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2021-03-03
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Regret, Burning Blue

Summary:

In another world, the members of the Chase all die. In another world, Rufus Wilde ends up in the far past to fix the future.

In another world, he might just atone for his sins.

[Old crosspost from a tumblr post made several years ago.]

Notes:

Crossposted from my old RP blog @clockvvorker. It's long defunct, but I actually really enjoyed this drabble, so I figured I'd post it here so I could more readily find it. I also did nothing to the formatting, save for double spacing everything properly, so it's completely different from my normal prose. Sorry 'bout that.

It's technically part of a larger AU that I never completely fleshed out called "The Regrets We Refuse To Make", but I'm not going to add it to a series unless I have other parts to it, and I'm pretty sure I don't. Maybe I'll return to it someday.

Work Text:

 

 

【 Five years in the blink of an eye.
                 It feels as though yesterday didn’t exist.
                                              But no, that’s tomorrow, isn’t it?
                                                                                Welcome back to the Chase, Wilde. 】

Footsteps crunch on autumn leaves as a lone figure makes his way down the rows of cages in the less populated area of the circus. The attendants who are present pay him no mind; after all, for all they know, he’s here for a job, and nobody doubts a Haros when they’re on a job. However, their assumptions are only half correct; yes, he is on a mission, but it’s not one that requires a detour through a slowly-dying carnie crew.


Rufus Wilde is damn lucky that demons don’t age as quickly as humans, or people would start wondering why he looks as though he’s been through hell in a month. At least, he’s pretty sure he looks the part, since he’s played it well enough. Five years spent with the Grand Chase, hunting a woman who refused to be caught, and now he’s here, back in the past. Back where it all started, before it all started. He stops in front of one particular cage, glancing at the flimsy padlock meant more for display than any form of security before looking the inhabitant of the cage straight in the eye.


「 Hey. 」


The child chained inside doesn’t respond.


Eyes turn upward, watching Rufus carefully, but no longer is the kid scared. No, Rufus is pretty sure that any fear he may have had before was beaten out of him, if not by the ringleader then by the vicious mockeries of demons who paid to throw insults and expletives at him.


Maybe, a handful of years ago, Rufus would have been the same, looking at the half-breed reject and sneering at how weak it was. But now, knowing what it would grow into.....there’s still contempt, but a deep-seated discomfort accompanies it, rolling together to form a combination not unlike pity. No Wilde should ever look like that.
(No brother of his should ever be in that situation.)


「 Gods, you’re helpless. 」


The kid still doesn’t say anything- can he? That’s surely the question. Even if nobody’s taught him to speak, he surely should have picked up at least a few words from the other members of the circus (other, if the kid can even be considered a member himself). Maybe it’s instinct, then, that forces him to remain quiet. That’s just as pitiful as, perhaps moreso than, the physical state he’s currently in. Tattered clothes, grimy face, covered in demonic deformations of a body that doesn’t know whether it wants to be Haros or human.....


Rufus shakes the thoughts out of his head. He doesn’t have time to wallow in what-was, or even what-is. His timeline has played out far too long for that. Instead, he looks around, making sure that none of the staff members are watching him too intently before getting down on one knee and leaning forward to look at the kid more clearly. He’s still not at eye level, but it’s a hell of a lot closer than before. 


「 Do you know who I am? 」


He doesn’t expect a response, so he’s surprised when the kid shakes his head slowly. It looks deliberate, but it’s not from fear; he notices the way the kid’s horns and bumps scrape against the cage wall behind him, and wonders if the kid really thinks bearing the pain is worth the distance from the bars. For most people, it probably is.


「 Course you don’t. It’s fine. You don’t need to right now. 」


Rufus has never talked to a kid like this in his life, especially not this one, and so he finds himself at a loss right as soon as he begins. He knows he can’t be as standoffish as he always is, but to act like a kind stranger, coming to him in his time of need.....that’s just not him, either. So, as most do when they’re unsure of themselves, Rufus speaks.


「 I’m sorry. 」


The words out of his mouth surprise him more than they would anyone else, but he can’t take them back. Is he sorry? Even though he’s still unsure at this point, if he said it, then he must mean it, even if just barely.


「 I should’ve helped you earlier. My enemy’s enemy.....and all that. 」
It’s deeper than that, of course, and maybe the Rufus of this future, the one wit

h a brother who’s still alive and a heart that hasn’t been blackened to ash and back, can find solace in having somebody lean on him, and somebody to lean on. But him.....he’s already too far gone, a man who didn’t realize how deadly misguided hatred could be.


「 Why am I talking to a kid......hell, you don’t even know what I’m saying. But
     you’ll be fine. Trust me. You’ll be.......you’ll be fine. You’re strong. And I..... 」 


He hesitates an indescribably long amount of time - in this moment, several moments, but five years stretched across two universes, an eternity to wait before saying something that needs to be said. He wishes he had said them before, before the world went to shit and he died with far too many regrets and far too few friends, but now is his final chance, and so he puts his pride on the shelf to finally say it.


「 I’ll always be here for you. 」


He’s holding back emotions that he never would have guessed he had in another life, and one hand moves up to the padlock - he could break it with his pinky finger if he really wanted to, he surmises - but it stops. He shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be rescuing somebody out of guilt, not when the timeline needs to be stabilized and he has another, far more important job to do.
No, he shouldn’t be doing this......


He’s more important, though. He always has been.


......not without the proper consequences.


His hand drops, and instead moves to remove one of his guns from its holster. Aiming loosely at the largest tent close to them, he doesn’t even look away from the child as he pulls the trigger.
The gun fires.


A bullet rockets through the sky.


Everything erupts into blue.


Almost immediately, there’s a reaction from the handymen, and he acts quicker than before, pistol-whipping the padlock clean off before pulling the door open and shooting the chains securing the kid in place. The flames, reminiscent of the powers belonging to the bastard he used to call a father, should be enough of a motivator to attract his younger self, and he knows for a fact that the kid is durable enough to survive on his own until the time comes- after all, Lass had done it the first time.


「 You’re free now, kid, just run. Run, and don’t look back. 」


He hears an angry shout come from nearby, and he turns around upon hearing his name. It seems as though he’s been found out- a surprise, but nothing to worry about. He steps away from the cage, glancing at the kid one more time, and tilts his head in a farewell before vanishing into the smoke. As long as the ringmaster knows he’s around, after all, they won’t bother dealing with the kid. He’s a little extra money on the side, and losing him doesn’t compare to losing the entire circus to a loose cannon Haros.


Still, it doesn’t hurt to play it safe, and he watches from the shadows for a few moments before turning tail and leaving the circus altogether. The flames are enough for the job at hand- show the kid the safest way out of the circus, deter anyone else from following either of them, and attract the attention of his younger self. Three birds, one bullet shell.


Without another word, he slips away into the night, letting somebody else clean up the mess that he started, all for the sake of a kid he wasn’t destined to save.



Somewhere else, beyond the black smoke and blue flames, a young child walks. His legs are weak from disuse, but it’s not as though he’s completely helpless, and so he stumbles through the wreckage of the nightmare circus, some of it smoldering and some of it still freshly ablaze. Despite the horrors, though, he doesn’t feel any closer to death than he had in the months prior, and so he pays it no mind as he stumbles along the open path that the man had cut for him before vanishing.


He can’t help but waver as he walks on, in the opposite direction of all those trying to escape the flames. They don’t touch him once, and maybe it’s because of that one word, that one name he had caught and held onto before its owner disappeared. It’s the first word off of his lips in years, and it comes out more as a croak than a whisper, but it still seems to echo despite the chaos around him, and so he says it over and over, burning it into his memory as well as he can. Because he can lose everything- his clothes, his home, his eyes and his ears. He can lose everything else he has ever owned, but he’ll never lose the memory of the only person who’s ever saved him.


「 Rufus. 」