Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Agent 8 was startled out of their thoughts by a weak moan of pain. Snapping their head up, they looked over to one of the nearby buildings. They were on the outskirts of the city now, on their way to the monthly meeting at Cuttlefish Cabin.

"H-help me…" the voice murmured, followed by a quiet sob.

"Where are you? Are you hurt?" 8 called out, only getting a weak sob in response. However, they could now pinpoint which direction it was coming from. They tilted their head to the right, squinting at the buildings. There. An abandoned apartment complex with the front door ajar. It was doomed to be torn down in a few months, and a chain link fence surrounded the property.

With little hesitation, they approached the fence, switching into swim form to hop through it. It was worryingly silent, which only caused 8 to pick up their pace towards the door. Just in case, they pulled out their hero shot, cautiously pushing the door open.

It was dark inside, the only light being that which filtered through the front door. They carefully stepped inside, a deep feeling of wrong seeping into their skin. Something was off, although they didn't quite know what.

The reason suddenly became abundantly clear as a metal bar was swung at their head. They managed to duck out of the way, instinctually spinning around to grab their attacker's arm. Unfortunately, it was dark, causing them to miss as the attacker stepped back. They leveled their heroshot at the figure, before they were hit in the side with a blast of ink. This caused them to stumble, gripping their side as the area burned. It reminded them of the sanitized ink, and they now knew that this was no ordinary squad of punk inklings. No, this was something much worse.

8 managed to regain their bearings after the hit, firing off towards the area the ink came from. They heard the telltale sound of someone splatting as their first attacker came at them again, joined by someone with a splatana. They managed to dodge the first two hits, launching a curling bomb towards the subtle glow of the splatana. As they shifted into swim form, something heavy knocked them out of the air before they hit the ink. This sent them sprawling onto the dirty carpet, head spinning as they shifted back into kid form. They tried to get up, only to be stopped by a boot pinning them to the ground. 8 reached for their heroshot, but it was quickly kicked away. Panicked, they reached for a splat bomb, only for a firm hand to grab their wrist.

The boot was lifted for a second, only to be replaced by a knee pressing them into the ground. Strong hands gripped their wrists, clipping something cold and metal tightly around them. 8 sat there, dazed, as they were roughly shoved to their knees.

"They've been secured, Commander." A gruff voice called out in octarian, which made 8's blood run cold. They didn't know much about octarians, only that they were one and most of them were bad according to Craig.

"Perfect. Move them upstairs, and keep an eye on them. Their friends are sure to show up soon, so stay on your guard." A feminine voice barked.

Someone yanked 8 to their feet, gripping their forearm tightly. They squirmed under the contact, trying to piece together their jumbled thoughts. They obviously needed to get out, but they had no idea who they were dealing with or how many.

The ink covering their side burned, and they winced as they were shoved forwards. Fighting back now would only get them knocked out or worse, so they needed to wait for an opening.

They were led to a set of stairs, with an octoling gripping each arm. There was a window at the top, and 8 caught a glimpse of goggles on their escort's faces. That must be how they're seeing in the dark.

The one holding them stumbled on the last step, cursing in octarian. "There's my opening." 

8 tore their hands out of their captor's grip, immediately springing into action. As soon as they were free, they bolted. Their hearts were beating fast as they ran towards the window, ignoring the yelling behind them. As soon as they made it to the window, they braced themselves, before throwing their entire body weight at the glass. The glass shattered, and they prayed that there was a fire escape of some kind.

Unfortunately, there was not. That didn't stop them, and they prepared to dive into a roll.

Someone abruptly grabbed their collar, trying to yank them back. Instead, 8 used their body weight to throw whoever it was off-balance, before roundhouse kicking them in the face. It worked, and the hand released, causing them to drop. Unfortunately, they were now falling horizontally, which was not ideal for landing. They also realized that they couldn't use their hands to catch themself much too late, and they braced themselves for impact.

8 slammed into the asphalt, wheezing as the air was knocked out of them. Inkling and octoling bodies were surprisingly good at falling and not dying, although that didn't mean it didn't hurt.

Stumbling to their feet, 8 prepared to super jump. However, when they tried to shift into swim form, their wrists lit up in pain. Gasping, they glanced back, noticing that the handcuffs had lit up with a dark magenta light. Ok, so that wasn’t going to work. Unfortunately, their failed plan had cost them too much time. They realized this as something slammed into their back, knocking them back onto the concrete. A knee dug into their back a second later, pressing directly into the scars the sanitized ink had left. The area lit up in pain, and they squirmed, trying to get away from whoever was holding them down. 

Hands wrapped around their throat, squeezing their neck and constricting their airway. They desperately kicked at their attacker, black spots taking over their vision. 

“I can’t die, not here,” they panicked, their kicking becoming weaker and weaker by the second. It was too late. Their vision went black, their body going limp.

Chapter Text

8 woke up with a start.

They jolted upright, or at least tried to. Their head slammed into something hard, causing them to drop back down. Groaning, they heard someone chuckle nearby. They cracked open an eye, expecting to see 4 laughing at them for falling asleep in a weird spot again.

Instead, a set of gray goggles stared back at them. This woke them up, and they immediately entered panic mode. They used to always wake up like this, ready to fight for their life. Over the past few years, they had learned that they weren’t always in danger, and that they could experience that wonderful sleepy morning feel.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” The octoling mocked, and 8 shrunk into themself a little. 

Looking around, they recognized the entrance to the abandoned hotel. They were handcuffed to the ornate banister, their ankles having the same treatment a few feet away. It made for them being in a very awkward position, barely able to sit up. Based on the minimal light filtering through the now broken window, several hours had passed. They noticed a lack of weight on their hip, and looking down, their phone was gone. Predictable, but they couldn’t help but feel distressed. They hoped they could get it back at some point, 3 had given it to them when they got to the surface. Sure, the screen was cracked and Marina had practically begged them to get a new one after the third time it had cut their finger, but they felt a strong connection to it for whatever reason.

8 didn’t know how much time had passed when they heard something going on outside. They tried to twist around, and managed to catch a glimpse of octolings running out the door, weapons in hand. 

Their octoling guard seemed to stand straighter, fidgeting with the blaster in his hands as he glanced between 8 and the door.

8 heard the sounds of ink being fired, which caught their attention. Ok, now they REALLY wish they could see properly. Twisting as much as they could, they caught a glimpse of yellow ink, followed by the sound of specials going off. A lot of specials. The smell of ramen noodles and rotting fish wafted into their nose, and they almost cried out in relief. It was the Captain!

Their moment of relief was interrupted by the sound of someone running up the stairs. Someone big. Looking up, they recognized the commander. Suddenly, their handcuffs were undone, only to them to snap back together once their hands were disconnected from the banister. The commander muttered curses in octarian under their breath as they disconnected 8’s ankles, before yanking them to their feet. 

“Inkling! Surrender or they die!” the commander hollored from the top of the stairs, dragging 8 along with them.

8 stumbled a bit, squinting into the darkness and spotting 3’s tentacles glowing amongst the chaos. When the commander yelled, all the octolings froze. 3, currently using an inkjet, paused and looked up towards the stairs.

Apparently, the commander saw something 8 didn’t, judging by the way they growled under their breath and started rooting around for something on their belt. Still holding 8 with one hand, they did something they definitely didn’t expect. They pulled a knife.

This immediately caused 8 to freeze, staring at the weapon as it was pressed against their throat. Ink weapons and water were one thing, giving you a quick death and allowing you to respawn. However, with something like a knife, it was game over. No respawn, no healing over time. You could only hope that someone knew first aid (which most inklings don’t, 8 had found out).

“I’ll give you 3 seconds, agent,” the commander snarled. “Unless you don’t want to see your friend again.”

This definitely caught 3’s attention, and 8 could swear they could see their eyes narrowing in the darkness. They seemed to consider for a moment, glancing between the door, 8, and the octolings surrounding them. Then, their tentacles stopped glowing, and they dropped to the floor. There was a tense moment, everyone in the room waiting to see what they did next.

3’s shoulders slumped, before they dropped their heroshot and raised their hands into the air. 8’s stomach dropped to their feet.

“Good choice,” The commander commented, before barking out orders in octarian. “Restrain them, now! Do it tightly too, cod knows they're good at getting out of things.”

8 watched helplessly as 3 was shoved to the ground, pinned down as their ink tank was ripped off. Their hands and feet were bound with the same handcuffs as 8, and some device was clipped around their neck. It felt so wrong, seeing someone seemingly unbeatable being taken down so easily. Once they were fully bound and stripped of their items, the knife was finally pulled away from 8’s neck.

They let out a breath they didn’t know they were holding, slumping over in defeat. The commander dropped them to the ground, walking confidently down the stairs. They were shouting something, but 8 was too tired to listen. Someone grabbed their arm and pulled them up, striding down the stairs. They couldn’t exactly walk well, so 8 had no choice but let themself be dragged along. Another octarian soldier joined them at the bottom of the stairs, grabbing their other arm in a bruising grip.

8 saw a glimpse of greenish-yellow to their left, and glanced over to see 3 being dragged along next to them.

In their defeated state, 8 managed to get out one word to them. “Why?”

3 smiled sadly, wiggling their fingers from where they were bound behind their back. Right. Couldn’t sign very well in handcuffs.

8 sighed, holding back tears and looking forward. They had lost, and it had cost 8 everything.

Chapter Text

8 was tired.

They had been walking for days, only stopping occasionally to set up camp and rest. Their legs had been unchained so they could actually walk, but only after threatening to kill 3 if they tried anything.

The landscape had changed from concrete tunnels to caves and then to the semi-familiar landscape of octo valley. They finally stopped at… what was it called? 8 was sure they had seen this area before, but couldn't quite remember what it was named.

8 was led over to some broken down machinery, alongside the Captain. They were handcuffed to a pole sticking out of the ground, 3 getting the same treatment a few feet away.

Speaking of the Captain, they were definitely worse for wear. Unlike 8, they had to keep the ankle cuffs on, which has led to them stumbling and falling over a lot. They were also less energetic than usual, and had passed out several times during the trip. The collar around their neck seemed to be some kind of limiter, and a very powerful one. That explains why they were so tired.

3 seemed to notice them staring, turning their head to meet 8's gaze. 8 looked away, guilt enveloping them. The two of them were only in this situation because 8 was being stupid. If they had ignored the sound, or went and got backup, none of this would have happened.

Their thoughts were interrupted by someone speaking nearby. "Commander, the drone didn't make it. The footage shows agent 2 shooting it down and ignoring it," a skinny octoling with a strange accent informed the commander.

"Well, try again," the commander growled. "If we want this to work, we need to get some sort of message to them."

The octarion nodded, before hurrying off towards one of the tents being set up.

8 jumped when they felt something nudge their foot, looking over to see that it was just 3. They nodded towards the commander, looking at 8 expectantly. Oh. They wanted a translation.

"They can not get a drone to the base. They mentioned Marie smashing it and leaving. The leader person told them to send more. I think they are trying to send a message?" 8 relayed to the captain, who nodded in response. 

A devious smirk crossed their face, and they started kicking dust up from the ground. This caught the commander's attention, who looked back at them, irritated.

"What do you want, inkling?" The commander snarled, and 3 simply continued to smirk, wiggling their hands behind their back. "If you want to say something, say it."

After a few seconds of tense silence, 8 spoke up. " Um, they can't speak with their mouth, they talk with their hands instead."

The commander glanced over at 8, before pinching the bridge of their nose and sighing loudly. "Of course. It can't be that easy, can it," they growled, before yelling off towards one of the tents. "Sunfish! Get over here, now!"

Some scrambling could be heard before a small octoling bolted out of the tent, running over to the commander's side and saluting. "Ready for orders, commander!"

"Try anything," the commander warned, jerking their head towards 8, "they die. Understand?"

3 nodded, and the commander looked back at the octoling next to them.

"Release their hands. I need you to translate." They explained, and the soldier (Sunfish?) nodded.

Sunfish speed walked over to 3, undoing their cuffs and stepping back. 3 shook out their wrists, before beginning to sign.

"Good luck getting a drone to the base. They'll shoot it down without a second thought. We all know not to touch drones, even when seemingly deactivated. We're not idiots, we know that most of them explode," 3 signed, smug grin still plastered on their face.

Sunfish relayed this to the commander in octarion, who growled in response. After a few seconds of the two captains glaring at each other, a smirk crossed the commander's face. They glanced over to 8, to which 3 stiffened up.

"Tie them back up, then go back to setting up camp." They commanded, watching as the octoling did just that. Then, they turned to 8. Walking over, they undid 8's bindings, yanking them to their feet.

8 glanced back to 3, panicked, noticing the same look on the captain's face. They were shoved forwards, towards the expansive valley. Wait. Nonono. They couldn't leave 3 here, they were the reason 3 was here in the first place! They didn't even know the way back to the base!

"Fine. Maybe they will be ready to accept one of their agents," the commander snarked, before turning to 8. "I'm giving you one chance. Tell them that we want D.J. Octavio in exchange for your captain, and to meet us at Lionfish Ridge. If you try to come back here, I will kill your friend and then you. Understood?"

8 could only nod, petrified. They didn't know the valley, they could die! No, they would die. 3 was struggling against the cuffs, staring at the commander with a terrifying glare.

Before 8 knew it, they were being dragged forwards, led to what was likely certain death. Once they were somewhat far from the camp, they were shoved forwards, landing uncomfortably on the sandy ground. Scrambling up, they glanced at the commander, before hesitantly running into the valley. They could do this. Right?

They could not do this.

It had been an hour since they left, and they were almost more lost than they were originally. It all looked the same to them, only an occasional tree or octopus statue breaking up the monotony. All the structures had been abandoned, leaving a mix between an industrial wasteland and a beautiful valley.

Collapsing against a wall, 8 sucked in a deep breath. They had to keep going, but they had no idea where they were and the sun had begun to set. It got cold in the valley at night, much too cold for any inkling or octoling to survive without shelter. So, they needed to find the base in the next hour, or make a shelter. The first option is so unlikely it might as well be impossible, so the second option it was.

8 managed to find an old, semi-intact squee-G, and after borrowing a battery from a helicopter helmet and tearing out the cooling system, they had at least some source of heat. It wasn't long after that they found a small divot in a cliff face. With some squeezing, it was just big enough to fit them and the squee-G. It was easier to fall asleep than they expected, considering their current circumstances. They gratefully accepted the darkness, even as their back pressed uncomfortably against a ridge and a hot squee-G was tucked into their chest.

Chapter Text

8 woke up to a soft tapping sound. Prying their eyes open, they were met with rain only inches from their face. They jolted back, only for their head to bang against a stone wall. A wave of dizziness washed over them, and they fought the urge to throw up. They squeezed their eyes shut, waiting for the spinning to subside. They felt horrible. Their back and neck hurt, and they were freezing. The squee-G had run out of battery some time during the night, although it had still managed to burn their exposed midriff.

Opening their eyes again, 8 took in their surroundings. It was raining, not enough to be necessarily harmful, but definitely unpleasant. It seemed to be around midday, which surprised 8. They usually woke up in the early morning, before the sun was out. They only slept in if they were sick. 

Carefully, they pushed the squee-G out of the cave, watching as it clattered to the ground. They followed after it, landing quietly and wincing as the water nipped at their skin. It hurt, but if they stayed under cover as much as possible, they would probably be fine.

Ignoring the various aches and pains in their body, they headed off further into the valley. 

As they continued, the grogginess and pains from sleeping did not go away. They almost seemed to get worse. They had to stop to rest much more often than they'd like, their body completely giving up on them several times. They felt too hot and too cold at the same time, and could barely feel the rain anymore. Had it gotten heavier? They couldn't tell.

Finally, they found something that they recognized. Three stone archways crossed the valley far ahead, almost mimicking the many octopus statues. It was far away, but at least they knew where they were. A small smile crept onto their face, straining their cracked lips.

8 stumbled to a nearby tree, dizziness overtaking them once more. They felt like throwing up, and nearly did as they collapsed against the trunk.

"Ok, it isn't far. Probably no more than two or three miles," they considered, licking their lips. Their vision was swimming, and they could only squeeze their eyes shut as the world spinned around them. They had started to take longer and more frequent breaks, which was extremely irritating. Didn't their body know how dire the situation was?! The captain's life was on the line, and here they were, needing to stop every hour for a 20 minute break. They absolutely hated it.

Eventually, 8's vision stabilized somewhat. Slowly, they dragged themself to their feet using the tree. It almost made them fall over again.

8 stumbled back into the rain, body protesting with everything it had. Every small pain had increased tenfold, sending shockwaves through their body with each step. It wasn't even 20 steps later when they were overtaken by an intense feeling of vertigo, falling to the ground. 8 dry heaved onto the ground, gasping for air and the world spun and twisted around them. It was horrible. They couldn't even find the strength to cry.

They waited for the feeling to end, but it only seemed to get worse. They could only curl up on the ground, shutting their eyes against the suddenly too-bright sky. They got the feeling that they wouldn't be getting up anytime soon. They hated it. They needed to get up, they needed to save 3! Despite this, it seemed that their stupid body had finally given in. Even thinking about getting up made them even more nauseous.

"I'm sorry, 3. I failed. I can't do this." Finally, tears started rolling down 8's cheeks, mixing with the rain on the ground. It shouldn't have been them. They were weak, their body was weak. The marks on their back proved it. They didn't know if they would respawn this time, the respawn points in the valley were notably faulty. Hopefully their friends wouldn't miss them too much. Maybe they'd find a better, more competent agent.

"-hit, 8?!" 

8's ears perked up at the sound of someone saying their name. They couldn't quite piece together who it was, and they could only hope that it was another agent.

"Wait, hold on, I'll get you out of here. Stay with me, okay? 8?"

Their brain was very slow at deciphering the words, especially since it was inkling dialect. That narrowed it down. No, wait, it didn't. They were the only agent who spoke octarion.

They shuttered as someone lifted them up, cracking open an eye. Their vision was still swimming, but they recognized short, bright orange tentacles. Agent 4.

Wait. Agent 4! They needed to tell them! They opened their mouth to speak, but only managed to produce a weak whine.

"Don't worry, we're going to the cabin. We have first aid and painkillers there," 4 responded urgently, glancing around.

No! They didn't understand. 8 shook their head, which caused them to shudder. 4 looked down at them, probably confused. 8 opened their mouth again, trying desperately to say something, anything.

"Oh. Uh, are you trying to speak?" 4 questioned. 8 nodded their head vigorously. "Ok. Um, can it wait until we get back? We should probably get you some water."

8 shook their head, reaching up to grasp 4's hero suit weakly. "3…" they managed to whisper, which seemed to catch 4's attention.

"Wait, 3? Are they okay? What happened?" 4's eyes widened, leaning down closer to 8.

Coughing slightly, they thought of what to say next. For some reason, they couldn't come up with the words in inkish. It was like everything they had learned was locked behind a wall, leaving them to struggle. "Danger," they mumbled. It was weak, but the best they could do at the moment.

"Wait, danger?! Are they hurt? What happened? Why aren't they here? Oh cod, are they dead? Please tell me they aren't dead," their tone was panicked, their head darting around.

8 shook their head, gaining a sigh of relief from the other agent.

"Where are they then? Do you know? They said they were going out to look for you, and didn't come back. Marie almost had a panic attack, she nearly wore a hole through the ground with her pacing," 4 explained.

The constant stream of words from the other agent's mouth was making 8's head spin. 

Shakily reaching up, 8 tapped the sucker on top of their head. They couldn't remember the word for octarian, and they doubted they could speak anyway.

"Tentacles?" 4 questions, and 8 shook their head. "Hair? Sucker? Octarian?" they continued on.

8 nodded at the last one, 4's mouth forming into a small "o" shape.

"Where?! Wait, how did they get them? What did they want? Why aren't they with you?" 4's stream of questions continued endlessly. As glad 8 was to find another agent, they wished that 4 could be a little quieter.

8 shivered, wincing as a spike of pain shot through their abdomen. Luckily, 4 noticed, which seemed to remind them of the current situation.

"Oh, shellfish! Right, let's get you out of here. The base isn't far, just hold on, okay?" 4 turned and began speedwalking through the valley, jostling 8 slightly. They gripped the other's hero suit tightly, allowing themself to zone out.

They were brought back by 4 shouting something, causing them to flinch. The world was still spinning, and whatever adrenaline they had from meeting 4 was fading fast.

8 vaguely felt themself being lowered down onto a soft surface, their hands pried away from 4's shirt. A cold hand pressed against their forehead, and they whined, flinching back. Someone was talking, but the words sounded far away and indecipherable.

Finally, some words managed to make it to their ears.

"Hey, 8? Can you hear me? It's Marie, we're at Cuttlefish Cabin right now," the voice spoke.

8 blinked their eyes open, meeting Marie's golden ones. The older agent offered them a tight smile, before continuing.

"Ok, great. Can you tell us what happened? 4 told us some parts, but we need to know more."

"4 said they can't talk, remember? Also, should we really be interrogating them right now? They look like shit, and I'm sure they feel like shit too," Callie commented from somewhere in the room, prompting Marie to look back.

"Well, do you have any better ideas, genius? The captain's in danger, and we can't exactly let our only lead pass out for 12 hours before we know anything," Marie spat back, although she sounded more worried than angry.

"Oh! I have an idea!" 4 spoke up. 8 heard a rustling sound, before 4 motioned for Marie to scoot over and sat down by them. They held something in their hand, which they held out to 8. "Here, you can write it down or draw it or something. That's what we did before Cap knew sign." 

Looking closer, it appeared to be an old notebook and pen. Shakily, 8 took it, propping themself up enough to draw. They could barely remember how to speak inkish, and they had no chance of figuring out how to write it.

A tense silence hung in the room, only broken by the light sound of pen and paper. 

After a few minutes, 8 put down the pen, holding the notebook out to judge their handiwork. They had done their best to draw 3 and the Octavio-globe, adding arrows in-between to signify a trade. Below it, they had done their best to draw the ominous overhangs of the ridge, where the camp was. It was simple and crude, but hopefully it would work.

Collapsing back into the pillow, they handed the open notebook back. They closed their eyes as the two oldest agents crowded around 4.

"Thanks, 8. You can chill now," Callie smiled. 8 rolled over onto their side, trying to shut out the too-bright lights.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you need to take medication and drink water. We also need to do some first aid, but we can do that while you're asleep if you don't mind. We'll wait until you're awake if we need to do anything underneath your clothes," Marie explained, causing 8 to groan slightly. They just wanted to sleep. Was that so much to ask?

Reluctantly, they sat up, taking the pills and water given to them. They swallowed the pills, before downing the water. Swallowing the water was difficult, but they managed to get it all down. They felt quite a bit better afterwards, but still not great.

After giving Callie permission to do first aid while they slept, they were finally able to sleep. It took no time at all for them to pass out.

warning for nightmare scene/gore

8 woke up on a cold floor.

Blearily, they looked around, eyes widening as they recognized the cold walls of Kambado. They scrambled up, glancing at their back. Their fears were confirmed as they noticed the sack of sanitized ink strapped to them. Desperately, they clawed the straps, doing everything in their power to get this thing off their back. They backed up, eyes darting around wildly as they clutched the bands in a death grip.

Something bumped up against 8's back. They tried to spin around, but were stopped by hands wrapping tightly around their waist.

Glancing back, their stomach sunk to the ground. They couldn't see much, but they were able to make out green, scarred tentacles.

8 was shoved to the ground, a boot landing on their stomach. They wheezed, meeting the golden-brown and sanitized green eyes of 3.

"You left me. Why?" they asked in a scratchy voice. 8 was startled. It was weird hearing the Captain speak. They lost their ability to speak after getting part-sanitized, although they apparently didn't say much even when they could speak.

"I-I didn't want to! I swear, 3-" 8 called desperately, wincing as 3 shoved their boot farther into their stomach.

"Liar. You ran. Like the coward that you are. You could have gone back, could have saved me. Instead, you bundered around the valley for a day and a half and nearly died. Pathetic."

8 shook their head, tears pricking at their eyes. "They would have killed you if I had gone back!"

8 was met with silence. Confused, they looked up. They immediately wished they hadn't.

3 was on their knees, clutching their face. Green goop leaked through their fingers, mixed with blood and tears. The longer 8 looked, the worse it seemed to get. Their fingers bent at strange angles, and blood ran down from new injuries on their tentacles and face.

8 gasped, running forwards to catch them as they fell to their side. No, no no no no! This wasn't supposed to happen!

"3!" 8 screamed, their fingers slipping through the captain's broken body.

End of gorey part. What you need to know is that 3 is really injured in the nightmare.

8 blinked, and they were laying down. Bolting upright, they felt a blanket fall off of them. They were on some sort of cot, and their head spun as they moved.

They swung their feet off the side, pushing themself up quickly. The room immediately started to spin and tilt, and they felt themself hit the floor with a loud thump. They heaved water and stomach acid onto the floorboards, blearily trying to push themself up.

"Holy swordfish, 8!" someone yelled, running over to their side. 8 shoved them away as the figure tried to grab their arms. They didn't have time for this! They needed to save the captain! The image of 3's body flashed through their mind, and they shuddered.

The figure was still trying to grab them, but they wouldn't go down without a fight. Even in their fevered state, they managed to keep the stranger at bay.

"Marie, I could use some help here!" whoever it was called, and 8 fought harder. If only the room would stop spinning, they could easily take out this fool.

Suddenly, two pairs of hands were grappling them. They tried to fight, but they were weak and outnumbered. This didn't stop them from trying.

"8." someone spoke sternly, right by their ear. They froze. "8, you're okay. You're sick, and I don't know what is going on, but you need to rest."

Finally looking back, 8 recognized Callie and Marie. They stopped fighting, the feeling of confusion and betrayal filling them. Why were they trying to stop 8? 3 was in danger, they must know that!

"Why?" 8 whispered.

The two cousins glanced at each other and then 8, clearly confused.

"Why are you stopping me? 3 is hurt. Their face was melting. They were bleeding." 8 sobbed, subconsciously trying to pull their arms away to wrap around themself.

"8, you can't possibly know that. You've been asleep since you got back, remember?" Callie reminded them, voice softer than before.

This only confused 8 more. Did they not know? It seemed obvious to them, 3 was in danger and they needed to help them.

"C'mon, let's get you back to bed. 4's scoping out the situation now, and they'll be back before you wake up." Callie explained, moving to gently pull 8 to their feet. Marie followed, causing 8 to panic.

"No, no no no no," they mumbled, thrashing weakly against the arms holding them. The adrenaline from before had worn off though, quickly being replaced by mind-numbing exhaustion. 8 didn't fight back, couldn't fight back, as they were lowered onto the cot and a blanket was pulled over them. Tears leaked from their eyes as the exhaustion took over, turning their arms and legs into lead. They barely managed to mumble a few words of dissent as they fell under.

Chapter Text

It had been a surprisingly boring couple of days. Since 8 left, not much had happened. They had expected to be tortured for information or something like that, but instead, they were just left handcuffed to some rusty piece of old tech. Some soldier would give them food and water every day or so, which they begrudgingly accepted.

Unfortunately, the mundaneness left them time to think. Usually, they would go play turf war or patrol when they got stuck in their thoughts. With nothing to distract them, their mind had drifted.

They were proud of where they had ended up. They were the Captain of the New New Squidbeak Splatoon, they had family, friends, and a porpoise. They were no longer a scared little kid shakily clutching a heroshot with no other options than to fight. They had gone through homelessness, a war, brainwashing, losing their voice, and still managed to find happiness. It had taken a long time, filled with sleepless nights and working their body until it collapsed, but they had done it. And they were proud of themself for that.

When they saw that knife at 8's throat, they felt like that 14 year-old inkling again. They felt like the terrified little kid that stared a tyrant down in the middle of a hallway full of octolings that hated them. They were stronger now, but at that moment, they were powerless. Powerless to do anything but surrender, in hopes of saving 8's life.

And now, things were even worse. 8 was probably lost in the valley due to 3's smart mouth, and they would either die or be traded for DJ Octavio's freedom. They didn't know which option they preferred.

All their limbs had felt like lead since they were captured, probably due to the collar thing. If 3 had to guess, it was probably some sort of limiter on steroids.

3 was shaken awake by the commander. Batting open an eye, they immediately closed them and pretended to fall back asleep. This did not seem to amuse the octarian, who yanked them to their feet. 3 stumbled, legs numb from sitting so long and ankles still cuffed together.

Their ankles and wrists burned as they were shoved forwards, unable to move faster than a snail's pace on their own. Whatever this limiter was, it was powerful. They might have to give it to 8 or Marie to dissect.

Looking around, 3 noticed octoling soldiers gathering around in full combat gear. They didn't get much time to consider what this meant as they were dragged onwards, deeper into the valley. The soldiers followed, goggles on their face and ink weapons in their hands.

About 20 minutes later, they stopped. 3 had mostly tuned out, too tired to pay attention. However, a glimpse of brightly colored cephalopods caught their eye. The group stopped, and 3's stomach dropped. Standing in front of them were all of the agents, excluding 8.

3 had never felt more terrified in their life.

"Glad you could make it," the commander snarked from behind 3. "Let us make this quick."

3 could now get a proper look at the agents across from them. Marie looked ready to pounce, hands shakily gripping her hero charger as she glared at the octoling. Callie didn't seem to be doing much better, chewing on her lip and eyes locked with 3. Neo 3 looked seconds away from tears, and 4 was standing next to them, fiddling with their inkbrush.

"You want Octavio, right?" Callie spoke up, clearly trying to hide the shake in her voice.

3's eyes widened. Wait, they weren't considering it, right?

"Yes. You give us Octavio, we give you your leader," the commander gripped 3's neck, a grin in their voice. 

Meeting Callie's eyes again, 3 shook their head. The hand on their neck tightened, keeping them from moving again.

Callie tilted her head at them questioningly, brows furrowing. 3 mustered up the most captain-ly glare they could, trying to make it clear that it was an order. Callie didn't seem to understand, unfortunately, and she glanced over to Marie. They really wish their hands were unbound so they could speak.

After a few glances between the agents, they all congregated. After a few seconds of hushed whispering, Callie stepped forwards.

After clearing her throat, Callie spoke up. "No."

"No?" The commander raised an eyebrow, gripping 3's neck tighter.

"No," Marie clarified, stepping forwards next to Callie.

3 chewed the inside of their cheek. This is what they wanted, right? Why were they so scared?

"Shame, we could have solved this with peace. I have one more thing that might convince you." 3's stomach sunk at the smirk in the commander's voice. The hand gripping their neck released, only to grab the tentacles at the back of their head.

After a few seconds of tense silence, 3's neck lit up in pain. Their legs buckled, now only being held up by the unrelenting grip on their tentacles.

It burned. 3 couldn't do anything but try to scream, which only produced a pained wheeze. Desperately, they clawed at their neck, needing to escape, to leave, to get this thing off of them. They vaguely heard yelling, but it sounded distant though the ringing in their ears. They writhed and twisted in place, every instinct telling them to get away, that they were in danger.

Suddenly, they were dropped to the ground. Their limbs had tensed up, and they couldn't do anything except fall to the dirt painfully. They twitched painfully on the ground, able to see flashes of blue and yellow through blurry eyes. They let out a pained whine, wanting more than anything to be able to claw this thing off their neck.

Suddenly, there were hands gripping them, holding their flailing limbs in place. They struggled, trying to move away as someone attempted to remove the collar. As soon as they touched it, their hands retracted. 3 sobbed silently as shaky hands continued to pin them down, wanting more than anything to fall unconscious, or to do anything that got them away from the overwhelming feeling of pain.

As soon as they had come, the hands left. 3 didn't have much time to process the change as seconds after, a beam of ink hit their neck, hard. The collar broke, and they immediately went limp as they were thrown backwards. The ink itself didn't hurt, and it was probably their own color since they weren't immediately splatted. Their brain supplied that it was a charger shot. Skidding against the ground painfully, they came to a stop in a puddle of their own ink. They gasped for breath as pins and needles filled their body, unfamiliar wetness coating their cheeks.

"Captain!" a voice screamed, and 3 recognized it as Callie. Said inkling came sliding to a stop by 3, kneeling down and staring at them with terrified eyes. "Holy Swordfish, are you okay?! I don't know what the flip that thing was, but it did not want to get off of you. I tried to break it, but it shocked me! Is that what it was doing to you? Anyway, Marie ended up shooting it off with her charger! I-"

Callie was cut off by 3 attempting to sit up, only for their vision to go black as they fell back to the ground.

"Woah, slow down there," Callie warned them, before turning around and shouting towards Neo 3. "Hey, Agent 3! Bring Little Buddy over here!"

Neo 3 walked over with the small salmonid, which confused 3. They watched as the younger agent pulled some power eggs out of their pocket, setting Little Buddy down next to 3's feet. Silently, they offered the eggs to the salmonid, before tapping the cuffs on 3's ankles. It gratefully ate up the power eggs, before chomping down on the cuffs.

With the help of Callie, they rolled into their side, allowing the salmonid to get at their handcuffs. It was a trick Neo 3 had taught it a while ago, although it took a lot of work to get it to not eat past the thing they tapped.

Rolling onto their back, they rested their head on Callie's knees. They flexed their wrists, wincing as it pulled at the raw skin that had formed there.

"Where's 8?" they signed, looking up towards Callie.

"At Off The Hook's place, currently. 4 found them near the bridges yesterday. They had a really high fever and couldn't speak, but they managed to draw enough so we could figure out what was going on." Callie explained. 3 realxed slightly at that, glad they were safe. They had been really worried, since the octoling barely knew the canyon and it got very cold at night. 3 had occasionally spent a couple nights out while on missions, but they always had proper equipment.

"That's good. So, what happened? Also, do you have water? And maybe painkillers? My neck hurts," they asked, licking their lips. Now that the adrenaline had started to wear off, they were tired.

"Oh, right. I'll tell you, just wait a second." Marie turned, probably towards another agent. "MARIE!" she shouted, pausing to wait for a response.

"WHAT?!" Marie yelled back.

"CAN YOU BRING ME THE FIRST AID KIT?" 

"I DON'T HAVE IT! I THINK 4 DOES!"

"CAN YOU GO GET IT FROM THEM?"

"CAN'T YOU ASK AGENT 3? THEY'RE RIGHT THERE AND I'M BUSY!"

"WELL, YOU'RE CLOSER TO 4!"

"YOU DIDN'T KNOW 4 HAD IT WHEN YOU STARTED YELLING AT ME!"

"OK, THANKS MARIE!" Callie shouted at her cousin, before turning back to 3. They couldn't help but snort at the interaction. Callie seemed to notice, raising an eyebrow at them. "Something funny, Captain?"

3 thought for a moment, before signing in response. "I just missed you guys."

"Wow, you leave for 4 days and suddenly you're all mushy?" Callie teased, a small smile creeping into her face. "But yeah, I missed you too. We all did. You should have seen Marie, she was pacing so much she nearly wore through the floorboards."

3 chuckled a bit at that, despite the circumstances. They were just happy to see their friends again, after a rough few days.

"Right! I was going to explain what happened!" Callie reminded herself, before launching into a long-winded explanation.

Apparently, things had descended into chaos when 3 didn't return. They had put everything on hold to scour nearby areas, but couldn't find anything besides signs of a scuffle in the old hotel. After 8 was found, they sent 4 out to investigate and called Neo 3 and Deep Cut for an emergency meeting. Once they had a better understanding of what was going on, Marie called Off The Hook to take care of 8 while they launched an ambush. Apparently, they were always planning to say no to the offer. While the octarians were distracted, Deep Cut attacked from behind, just as planned. 3 was proud. 

Once they had gotten 3 mostly patched up, the group reconvened. 3 thanked Shiver, Fry, and Big Man. Callie offered to carry them back, which they hesitantly accepted.

Leaning their head on Callie's shoulder, 3 closed their eyes. They let themself relax to the gentle bouncing as she walked, listening to idle conversation between the agents. They were tired. Maybe… maybe they could sleep a little. The world began to fade away into darkness, along with the idle voices around them. Their various aches and pains dissipated into nothing as they drifted away from the waking world, and they let out a quiet sigh. The last thing they felt was Callie shifting underneath them.