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He turns, and there is a spear right behind him.
He stretches out a hand, even as he knows it won’t be enough, as his Lighthouse shield splinters and cracks like glass, as cobalt blue eyes blow wide, as realization sinks in his chest, he’s going to die, there is an echo, a scream of his name, and—
Bam watches him fall, a blur of blue and a smear of red, collapsing with the barest of thuds, almost graceful, if not for the way he lies unmoving.
“Khun-ssi…?”
He’s not supposed to be that still, that silent. He’s not supposed to look that shocked, those stunning blue irises, gorgeous even…
Blood flows out from his neck, a macabre sculpture of a man who reacted too late, who wasn’t powerful enough to stop death hurtling towards him. The spear is on the ground, tainted crimson, having hit true. The pool of red grows, seeping out onto stainless steel, so oddly shiny and clinical despite the dullness of the one laying on it.
His hand is still frozen mid-air, Shinsu thrumming at his fingertips, but he wasn’t fast enough, he wasn’t powerful enough, he wasn’t enough—
Bam doesn’t notice the stunned silence. Doesn’t notice the way everyone in the room stills as a Family Head steps out from the fragments of a ruined Lighthouse field. Doesn’t notice as Gustang starts to speak, his gaze is fixed on the limp body of his Lightbearer, his friend, his—
“KHUN-SSI!”
Gustang pauses mid-sentence. He doesn’t blink as raging black Shinsu erupts from behind him, as Bam throws himself at the Gray Wolf branch leader, fingertips sharpening into claws, horns glinting like those of a ruthless demon, wings spread like an angel of death coming to collect his dues. He slashes through the wolf, gaze fixed on the branch leader, who looks startled at the raw, burning fury behind wrathful golden eyes. A hint of fear seeps into his expression, and Bam strikes, orb fueling his strikes. The branch leader is strong, blocking and dodging, but Bam won’t lose. He refuses to. There is shouting below him, but he lets his vision narrow down to a single point, lashing out again and again until one attack finally goes through and draws blood.
The sweet metallic scent swamps his senses, and he lunges again.
Again.
Again.
He needs more power. More power to make the man pay. More power to avenge Khun, who lies dead behind him, because of this man who drove a spear through his throat—
He screams, a raw, anguished cry of sorrow and agony and rage, tearing through whatever he can get his hands on—skin, flesh, bone—even as sharp teeth and claws and Shinsu crashes down on him from behind as someone tries to get him to stop. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter what happens to him as long as this man ends up dead at his feet, just as he did to Khun.
Then, cutting through the haze of grief— “Stop.”
His body freezes mid-strike. Golden eyes dart towards the Family Head, then back towards his target, refusing to let the man escape his sight, even as the branch leader struggles to pull himself up, blood trickling down from multiple open wounds. Bam strains against the reverse flow control, but Gustang is still far more powerful, throwing him back onto the hard metal with barely a glance of his eyes. “That’s enough.”
How dare he. How dare he—
“BLACK TURTLE!” Before Bam can lunge again, Rak is grabbing him, yanking him back. “The Blue Turtle isn’t dead!”
There’s an uncharacteristic note of fear in Rak’s voice that Bam hasn’t heard before, enough to get him to pause. “What do you mean?! Khun-ssi is—”
He looks back towards Khun and stills.
The blood is still there, pooled on the ground. But the wound is…sealed. Gone. And around Khun hovers the firefish, flames licking his skin. Bam scrambles over, hovering over Khun anxiously. “Khun-ssi?” He reaches out carefully, no-longer-claws shakily tracing over the smooth skin that had been broken, gushing blood. Khun is warm. Abnormally so. But as Bam shifts his hand down, pressing down slightly, he feels the pulse underneath, faint yet steady.
Khun is breathing.
Khun is alive.
Bam sinks down on his knees, ignoring the way blood seeps into his clothes, ignoring how Gustang has turned his attention back to the branch leaders, and instead focuses on Khun. His trembling hands cradle Khun to his chest, a sudden sob springing unbidden as he clutches Khun close and cries. He had been so close, and he did nothing, and Khun had nearly slipped away from him for good—
“He’s alive,” Rak rumbles next to him, soft and reassuring. “Just like last time.”
Bam sniffles. Then Rak’s words sink in. “…What do you mean…last time?”
For a split second, the gator has a comical expression of utter regret, before he huffs and sits down next to Bam. “During the contest with Puppy Turtle, the Blue Turtle was also hurt. By Green Puppy Turtle.”
Paul? When did he—
“The Firefish Turtle brought him back,” Rak says. “I told the Blue Turtle to tell you, but he’s a stubborn turtle. Thinks he’s being all strong by not saying anything.”
That does sound like Khun, as much as Bam hates it.
Khun shifts in his lap. Bam startles as bleary blue eyes blink open, flicking around and up. “…Bam?” His hand drifts towards his neck, right where the spear had struck. His fingers rub against the skin, nails scratching absentmindedly, and Bam is suddenly struck with the thought that he might cut himself again—the newly healed skin is likely still delicate, still easy to break, and he’s grabbing Khun’s wrist and jerking it away before he can think twice.
Khun stares up at him, eyes wide. “Bam?” he says, a little hesitant. “What’s wrong?”
And of course, he would ask that, like Bam didn’t just see him die in front of him, like he hadn’t been bleeding out moments earlier. “Don’t,” Bam says, sharper than he intends, and Khun’s attention snaps towards him. Bam tries to force the edge softer. “Don’t do that. Please.”
“I…I’m sorry,” Khun murmurs. Like it’s his fault for dying. Except from the look in his eyes, he actually believes that. He’s upset, not because he died, but because his death hurt Bam.
“That’s not what this is about,” Bam says. “I—Why didn’t you tell me you died before?”
And he sees it in Khun’s expression before Khun even opens his mouth to answer that it’s for the exact same reason. “Khun-ssi.”
“I…I didn’t want you to worry. About something inevitable.”
It is not inevitable. I wouldn’t let you die even if you wanted me to. The thought comes to him so naturally that Bam briefly wonders when it had become a fact. It’s not something Khun would take easily, he thinks, and so he tucks that little tidbit away for now, for another day. There’s something else implied in that statement too, something like I didn’t want to be left behind, something Bam knows all too well.
But it’s not something to be discussed now, in the middle of battle, in the presence of a Family Head and all their friends and foes. Gustang commands the attention of the room right now, as a warp portal opens behind them, allowing them an exit. The branch leaders have backed down. Even they know better than to challenge a Family Head without their own.
“We’re going to talk about this later,” Bam promises, and already sees the displeasure starting to form in the furrow of Khun’s brow. “Later. When we’re somewhere safe, and we have some time to ourselves.” Sensing Khun’s instinctive denial, he adds, softer, “I’m glad you’re alive. I’m glad you’re still here with me.”
“…Yeah.” Khun looks like he wants to argue, but at the very least, he drops it for now. “For what it’s worth…me too.”