocks… well, that’s only for him to know.

“You’re okay.” Eugene says again. Varian sobs into his chest, arms tight around his ribs. “You’re okay, kid, it’s alright. You’re safe, we made it.” 

Varian shudders. Eugene feels those too-thin fingers tighten their grip on his jacket. Eugene squirms a bit under the contact, but the kid only shakes harder, and at the gasping breaths Eugene knows Varian’s not exactly in the right state of mind, so he bears it. He brings up a hand to pat at the kid’s back, trying to calm him down. Varian doesn’t seem ready to move quite yet though, so they sit a while longer, Eugene slowly rocking them back and forth. He remembers his own mother doing that motion with him as a kid, before they’d been separated, before he’d lost her-

Varian sniffles, pulling back and wiping at his face. Eugene lets him go, only missing the warmth a little.

“Next time,” Varian gasps wetly, his breath still hitching, “We go around the death trap, okay?” 

Eugene laughs, tugging the kid into a proper hug, one hand coming up to ruffle rain drenched hair. He feels Varian relax against him, settling into the hug with a small sigh. Eugene feels something in him settle at the feeling of the kid safe in his arms, but doesn’t push himself too hard in trying to figure out what it is. Instead he lets himself enjoy it, squeezing the kid tight once more.

“Sounds good,” he says. 

The rain only gets worse as the afternoon goes on. Eugene huffs, looking at the sky as a crack of lightning lights up the dark sky for a split second. A rumble of thunder follows soon after, long and loud in a way that makes Eugene nervous. It’s only just the start of the evening, usually Eugene would want to press ahead for at least another few hours before setting up camp, but a chance look behind him stops that idea in its tracks.

Varian looks pathetic, to be blunt. The kid shivers in his thin hoodie, soaked to the bone. His hair’s plastered to his head by the rain, skin looking even paler than normal in the dull light; Eugene can’t help but sigh when the kid catches his stare and forces a smile with chattering teeth. 

“Alright.” Eugene concedes, “We’re stopping for the night.” 

Varian perks up at the sound of a break, his shoulders lifting. Eugene looks around for a second more, squinting through the rain with a frown. A little way off, maybe half a click down the street, a lone farmhouse stands. Perfect. 

“C’mon kid.” He says, “Almost done, we’ll get something warm to eat and keep going in the morning.” 

They trudge through the muddy remnants of the street, the cracked asphalt long since split down the middle by countless storms over the years. It’s obviously off the beaten path, though that was by Eugene’s design. Less likely to be spotted, on their current route. It’s a quick walk despite the rough terrain, and they eventually come up to the house.

It’s obviously been abandoned for a long while. It’s a traditional looking farmhouse made of a thick stone base and wooden beams in an almost Victorian style, tall and thin with a large wraparound porch surrounding it. A majority of the windows are long since shattered, and the door’s literally missing, but it’ll do for the night. Another clap of thunder rings out, startling them both. They’ve got to get out of the rain, Varian especially with his hoodie unable to provide a lot of warmth. 

The kid already looks half frozen, noticeably shivering even as they draw up to the farmhouse. Once on the porch, Eugene holds out a hand, gesturing to the kid to stop. Varian pauses, looking at Eugene with apprehensive confusion as the man draws his sword. 

“Hold on,” Eugene says. “We don’t know if anyone else had the same idea as us. Just let me check everything out first, then we’ll set up shop.” 

Varian, probably too cold to argue, simply nods and huddles under the roof of the porch. The kid seems content to have a roof over him, even if he’s still outside. Eugene sighs. He ruffles the kid’s hair before turning and disappearing into the house. Varian bats at his hand with a good-natured expression, but watches with a nervous face as Eugene vanishes into the dark.

The house is empty inside, thankfully. Eugene’s not sure he could handle a fight right now. The inside is just as busted up as the outside, furniture rotted and floorboards warped to shit. It’s by no means five-star accommodations, but it’ll more than do for the night. He quickly finishes a sweep of the house and, deeming it safe, returns to Varian to usher the kid inside. 

They end up sitting at the fireplace of the old homestead, probably in what was once a livingroom. There’s the old, wooden frame of a couch in there with them, a few chairs with the last of what were once pillows still clinging. It’s a big enough room, plenty of space for the two of them. Hell, Varian even manages to find them blankets from an upstairs closet, a rare enough comfort that it’s considered a treat. Soon enough they have a rudimentary base camp going in the ghost of the living room, more than enough to be comfortable for the night.

Eugene drags the wooden frame of the couch over, so they have something to rest against for the night. He looks over to where Varian bends over the cold hearth, fiddling. The kid uses the knife Eugene had given him to crack at a piece of flint, small sparks lighting tinder quickly. Varian smiles, his face aglow with a warm, orange light. 

Eugene flops down with a groan, rolling his shoulders. Catching Varian on the bridge had done a number on his left arm, not that Eugene would complain about it. His eyes shut of their own accord, the firelight dancing through his vision as fluttering shadows through his eyelids. Without looking he throws a hand out, searching for his bag. 

He hears Varian snicker, and then the bag is in his hand. Eugene cracks his eye open and smiles, dragging it closer and leafing through it.

“Alright kid, what’ll it be?” He asks. “We have a bit of the steak left, or there’s some hard-tack, the jerky, or… well that’s pretty much it, I was thinking the fish could be for tomorrow, since that’ll be the night before we Corona.” 

Varian gnaws at his bottom lip, shifting awkwardly. Oh, right, the food thing. Eugene can’t help but sigh, considerably over whatever this issue was.

“Okay.” Eugene huffs, exasperated. “What’s with you? You’re the only person I’ve ever met that isn’t excited at free food, even before the blackout. What’s the deal?” 

Varian freezes a little. He looks like a rabbit caught in a trap, all darting eyes and fidgeting fingers. After a brief silence the kid snaps out of it, looking Eugene dead in the eye. He still looks nervous, but as he slouches down next to Eugene Varian begins to slowly speak.

“When Andrew and the Saporians… uh, yeah- when they attacked Corona, I told you they pretended they needed help, right?” Eugene nods. Varian grimaces. “Yeah. So we trusted them, including the things they did to help us. We had them helping us with a lot of projects, construction mostly since they were bigger… stronger.” He pauses, thinking something though. “We didn’t know they’d been using that as a chance to rig half the town to burn on command.”

“Oh.” 

“Yeah. When everyone was distracted with dinner one night, they set half the town on fire to draw everyone away. I wasn’t at dinner, so Andrew uh… well he brought me some tea, said it would be good to drink something. It was uh, well it was drugged.” Varian’s face crumbles, looking devastated. The kid shakes. “I trusted him, and he tricked me. It’s how they got me out of Corona.” 

“Oh.” 

Varian face is drawn, sad. He shudders, though this time Eugene’s sure it’s not the cold. Varian’s arms wrap tightly around himself, the kid looking haunted as he stares unseeingly into the fire. 

“And it’s not that I don’t- I trust you, Eugene, I do- but something about being offered food… I’m sorry.” 

Eugene sighs. Leans back against the couch. Puzzles for a second as to what to say, before finally just deciding to wing it. He’s not great with the touchy-feely, sure, but he’s willing to try for the kid.

“Nothing to be sorry for. It sounds like they weren’t the most gracious hosts.” He says. Varian snorts, his face splitting into a wry smile. 

“You could say that.” 

Eugene catches as the kid tugs at his sleeves, covering the pale-yellow remnants of bruises. Something in him pangs. 

“You said they wanted you for… what, inventions?” 

Varian nods. Grits his teeth.

“Weapons.” He spits the word out like it’s bitter. “Running water. A hot air balloon. Anything Andrew wanted, I had to create it. They threatened to kill me if I didn’t, and if that wasn’t enough to motivate me then they threatened my family instead. I didn’t want to.” He looks to Eugene with a desperate eye, pleading with the man to believe him. “They gave me no choice, if I didn’t-”

“You’re not to blame.” Eugene cuts the kid off. Varian’s mouth snaps shut with a click of teeth. He looks at Eugene like he’s insane, but keeps silent. Eugene looks at him, locking eyes in a way that dares Varian to look away. He can’t help the spark of pride when Varian doesn’t so much as flinch.

“You’re not to blame.” He repeats. “Andrew and his cronies are. You kept yourself alive, and that’s what matters. Sometimes we make sacrifices to see another day, and that’s what it means to survive. Don’t ever feel wrong about that.” 

“They’ve hurt so many people-” 

“And they were going to hurt you. It’s not a crime to keep yourself in one piece.” 

Varian sighs. He looks down and picks at the heel of his boot, leaning closer to Eugene. “Isn’t it selfish?” He asks quietly, “To put yourself ahead of other people?” 

“It’s the way of the wastes.” Eugene shrugs. “Selfish-and-alive will always trump kind-and-dead.” 

“Then… why did you help me?” 

“Ah, nope, we’re not talking about me.” Eugene can’t help but tense when Varian smiles a little from the deflection. “No, shush. You’re a meal ticket.” 

“Okay.” Varian says. He smiles wider. Shit.

Eugene reaches in his bag again, pulling out the last of their dried meat as a distraction. “Just for that we’re eating the leather strips.” He declares, laughing when Varian splutters in protest. “Nope, you dug this hole, goggles. Time to lay in it.” 

Varian scowls, but when Eugene quietly offers some of the rations, he takes it without question. Something in Eugene’s chest warms when he does, though he refuses to make a big deal out of it. They eat quietly in the light of the fire, Varian sniffling as the last of the cold finally leeches away from their bones. Eugene sighs at the comfort of a roof over his head, a warm fire, and a full belly, closing his eyes and leaning harder against the couch. 

He hears a small shuffle. For a second he wants to move, shift away from whatever the hell Varian’s doing, but then the kid just ends up leaning against Eugene’s arm. He shudders again, still chilly in the evening air. Eugene sighs, and lifts his arm up. 

Varian takes the chance, snuggling close as Eugene wraps an arm around the kid’s shoulders. 

“Don’t get used to this.” Eugene mutters as Varian gets comfortable. “I’m only doing this because I’m cold.” 

“Sure, Eugene.” Varian says quietly. Eugene feels small hands come up to innocently hold onto the cloth of his jacket, Varian curling into his chest.

They sit like that for a long while, Eugene watching the fire as it burns bright in the brick hearth of the farmhouse. Varian’s a light weight at his side, small and warm and safe in a way that brings Eugene a sense of peace that permeates his whole being. Something about being a hundred percent positive that Varian’s safe and sound brings a strange air of calm to Eugene, one he hadn’t felt in years, hell in a decade. It’s a serene aura, a sense of quiet that envelops him and relaxes him down to the soul. 

Eugene, half asleep despite the early hour, pulls the kid closer subconsciously, and lets himself drift off. 

Chapter Text

Eugene dreams of fire. 

It’s not an unusual type of dream for him, the flashes of horrific memories of the year following the blackout. The chaos that followed the lights shutting off for the final time is familiar, but it’s not exactly pleasant either. All he can do is let it run its course, deal with it as it comes, but the flashes are just as violent as he’s learned to expect.

It’s all he can do to choke the panic down.

Eugene dreams of fire and blood. Chaos and agony. A nameless woman screaming over the corpse of her child. A man with his head cracked in two by falling debris after an explosion. Blood painting city streets red after turf wars had reached the breaking point. Cracking gunshots that deafened, the whisper of a final breath as life left a broken, battered body.

He sees his mother’s tear-soaked face.

His father, vanishing into a crowd of frantic, fearful people, struggling to hold onto Eugene’s hand only to fail. His family, torn from him, lost to the all-encompassing flames. The darkness pulling him down, down, down, drowning him in an endless black. 

But there’s something different, a new addition.

Varian, scared and pale, being pulled away just as Eugene’s parents were. Lost to the chaos, torn from him just as everyone else had been. Dragged, kicking and screaming, into the dark by a figure that reminds Eugene of Andrew. The panic that takes Eugene is cloying, thick and wild in a way that makes him near feral, unable to think as he runs in an endless agony to find the kid-

Eugene wakes up with a horrible gasp, wrenching aching air into his lungs. He pants for a second, shaking himself as he thinks, unable to comprehend where he is. The darkness absorbs his vision, Eugene unable to see beyond it. The world spins, the weak breaths unable to keep his mind from losing control. His chest stutters, shaking and unable to force air into pea-sized lugns. He can’t fucking breathe -

“Eugene?”

The world snaps into focus.

The farmhouse. Wood under his back, the hearth in front of him burnt out and cold in front of him. Sunlight, pale but strong filtering through ragged curtains. The quiet of an early morning. Birdsong, off in the distance and the gentle whisper of winds, the world waking up after a long night in the rain. The soft silence of a new day.

And Varian, eyes full of concern, sitting on his ankles with his hand on Eugene’s shoulder, having shaken awake.

“Eugene?” The kid asks again. His head tilts, face awash with worry. “Are you okay? You were talking in your sleep.”

“Fine.” He grunts. He sits up, shoving at Varian’s hand. The kid backs off quickly, giving him space. “Fine, just a bad dream.”

He licks his lip, and tastes the salt of tears on his cheeks.

“A nightmare.” It’s not a question. Varian looks somber, but nervous. “Do you… wanna talk about it? Rapunzel says that talking about them makes you feel better-”

“No.”

Varian flinches at the bluntness, but doesn’t back off. “Because it’s okay, you know? If you need to talk about it. Bottling things up won’t help.”

“Kid, I said it’s fine.”

“But-”

“ Varian .”

It’s harsher than Eugene should be, especially with the kid. The way Varian shrinks into himself is more than enough proof of that. Eugene can’t find it within himself to feel bad, however, with the smell of smoke still clogging his lungs. He pushes himself up to his feet, staggering slightly and wavering as the last of the nightmare finally falls away like a shroud. Varian stays sitting, hands curled tightly to his chest as Eugene stalks out of the room.

He makes it to the front door before the guilt starts to set in.

The brunet pauses at the threshold to the house, sighing and rubbing at his face with his hands. Way to go , he thinks, just when I got the kid to relax . The front doorway’s still wide open, they hadn’t found anything to block it for the night and thus had taken their chances, but Eugene still pauses at the threshold.

There’s no noise from the living room, but Eugene knows better than to think Varian’s dropped the topic entirely. The kid had been open with Eugene about the Saporians, but this… his past was a lot . It was a near constant flux of misery and tough survival, not something he wanted to bog Varian down with. Even in their current world, it’s obvious that Varian’s childhood had been much gentler than Eugene’s, which is a good thing - and all the more reason to keep the misery where it belonged. In the past, buried by time and corpses.

He rubs at his face once more, groaning.

He’s getting too close to the kid. It was one thing to keep the little shit alive, it’s another to feel this weird protective thing about him. Eugene’s never wanted kids, never really given it much thought between keeping himself alive and dodging around human contact like it would burn him. He doesn’t see Varian as a son , god no, but more like a little sibling. Someone who Eugene isn’t entirely in charge of, but he’s still responsible for. Eugene isn’t one to teach the hard life lessons, that’s a father’s place, but more in the idea of keeping the kid in once piece and picking up the pieces when he fell.

But it’s still too close .

Even the brotherly feelings were too much. Varian’s a meal ticket . He’s a means to an end. Not a brother, not a friend, barely even an acquaintance. There’s no room for softness in the wastes, no matter how much Eugene’s stupid, mushy heart feels. He’s getting too invested, too protective.

Too much .

They’re only two days out from Corona. Two days out from dropping Varian and continuing on just like Eugene had planned. He has to remember that, to know that this isn’t permanent. Soon enough he’ll be back on the road, and all of this will just be a memory. Varian goes home, and Eugene disappears back into the wasteland to scrounge until he finally dies. It’s for the best, even if the thought of isolation leaves him with a knot in his stomach.

With a scowl, Eugene leaves the farmhouse.

After the disastrous morning, they walk in relative silence.

It’s not so much awkward, as it is just pensive. Varian’s had a thoughtful look on his face since Eugene had snapped at him, which does nothing to settle the man’s nerves. Despite that, it’s nice to know that Varian isn’t upset. Neither of them bring it up again, letting the awkwardness fade away as the afternoon draws closer.

They’re following the cracked remains of what used to be a freeway. It’s a nice, flat terrain that allows them to move quicker than the woods had allowed, which is a gift within itself. Tall pillars of metal occasionally cross their path, holding the rusted remnants of what used to be signs high above their heads. The asphalt is hot under their feet, cracked and weathered but still holding strong even as plant life eats away at it.

Varian had long since hopped up on the concrete divider and was trying to balance on the thin edge. His arms splay outward in an attempt to maintain balance, the kid wobbling every once and a while. Eugene would tell him to get down, lest the kid topple over and crack his head open, but it’s more worth it to see Varian acting like an actual kid for once.

“Did you know that in an entire lifetime, the average person walks the equivalent of five times around the world?” Varian asks, on one of his tangents, “Though, that statistic was recorded before the blackout, back when people had cars. I bet the distance has doubled, maybe even tripled for people like you!”

“Like me?” Eugene’s tone is light. His pace is slow and leisurely, allowing Varian too keep pace without falling. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Varian sticks his tongue out. Eugene swipes playfully at the kid’s feet, causing Varian to laugh as he’s forced to stand on one leg to avoid it.

“I mean people who go from town to town, the ones who don’t stay in the settlements.”

The sun’s high in the sky, bright and shiny as if to contrast the rain of the day before. The heat thankfully has toned down a bit, broken in the wake of the storm. With the humidity calmed down it’s a lot less of a pain to walk in the open, which is why Eugene’s willing to bring them out onto the highway. Varian certainly seems to appreciate leaving the woods for a bit, happy to not have to dodge around stumps and other obstacles.

“Fair.” Eugene shrugs. The kid wobbles, but his foot ends up settling back on the concrete divider without much hassle, so Eugene lets it go. “But just know that I probably walked at least twice as much as the rest, I’m a well seasoned traveller, don’t you know?”

Varian snickers again. There’s a gap in the concrete, he hops it without pause. “You could always stay with us, mister well seasoned ,” he says. It’s casual, like he isn’t even thinking about what he’s offering Eugene. The man pauses, stopping to look up as Varian keeps walking with his arms out to either side.

“Ha, good one kid.” Deflection’s the name of the game -

“No, I’m serious.” Varian stops too, twisting on his perch to look down at Eugene. “If you wanted to stay, Rapunzel would welcome you. We’d love to have you stick around- if you, uh, wanted, that is.”

Eugene can’t help but consider it. He’s always been a man of the wasteland, full of rough edges and rougher personality, but the idea of being able to stop it all- stop running, stop avoiding, stop being so scared - is tempting. The idea of finally being able to rest, after so long running from his past, to put it all down and let it sleep…

It’s a wonderful idea.

But not a realistic one.

Eugene’s tried living in settlements before. He’s not a team player , per se, he’s used to the freedom that the vagabond lifestyle gives him, the ability to chart his own path, find his own future. It’s something he’s cherished, after watching settlement after settlement crumble to dust from the difficulty of survival. Keeping himself and only himself alive was easy, but involving other people in the mix only served to complicate things. Other people were dangerous, either as a liability or as a threat.

Varian cocks his head to the side, looking to Eugene and waiting for an answer. The man sighs, turning to the side and restarting his pace, faster this time.

“Gunna have to pass, thanks,” he says. Eugene deliberately ignores Varian’s disappointed face. He’d only break under those sad eyes. He focuses down the road instead, listening intently as the sound of tiny boots follows him. “Besides, goggles, I don’t think your big sister would like a ruffian like me in her town. I’m a little more rough-and-tumble than she’s used to, I’m sure.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Varian argues. “I once watched her knock three people out with a frying pan. If anything, you’d be keeping up with her.”

Huh. That sounds kind of hot- no, no, bad .

“Still.” Eugene shrugs it off like it’s not a big deal. “Settlements aren’t really my deal , capiche?”

Varian’s quiet for a second more. Eugene can practically imagine the puzzled expression on the kid’s face, but he doesn’t turn around until he hears Varian suddenly gasp. The noise sparks a feeling of concern- was it the Saporians? Another threat?- but when Eugene turns around Varian’s got a big grin on his face.

“I recognize this place!” He crows, jumping off the divider. The kid fumbles the landing for a second; Eugene’s hand snaps out before he can think, grabbing the kid by the back of the hoodie to pull him to his feet before the teenager can eat concrete. Varian doesn’t seem to care scrambling as Eugene hoists him up with one hand, the boy nearly dangling in that too-big hoodie. Once he’s got his feet under him, Varian’s off again. Eugene only just lets go of the kid’s hood before Varian can choke himself on it, but follows at a slower pace as the kid runs past a series of burnt out cars.

“Rapunzel and I come out here sometimes!” He says, “She used to let me come and pick apart the cars for parts, and she would paint on the signs since they’re so high up!”

Sure enough, when Eugene finally picks his way around the cars, he can see where some of the ones closer to Corona have been systematically picked clean. Varian weaves around them in practiced motions, obviously knowing the layout well. The kid stops short of where the cars end, gesturing up towards a metal sign. Eugene follows the gesture, stopping at what he sees.

It’s a painting, one done in a cartoony, colourful style. It’s beautiful, to be honest. It’s a massive depiction of the Corona sun, the same symbol on the boon Varian carries around in his pocket, but within it is a series of portraits and images, all combined into a collage. Eugene can pick out a woman with long, blond hair being hugged by two adults who look somewhat like her in the very center. Probably Rapunzel herself, if Eugene is to hazard a guess. There’s a few larger portraits as well. Eugene catches sight of a middle-aged man with a square jaw and black hair greased back, just a hint of grey coming from the temples. A woman with short, wavy black hair and olive-green eyes, her face stern but confident. And just below them all, smiling as brightly as the sun itself-

Varian.

It’s like looking at a totally different kid. The Varian in the painting is bright, cheerful. He’s got a tanned complexion and his freckles stand out against the skin, his hair clean and fluffy. The Varian in the painting looks well rested, not a bruise to be found under those eyes, with a healthy pink to his cheeks. The look on his face is bright, cheerful, in a way that smushes those baby cheeks and only accents how young the kid really is.

The Varian Eugene knows is like a shadow of this one, dulled and quiet from his time with the Saporians and only accented by the trip through the waste. It hits something in Eugene’s heart, this stark contrast between the kid in the portrait and the kid in front of him. Something miserable in him bleeds for Varian, left lost and hurting in a world that doesn’t give a shit about anyone, abandoned to the wastes.

Varian follows Eugene’s look, and frowns, looking up at his own face.

“That’s new.” He says quietly. “Or, new to me.”

“It’s nice.” Eugene says, and it is. “Very… colourful.”

Varian snorts, still looking up at it. “Yeah, Rapunzel’s all about the colours.”

There’s a pause between them, both of them obviously unsure as to what to say. It’s a long quiet, drawn out and odd between them; something strange and unspoken as they reflect. It’s just this side of awkward when Eugene speaks again.

“So we’re close, then.” He says. Varian nods, happy for the change of topic.

“About another day.” The kid smiles. “Maybe less if we make good time.”

“That’s all, huh?”

“Should be, unless we get into some other zany antics.”

Eugene grimaces, playing up the dramatics as he starts to walk again. “I think I’ve had my fill of zany antics , thanks anyways.” He says. Varian laughs, running the few steps to walk next to Eugene with a grin. The sign passes overhead, left behind.

Only another day , Eugene thinks. It hits with a pang of melancholy. As much as he likes to gripe about the kid, he’s decently sure he’s going to miss Varian once they part ways. But it’ll be worth it, to see Varian home to the arms of his family. Eugene turns the grit of his teeth into a small smile; even if Eugene’s not in the picture, if Varian can get back to the smiling, happy kid from the portrait, then all of this will be worth it. The kid’s too bright to let something like the wasteland snuff it out, and Eugene is, unfortunately, a by-product of that wasteland. It hurts to admit, of course it does, but the kid had to come first.

No, it would be best for Eugene to get the kid home and move on. Even if they were getting close, in a friendly, brotherly sort of way, the depressive energy that follows Eugene like a shroud would do nothing but smother Varian’s light. Even if it hits with a pang of melancholy, Eugene isn’t a good influence on the kid- hell, in the week they’d been working together he’d already given the kid a knife - and it would be better for that to be removed before it could taint the kid even worse than he already had.

But it’s okay. If it means Varian has the chance to grow up with his sense of hope and joy intact, then Eugene would do it. He wouldn’t ruin Varian’s chances at changing the world with his own bullshit, and in time, Varian would come to appreciate that.

The kid looks up to Eugene with a wide smile, pointing out different paintings that his sister had done, a few cars he’d torn apart as a kid for fun. Varian’s grin is huge, the suddenly very real prospect of getting home taking shape in the lights behind those eyes.

Eugene contents himself with basking in the glow for a while longer, even as the threat of looming darkness closes in behind him. Leaving the kid behind would be painful, but worth it on Varian’s part. It’s like ripping off a band aid, painful and sharp in the moment, but after the initial hurt, things would heal to be better than they are.

All it would take is time.

The pressing dark of evening is an old friend by now.

Eugene sighs, shuddering in the chilly air. Varian sits next to him, shivering as well; they’d been unable to start a fire, the highway too open an area. It’s too much of a risk, even for the light and warmth that was sorely missed as the night drew in and surrounded them.

Varian shivers in his too-thin hoodie, but the kid seems to be trying for a brave face. Eugene rolls his eyes but decides to let the kid cling onto his pride for a while longer. If history is to be remembered Varian will be leeching off Eugene’s body heat by the end of the hour. Their dinner is long since over, so they’re mostly just shooting the shit until one of them- probably Varian - falls asleep. It’s nice. Calm. Simple, in a way that makes Eugene feel at peace.

“So other than your sister, who’s in Corona?” Eugene asks. He’s fiddling with a twig, drawing small designs into the dirt. So far he’s got the start of a face, unconsciously drawing someone even if he’s not sure who it is yet.

Varian looks up from where he’d been using his knife to sharpen a stick, tilting his head in thought.

“My dad.” He says after a brief silence. “And my friend, Cassandra. She’s the dark-haired woman from the mural.” Ah, the angry looking one. “And a few other friends; our blacksmith was going to take me on as an apprentice at the start of the summer but… well, you see how that turned out.”

“I don’t know how I feel about all your friends being my age.” Eugene pokes at him with the stick in jest.

Varian shrugs, laughing a bit. “There’s not a lot of kids around,” He says. “And any that are don’t really, uh, get what I’m up to a lot of the time. Dad says that I would be called gifted in the time before the blackout, but sometimes being into science and math-”

“Being a nerd.”

“Ha. Yeah. Being a nerd makes it hard to make a lot of friends, so I’m not exactly mister popular. But that’s okay.” And the kid really seems to be alright, from the way he smiles. “I’ve got my sister, and a few good friends. And Ruddiger!”

“Ruddi- what ?”

“My pet. He’s a raccoon.”

“How… how the hell did you tame a raccoon?”

Varian snorts, leaning back against a pole. “He kind of tamed himself.” The kid shrugs. His knife makes a little shwick noise as it cuts cleanly through the wood of the stick. “I fed him once or twice, and after that he just kept coming back. Dad didn’t like it at first, but he’s a good boy.”

“Sounds like it.” Eugene shrugs. Sure, pet raccoons. Why not ?

The kid peeks down at Eugene’s drawing, tilting his head as the man begins to scratch a pair of eyes into the dirt.

“Who’s she?” The kid asks, tilting his head the other way. Eugene looks down and grimaces, locking eyes with the image of his mother he’d been unconsciously drawing. There’s a beat of silence, Eugene taking a breath.

“Someone from before.” He finally says. Varian bites at his lip, but inevitably the kid’s starting to pick up on where the boundaries are, as he just nods. Varian looks like he’s struggling not to say something, so Eugene takes pity on the kid and nudges him with his elbow. The kid laughs, shoving lightly back, but eventually spits out his question.

“I can’t remember it.” The kid says. “The before, I mean. I was only four, so I don’t really know… well anything, really.”

“It wasn’t pleasant.” It’s not bitter, but it’s a fact. Varian picks at his gloves, but still pushes forwards.

“Dad won’t ever talk about it.” Squishy cheeks scrunch as Varian pauses in thought. “We, uh, we lost my mom. Dad says she was on a plane when the blackout happened.”

Eugene sighs. Looks down at the drawing.

“I don’t know what happened to my parents,” he says. Varian winces, but Eugene smiles. It’s bitter. “It was a long time ago. One minute she and my dad were there and the next… poof.”

Varian looks stricken at the idea. “You got lost?” He whispers, eyes wide.

“We all did. You don’t remember the blackout. That’s good. Let’s leave it that way.”

Varian looks like he wants to keep prying, but doesn’t do so. Eugene can’t help but feel grateful for it. He’s not really into the idea of dumping his issues on a literal child, no matter how smart the kid might be. He smudges the drawing with his foot, erasing the visage of his mother with one quick stroke.

The stars steadily begin to climb. There’s no moon out; everything around them is bathed in a blanket of shadows and ink. The cold rolls up quickly without humidity to keep it out. It’s a dry cold, the worst type. It’s the kind that digs deep into the skin when you’re not looking and latches tight. Varian shivers again, looking to Eugene with big eyes.

“Fine.” The man grunts, holding an arm out. The boy smiles, quickly sheathing the knife and tossing it. He shuffles closer, hesitant, but not without excitement at the promise of warmth.

“Cold again?” Varian chirps, even as he pushes into Eugene’s space to chase the warmth.

“Yep.” Eugene’s not going to back down, but Varian only laughs. It’s a good sound.

They settle for a while longer, content to lull off to sleep. Eugene blinks slowly, leaning heavily against the pole to his back. Varian quickly dozes off beside him, lightly snoring against Eugene’s arm. Eugene feels the peaceful feeling he’d had at the farmhouse creep back in, swaddling him like a blanket. He sighs, briefly tightening his grip on the kid as a particularly heavy breeze picks up.

But that grip loosens in shock at the smell of propane lacing the air. The last time he’d smelled it was a few days ago, when-

“ Shit . Kid, we’ve got to move.”

Varian snorts awake, pushing off Eugene. His hairs sticking up on one side, the kid looking bleary.

“Whazzit?” He asks, blinking slowly as Eugene bolts to his feet and starts to gather their supplies. The kid blinks again, a little faster, before his eyes narrow. “Eugene?”

“Propane.” The man replies. He scoops up his sword, Varian’s knife, anything else he can grab. The sheathed knife gets tossed to the kid, who almost fumbles. When Varian looks back, it’s with concern.

“Propane?” He asks, “Who would have propane all the way out here?”

“I have an idea.” Eugene grunts. “Last time we saw your old friend Andrew, I could smell it.”

The kid goes pale, staggering to his feet. “Andrew had me make a hot air balloon.” Varian mutters, his hands coming up to grab at his hair. “I never finished it, but if they found the blueprints and managed to put it together- Eugene it would run off burning propane.”

“And it’s much better than walking, I will say.”

Speak of the devil.

Varian shuffles back towards Eugene as Andrew steps up from behind a busted car. The man gracefully steps on top of a rusted car frame, looming over them. The moonless backdrop of the sky barely makes him visible, a dark shadow on an inkblot sky. His smile, sharp and cruel, stands out against the black, as do glinting, grey-green eyes.

“Evening, gentlemen,” he says. Andrew settles his weight on the roof of the car, a hip cocked as he looks down on the two of them. One of Varian’s hands flies out to grab at Eugene’s jacket sleeve, just higher than his wrist. Eugene holds his sword at the ready, glaring up at Andrew with something closer to contempt that he had last time.

This isn’t just some asshole anymore- this is the guy who had hurt Varian, ripped the kid away from his family and abused his talents and inventions for personal gain. The one who had looked at the bright kid Eugene had seen in the portrait and only saw profit. So no, oh no , Eugene is not about to let this slide.

This is personal .

“Andrew.” Eugene says. He waves his free arm, the one Varian’s clinging to like a vice, behind him. It’s a simple message, one Varian picks up quickly as he shuffles behind Eugene and out of Andrew’s line of vision. With that squared away, Eugene focuses back on the threat. “Back again, I see. Missed my beautiful face that much?”

“Ah, no.” Andrew says. He doesn’t move off the car roof, but his sword makes a metallic ting every time the tip of it hits the rusted metal. “I’m just here to reclaim some lost property.”

Eugene’s hackles raise higher, as if that were even possible. “The kid’s not going anywhere with you.” He spits. Eugene can nearly taste the venom he injects the words with, but Andrew only laughs in the face of it.

“Right, still playing bodyguard Fitzherbert ?” The Saporian asks, smirking when Eugene tenses. “Oh, yeah, we did a little research. Found out all kinds of fun things about you. Were you ever going to tell the kid about your time with the Baron? Or about your time as the great Flynn Rider ?”

Varian makes a small noise, looking to Eugene like he’s seeing a whole new person. “You worked for the Baron ?” The kid asks, looking nearly shocked. Eugene winces, cursing his spotty past. He flounders, trying to find something to say.

“It was a long time ago- shit kid we don’t have time-“

“Oh, yeah, you definitely don’t have time.” Andrew pipes up. Eugene whips back around just in time to see two more people emerge from either side of the broken car, a large man and a woman with an intricate braid down her back. They wear twin grins, full of smug malice.

“Juniper, Kai,” Andrew’s voice carries on the quiet air. “Grab our lost pet, would you? Fitzherbert and I have some business to attend to.”

For just a second, the world stops. Everything freezes in that perfect, terrible moment- Andrew’s smug grin, the two Saporians on the ground moving towards them. The subtle ache in Eugene’s hand from where Andrew had cut it.

And the feeling of Varian’s presence at his back.

The world kicks back into motion with the sound of small boots turning on the asphalt. Before Eugene can stop him, Varian’s turning and sprinting away, disappearing into the black of night. Eugene panics- a rare thing, but the pulse of fear is familiar enough- and spins, running after the kid.

The bag on his back is heavy, thumping painfully against his spine. Eugene can hear the hurried footsteps of the Saporians, hears Andrew’s mocking voice grow louder as they give chase, and it spurs him faster. It doesn’t take long for him to catch up with Varian. The kid’s fast, but still small enough that he’d be hard pressed to outrun a grown adult.

Eugene snags him by the hood with a hand, quickly dragging him behind a car. Varian shouts in fear at the rough treatment, but once he realizes it’s Eugene the cry cuts off. The kid looks at him like he’s insane, probably questioning why they’re stopping, but Eugene only answers with a finger to his lips, shushing the teenager.

Eugene ducks them against rusted metal as the Saporians sprint past their hiding place. He hears one of them stop- from the lighter footsteps Eugene has to assume it’s either Andrew or the woman, Juniper. He hears the other two catch up, breathing fast.

“Where’d they go?” The large man says. Eugene’s fairly sure he’s named Kai, but it’s not exactly an important detail at the moment. Varian’s posture stiffens next to him, the kid flinching at the sound of their voices.

“Must have gone into the woods.” Andrew spits. “ Shit . We’re too close to Corona. If the kid gets to the city then we can kiss our advantages goodbye.”

Varian shudders, a full body shake that seems to rattle him to the very bone. Eugene reaches out without thinking, gently taking one of Varian’s gloved hands in his own. The kid grabs tightly with shaking fingers, the grip strong enough to cut off circulation. Eugene doesn’t even notice, too caught up in listening to the Saporians moving behind them.

“Keep looking.” Andrew finally spits, “They couldn’t have gone far. Kai, take the woods. Juniper, keep following the road. The kid’s quick but Fitzherbert seemed slower, they’ll have to stop eventually.”

There’s a shuffling of feet. Eugene holds his breath as the Saporians split off. Kai goes lumbering past their hiding place, the two of them well in view. Varian flinches when the man comes close, but Eugene settles him quickly. Kai keeps moving, breaking into a run and not looking back. The kid relaxes once he realizes they haven’t been seen; Eugene can see the hyperventilating chest begin to slowly breath again. Silence slowly takes over, the quiet of the evening dripping in now that the threat was moving on.

“We’re so screwed.” Varian hisses. “If they really did make the balloon, there’s no way we’ll outrun them to Corona- it’s the fastest thing I’ve ever built, and that’s saying something! The only thing that can outrun the balloon would be a horse, and last time I checked we don’t have one of those!”

“We’ll just have to be smart.” Eugene says. He doesn’t even sound confident to himself. “Okay. Yeah. It’s bad odds, but what else can we do?”

“I- I don’t know, I didn’t think they’d catch up with us after the bridge. I thought we’d be safe-“

“I thought so too.” Eugene admits. “But we’ve got to deal with this. You know the area, what’s close to here?”

Varian pales. “I’m not sure,” He says, “Rapunzel and I never strayed too far from the road, we never had a reason to.” His eyes widen. “But I’m pretty sure there’s an old truck stop south from here…”

“Then we go north.” Eugene nods. “They’ll be looking for places we might hole up in, our best bet is to keep moving.”

“But the balloon-”

“We’ll have to risk it. If we stick to the woods, we might luck out.”

Varian looks like he wants to keep arguing, but Eugene nips it in the bud. “We can’t keep sitting here.” He presses. “We’ve wasted enough time as-is.”

The kid takes a breath, finally nodding. “Okay.” He says.

Eugene nods. He pauses and listens to the world around them, finding only the gentle chirps of crickets and the occasional blow of the wind. “Do you have your knife?” He asks, grinning when Varian nods. “Okay, good. If any of them show up, you don’t ask questions, okay? You use it , don’t give them a chance to attack you. If we get separated-”

“Run fast and run far?” Varian’s voice is shaky, but there’s an underlying humour at them being in this scenario again . Eugene grins, nodding.

“Got it in one, goggles. Now let’s go.”

They stand together, move out back onto the street. Eugene goes first, crouching lower to the ground in an attempt to keep covered by the cars. Kai had gone south, towards the supposed house- the building would hopefully be enough of a distraction for them to head north and loop back towards Corona in a day or so, break through their defenses.

“C’mon kid,” He says in a low voice. Varian shuffles along behind him, ready to break into a sprint at any moment. They carefully pick through the cars together, moving forwards. The treeline is close, tantalizingly close; Eugene can basically smell the pine-

A schwing -

An explosion of burning agony in his left calf.

Eugene shouts in pain as he drops to the concrete. His shoulder hits the ground in another burst of fire in his veins, both his hands flying down to his leg in an instinctual urge to grab at whatever had hit him. Varian shouts his name, Eugene can see the kid run forwards and drop to his knees next to his leg. Varian goes pale, covering his mouth with his hands- the kid looks ready to pass out, honestly.

Eugene chances a look down, gritting his teeth at what he sees.

Embedded in the meat of his calf, maybe three inches in, is an arrow. Eugene sucks a breath in through his teeth, biting hard against the pain that pulses in time with his heart. Varian makes a choked, panicked noise, his gloved hands flying back and forth from his own mouth to hovering over the wound.

“Oh, oh shit!” The kid babbles, “Oh shit, okay, don’t touch it- you’re not supposed to touch it, it might be in an artery- oh god if it’s in an artery we’re in so much trouble, oh shit- ”

Eugene grunts. He rolls a little bit, keeping Varian in his sights. Eugene manages to sit up a little, gritting his teeth against the wet burn of pain in his leg. He’s done, he knows it. The decision of what to do next is clear.

“Kid, you’ve gotta move.” Eugene says. Varian stops dead in the middle of a tangent, head snapping to look at the man in shock.

“What?! No!” He exclaims, “No, that’s- what if the Saporians come back? They’ll kill you!”

“ Varian .” Eugene’s tone is tense. “You’ve got to go now- ”

He sees sudden movement behind the kid, a figure dropping to the ground from a nearby sign tower. Varian doesn’t notice, still rambling about no man left behind or some stupid, saccharine bullshit that his family probably taught him. Eugene freezes for just a second, seeing the figure stalk closer and swing their crossbow up onto their shoulder. Varian finally follows Eugene’s gaze, spinning on his knees and gasping in pure, unadulterated fear as Andrew walks forwards with a grin.

“Oof,” the Saporian says, “That looks like it hurts, Fitzherbert. How’re you feeling?”

“Been better.” Eugene grumbles. Varian falls back in an attempt to put distance between himself and Andrew, but the kid eventually hits Eugene’s torso prompting a small oomph from the man. The boy grimaces, looking back to Eugene before turning to look at Andrew with wide eyes. Eugene can’t help but feel like a rat caught in a trap, and from the hitching of Varian’s chest the kid seems to feel the same.

Andrew cocks a hip, stopping about two meters from the pair of them. He swings his crossbow down, casually pulling an arrow from a quiver on his back.

“So, boys.” The Saporian says. “Here’s how it’s going to play out. Fitzherbert, it’s been nice knowing you, but you’re not walking away from this one.”

Eugene can’t see Varian’s face, but he sees the way the kid’s spine tenses.

“And you , Varian. You are in for a world of hurt when we get back. We found the vent you crawled out of you little shit. Clever, I will admit, but not something you’ll get away with twice.”

While Andrew says this, he finishes loading the crossbow before bringing it up to be level with Varian’s face.

“Out of the way.” He threatens.

Eugene manages to sit up at long last, keeping Andrew in his sights. “ Kid, you’ve gotta run .” He whispers. The slight tilt of Varian’s head means he’s heard, good. Eugene slowly moves his hand towards his sword- all it would take is a second of Andrew being distracted. The Saporian’s finger tightens on the trigger of the crossbow, lined up perfectly with Eugene’s face.

“ Varian-” Eugene’s voice is strained. The kid isn’t moving , why isn’t he moving? Eugene’s dead in the water, but in the time it would take Andrew to reload the crossbow, Varian could potentially get enough distance where he’d be able to reach the woods and have half a chance at getting away. Eugene winces as he hears the trigger start to click, waiting for the inevitable pain of the shot-

“Andrew, wait!”

Varian- shit .

“Move, kid.” Andrew’s voice is like ice. Eugene cracks an eye open, gets a look at what’s happened. Varian’s shifted, moving between Eugene and the arrow aimed for his face- what the hell is he doing?!

“No, no, okay listen!” Varian’s still between the two men, using himself to shield Eugene. If he weren’t so close to passing out, he’d stop the kid, reach for him, but at this stage it’s all Eugene can do to stay awake. “ Listen !” Varian shouts with a frantic edge as Andrew aims the crossbow higher.

Andrew pauses, before inclining his head. Varian takes the chance, slowly getting to his feet. Eugene tries to reach for the kid, but his hand ends up falling when he can’t hold it up. His whole body rocks in agony, slumping back down towards the concrete. Varian doesn’t even look back, facing Andrew with a sense of resignation.

“If you kill him, you know I-I’ll just keep trying to break out again.” Varian says. His voice shakes. “You know I can do it, given enough time. And you’ll have to keep forcing me into making your weapons for you.”

Oh, oh shit , Eugene knows where this is going. “Kid stop- ” He gasps with pained breath, barely a whisper.

“But if you leave him alone, I’ll go with you. Willingly.” Bloody hell, Varian - “No more tricks, no more escapes.”

“You’re a little rat.” Andrew laughs. “There’s no way you’re telling the truth.”

“And if I’m not?” Varian’s voice gets stronger as he goes. “Then at least you get me back in that little box without me putting up a fight, right?”

Andrew’s considering it. It’s plain on his face. The crossbow shifts a bit.

Footsteps.

“You found them?” It’s the other two Saporians, brought back by the noise. Eugene takes the distraction to smack Varian’s ankle with a weak hand. The kid startles, looking to Eugene with a frown.

“ Run .” Eugene hisses, looking to where the Saporians are distracted. “Kid, don’t do this, it’s not worth it.”

Varian smiles, something resigned, and crouches next to Eugene. “Sometimes we make sacrifices to see another day.” He says, voice shaking.

Eugene’s heart sinks when the kid repeats his words back to him. He feels the cold weight of a golden boon being shoved into his hands. Varian suddenly looks older, almost adult, as he stands up and looks down at Eugene.

“So do that. Keep yourself alive.”

Varian shakes himself free from Eugene’s lax grip and walks towards the Saporians. “Do we have a deal?” The kid asks. His voice is steady, even as his hands shake. Juniper and Kai look to their leader with questions in their eyes, but Andrew only smiles.

“Sure, buddy,” the man says. Eugene feels bile rise up in his throat. “We have a deal.”

He steps forwards, turning to his companions and throwing a casual arm over Varian’s shoulders. “Good news!” He chirps, “Varian’s decided to come home quietly, isn’t that wonderful?”

Varian flinches at the contact. Eugene grits his teeth the sight; it’s infuriating how useless he feels, how Varian taking the fall feels like pulling teeth. The stinging prick of failure deep in his heart that makes his whole chest ache .

But Andrew, it seems, isn’t done.

Using the grip on the kid, Andrew roughly shoves Varian forwards. The kid stumbles, nearly tripping over his own feet as he falls into Kai. The large man uses the second to grab the kid by the arms and spin him, keeping him pinned.

“What- what are you doing ?!” Varian’s voice goes shrill as Andrew adjusts his grip on his crossbow, making sure the arrow’s still loaded.

“C’mon buddy.” Andrew grins, “You don’t think I’m that stupid, do you? Leaving behind a loose end isn’t going to end well for me, you know that.”

Varian goes pale. Those blue eyes widen in horror as the implications settle in. “No!” He screams, “No, no , Andrew you said-”

“Yeah. I know what I said.” The Saporian takes aim at Eugene again. “And you know as well as I do that I was lying. Really now, Varian, you’re supposed to be smart!”

The kid fights, a swing of flailing arms and legs mixed in with screams of Andrew’s name, demands to be let go, a frantic swell of panicked tears-

But Eugene only stares as Andrew brings the crossbow up, focusing on his target with a grin. A sudden feeling of helplessness takes over- he can’t run, can’t hide, can’t escape.

Can’t protect the kid .

“Sorry Fitzherbert.” Andrew says with a smug tone. “It’s nothing personal. Just business.”

Eugene’s eyes flick to Varian’s. The kid looks terrified, tears streaming down those freckled, baby cheeks. Eugene shoots him a wry smile, shrugging, before turning to face his death.

“Get fucked.” He says calmly, looking Andrew dead in the eye.

The Saporian frowns. His finger tenses. Eugene’s eyes slip closed, waiting. He lets his mind drift, content to ignore the panicked shouting and let himself remember better things. By the time Andrew takes the shot, the only image in Eugene’s mind is Varian’s smiling face the day they’d sparred. He can’t quite tune out the twang of a crossbow shot, but when the pain hits, he’s almost at peace. His world narrows to the agony of impact, to the feeling of his back hitting concrete, the sound of Varian sobbing-

And Eugene, unable to go on any longer, lets the darkness swallow him whole.

Chapter Text

Eugene hadn’t expected to wake up again.

The first thing he notices is that his mouth tastes terrible. It’s a strange thing to notice first, but really, who can blame him? There’s no real noise, but he can hear something muffled; everything sounds like it’s through a filter, or underwater. Eugene’s thoughts swim through his head, impossible to catch, it’s like trying to grab a fish with his bare hands. Infuriating.

Whatever he’s lying on is soft, warm. A bed for sure. It’s a far cry from the rough concrete he’d been splattered on before. Eugene groans, shifting and reveling in the comfort for a second, allowing himself to nearly drift off again. God, he’s tired, he could sleep for a thousand years if the pain in his left shoulder would just knock it off for a bit-

Wait.

Pain. Getting shot. Andrew.

Varian.

Brown eyes snap open as Eugene feels a sudden pulse of panic. The man shoots up into a sitting position, ignoring the twinge in his shoulder. The kid, oh shit, where’s the kid, his mind screams at him on repeat, a cacophony of thoughts piling on top of each other in a way that keeps any of them from fully making sense.

Eugene flails on the bed, his legs quickly tangling in the sheets and sending him toppling to the hardwood floor with a harsh thump. It’s agony, a fiery pain that laces from his upper shoulder and into his chest properly, but Eugene doesn’t stop to contemplate it. He’s in unknown territory, with unknown people. He’s only in his undershirt and pants- boots, gone, jacket, gone, backpack, gone.

Kid, long gone.

Shit.

Eugene’s mind brings up the image of Varian’s face, streaked with tears and blue eyes blown wide in terror, and feels himself steel. The kid needs him. Andrew’s sure to be pissed, and something tells Eugene the Saporian isn’t going to be kind about that fact. The man can’t help the feeling of anger at the brief memory of how roughly Andrew had treated Varian when he’d seen them in the same space.

Case and point, he has to get going after them, and fast.

…As soon as he figures out where the hell he is.

It’s probably not with the Saporians, Eugene can’t see them healing him after attempting to murder him. Bandits, maybe? Sometimes they liked to grab people from the wastes once they were too weak to take care of themselves, and then coerce them into repaying the kindness of saving their ass. Seems the most likely, for sure.

Eugene grumbles as he pushes himself up off the floor. He stands on shaky legs, nearly falling over from fatigue and only staying upright by clumsily grabbing at the headboard of the bed he’d been laying on. His bare feet slap against the wooden floor, making a series of loud thumps. He groans, whoever had grabbed him probably knows he’s awake now.

Eugene rolls his shoulders, wincing at the stiffness. He sends a questing hand towards the wound in shoulder, assessing. Thick, well wrapped bandages cover the wound, which stings as he touches it. It was definitely a shot at his heart, but it had hit too high. Right in the fleshy part of his shoulder sits five new stitches, expertly done from the feeling of them. He doesn’t trust it, to be honest.

A good look around the room doesn’t yield much in the way of information. He’s in a smaller room, a bedroom to be sure. It’s barren, save for the bed, a nightstand with a pitcher on it, and a table pushed against the opposite wall. There’s large windows to his left, a door to his right. Bright sunlight flows in from the window.  It’s a homey enough space, warm and clean, but Eugene knows better than to trust it. A closer look at the table brings good news. Eugene grins when he catches sight of his stuff, jacket folded primly and backpack seemingly untouched from how full it still looks.

That’s… suspicious.

But not what he needs to focus on right now.

The wooden floors creak slightly as he heads towards his stuff. Eugene’s mind whirls with a million plans. First, he has to get out of the house. Second, he has to figure out where the hell he even is. Third, and the most important: he needs to find the fastest route back to Saporian territory. Andrew thinks Eugene is dead, thinks it’s safe to take Varian back to their home base, and that is an incredible advantage. Eugene knows where they’re going, knows where Varian is going to be, which makes getting the kid back leagues easier than if the Saporians had split to somewhere new out of fear of being caught.

Eugene quickly slips his boots and jacket on, ignoring the burning fire in his shoulder at the motion. Damn he’d gotten lucky, even if it meant living with an injury this bad for at least a month. The backpack follows soon enough, something of a grounding weight. Varian’s boon, he notes, is missing.

Teeth grit, Eugene turns towards the window.

If he’s a prisoner, there’s no way the door isn’t rigged. If it’s not locked, it’s a trap. Eugene cracks his knuckles, quietly moving towards the window with practiced grace. It seems whoever had bandaged him up had yet to figure out he’s still awake, another stroke of luck.

He reaches the window, a medium sized opening that’s just as well maintained as the rest of the room, and slips his hands under the wooden sill. It opens soundlessly, allowing a fresh breeze to flow through. Eugene allows himself the quick moment to let himself enjoy it, as well as the feeling of the sun on his face. It’s a warm day, probably about mid-afternoon if he’s to guess, the air crisp with the smell of apples, of all things.

It’s during this moment of reprieve, that Eugene hears growling.

A blur of grey fur comes bolting through the window and into the room, startling the man into falling backwards with a very manly shriek, thank you. His ass hits the floor with a loud thump, muffled by the sound of high-pitched snarls coming from-

“A raccoon?!” Eugene snaps, shoving the furry creature away from his face. It lands on the bed with a yowl, its beady black eyes narrowed in a glare. “What the hell-?“

The rodent snarls again, spitting and pacing on the bed. It’s weird looking, for a wild animal, its coat shiny and fluffy. It looks like it’s had baths, like it’s a pet-

Eugene’s mind suddenly makes the connection, and he throws out his hands.

“Uh, shit,” he mumbles, “What did the kid call you? R-Reggie? No, that’s stupid. Remington?”

The raccoon stops the feral act, his little head cocking as Eugene stumbles over a few more R names.

“Ruddiger!” Eugene finally shouts, snapping his fingers. At the sound of the name, the raccoon perks right up, chittering something that almost sounds like a question. Eugene sees the spark of recognition in those beady eyes though, and things quickly start to fall into place.

“You’re Ruddiger, right?” he asks, grinning when the raccoon blinks. “And you belong to Varian?”

At the kid’s name the raccoon makes an excited noise. Eugene holds out a hand, smiling when the critter pushes into his palm with a purr. The raccoon, Ruddiger, is surprisingly soft. His little eyes shut as he shoves his face into Eugene’s hand. It’s ridiculously cute. Eugene feels a small smile cross his face, scratching the animal behind his ears.

“Alright, you weird cat.” He says, “Want to tell me where the door is? I know where your human’s at.”

Ruddiger squeaks at that, eyes wide at the mention of the kid. His ringed tail perks up, swishing from side to side. Eugene also notices that one of his ears, the one towards the door perks. The raccoon looks past the man and towards the exit; Eugene only has a split second to spin around before the door to the bedroom flings open.

With a startled yell Eugene bolts backwards, putting the corner of the bed between himself and the two people who come running at him through the door. They’re two women, one holding a sword and the other swinging a frying pan like it’s a bat. All three of them scream, the women in rage and Eugene in fear.

The one with the sword gets to Eugene first, swiping at him with a fierce cry. Her dark hair swings with the motion, nearly distracting as Eugene’s forced to duck to avoid her blade. He’s made a mistake, but he only realizes that when, with a perfectly executed switch, the women reverse positions and the blond one swings her frying pan up in a wide arc. Eugene can’t avoid it, taking the hit in the chin and toppling to the floor with a grunt.

He lands hard, blood filling his mouth from a bit tongue. Before he can even move the black-haired woman has him pinned, kneeling by his head with her hands keeping him on the floor while the blond one looms over him. Eugene’s head spins, his mouth filling with the taste of copper.

Eventually his vision focuses again, snapping onto a pair of stunning green eyes. The blond woman leans over him, holding something in her hand. He blinks at it for a second, confused and probably concussed, if he’s honest, until his head finally clears.

“Where did you get this?” Blondie demands. Varian’s boon sparkles in the sunlight. When Eugene tries to get his tongue to work, she shakes it in his face and leans forward.

“I said.” Her face darkens. “Where. Did you. Get this?”

“A friend!” Eugene finally snaps, struggling against black-hair’s grip. “A friend gave it to me, okay? And he’s in trouble, so I’d really appreciate you letting me go-“

“Who.” It’s less a question and more a demand. The woman’s green eyes are stony, there’s a rage there that Eugene can’t help but fear a bit.

“A kid.” He finally relents. The blond woman is familiar, and Eugene thinks he knows where from, though he’s not stupid enough to drop Varian’s name on assumptions. “I was helping him get home, we got separated. I got shot, and the people who did it took him.”

“Was his name-” Blondie starts, but black-hair cuts her off with a hiss.

“Raps, we don’t know this guy.” She says, “He might be lying.”

That cinches it.

“It’s from Varian.” Eugene says. The two women’s heads look down at him, blondie’s- Rapunzel’s- eyes going wider than dinner plates.

“You were with Varian?!” She gasps. Before Eugene can register what’s happening, she grabs him by the shoulders and forces him to sit up, her face getting concerningly close. “Was he okay?! Where is he now?” She shakes him once; Eugene swears he can feel his brain rattle in his skull.

“I- yeah, yeah, I was with the kid!” Eugene snaps, lightly slapping at her hands. She lets go with a sheepish expression, but Eugene continues on without prompting. “He’d been running from the Saporian gang, said they’d taken him from Corona.”

“They did.” Black-hair grunts. “Right under our noses, those bastards-”

“Cass.” Rapunzel chides quietly. “Please. Let him finish.”

Eugene feels oddly self conscious under her stare, trying hard not to look into her desperate eyes. It seems that now that he’s started talking, he can’t make himself stop. The words spill out, fast and rough- though that could be the blood loss talking.

“I found Varian out in the wastes,” He says. “He’d gotten away from the Saporians, asked me to help him find his way back… well back here, I’d assume. We were close, but Andrew found us.”

“Shit.” Black-hair, Cass, hisses. “If we’d known you were coming, we could have sent help. You were only a few clicks from here.”

Eugene grunts, testing his shoulder. “They took him again,” he says. The women’s faces fall. “But I know where they’re going.”

Rapunzel perks up at that, considering. “You’d help us go get him?” She asks, and her face breaks into a smile when Eugene nods.

“I promised to get him home,” he says. “And I’m not done until I’ve kept that promise.”

Rapunzel pauses, looks Eugene over with a calculating face. “And what’s in it for you?” She asks, and he freezes. It’s like a deer trapped in headlights, Eugene being faced with the horrific reality that he might actually care. A large part of him wants to deny it, to claim profit, but… well it just wouldn’t be truthful. He thinks of the kid, of how far lying got them at the start.  

“Originally it was supplies,” he finally admits. “But… I dunno, the kid’s endearing, I guess. He grew on me like a mold.”

Cass snorts, standing from the floor. “That’s our Varian.”

Rapunzel smiles, something almost sad. Her eyes focus back on Eugene, before she keeps grilling him.

“Was he okay? Did they hurt him?”

Eugene bites at his lip, not sure if the truth would help at this point, but at those pleading, green eyes, he breaks.

“He was mostly fine,” he admits. “Lot of bruises. Pale, thin. They definitely weren’t feeding him enough. I don’t know what he was like, uh, before, but the kid’s skittish. Flinches a lot, scares easily.”

Rapunzel’s face falls with every word, but Eugene can see the rage building. “They hurt him,” she hisses. Eugene nods.

“Most likely.”

He sees her jaw clench.

“They’re dead.” Cass says, placating her friend. “We find them, they’re dead. With, uh-“

“Eugene.”

“-Eugene’s help, we’ll find him. We’ll bring him home, Raps. We just have to go and get him.”

Rapunzel nods at that, looks down to Eugene again. She stands, breathing deeply, once through her nose.

“Okay.” She says, and it’s more of a war cry than Eugene’s ever heard.

She extends a hand down to him. He takes it. “They think I’m dead.” Eugene says as she pulls him to his feet. “They don’t know that I know where their base is. Or at least, close to where their base is.”

“It’s more than we had to work with before.” Cass nods. Eugene can see the way she thinks, face flipping though multiple emotions. The hand holding her sword twitches. Eugene shifts his weight on his feet looking between them.

“It’s a fair way,” He admits.

“How far?” Cass’s face is grim.

“About a week. Me and the kid have been walking at least that long, maybe a little shorter.”

Rapunzel’s face falls again, before she looks to the two of them with a fire in her eye. It’s… well it’s attractive, Eugene will admit. She’s got spunk, especially when she twirls her frying pan with a showy sense of flair and focuses on the two other people in the room.

“Well,” she says, “I guess we’d better get going.”

Varian has had… better nights.

He shudders against the cold wind of evening, back pressed firmly against a tree. It’s freezing out tonight, the last of summer’s heat slowly giving way to fall. He knows his face is set firmly into a scowl, a bitter, angry expression. Good. Varian shifts his weight a little, wincing when the thick handcuff wrapped around one of his wrists digs into his skin when the movement tugs on the thick tree root Andrew had tied him to. Varian hates that’s he’s used to it, to the feeling of iron keeping him in place like a good little pet. Varian can feel as his anger festers, sinking deeper into him.

This marks the second night since Andrew had found him, since Varian had been dragged, kicking and screaming, onto the hot air balloon he’d designed and forced to watch as the highway had disappeared over the horizon. He’d been so close to home, barely a few hours more before they would have hit Corona. If they hadn’t stopped for the night, they would have made it, and Eugene…

Varian sniffles, rubbing his sore eyes with a bare wrist. They’d taken his hoodie long ago, leaving him in nothing but a thin T-shirt. He’d thought he’d cried himself out earlier, but the thought of the man always seemed to drag more tears from him. Varian couldn’t help but feel guilty, a festering, angry thing. Eugene had helped him, had ignored what his instincts had told him in order to help Varian to get home. He’d been kind, and it killed him.

Varian feels tears drip down his cheeks. The boy blinks quickly, scrubbing at his face. He casts a worried expression towards the center of the clearing the Saporians had landed them in, where a dull fire crackles. Andrew and his cronies sit around it, unaware of their being watched. It’s late in the night, a few of them have long since gone to sleep, but Andrew and a few others stay awake to keep watch.

Varian tugs idly on the cuff, yanking it against the thick root. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t budge, the root embedded deep into the earth. He sighs, curling up under the meager safety of the tree and wiping at his red rimmed eyes. The sky above is dark, thick with clouds that hide the moon’s glow. Shadows reach towards them all with creeping fingers, choking out any light left.

Varian chances another look to the Saporians. They’re all chatting, clearly not focused on him in the slightest. They’re relaxed, easily confident that they’re safe for the evening.

Varian scowls, knowing they’re probably right.

He doesn’t have anything on him that he can use, Andrew had made sure of that, but he still had a trick or two under his belt. He manages to find a larger stick, long since split in half by the passage of time, along with a thinner twig. They’re bone dry, the summer heat sapping the moisture from the wood, so it’s in rapid succession that Varian’s able to pin the larger stick under his knee and swipe the smaller back and forth rapidly across a groove in the center. He repeats the motion as fast as he can, scraping the wood together until he can see smoke. Varian huffs out a small hah as he scoops up a few dry leaves, tipping the charred, smoking bits onto the tinder and gently blowing on it.

“C’mon,” he murmurs to himself, “C’mon.”

A small flame sparks to life. Varian nearly chokes on his gasp of excitement, dropping it to the forest floor and blowing on it again. The little fire splutters to life, catching on the dry tinder. Varian breathes a sigh of relief as it begins to grow, a tiny, flickering thing that finally offers a little heat, a little warmth. He slowly brings his hands away, intent on grabbing more fuel for the fire, when something else enters his view.

A boot comes slamming down, snuffing the fire out with a firm stomp. Varian cringes, looking up and seeing Andrew glaring down at him. The boy shrinks into himself, curling back as Andrew’s face darkens.

“Whatcha up to, buddy?” The man asks, twisting his foot firmly into the dirt. Varian feels a pulse of fear as Andrew looms over him, his back pressing against the bark of the tree. For a brief second, he finds himself longing for Eugene. He has to choke down the wave of sorrow the feeling brings right after.

“It’s cold.” Varian mumbles, refusing look up from the boot to meet Andrew’s glare. “I was-”

“Trying to escape?” Andrew asks, his face pulling down into a frown.

Varian’s breath hitches. “No!” He stutters, hands pulling up close to his chest. “No, no, I promise, I wasn’t trying to get away-”

“That’s good.” Andrew cuts him off again. Varian’s protest putters out, the boy going quiet. He tries to hide it, but his hands shake. Andrew notices, and his face splits into a smile. “You remember what happened last time you ran, don’t you? It was only a few days ago, after all.”

Varian’s breath hitches, the boy’s eyes going wide. “I…” He trails off, looking down to the earth.

Andrew’s weight shifts, the man crouching down into a squat. “Didn’t you learn anything? Fitzherbert died, because of you.” He says, and his face pulls into an exaggerated frown. “It was all your fault, Varian. Because you ran away, like a selfish little prick, a man died. Remember?”

The boy’s breath hitches, eyes going wide. “No, it’s- you’re the one who killed him!” His voice cracks, Varian’s face crumbling.

“And if you had just stayed put, I wouldn’t have done it.” Andrew shrugs like it’s an easy thing. “You dragged Fitzherbert into it, you made that choice to involve him. So yeah, bud, it’s on you.”

Varian’s face goes pale, the kid refusing to look up. Andrew reaches out, ignoring when the boy flinches away. He grabs Varian’s chin, forcing the boy to meet his eye. “I guess this was just what it took for you to learn your place,” he says, grinning when Varian’s shoulders hitch in a silent sob. “But it is what it is. So long as you do as you’re told, no one else needs to die.”

Tears run down freckled cheeks. Andrew lets go of Varian’s chin with a sigh, standing. “You’ll learn, one day. And when you do, we’re going to do great things together.”

With that, he turns and goes back to his fire. Varian covers his mouth with his hands, trying to muffle the fresh round of tears. His eyes burn from the salt, the boy blinking as his vision swims. His eyes slam shut as he lets himself be taken by another wave of despair, his whole body shaking with the force of the sorrow, the devastation.

The guilt.

In front of him, the small patch of soot quickly grows cold.

Eugene’s shoulder kills, but he refuses to let it stop him. The jostling of the horse underneath him does nothing to help, but he grits his teeth and bears it. They’d been riding for two days, hustling along the highway that Eugene had been found on, the same highway Andrew had attacked them. The horses are leagues faster than walking had been, and even Eugene knows that a hot air balloon is slow as all hell. At the rate they’re going, they’ll catch up with the Saporians sooner rather than later.

They only break for about eight hours, taking the risk of having no lookout to spend the minimum amount of time stopped before they’re off again. It’s a brutal pace, on rider and horse both, but Cassandra had made the good point that if Andrew and his crew could get the kid back to their base, rescuing Varian would be considerably more difficult. If they could catch the gang out in the wastes, it would simply be a matter of grabbing the kid and running like hell was on their heels.

Sure. Simple.

It’s been two days of riding. They’ve got to be close; they’ve already reached close to the gorge where he and Varian had almost died. They’d even stayed a night in the same farmhouse, its once cheery interior all the colder without the kid there. It’s early in the night, the sky dark and cloudy. They’d pulled off to the side of the highway to stop for the night, but Cassandra had stopped them before they could start to unpack a camp.

“Wait.” She whispers, quietly gesturing towards the forest. Eugene follows her motion, catching sight of dull light in the distance. A campfire. His eyebrow raises, a weathered hand settleing on the hilt of his sword.

“Could it be...?” Rapunzel trails off, hopeful. Cassandra shrugs, but catches Eugene’s eye. The man nods, already knowing what she’s implying.

“We should check it out,” he says. “The balloon barely caught up to us at a walking pace. I wouldn’t be surprised if we managed to overtake them on the horses.”

One of the animals, named Maximus as Eugene had learned, looks nearly smug as Eugene speaks. The man rolls his eyes, but still turns to where the fire burns in the distance.

“If there’s a chance it’s them, we have to check,” he says. Rapunzel nods, frying pan already in hand.

They creep forwards together, drawing close to the fire on quiet feet. The forest around them is alight with life, bugs and birds and small animals moving around and hiding their approach. Eugene is easily the quietest of them all, though Cassandra gets to the edge of the clearing first. She ducks into a thick bush, waving the others forwards once she confirms it’s a good spot. Eugene and Rapunzel dip in behind her, moving to either side. The thick brush is hard to see through, but it’s hidden, and for now that’s what’s important. The dirt under his knees is cold; Eugene shivers in the colder evening temperatures. From their place, kneeling in the dirt, Eugene can see the whole camp.

The first person he notices is Andrew.

“Oh, shit,” he whispers. “It’s them.”

The Saporians have a nice little camp going, to be fair. A large fire in the center of a clearing, the five of them scattered about. Three of them are asleep, the only ones awake are Andrew and the younger woman, Juniper. They relax next to the fire, relaxed and content with their places. A deflated hot air balloon sits nearby, small and chock full of odd little gadgets that must be Varian’s modifications.

Speaking of.

“Where’s Varian?” Rapunzel asks, her voice strained. “I don’t see him.”

“Me neither,” Cassandra hisses back.  

Eugene scans the area near the fire. “He’s got to be around somewhere,” he mutters. “Andrew wouldn’t let the kid out of his sight, not after Varian gave him the slip once.”

“Wait- there!” Rapunzel nearly moves forwards, lurching towards the clearing. Cassandra snaps out a hand to stop her, grabbing the blonde by her arm and pulling her back down. Rapunzel struggles for a second more, but stops when Cass shakes her head. Instead the blonde points to the edge of the glen, where a large tree sits. There, handcuffed to the base of the tree…

“Varian.” Eugene whispers. Something in his chest, a knot that had been twisting in his gut for days, finally begins to unwind at the sight of Varian, though any sense of relief is cut short by the state of him. The kid looks like shit, even worse than the last time Eugene had seen him. The kid looks beat to hell; a fresh, purple bruise splays across Varian’s face, his wrist bleeds from where he’s been chained to the tree. Worst of all, however, is the obvious signs of the distress the kid’s in. Baby blue eyes are red rimmed and bloodshot. The kid’s crying, wiping at his face in a futile attempt to keep himself composed, but there’s no hiding the flush of his cheeks and the shaking of his lip.

Rapunzel makes a noise that’s close to a growl. Eugene can see the way her hand tightens around her frying pan. The sight of Varian’s distress obviously effects all three of them- Cassandra looks ready for murder, and Eugene’s sure his own expression can’t be much better. Even at the relief of seeing the kid alive, the sight of Varian in so much pain without anyone even trying to comfort him stirs a rage that Eugene rarely ever feels.

It’s not right- it was never right of course, but these bastards had ripped Varian away from his home, from his family. And now, faced with a crying kid that they had hurt, they couldn’t even be damned to give the kid a sweater or something, since they’d chained him far from the fire. Varian gets cold easily, even Eugene knows that.

The anger is like fire, spreading up from his gut and into his chest, a raging warmth that spurs the grip on his sword and the glare in his eye. It’s not right. He grits his teeth against the gnashing rage, sucking in a breath through his teeth.

“What’s the plan, blondie?” He asks, eyes never looking away from the distant figure of Varian. “Kid’s close to the edge of camp, but I don’t know how long the cuff will take to pick.”

“I can make a distraction.” Cassandra offers. “Go back to the road, make a bunch of noise. Excluding Andrew, they’re not the smartest bunch. Bang two sticks together and they’ll come running.”

Rapunzel pauses, thinking. “There’s five of them,” she says. Her eyebrows furrow together in thought, the woman biting at her lip. “I don’t think splitting up is a good idea.”

Eugene shakes his head. “We can’t take them head on. Even if we can get the kid free, it’s four against five. Varian’s not a fighter, he’s a-”

“A man of science.” Rapunzel finishes the sentence, catching Eugene’s eye. “That’s what he always says.”

Eugene’s mouth shuts with a click of teeth. Rapunzel’s face sinks into a warm smile. She puts a hand on his shoulder, leaning forward as much as she’s able. “You’re close with him?” She asks.

Eugene wants to deny it, wants to still pretend that this is all about some stupid ego-code, or revenge, or just because he wants to… but he’d be lying. He meets Rapunzel’s eye, nods.

“Varian’s… he’s a good kid.” Eugene scratches at the back of his neck. He looks away, refusing to acknowledge the heat in his cheeks. “So sue me if I got attached. He’s like a puppy, you can’t not.”

Rapunzel shakes her head, quietly laughing. “That’s exactly it,” she says. “Thank you, though. For taking care of him, I mean.”

“It was nothing-”

“No it wasn’t.”

No, it wasn’t.

Cassandra makes a small noise. Eugene looks back towards the clearing, glaring when he sees Andrew step away from the group and into the woods.

“Now?” He asks. Rapunzel pauses only for a second, weighing the options.

“Now,” she says. “Try and get Varian’s cuff unlocked without getting caught. If they spot you, Cass and I will step in.”

“Got it.” Eugene says, already moving back into the brush. He swings wide, keeping his distance from the camp as he circles around to where Varian is. His boots barely make a sound in the night, Eugene sneaking as quietly as he can. If he gets caught now, it will only end badly for Varian. They have one shot at this, and Eugene’s going to use it wisely.

He eventually gets close enough to see the kid properly, barely containing himself as the bruises, the blood, gets more pronounced against freckled skin. The kid looks worse up close, and it makes Eugene want to punch something. Specifically Andrew.

But that’s for later.

“Kid.” He hisses, trying to get Varian’s attention. The boy’s half asleep, cried out and obviously exhausted as he huddles against the tree to his back. Varian’s head looks up sharply at the whisper, staring directly at Eugene’s hiding place with wide eyes. The man takes the chance of popping out from between the trees, showing himself for a quick second.

He doesn’t get the reaction he was expecting.

Varian goes as white as a sheet, the blood draining from his face as it drops into a horrified expression. He looks like he’s seen a ghost. To be fair, though, from Varian’s perspective he probably has.

“E-Eugene?” He whispers, looking back and forth from Eugene’s hiding place and the campfire. “You’re alive?”

“Andrew’s a shitty shot,” is all Eugene says. It looks safe enough, so he chances crawling out from the brush and towards the kid. Varian’s face is still pulled in shock, baby blue eyes wide and nearly popping out of his skull. When Eugene gets close, he raises a shaking hand, looking scared to try anything more. The chain keeping him tied to the tree rattles with the movement.

With a small sigh, Eugene leans forwards and gently takes the cuffed hand. His heart aches at the shocked intake of breath the kid makes at the touch. Varian’s shaking, but not from cold.

“I thought you died…” The kid says. Eugene looks at him, sees the tears quickly springing up.

“Nah,” Eugene shrugs, trying to lighten the mood. “I’m like a cockroach. I’d love to see something actually succeed in killing me, I’m basically immortal.”

Varian laughs wetly, wiping at his face to dispel the tears. Eugene feels something in him settle as the kid’s face splits into a small, cautious smile.

“You’ll never guess who picked me up, by the way,” the man continues. Varian perks up, tilting his head. Eugene tilts his head in thought, playing it up to keep the kid laughing. “Some blonde chick and her crazy-ass friend, right. And, get this, they had a raccoon with them.”

The kid’s eyes go wide with surprise, the weak smile splitting into something closer to the wide grin Eugene’s come to know. “Rapunzel?” He asks quietly, like he can’t believe it. “And Cass? And Ruddiger?!”

“What are the odds, huh?” Is all Eugene replies with, trying not to smile as Varian grabs at his wrist.

“Are they here too?” The kid asks, nearly vibrating with excitement. “Did they-”

“Yeah, goggles. They came to help me get you home. Thought I could use the backup, this go around… but first we have to get you loose.”

Eugene looks down to the kid’s hand, more specifically the cuff around Varian’s wrist. It’s old, even in terms of the time after the blackout. The cuffs are rusted, but the metal’s still holding strong after all these years. Eugene is nothing if not resourceful, however, and he’s got just the thing.

“Hm,” he says. “Looks like an old police cuff. Should be easy enough to get you out of there.” Eugene reaches into his boot, drawing out his most valuable possession. The kid makes a confused noise, something small, but welcome.

“A paperclip?” Varian asks. “Are you serious?”

“Hey, don’t knock the paperclip.” Eugene quickly unbends the thing, shaping the little metal stick into a right angle. “This little guy’s gotten me out of more than one situation, thank you very much.”

He slips the impromptu lock pick into the keyhole of the handcuff, starting to shift it around in the mechanism. Varian watches with a keen eye, curious. Eugene catches the look, and begins to quietly explain.

“The lock has two latches on the inside,” he murmurs, barely even paying attention. “So, see, you want to bend the clip at about a ninety-degree angle and then hit both of them at the same time. Just gotta find the right spot-”

Click.

“Et voila!” He grins as the cuff falls open. Varian gawps at his freed wrist, pulling it back towards his chest as Eugene lets go. The man risks a peek over to the Saporians again, seeing Andrew still missing and the others half asleep. Good.

“Alright, kid.” He says, drawing Varian’s stunned attention back. “Let’s say you and I blow this roadshow, huh?”

The kid starts to nod, but pauses, thinking. “They’ll just follow us,” he says. Varian worries at his lip with those buck teeth, thinking hard. “We need to destroy the balloon.”

“Wha- Goggles, no, listen-” God damn it they don’t have time for this. “Your sister brought horses, we can outrun them.”

“And then what?” Varian’s voice nearly cracks. “We just wait for them to show up at Corona? Hide away for the rest of m-our lives? What happens when we can’t keep running?”

Eugene can’t even find anything to say. The protests die on his tongue, especially when Varian’s face hardens.

“If we don’t do something, they’ll keep hurting people.” The kid’s insane- “If I can stop them now, it’s my responsibility to do that.”

“It’s your respons- kid, we’re trying to survive, here!”

“What’s the point of survival without helping other people?” Varian snaps, “Without charity? Without hope?! I’ve seen the world survival brings, and I don’t want a part of it; I want to make things better, even if it’s a risk.”

“There’s no room for thinking like that out here.” Eugene’s protest is weak, and he knows it. “That kind of shit’s going to get you killed. Now, let’s get the hell out of here!” He reaches for Varian’s hand, and only feels a little hurt when the kid pulls back.

“I’m ending this.” Varian says. “For good.”

And like that, the kid’s up like a shot. Eugene makes another grab at him, hissing Varian’s name, but the teenager’s gone too quickly, off and vanishing into the darkness. The man grits his teeth- what the actual hell is the kid thinking- before getting to his feet and following.

The forest is dark all around them, but Eugene catches up with the kid quickly enough. Twigs snap underfoot, a barely-there crack in the silence of the evening. Eugene huffs for breath as he sees Varian skid to a stop in front of him, the kid crouching behind a tree.

The man follows the boy’s eyeline, sees the balloon parked near the trees. Its deflated for the evening, the garish, purple fabric laying flat on the forest floor. A large, almost ship looking platform sits nearby, connected to the balloon with a series of ropes and thick cables. It looks strong, to be honest, much sturdier than the hot air balloons Eugene thinks of from the before. If anything, it’s more of a warship that happens to be floating under balloons, than a hot air balloon in the traditional sense.

And there, bolted above the deck in the center of the ship on a pyramid of thin, metal supports, is a large burner. Or, at least, Eugene thinks that’s what it is. The way Varian stares at the balloon seems to confirm it; the kid’s glaring at it like it’s personally offended him. Eugene sees the same spark in his eye that Varian had the day they met, when the kid had refused to take no for an answer and had pushed until Eugene agreed to get him home. The man sighs, knowing exactly what that look means.

“So that’s it, then?” He asks, sidling up next to the kid and hiding behind the same tree. Varian jumps for a second at the sound of his voice, but the kid finally nods before looking back to the balloon.

“Andrew keeps the plans on the ship.” Varian whispers. “I saw them when… uh, after we were separated. They don’t understand how the ship works, so if things broke, they used the blueprints to figure it out.”

“So let me guess,” Eugene can hear the resignation in his own voice. “You want to get the plans, too.”

“Or just destroy them.”  Jesus, kid, “Either way, if we don’t remove the plans from the equation, they can just build a new ship.”

“Fantastic.”

“Ha. Tell me how you really feel.”

Eugene takes the time to glare down at the little shit. Varian grins brightly back, and honestly, it’s worth the irritation to see the kid smile.

“Okay, goggles,” he says, “This is your song and dance. What’s the plan?”

Varian worries at the bottom of his lip, looking around. “I think I can get close enough without getting spotted,” he whispers, “All I have to do is destabilize the reducer bell, that would make it burn too quickly, causing the fire to be an uncontrolled burn, meaning-”

“To the point kid, please.”

Varian grins, something reveling and almost mean. “Meaning boom,” he says.

Eugene can’t help but laugh, tweaking the kid’s ear. “Boom it is, then,” he grins. “We’ll stick together, better to run in pairs.”

Varian nods. Together they slowly creep out from the woods. Eugene can’t say he’s pleased about being so exposed, but if this is what it takes to get Varian to agree to leaving… well they’d better make it quick. Varian reaches the balloon first, quickly hopping into the wooden portion and out of sight. Eugene follows, pressing his back against the wooden wall. They hold the position for a second longer, waiting, listening. Nothing happens, the Saporians still unaware of their loose prisoner. Together they breathe a sigh of relief, Varian slouching more than Eugene against the panels.

The kid’s gotta be tired, there’s no question of it. Better get this done sooner, rather than later. Thankfully, there’s a series of crates that will keep them mostly hidden, with a few odds and ends stacked on top. It’ll be more than enough to hopefully make this quick.

“Alright,” Eugene murmurs. “Tell me what to do.”

Varian peeks up pausing. “I’ve got it,” he says. “If you do it wrong, we could blow up with it.”

“Ah.”

“Yep.”

Varian flips onto his feet in a squat, quickly reaching into a nearby crate. With a grin he pulls out his hoodie, still stocked from the way that it seems to glow from the chemicals within. The kid slips it on, looking already more like himself. He also pulls out the knife Eugene had given him, still sheathed. The boy waves it with a small flourish, smiling widely at the ridiculous look Eugene shoots him.

“Andrew knows better than to chuck a good knife just because he wants to be petty.” Varian shrugs. The kid moves closer to the burner, tilting it this way and that before pulling the knife from its sheath. He uses the tip to unscrew a panel from the bottom of the machine in a precise, practiced motion. A sense of amusement makes Eugene snicker as the kid sticks his tongue out in concentration, fiddling with the guts of the burner.

“Just a little more,” Varian whispers to Eugene. The man nods, looking around. Something doesn’t feel right, like it’s too easy. It gets his hackles up, the quiet of the evening. In theory it’s good that it’s quiet, but something about it just seems too perfect. Their luck has sucked so far, so something going right sets him right on edge.

Case and point, a sudden shout comes from the other end of the glen not two seconds later.

“Where’s the kid?!”

Andrew.

Varian flinches violently, borderline dropping to the deck of the ship. Eugene follows, settling into a crouch before peeking through the top railing with a cautious eye. He sees Andrew storming into camp from where they’d chained Varian, shaking the empty handcuffs. The fury across his face is evident, a snarling, vicious anger.

Eugene hears Varian suck in a terrified breath next to him.

All the Saporians have turned to look at their leader, shock written across their faces as the man shakes the cuffs roughly.

“I said,” he spits, “Where. The hell. Is the kid?”

“I- we- he can’t have gone far!” Juniper stumbles over her words, fear written plainly across her face. “He’s just a kid, we caught him before, right?”

“We caught that little shit because we shot Fitzherbert, which scared him into listening. You want to volunteer next, Juniper?”

Oh, Andrew’s pissed. Juniper wilts immediately, shrinking down. “We’ll find him,” she says, more a pleading thing than a declaration.

The boy next to Eugene shakes at the mention of the night on the highway, flinching as the man quietly offers his hand in consolation. The kid takes his hand, clinging tightly to the illusion of safety. Varian shudders and shifts, to try and see the camp better.

Knocks into a nearby crate.

The whole thing rattles, sending a glass bottle toppling to the deck below. Eugene throws a hand out, trying to catch it, but he’s just short; his fingers graze the bottle before it passes him by, slamming into the wooden surface of the ship and breaking into a million pieces. The noise it makes rattles in Eugene’s ears, the high-pitched crack of shattered silence.

There’s a pause, Eugene and Varian staring at each other in abject horror before they hear hurried footsteps.

“Whelp,” Eugene says, already standing. “I think it’s time to go, don’t you?”

“Agreed!” Varian shouts, shooting to his feet and starting to bolt. His knife drops to the deck, abandoned in the panic. Eugene vaults over the edge of the ship first, landing in the dirt. He unthinkingly twists, already holding his arms out to catch the kid. Varian lands in his grip with a little oomph, clinging tight as Eugene softens the fall. It’s a quick second of unconscious comfort, feeling Varian safe in his arms, though it doesn’t last long.

Eugene can hear the Saporians shout behind them, angry and loud. He chances a look towards them and see all five charging towards the airship, and towards them. Varian locks up in fear for a second, but a small push from Eugene gets him moving. They run, bolting for the woods, a fierce sprint that Eugene knows he’s going to feel in his knees tomorrow. Varian easily overtakes him- damn the kid’s fast when he wants to be- but skids to a stop at the edge of the forest. Eugene finds himself running past, digging his feet in to stop before he ends up leaving the kid behind. He twists on his heel just in time to see Varian reach into the depths of the hoodie and draw out a bomb, throwing it with a practiced motion.

It explodes into a cloud of fuchsia dust, the gas spreading through the entire clearing. Eugene can hear the Saporians shout in surprise- at least one of them hits something with a loud thump and a curse- but he loses sight of Varian in the process.

“Shit, goggles!?” He shouts, looking frantically around. Eugene stumbles over a rock, unable to see his own hand in front of his face. The sword in his hand is heavy, a comforting thing, but he doesn’t dare to use it. If it’s a friendly face and he swings… it would end badly, to say the least.

“Varian!?” He yells again, hearing chaos in the thick cloud. There’s a sudden clang of metal on what’s probably a skull from the way someone screams; it’s enough to set Eugene’s hair on end as the noise was close-

Another clang, another scream. Eugene whirls around with his sword held high, caution be damned-

Rapunzel.

The blond woman pauses, her frying pan held behind her not unlike how someone would hold a bat, ready to swing. Eugene jerks to a stop, bringing his sword down. Cassandra’s close behind the blonde, her green glare scanning the smoke. Rapunzel does the same, her eyes widening when she doesn’t see the kid at Eugene’s side.

“I thought you had Varian?!” Her voice pitches higher in a way that screams frantic. “Where is he?”

“I lost him!” Eugene snaps, “He threw the bomb and vanished, what do you want from me?!”

He would keep shouting, but a quick motion behind him startles him. Eugene whirls on his heels, bringing his sword up in a block. He feels, more than sees, the impact of another blade connecting with his own, a harsh weight that makes the hole in his shoulder scream. He just catches sight of grey-green eyes before Andrew snarls, pressing hard into the block before backing off. Juniper stands at her side, already moving around like a stalking predator.

He hears Rapunzel shout behind him, the shuffling of footsteps interspaced with the clang of metal on metal. He chances a small look behind him, sees Rapunzel and Cassandra backing away from Kai, the large man towering over them. Juniper starts to move to Eugene’s left, even as Andrew stands in front.

They’re trying to flank him, he realizes with a dawning horror. Distract him long enough for one of them to get an in and cut him down. It’s a dirty ploy, but one that he’s seen done even in the animal kingdom. Unsurprising that the Saporians would use such a tactic.

“Fitzherbert,” Andrew’s voice is cold. “Looks like you’re harder to kill than I thought.”

Eugene shrugs. “You shoot like a bitch,” he says. Andrew scowls, a sour look crossing his face. Eugene can’t help but smirk, shifting his weight to keep both Saporians in his line of sight.

The girls seem pre-occupied with Kai, from the sound of it, so he knows he’s on his own here. He’s never fought Juniper before, but she looks capable, especially in the way she circles him with a quiet precision. For a second there’s an almost peaceful moment between the three of them, a weird sort of stalemate.

That is, until Andrew starts to back away, disappearing into the pink smoke.

“Juniper,” he says. “Be a dear and entertain our guest, would you?”

Eugene catches the glint of her smile. She holds a silver rapier in her hand, her dark skin turning nearly white at the knuckle with how tightly she holds it. His attention flits back to Andrew; the cocky bastard’s fully turned away now, waltzing into the pink cloud without a care.

“Don’t worry, Fitzherbert,” he calls over his shoulder. “I’ll take real good care of the kid, I promise.”

Eugene’s hackles raise at that. He starts to go after Andrew- ready to tear that asshole limb from limb, how dare he threaten the kid again- but Juniper stands in his way. Her sword’s held parallel to the ground, blocking his path. Her face is nearly blank, save for a calculating gleam in her eye.

There’s only a fraction of a second that passes before Juniper lunges forwards, a loud cry leaving her as she swings her sword. Eugene only just deflects it, a pulse of adrenaline guiding his hand as he knocks her sword away and parries with a swipe of his own. She barely gets out of the way, crouching and throwing one of her legs out in a perfect arc aimed directly at Eugene’s knee.

The man manages to hop over it, landing in a solid stance as Juniper switches her weight onto her hands. The woman continues her leg’s arc around in a full circle, swinging back around to connect her foot perfectly on Eugene’s jaw. It’s a good hit, solid. Eugene’s head swirls from the impact, the man bending double as his vision goes cross eyed.

He tastes blood where he’d bitten his cheek.

Juniper somehow ends up back on her feet, directing another kick at Eugene’s undefended side. It topples him, the taste of dirt mixing with the blood. Pain flares up from his shoulder like fire, burning until it’s all he can focus on. He flips onto his back, staring up at the moonless sky as Juniper towers over him.

In the distance, he hears someone scream.

Juniper isn’t much of a talker, it seems. She simply raises her sword high, obviously gearing up for a killing blow. Eugene winces, ready for the hit like all the others before. His eyes slam shut, waiting for the agony-

Only to hear the crack of a frying pan meeting skull.

His eyes fly open as Juniper goes oddly stiff, wobbling for a second before toppling into the dirt. Behind her stands Rapunzel, haloed in the light of the fire. Her pan’s held high as her backlit figure holds itself like a queen.

Beautiful, Eugene can’t help but think.

Time slows, the two of them meeting eyes and staring at the other with a sense of magnetism Eugene can’t place. He feels drawn to her, her fire, her drive, her joy. Something in her calls to him, like a lighthouse on the coast. From the way she stares at him, he thinks she must feel it too.

“Are you okay?” She asks, lowering her pan now that Juniper is well and truly knocked out.

“Fine,” he says. The pink smoke around them is still thick and cloying, nearly impossible to see through. “Fine. Are you and Cass-”

“We’re okay too.” Cassandra. She appears through the smoke, the fuchsia swirling around her like a shawl. “But there’s no sign of the kid.”

“Andrew was going after him,” Eugene gasps out, pushing his aching body off the ground. “We have to get to Varian before he does-”

A sudden explosion of wind bursts from the edge of the haze. Eugene slaps his hands over his ears and slams his eyes shut, crouching down to protect his head as he had learned to do during the chaos after the Blackout. When he opens his eyes again the pink smoke from Varian’s bomb is mostly gone, dispersed by the shockwave. He spins, looking for-

Oh, no.

Andrew stands tall on the airship, the gust being caused by the whirling propellers on the tail end starting up. The man smiles, raising a hand to wave at them as the ship begins to raise into the air on the newly inflated balloon. Andrew’s hand lazily waves, the other holding onto a struggling figure by the wrist.

“Varian!” Eugene hears Rapunzel scream, only just registering what she says past the roaring of adrenaline in his ears. As he blinks away the last of the pink fog that’s exactly who he sees, the teenager shoving at Andrew with his free hand as the airship raises higher into the moonless sky.

“Son of a bitch, you’ve got to be kidding me!” Eugene mutters, already kicking himself into a sprint. He hears the women close behind, Rapunzel shouting insults to Andrew the whole time. The ship’s only a few meters off the ground, but they’ll never make it at their current pace. Eugene’s heart races from the exertion, from the panic, anger, and adrenaline cocktail that comes from seeing Andrew with his nasty mitts on the kid again. The rabbit’s pace of his heartbeat is wild in his ears, drowning everything out as he sprints the twenty-meter distance between them and the airship.

By the time he gets there the ship’s at least five meters off the ground, easily higher than any of them can jump. Eugene only pauses for a moment, staring up at the underbelly of the machine with a sense of dawning horror before Rapunzel sprints past him and snatches a rope that’s dangling off the side of the ship. Cassandra follows without question, grabbing a rope of her own. Seeing their plan is enough to shock Eugene to life again, the man grabbing another line; he can’t help but feel grateful for balloons having to be tied down in order to keep them in place.

Eugene grits his teeth as his feet leave the ground, tugged higher and higher by the raising ship. He doesn’t dare look down as he starts to climb towards the ship, but the way the passing trees start to seem shorter and shorter isn’t a good sign.

Rapunzel and Cassandra climb nearby, the tree of them scaling the ropes towards the main body of the ship. Eugene’s shoulder burns, the exertion of holding his body weight and having to climb causing a strange numbness in that arm. Probably not good, but he’s in it for the long haul that this point. He’ll just have to deal with it later.

Cassandra and Rapunzel are on the two ropes attached to the left side of the ship, Eugene on the right. They all swing like pendulums as they clamber upwards, the wind battering at them. Eugene breathes through his nose, gritting his teeth against the pain in his shoulder as the lower side of the ship draws close, so close-

Cassandra shouts as her rope suddenly gives way, the woman plummeting into the trees below. Eugene sees her manage to grab a hold of a branch a meter down, stopping her fall. Her line falls to the ground, the cut side of it hitting the side of the ship. Cassandra shouts in rage, quickly left behind as they continue to float away.

”Andrew!” Rapunzel barks. No prizes for guessing who’s cutting the lines, then. Eugene behind to push himself harder, climbing faster as the edge of the ship draws close. He hears Rapunzel scream, catches sight of blond hair disappearing into the trees just like Cassandra had. Her cut line swings uselessly in the wind.

“Later, princess!” He hears Andrew cackle, laughing as Rapunzel curses at him from the treeline. Eugene’s only a meter away from the railing, the stress on his shoulder burning.

The ship cracks the treeline at last, bursting from the forest in a sudden boost of speed. Eugene feels the tips of his boots skimming the tops of trees, even as he finally gets a grip on the railing. He hoists himself up with one last pull, forcing his aching arms to bring him up and over the edge.

Eugene’s boots hit the wood, already drawing his sword from the scabbard. It’s easy enough to take stock of the scenario, it’s not like the ship is overly large. The same crates and tools are scattered about the deck, obviously in a state of chaos after the hectic takeoff. The main burner still chugs away in the center, a large plume of flame spluttering from the top and heating the air in the balloon to make it fly. Varian’s knife’s still laying nearby from where the kid dropped it, the light of the burner reflecting off it. The shards from the broken bottle are long gone, scattered to the wind.

And there, on the other side of the deck, stands Andrew and Varian, locked in a scuffle.

The kid’s fighting with everything he’s got, smacking at Andrew despite the sword held in the man’s other hand. The brunet’s got a hand locked around Varian’s wrist, keeping the kid in place even as Varian struggles. Two ropes swing from the railing, obviously Cassandra and Rapunzel’s lines that Andrew had cut.

“Let go!” Varian screams, kicking at Andrew. The man grunts with each hit, though one good kick to the ankle is enough to get him to swing his sword to a stop under Varian’s chin. The kid tenses, eyes darting between the blade and Andrew.

“You,” The man hisses, “Are going to shut. Up. Are we clear?”

“Go to hell!”

“Ha, hell spat me out, try again.”  Andrew shakes the kid once before shoving Varian down to the deck. “Don’t give a reason to chuck you over the edge.” He threatens, smiling as the kid flinches.

The second Varian’s out of Andrew’s grip Eugene charges.

The taller man doesn’t even have time to turn before Eugene’s on him, tackling the man to the deck of the ship. They land with a thump, the contact rough on Eugene’s injuries. His shoulder aches, even as he pins Andrew down with a hand. Something in Eugene screams for blood, for revenge, for justice for what he’s done to Varian, to countless others.

There’s something infinitely satisfying as he draws a fist back and brings it down, cracking his knuckles across Andrew’s smarmy face.

In fact, it feels so good he does it again.

Andrew yowls at each punch. Eugene feels flesh give way under his fist, a burst of crimson red blooming under the bruises he leaves. It’s good, the feeling of this bastard’s pain at Eugene’s hands, the feeling of blood and suffering for once caused to those who choose evil.

But it can’t last.

Andrew manages to get Eugene off him, a rough shove sending him backwards and onto the deck. His back hits wood with a thump. Eugene doesn’t pause to think about the aches, flipping onto his stomach and pushing himself up with a grunt. He hears the whizz of a blade through the air, and only just manages to roll out of the way before Andrew’s sword cleaves his head from his shoulders. He keeps the momentum, rolling clean across the polished wood of the deck.

He comes to a stop by a familiar pair of boots.

“Hey, kid,” he says, quickly standing and putting himself between Varian and Andrew. The boy looks dreadful, gaunt and thin in the harsh light thrown from the burner. “How’s it going?”

“Been better,” Varian responds, an exhausted look fluttering across his face even as he borderline hides behind Eugene.

“Fair enough,” Eugene shrugs. Andrew paces in front of them, spitting blood onto the deck. “Got any bright ideas, goggles?”

“I used my last bomb down there,” Varian admits. Shit.

“Hm. We’ll take care of this the old-fashioned way, then.”

“Can you stall him?” Varian whispers. “I have an idea.”

“No, just stay out of it-”

“Eugene.”

He’s forced to look back. Sees those baby blues focused on him, a fire burning deep within them. There’s a light, a determination, that he hasn’t seen in Varian before.

“Please, trust me.” Varian begs, his eyes wide and pleading.

Before Eugene can reply, Andrew makes himself known again.

“Are we doing this today, Fitzherbert?” He tone is demanding, only punctuated by the slight ting of the tip of his sword hitting the ship’s deck. “Or are we just going to stand here and glare at each other until one of us drops dead?”

Eugene’s sword is a heavy weight in his hand.

“You’d better have a plan, kid.” Eugene mutters.

And then, he strikes.

Andrew’s fast, Eugene will give him that, but it’s also easy enough to keep him distracted and away from the kid. If Varian’s got a plan, Eugene would trust him on it. It’s like pulling teeth, allowing someone else to take the reigns and control the situation while Eugene does nothing but distract and put himself in harm’s way, but…

Well the kid had done more than enough to prove his mettle.

Neither Eugene nor Andrew are in top shape at this point. It’s been a long fight, Andrew’s tired, Eugene’s injured. They’re both about as even as they’ll ever get, even as their swords clash in a shower of sparks. It’s obvious in the way that Andrew sticks to circling that he isn’t strong enough to be as offensive as he usually is, despite the fact that Eugene is just as exhausted as he is.

Doesn’t stop him from trying, though.

There’s a few more parries and dodges. Swipes of blades through the midnight air. A block here, a kick there. A splash of blood on the polished wood of the deck. Eugene catches sight of Varian, out of the way of the fighting, fiddling with the burner again. Ah, so that’s his plan, then.

Andrew makes another swing of his sword, yelling with rage. His face is shiny with sweat and blood, his hair dishevelled and wild in the wind. The Saporian looks near feral, bloodied and animalistic as he sloppily slashes at Eugene. Something in him, Eugene thinks with a pulse of fear, has snapped.

“I’m going to fillet you!” Andrew hollers over the wind, “And when I’m done? I’m gunna take that goddamn kid and I’m going to throw him off the ship!”

There’s a sudden whining noise behind Eugene, high pitched and nearly agonizing to listen to. He whirls around, seeing Varian pull his arms away from the burner with a mean smile, the boy facing the two men. His eyes glint in the light of the fire, as does the knife in his hand.

“Hey, Andrew?” He says, quiet and casual, and almost confident. The Saporian sees the knife, sees the burner. His eyes go wide, something almost like fear sparking. Varian raises the knife high, still looking at his abuser with a sudden sense of power.

“Get fucked,” The kid says.

And he brings the knife down.

From where Eugene’s standing he can’t see what exactly Varian hits, but from the resulting scream the burner makes, it must have been important. The burner immediately lights up in a way that seems uncontrolled, fire bursting from the top in a plume of light and crackling flames. They raise high into the balloon, so hot that Eugene can even feel them from three meters away.

Varian runs, leaving the knife embedded in the burner. The kid sprints for Eugene, grabbing the man’s coat and tugging. The fire puffs even larger, and then-

The fabric of the balloon catches.

Andrew lets out a panicked shout as the balloon holding them up quickly bursts into flames, bright and hungry as the canvas begins to turn to ash. The ship gives a sickening lurch, quickly beginning to lose altitude. It’s too slow to be called a drop, but it’s certainly fast enough that the trees they’d left behind quickly begin to skim the bottom of the ship, and then within the blink of an eye they’re coasting through the treeline instead of above it.

Eugene shouts as the ship gives another lurch. The purple fabric of the balloon’s nearly gone now, pockmarked with steadily growing holes as the fire claws at it. Varian screams as the deck beneath them shudders, the ship bashing into a larger tree trunk with a horrible thunk. The platform begins to spin, thrown off its trajectory by the impact. It’s nauseating, the added rotation as they fall, and before Eugene can think he’s grabbing at Varian and tugging the kid close.

On the other side of the ship, Andrew screams in fear. Eugene just catches sight of him disappearing over the edge of the ship, his section of the railing snapping away under the stress of the hit. Eugene holds Varian close, deliberately shielding the boy from seeing as Andrew plummets to the ground.

He’s not sure if the man would survive.

Part of him really doesn’t care.

They’re only a few meters from the ground at this point. One of he lines holding the ship to the balloon snaps; the whole deck begins to list, held only by one side. Varian screams again, Eugene can feel small fingers clutching tightly in his shirt. Fire crackles louder now, with the majority of the balloon eaten away. As the ground draws closer at an alarming rate, Eugene feels a sense of dawning horror.

They can’t stay on the ship.

“Kid,” he shouts, his voice nearly lost to the raging winds. “We’re gunna have to jump!”

Varian lets go of where he’d been clinging to Eugene like an octopus, staring up at the man with barely concealed fear.

“Are you insane?!” He screams. Eugene flinches at the loud voice next to his ear. He chances a look down, sees the ground only a meter away from the belly of the ship.

“Varian, you gotta trust me, okay?” Eugene’s voice is stern, but more so to stay off the rising panic. “We can’t be on here when it hits, it might explode.”

Varian looks shaken, but Eugene can tell the kid knows he’s right. “I- okay.” Varian stutters, “What are we going to do?”

Eugene doesn’t waste time, scooping Varian up. The kid shouts in protest, though Eugene’s momentarily distracted by the fact that Varian weighs about as much as a handful of grapes. The minute we’re out of here, I’m feeding him, Eugene’s thoughts grumble. With the kid secured, he peeks over the railing at the ground whizzing by. He winces, knowing this isn’t going to be pleasant by any means.

“Alright, hang on,” Eugene mutters. He feels the ship shudder again, feels Varian flinch at the harsh noise of another one of the cables snapping under the stress. He looks down once last time, sees a large set of overgrown bushes at the base of a tree. Varian shakes like a leaf in his arms, clinging tightly. Eugene grits his teeth.

And then, he jumps.

The impact is painful, a series of small aches and pains that Eugene knows he’s going to be feeling for over a week. His shoulder burns, the agony of it hitting hard. Varian shrieks as they fall, only to go frighteningly quiet on impact. The bush breaks their fall, but only just. It’s like landing… well it’s like landing on a pile of sticks and leaves. There’s no two ways about it, it sucks.

Eugene rolls with the inertia. The dirt under him is cold, but soft, so at least there’s that to be thankful for. He finds himself borderline skidding along the ground, popping out the other side of the bush with a shout. He feels his grip in the kid loosen, Varian yelping as he rolls to a stop a little ways behind him. Eugene finds himself flat on his back, staring up at the moonless sky. The stars are out now, he notices; small, twinkling lights scattered across an inky sky.

The ship crashes to the ground nearby, a large boom rattling the teeth in Eugene’s skull. It’s a fair way away, though, far enough to be safe.

Eugene takes a moment to pause, let himself breathe. He forces air into stuttering lungs, watching as the stars swim. Everything hurts, but if a limb is hurting that means it’s still attached, which is good.

There’s a rough cough to his left. Eugene rolls over, sees the kid slowly shift, flat on his back in the dirt. Varian lays closer to what used to be the airship, sprawled on his back after probably getting thrown by the force of the explosion. Eugene feels a spike of panic for a second before the kid sits up, his black hair standing straight up, and his face covered in ash. Eugene slowly forces his aching body the few feet towards the kid, already scanning for injuries.

As he draws close, he hears a small litany of shocked laughter coming from the kid as Varian watches the ship burn. The fire spreads quickly, the balloon already eaten away and the wooden structure quickly following. Plumes of white smoke fly from the burning wreckage, thick and cloying in the moonless sky.

As Eugene draws close, he can hear Varian’s laughter putter out. The boy turns to Eugene, his eyes wide with shock.

“I-I may have miscalculated how big the blast would be,” he chokes out.

Eugene can’t help but snort, flopping down onto the ground next to the kid.

“You think?” He asks. The fire burns in front of them, bright in the evening. It’s… well it’s kind of nice, to be honest. Warm, at least. Eugene throws an arm over the kid’s shoulders, drawing Varian closer. The kid leans into him, hugging tight.

“Hey, goggles.” Eugene whispers. He hugs the kid to him, taking a second to press a small kiss to the crown of Varian’s hair. “You did good up there.”

“You were okay,” Varian mumbles. “Might need some more practice.”

Eugene sighs. “Well, maybe your sister will give me some pointers.” He says, feeling the exhaustion of the day sinking into his bones. Varian pauses, pulling back and looking at Eugene with a tilted head.

“So you’ll stay?” He asks, voice laced with a feeble hope.

“For now.” Eugene shrugs, like it’s a casual thing.

Varian smiles brightly. He leans back into Eugene’s embrace, hugging tight. The man returns it, wrapping the kid up in his arms and rocking them, happy to enjoy the moment. Eugene feels himself finally settle, that tight knot in his chest finally easing knowing the kid’s safe. He lets himself breathe, taking the moment to just be content.

Above them, the moon finally peeks out from behind the clouds.

There’s something to be said about the quiet of the settlements.

Corona is quaint, simple. Calm. Eugene can walk the streets of it without needing to look over his shoulder all the time, which is a new feeling but not one he’s upset about. Corona is… different from other settlements. Be it Rapunzel’s rule keeping the peace, or the people just generally being good, Corona runs like a smoothy oiled machine.

The streets are paved still, well maintained and swept. He wanders past stores and homes with a sense of ease. Eugene’s been in Corona for a few months now, more than long enough to know where he’s going. It’s been a good amount of time, between getting to know everyone, especially Rapunzel, better, and adapting to working with others, but to Eugene it hardly feels like any time at all.

He used to fear living in a settlement. Needing the support of other people, needing to support other people- being left on his own had always been more appealing, but after being exposed to Rapunzel and her group, after helping Varian out… well he can’t say he misses it.

He comes up to a larger building near the center of the town square, probably what used to be a town hall of some kind. It’s a huge structure, plumes of fluffy white smoke splutter from the tallest chimney and into the bright blue sky. It’s a grand building, made of large stones and heavy timbers, huge even in context of before the Blackout. Eugene hops up the stone steps, taking them two at a time, before pushing the large, oak front door open.

The space within is organized chaos, a myriad of machines and chemicals taking up a lot of the open room. Thick stone walls are covered in different colour mixtures, the results of failed experiments from years gone by. Dozens of tables are scattered around the room, all of them just as cluttered as the rest of the laboratory. It’s anarchy, but obviously a laboratory, lit by a series of large windows and candles placed strategically around.

And there, sitting right at one of the tables in the middle of the room, is Varian.

Eugene smiles, waltzing over. “Hey, kid,” he calls. “How goes it?”

Varian perks up, looking up from whatever it is he’s been building. He’s wearing his goggles, giving him a hilariously bug-eyed look. The kid smiles when he sees Eugene, shoving the goggles up onto their usual place on his head. He looks… better. Great, even. The miserable little slip of a boy that Eugene remembers from months ago is gone, replaced by a heathly, perky teenager. It’s a good look on him, to be honest. Rosy cheeks and bright eyes, fluffy hair and tanned skin.

Varian looks like the kid he’s meant to be.

The boy waves Eugene over, scooting his stool over so the man can get a look at what he’s doing. It’s a mess of wires, all hooked up to a small drum and what looks almost like an engine. A small lightbulb, obviously made by Varian himself, sits in the very center, hooked up to it all.

“Hey, Eugene!” Varian grins. “You’re just in time, I’m about to run trial thirty-seven of the flynnolium, to see if it’s a viable energy source.”

Eugene raises a brow, settling onto his own stool next to the kid. “And how’s it going?” He asks, smirking when Varian blushes.

“Uh,” Varian gestures to the nearby wall, where a new, charred hole is still smoking. “It’s questionable, but this time for sure it’s going to work!”

Eugene nods, watching as Varian fiddles with his invention a little more. It’s like night and day, this new Varian and the one he’d met before. Even if he looked the same, the way Varian acts is almost an opposite of how he used to. Once Andrew was out of the picture, once he’d gotten home and cleaned up and back with his family, the kid had shown the excitement he had rarely had on their little walk.

And with the excitement came the talking.

“See, it’s a steam engine!” Varian says, “Using the flynnolium as a fuel to burn, boiling water, making steam.” He gestures to each piece as he talks. Eugene pretends to understand, nodding along. He’s just happy to see the kid excited, to be honest. Varian keeps chattering, gesturing wildly.

“And look, here,” the kid continues, “The steam turns the turbines, right? And that generates electricity.”

“Wait, like before the blackout?” Is he serious?

“Exactly!” Varian’s smile is wide. “In theory, we could get some lights going, maybe even an irrigation system!”

“Kid… That’s amazing!”

Varian blushes, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I still need to test it,” he mumbles, “So no promises yet.”

Eugene still claps him on the shoulder, encouraging him. “Let’s give it a shot, huh?”

Varian’s face lights back up, the kid pulling his goggles back down onto his face. His smile turns nearly manic as he brings a nearby match close, lighting the compound on fire. It’s controlled, a slow burn. Water suspended above quickly begins to boil, causing steam. Just like Varian had said, a little turbine over the water begins to spin.

A tiny motor made from pillaged car parts begins to whine as the turbine spins, turning the interior mechanism. The flynnolium makes a strange pop noise; Varian cringes back, flinching and waiting for another explosion, but the compound settles down slowly. Eugene steadies him on the stool with a hand to his upper back, keeping the kid upright.

Varian spares a second to smile gratefully, before going back to watching the contraption. Eugene snickers at the way he sticks his tongue out, quickly writing in a small notebook. The engine makes another noise, the whining getting a little louder.

Eugene grins, reflecting. The kid in front of him is going to do amazing things, so long as he had the support to do so. Eugene, as much as he would deny it outwardly, can’t wait to watch him succeed, to mould this new world to his whims. He’s going to do amazing things, with that big brain of his, and Eugene can’t wait to see him do it.

It feels like years ago, when he’d found that skinny, scrappy kid stealing for survival in the wasteland. Before he’d known exactly who he’d been dealing with, when they both were lost to the wasteland caused by those who came before them. When Eugene had been resigned to a life of suffering and scavenging.

It feels like a different life. Eugene smiles, a sudden surge of gratefulness for the kid to his left hitting him like a freight train. Gratefulness to Varian, for showing a bitter old asshole how to have a little hope, a little faith in humanity. A little determination to see a better future. It’s something he didn’t know he needed, but now that he has it, Eugene can’t see himself ever giving it up. Not for anything.

The machine before them makes another strange noise, the container holding the burning flynnolium rattling on the table. It looks ready to explode, to be honest, but even as Eugene’s hands tense, the kid seems confident in his invention. Varian bites at his lip, stressed but determined.

“C’mon,” he whispers. “C’mon.”

Eugene’s hand pats at his back, Varian leans into the touch, his eyes begging the machine to work. There’s a tense silence as the engine whines, only broken by the soft bubbling noises of the water.

And then, flickering in the darkness, coming from the bulb.

Light.