Archive of Our Own

I.

Pac was tired.

Well, tired was an understatement.

He was exhausted, that seemed like a better word for it.

Who knew that spending all day, from the first rays of sunlight to the time close to his bedtime when the moon was already high up in the sky would be tiring?

Definitely not him from this morning.

His whole body ached as he sat on his big chair, letting the door to his home close behind it, body sagging like a puppet with cut strings on the furniture.

He closed his eyes and took away his sunglasses, tucking them into his pants pocket.

Bringing his hands against his face, he felt his eyes sting as he groaned into them.

It had been a long ass day. He had managed to get the cords for a Forlorn Hollows biome with Philza and he was sure he would be able to finally get the bow that he set his mind to.

But no, he had died so many times that even respawning didn’t erase the bruises and places he needed to bandage every time he appeared home.

He didn’t want to, but he felt useless.

Useless that he knew others had managed to find those caves and yet he had to ask for help after struggling for hours.

Useless that he couldn’t get through a challenge without backing down like a coward.

Useless that even after so much pain and suffering, he still didn’t have the bow he wanted.

It was humiliating, to say the least.

He could almost hear Fit’s voice in his head, trying as always to cheer him up, and make him trust himself.

However, Pac shooed away those thoughts.

Fit wasn’t here. He hadn’t been for at least a week.

They hadn’t seen each other for almost a month since the day he went to deliver that data.

Their goodbye replied in his head in his nightmares almost daily. If that were the last time he saw Fit, that would be their goodbye.

His heart ached at the thought.

“I’m in there.” were his words. But was it selfish to think that wasn’t enough?

He didn’t want only to have memories of him.

He wanted to see him, to stare into his hazel eyes every time they met, to feel the way his hugs made him safer than any kind of armor could ever do, to hear that handsome voice and laughter that made his days better, to-

He felt a single tear escape and quickly wiped it away.

He couldn’t. He couldn’t let those kinds of thoughts win. He had to be strong. Just like he would want him to be.

Strong to protect his friends and family. Strong to make Fit proud, wherever he was.

He needed to get a hold of himself.

Gathering his backpack that sat on his feet, he brought it close as he started to sort through the materials he had gathered.

Maybe he had grabber something useful that his brain while trying to survive didn’t fully grasp, something-

“AI!”

His index finger pricked on something.

Bringing the pad of his finger close to inspection. A bit of blood was pouring but nothing serious. It would probably heal on its own.

Curious about what had just hurt him, he looked inside, being greeted by red petals and green leaves.

Roses .

He brought the small bush close, forgetting the backpack. He had completely forgotten about them.

The sight of a field of roses as he traveled to gather his items for what felt like the umpteenth time brought a comforting aura to his mind. He was so tired but the image of the sun setting behind the field, wind blowing petals and leaves away somehow had managed to give him a little strength.

So he grabbed a single bush, not caring that he would need to discard something for it when he got his items back. It was the first time that day that he felt like things would be going right, even if it only lasted until he died the next time.

Roses. The flowers he had associated with Fit since that fateful day in Starbobby. Who knows where he would be if not for Richarlyson’s scheming?

Roses. Just like Fit, if cared like they deserved, showed their most beautiful parts to those who deserve it. A flower with a defense system that Pac never shied away no matter how it looked like it could hurt him

He smiled, getting up from the chair and searching for a vase to set the roses, in a place where everyone would see them.

The rain started pitter-pattering against his widow. He looked outside, scared he had again forgotten the clothes hanging. He let out a sigh of relief when saw nothing hanging.

Then his eyes fell into an empty spot in the garden, he and Richas made plans to decorate it before all the eggs fell into deep sleep.

The spot was a perfect view from his new bedroom too.

A light bulb went off in his mind.

He threw open the door to the garden, not caring when the droplets fell against his sweaty skin, sending shivers down his spine.

He kneeled in front of the spot, muddy soil staining his jeans, yet he didn’t care.

The dirt was uncomfortable, getting under his bitten nails as he did his best to dig a hole into the garden. His already chipped black nail polish would really need to get a new coat.

The rain pouring made his hair stick to his hair, feeling the droplets of water get rid of the sweat from running around the island all day long.

It didn’t matter, he would take a shower after this anyway.

Once he deemed the hole was big enough, he turned to the bucket with the rose bush, carefully removing it and placing it in the hole, making sure the roots were carefully inserted.

As he filled the soil around the roots, he saw his reflection on the droplets that fell from the petals to the ground.

He looked worse for wear. The eye bags were way too obvious now, soon his sunglasses would not be enough to hide it.

He needed sleep, he knew. But he couldn’t. Not until he found that bow. Not until he got better at it. Not until he was good enough to make his family proud. To make Fit proud, wherever he was.

It was dumb, Fit wasn’t gone. He had specifically said that he was just sleeping. Yet it didn’t make sense to him. He had checked everywhere for his bed.

Pac knew Fit could probably be actually sleeping somewhere hidden, just like he did back in the other part of the island. Somewhere far from Ramón and everyone else.

But his heart wouldn’t stop screaming that something was wrong. That something had happened to his boyfriend.

The cloud of worry over his thoughts was blown away when thunder rumbled in the sky. The storm had started to get more violent, the wind blowing against his face.

He got up, knees wobbling (how long had he stayed there?), and entered his house, discarding his muddy boots by the door untying his arm guard, and going downstairs to finally shower and take the dirt from the day off his body.

The shower was warmer than the rain, but he still felt cold no matter what.

The soreness of his body apparently was just waiting for his body to find the first ounce of relaxation to let them be known.

Already in his pajamas, he took a peak in the bedroom next door to his, finding Ramón and Richarlyson sound asleep together, each one clutching their respective plushies close to their body in comfort.

He missed his nenês deeply, but it was comforting to know that they were both safe and sound.

Pac smiled, kissing the forehead of each one and bringing the duvet up from where it had slipped, closing the door as softly as possible so they wouldn’t be disturbed.

As he sat in his own bed, taking away his prosthetic and laying it against his bedside table, he couldn’t help but feel he was slipping back into his worries.

He stared at the empty side of the bed, brand new and unused since he finished building his house. Xereta lay on the pillow, sleeping and purring softly.

He for a moment wondered if Fit would be mad at him for letting a cat sleep on his side of the bed and smiled, scratching behind the feline’s ear.

He dived under the covers, staring at the ceiling and back to his bedside table, where the book Fit left for him stood and sighed, closing his eyes.

He could only hope they would wake up soon. All of them.

II.

These have the worst days Fit has had in a fucking while.

He hadn’t noticed how Quesadilla Island had softened him until he was thrown into this fucking ravine.

If he was at his peak 2b2t days, surviving this would be a walk in the park. He would pay no mind to eating from the corpses to survive. Maybe he wouldn’t even need to eat them, he had several experiences of going weeks without the sight of food while traveling.

But Quesadilla Island had changed him. He had found safety and peace for the first time in thirteen years. Sure, some old habits of his die-hard, like how he didn’t feel safe for people to know where he actually slept, so he made a hidden one (that eventually everyone knew about because again, he had gotten soft.)

How could he even consider eating rotten corpses like he used to when Pac had been a victim of someone eating his leg? How could he maybe face Pac again and tell him he had done that? Would Pac forgive him? He surely didn’t deserve any forgiveness.

He didn’t want to risk it. So he just avoided it. He could survive without food. He had been drinking rainwater and until now he was doing okay, not great or good but how can you be one of these things when you’re stuck at the bottom of a ravine with dozens of corpses?

He had also found a small cave pond where he could wash himself too so by his standards he was doing okay.

Until he wasn’t.

It started with something small, his prosthetic was being a bitch and he noticed that some leaves were stuck inside of it. He managed to take them away and thought nothing more of it.

Except they kept growing and Fit couldn’t understand what the fuck was happening. He decided to leave it, he had bigger things to worry about.

Like the fact he was stuck at the bottom of a hole until his boss decided to stop this madness. Could be tomorrow, could be next week, could be next month. He had no fucking idea.

He spun his promise ring around his finger and thought of Pac. As much as his boyfriend was an anchor in his normal life, letting him know that despite everything, he had someone who wanted what was the best for him, who made him smile, who liked him for who he was, and who didn’t care about his past, he didn’t want to think much about him.

The reason was that since he was stuck in this hole on a completely different island, he had no idea how Pac was doing, and that made him afraid.

Afraid that Pac wasn’t okay, that he was alone, that he was sick, that he wasn’t getting enough sleep because Fit wasn’t there. It made his heart hurt like someone kept stabbing it nonstop.

Yet the most selfish part of his mind screamed something completely different at him.

It made him fear that Pac was mad at him, that Pac wouldn’t understand why he left, why he didn’t wait until they saw each other again even if it wasn’t completely his fault. He was afraid that Pac would forget him, that he would move on, and again, Fit wouldn’t blame him for it.

What was worse, he pondered as he stared at the cold cave walls. Was it worse for Pac to miss him enough that he began to sabotage himself? Or was it worse that Pac didn’t miss him at all?

He sighed, feeling his eyes sting. He brought his knuckles to his lips and kissed the gold ring, the cold metal helping to clear his thoughts.

III.

Pac was having a good day. They were few and far between since their kids went into a deep sleep and since Fit disappeared.

He had finally managed to get his desired bow after more than a week of struggling. He still had to pay Philza for that. And remember not to start calling him dad whenever he sees him next.

…He probably needed to talk with a therapist about this.

Anyway, he was having a pretty good day. He even has the energy to take a shower and change his clothes before the sun sets. With a book about the caves he had found and his cats in his bedroom, Coquinho grooming her newborn kitten in a little playpen he had set for them.

He was frankly ready to spend the rest of the day in bed.

But when he spied on his garden by his bedroom window, he noticed something was wrong with the roses he planted.

Bolting out of the room, not even caring to put on shoes, he kneeled on the ground near the flowers and he confirmed his suspicions.

Something was wrong with them.

The roses he had planted were withering, starting at the stem that already showed signs of not being treated right and going up to the petals that had lost their vibrant red, being replaced by a dark brown as they started dying.

Pac didn’t understand. He had taken such good care of them. He had planted and grown flowers before! It was part of his rehabilitation program, he considered himself at least half-decent at it.

Toying with the promise ring on his finger, he scrambled around his brain, trying to figure out what to do. He figured that if he did something this wrong, he couldn’t salvage it. Nevertheless, he still wanted the roses to be there, it made his garden so much prettier-

A light bulb went off in his head and he ran to his storage room, looking for something in his chests.

His heart skipped a few beats when he saw it. He had some spare rose bushes from previous times when he and Fit exchanged them or when he would find them in his adventures.

Grabbing a shovel, he went back outside and started digging the withering roses away so he could replant the new ones.

It took a while and honestly, he hadn’t realized how much searching for his new bow had made him tired until now. It honestly took him longer than it should have had and when he was done, he could see the sun setting on the horizon.

He waved at it, basking in the last rays of sunlight. If Richas was here, he would be all excited and jumping, waving at his older brother.

Pac looked at the rays, eyes watering.

The whole island had associated the sunset with Bobby and he had too of course. But now, after being away from Fit for almost a month, he has started to associate his boyfriend with other things to help him kill the growing feeling of loneliness in his heart.

The roses that they had shared so many times over the months, the trident that Fit proudly displayed since it was a gift from Pac, that single robe that he used for a joke, and now it was back in his bathroom so it wouldn’t get dusty in the shack, and now, light.

Fit made him warm, and safe from all the darkness that had plagued him in the past. Fit was the light in his life that Pac had always searched for. That he had found and now lost again.

His world wasn’t the same without Fit, without knowing where he was, if he was okay, so he clung to whatever reminded him of Fit so he could have that warmth back.

Yet robes, tridents, roses, or rays of light weren’t Fit. They would never be.

They couldn’t greet him with “Bom Dia”, they didn’t have that stunning smile that stole the air out of his lungs, they couldn’t give the best hugs Pac ever received, they didn’t have a voice that made his heart skip several beats, they didn’t have a handsome face that made it so hard to push away the thought of just looking at it forever.

They couldn’t and would never make Pac happy like when he was with Fit.

He used his hands to brush away the stray tears and took a deep breath.

Maybe he didn’t know what had actually happened to Fit. Maybe he didn’t have a way to come back. But if it was up to him, he would go to hell and back to bring him back.

No matter what happens.

IV.

Fit must’ve done something really bad in a past life. Only that would explain what the fuck he’s experiencing since being thrown down this cave.

He really was trying to be positive before. He had been physically fine, other than the fact that he was pretty sure a few of his ribs were broken from the fall.

It was fine. Wasn’t the first, second, or even third time he broke a rib or another bone. He could still do shit with broken ribs, even if they made it hard to navigate or even sleep. He had torn pieces of his own clothes to make impromptu bandages and hoped they would help while he was living down this cave.

Then his prosthetic broke.

It wasn’t his fault, it’s not like he wasn’t being careful with it. It was entirely the fault of whatever had started to happen on his left side.

It all started with the leaves that were stuck inside and kept reappearing. He at first had decided to leave it. Then they started to get between the cogs and made his prosthetic really stiff and hard to move.

So he started taking them out again and again. But every time he plucked them out, they seemed to grow faster.

One night he was awakened by pain in his arm.

He was surprised to see that whatever was growing on his arm had finally reached his flesh and started digging into his skin.

He instinctively tried to use his prosthetic to shake them off but found it unresponsive.

He took a better look, eyes already used to the darkness of the cave and Fit felt his heart drop and frustration get to him.

The leaves and stems came to a point to be so dense between the cogs and gears that took them apart, a few pieces strewn across the hard cave ground, including the one that supported his mechanical hand. Fit might not be the best engineer out there, but he knew the basics of his arm. He wouldn’t be able to fix this. At least not in this fucking hole with no tools whatsoever.

Using his (now only) hand, he tried to pull the stem off his skin but found it to be painful. Nonetheless, he managed to pull it back just enough to see literally thorns digging into his skin.

“What the fuck?” he asked himself, seeing small drops of blood trickle out. If Fit wasn’t confused now, he sure was now.

Was this something normal on this island? Was he getting affected by the possible radiation and got some kind of plant disease that was common?

He was so fucking confused. Nothing in his head made sense. He should ask his boss for questions when he sees them next. If he sees them. The last time they had spoken was when they threw him down here so as far as he knew, they would never speak again.

Fit took a deep breath and decided to just leave the plants growing. He had learned the hard way that if he plucked them out, they would just grow faster and stronger.

He could deal with a bit of pain. He was hardened by 2b2t for fuck’s sake.

He wouldn’t let whatever that was put him down. Sure the lack of a prosthetic was not fine, but he had survived months with only one functioning arm before he got his first-ever prosthetic. He could deal with this.

So he went back to sleep, trying to forget about his issues. He needed to stay positive. It’s what Pac and his son would tell him.

Soon he would be able to go back to Quesadilla Island and reunite with both of them and he would find out that this was all a big nightmare.

When he woke up hours later, he didn’t know what to do when he saw that flower buds had sprouted and were grimly decorating his arm, shoulder, and chest, especially when he recognized them as red roses.

V.

Pac must be the worst fucking gardener in existence. Is there an antonym for “green thumb?” He was that.

Either that or he’s cursed. Cursed to not be able to grow roses.

It hasn’t even been two weeks since he planted the roses in his garden and he’s had to replace them four times already. Four times. The roses just kept withering and dying.

He was frustrated. It didn’t make sense in his head.

He had even brought a sample of the soil and examined it under a microscope just in case there was some kind of poisonous or radioactive material. Nothing.

Then he borrowed a book from Philza. It belonged to Tallulah and it was filled with instructions on how to take care of several types of flowers.

He was surprised to read that he had been doing mostly what was right and didn’t think that what he wasn’t doing right would be killing his roses so fast but he complied with it and followed each instruction to a minimal T.

And they kept dying.

He was going to pull his hair out or lose it due to stress.

It was frustrating and infuriating, and it made him disappointed in himself.

The roses were supposed to be something simple to occupy his mind while he felt alone. Something that reminded him of happier times, of times when he didn’t have any worries.

But in the end, it just made him more miserable. It made him rethink his self-worth. Was he really worth anything if he couldn’t even grow some fucking flowers? Fit always said he was talented, strong, and smart. But was it true or was Fit so blindsided by his own heart?

Was he not meant to have someone or something around him? Was his life supposed to be filled with anguish and despair?

Why- Why did everything that he wanted to keep close keep dying?

Did-

Did it mean something? Why did the flowers he planted thinking of Fit keep dying?

Was the universe trying to tell him something? Was Fit-

He didn’t want to think of that. He couldn’t. He would rather think he was faded or cursed than this disaster meaning that Fit wasn’t here anymore.

He picked up the shovel that was leaning against the fence and started the process again. Take the soil out, remove the bush, and place it in the trash, then replace it.

A knock on the front door of his house claimed his attention and he walked to the other side of the fence to be able to see who it was.

Philza was standing there, a big bag in his hands that seemed to be filled with something.

“Hey, Phil!” Pac called, waving his hand to the avian, replacing his distressed expression with something more positive.

Philza caught his voice and waved back before walking the short distance towards him.

“Hey, mate.”

“What can I help you with? Are you here to try to give me those coins back? I already said I’m not-”

Philza laughed, “No, no. As much as I want you to understand I didn’t lead you to that cave wanting compensation, I understand you won’t budge.”

“Then, are you here for Tallulah’s book? I can give you back, I think I learned what I had to learn.”

“Not that either. Don’t worry, even if Tallulah was awake, she wouldn’t mind letting you borrow that book for as long as you need.”

Pac smiled, “Then, what are you here for?”

“Just wanted to check how you’re doing. I know Fit’s absence is taking a toll on you.” The blonde man smiled comfortingly and Pac was so close to letting his guard down. But not yet.

“Whaat?” he made a dismissive sound, leaning casually on the fence between them, “I’m great! I’m an adult! I-I can stay away from my boyfriend for a few weeks. Sure, this is the longest we haven’t spoken to each other since we’ve met, but- I’m fine!” He gave Phil a thumbs-up and smiled.

“Riiight… Well. I passed by earlier and saw that your roses weren’t looking so good…”

“Yeah, it’s why I asked for the book actually.” Pac rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“I guessed, yeah yeah. So I went home and got some stuff, consider it a present!”

He opened the bag he was carrying so Pac could see the contents. Roses. Some were red but the rest were yellow and white.

“I only had a few red roses, the rest were planted by Tallulah when she wanted to do a rose portrait of Chayenne. Sorry for that.”

“No no no- It’s amazing, no matter what! Thank you.” Pac grabbed the bag, closing it and holding it close, “Actually, white is Ramón’s favorite color, and yellow is Richarlyson’s! They’re gonna be happy once they wake up.”

“Oh, that’s great to hear!” Phil smiled at Pac, “But yeah, don’t mention it, mate. Hopefully, they fit right in.”

“They will! Thank you!” Pac resisted the urge to ask for a hug, tightening the grip on the bag just in case, “And I- I promise not to try to pay you for these.”

“You better not!” Phil laughed, “ But anyways, I need to go back home. Enjoy your flowers!”

“I will! Thank you!” Pac watched as the older man walked to the waystone in front of Pac’s house before disappearing in a cloud of purple particles.

Pac sighed, heart swelling as he opened the bag again, the rose bushes staring back at him.

“Let’s get to work.”

Surely this time things would work. They had to.

VI.

Fit had been used to pain in his past. For fucks sake, his entire arm was so damaged that they had to remove it without any kind of anesthesia. Being unconscious for most of the process helped but still. That was the most painful shit he had endured.

The pain had made him stronger. It had made him ready and fearless to face adversities in his time because he knew that whatever happened, it wouldn’t hurt as much as what happened with his arm.

Maybe losing his other arm. But he wouldn’t let it happen again. He had learned from his mistakes.

But still. Being used to pain didn’t mean he enjoyed it.

Laying sideways in the hard and cold dark cave, he tried to focus on his breathing or something else other than his shoulder.

Except it wasn’t just his shoulder anymore.

The stems, leaves, thorns, and roses had passed the threshold of his shoulder and started to snake onto his chest and back.

It was painful. It hurt more than most things he had endured in the last year. Every time he moved, he could feel the curved thorns holding into his skin, like a serpent that was biting and refusing to let go of him.

He had tried to pull it off but it just made things worse. He was glad the roses and blood were the same color, it would’ve been a much gorier sight for anyone seeing him.

Not that it mattered. The corpses down the hole couldn’t judge him.

He was alone.

Every time he thought of falling asleep, he was haunted by pain. If not physical, it came from his mind.

He couldn’t ignore the ghosts of the words his boss had told him. The Federation had killed everyone they loved and cherished and didn’t care. They never cared.

For the Federation, he and his friends were nothing more than lab rats testing everything they threw at them. The eggs, the elections, the pills, purgatory, the prison. They didn’t care about if people got hurt, they just wanted to test the results before fucking up everything. Before leaving them behind to die.

What if he was too late? What if when he eventually got back, it was too late for him to save his friends? To save his family? To save Pac, Ramón or Richas?

What if he was doomed to suffer the same fate as his boss? The sole survivor on an island experimented on by the Federation. Destined to watch and look over the remains of those he once held dear and close to his heart?

Fit didn’t like it when his pain was mental. It was too much for him to bear. He was used to physical pain. Not this. Not this jail of so many new feelings, emotions, and sensations.

Fit would let himself cry if he wasn’t trying to preserve the water in his body.

He almost fell back asleep, not at all ready for the emotions his nightmares would bring forth, but then a single pebble fell in front of his eyes.

He looked up and was frankly surprised to see a white cat standing on a ledge above him.

“Oh, you’re here.” He let out after a few moments, maybe thinking he would disappear and leave him alone to die.

“I am.” Madagio responded inside his head, their cat body stretching before jumping into another lower ledge.

“What did I do to deserve your so important presence?” He sat up, “Got tired of seeing me play in this fucking place?” Fit couldn’t help but be aggressive. He was tired, hungry, sick and his whole body was in constant pain.

Was Madagio expecting something from him? Was he supposed to do something to prove his worth so he could be free? If so, he was too late. If it was in the first few days, Fit would try something. He was good a rock climbing. He could probably find something or somewhere to go up again. But now, with his fucked up shoulder and missing his prosthetic, there was no way in hell he would be able to do it.

His boss only tilted their head, looking at him straight in his face before their bicolored eyes fell to his shoulder.

“Interesting predicament you’ve got there.”

Fit only huffed, “Not what I want to hear from you.”

“I imagine it isn’t.”

“Listen-” He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves, “You- What do you want?”

“I want to know if you’ve thought about what I told you.” Fit could feel the sneer in their voice.

“Yeah? Kinda hard not to think about it when you’ve shoved me into a cave with nothing but corpses.” He said, slowly getting up despite his lack of strength and motivation.

“I had to, you understand that, surely.”

“Just because I see where you’re coming from, doesn’t mean I agree with it.”

They hummed, “I see. But I think now you understand why I need you to focus on your job.”

“My job? I’m sorry, what?” Fit took a few steps forward, “My job is over. We agreed that I would give you those player data and I did.”

“Really? Can you really look me in the eyes and tell me that not even a third of the player data qualifies as you ‘doing your job’?”

Fit’s breath hitched as he tried to maintain the gaze but failed.

“Thought so too.”

“You can’t- You can’t just make me work for you forever!”

“It’s not forever. I need you to work to take down the Federation. Once you’re done, we can part ways.”

Fit wanted to scream. To tell them that was an impossible task for one man. The Federation was powerful and invincible. How was he supposed to take them down?

“I- I can’t-”

“I can always just send you back to 2b2t,” Fit hoped his panicked expression wasn’t as obvious, “and I’m sure I can find another to fulfill my mission. Your land is full of people like you. Hungry for money and riches. People that go by that old rule, ‘the ends justify the means’. Or something similar.”

“I’m not-”

“But you’re not like that anymore, are you?” They skipped a few ledges down, falling in front of Fit, “You did what I told you not to. You made friends. You created a family. You fell in love. You got attached. And it changed you.”

Fit was silent, the roses and their thorns digging much harder into his skin.

“You want to stay on that island. You want to be with those you got attached. And honestly, I can’t blame you. I warned you of attachments because I was in your shoes once. And that’s why I wanted you to see what they did to my attachments.”

They walked to the edge of the pit, head looking down.

“If you don’t want your sons and your boyfriend to end down a pit of corpses, you’ll follow through with your job.”

Fit was silent, eyes avoiding his boss. He wanted to deny it. He wanted to tell them that no, he didn’t care. But even the thought of such a lie made him want to throw up.

He heard footsteps getting close to him again and when he looked back, Madagio was back in the form of when they first met, but now their eyes could meet and they had a brown cloak around their shoulders.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Fit was paralyzed as Madagio took his cloak off, eyes once again looking at his fucked up shoulder, humming for a moment.

“I fear missing someone you love is a disease worse than any other.”

Fit was shocked at their words, still processing them as Madagio wrapped their cloak around his shoulders.

“I’ll be in touch with you soon.”

“W-What?” Fit was still stunned, eyes widening but they just smiled, bringing a finger to his forehead.

“Have a good trip back.”

And everything went dark.

VII.

His whole body ached.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise. For the whole time, he had been thrown in that ravine, every time he woke up, his whole body screamed in pain.

The weird rose corruption didn’t help.

Except, he felt less cold. Less cold than he had felt in literal days.

He opened his eyes, expecting to stare into cold, hard rock, corpses rotting at the bottom just like every time.

It was stone, his blurry eyes could make out that much. But it wasn’t what he had been getting used to.

He blinked the blurriness away and his mind came into focus and he looked around.

He wasn’t in that cave. For a moment he thought Madagio had brought him back to the base where he first showed up.

Getting up from the chair, his brain catches up as he spots his backpack lying on top of the counter.

Suddenly the most recent memories of talking to his boss flooded his brain, making him almost dizzy.

He was back.

Back in Quesadilla Island.

Back after who knows how long. It could’ve been weeks, months but also just a few days. He was unsure if time worked the same way for both islands.

He pushed away the thoughts. Those weren’t important. He needed to get home.

To see Ramón, Philza, Tubbo and-

His eyes widened.

Pac.

Pac.

With his flesh arm, he reached into the bag, taking out his communicator, only to find out it was out of battery.

Fuck.

He needed to see Pac. Now.

He slung his backpack with a bit of difficulty over his shoulder and raced outside.

It was raining, yet he didn’t care. He put his hand against the smooth texture of the waystone, selecting the direction to Pac’s home.

He wasn’t pleased when he saw the lights off in the house. It didn’t matter if he needed to stay in front of his doorstep until Pac woke up, he would. No matter how much rain, wind, or thunder he would endure.

He was about to sit against the stone when the lights in the living room brought his attention.

“Philza? Is that you? Is something wrong?”

The door opened, artificial lighting blinding Fit’s eyes momentarily. But even then, he could make out the figure silhouetted by the backlight.

“Fitch?”

He blinked away, trying his best to focus on the figure.

Finally, it focused and Fit let out a shaky breath. Pac was there. He was in front of him, wearing a loose black tank top and pajama pants, hair messy. The image made his chest flutter and his face warm.

“Pac-”

He barely managed to breathe out the word, his voice raspy from not using it for so long before being wrapped in a tight hug, almost falling backwards from the impact.

His ribs from where he had fallen hurt, the wounds stung, and his shoulder where the flowers were growing throbbed. He didn’t care.

He wrapped his flesh arm around Pac, breathing in his earthy scent, not caring about the light rain falling against them.

“Você- You’re here! I-I-I-” Pac stuttered, his face against Fit’s chest, voice rumbling against it making him shiver, “You’re back- I thought you weren’t-”

“I’ll always come back for you, Pac.” He replied, resting his chin on the top of Pac’s now damp hair, resisting the urge to plant several kisses on his head.

The Brazilian pulled away, making Fit gaze in his direction while he did the same, smiling kind and soft, making Fit’s heartbeat quicken.

Pac then suddenly drew him in for another tight hug, putting his face in the crook of his neck.

Fit grunted in pain when he squeezed one of his broken ribs.

He heard Pac take a sharp breath intake, letting him go, but still holding onto his arm.

“Fitch? Are you…” he tilted his head slightly, seeming to finally take a proper look at his boyfriend.

He glanced down at his shoulder, where the cloak Madagio had given him stood, bloodstains from where Pac had hugged him and squeezed his wounds open. He gasped.

“It-It-It’s fine! Don’t worry, it’s- it’s okay.”

It was most definitely not okay. Fit didn’t want his reunion with his boyfriend to be plagued by worry.

And as always, Pac with his heart of gold, wasn’t taking any of that shit.

His eyes gained a determined shine that made Fit feel like his throat was closing around itself.

“You’re not getting out of this that easy.” He announced, lacing their hands, eyes widening when he noticed his broken prosthetic.

He pulled Fit inside, throwing the door open and leaving it to close by itself.

Fit wondered for how long he had been gone. Pac’s house was different. It was bigger, he noticed when Pac dragged him through a small hallway and threw open the door leading to a small yet cozy bedroom.

Dark blue sheets on the bed, with fairy lights hanging above, although they were turned off. The only proper light was the one on the bedside table, probably turned on by Pac when he got up to check who had arrived.

The Brazilian turned on the lights before leading and pushing Fit to sit at the edge of the bed, being careful to not touch where he presumed the wounds were.

He helped remove Fit’s prosthetic, putting it on top of the bedside table.

“Okay,” Pac started, sitting besides Fit in the bed, “Take off the cloak.”

Fit chuckled nervously, “A bit forward for our reunion but okay-” he stopped his joke when saw Pac’s eyes narrow and his lips in a tight straight line.

He cleared his throat, unbuckling the golden clasp and letting the garment fall.

Pac’s eyes widened when he saw the bloodstains and makeshift bandages, gasping when he saw the roses and stems attached to his skin.

“What-”

“I have no idea.” Fit sighed.

Pac put his hand against his cheek and Fit leaned into the warm touch. His thumb carefully caressed the dirty skin.

“Goddess, what happened to you, Fit? Where- Where have you been?” he asked, voice just shy of a whisper, almost like he didn’t intend to say it out loud.

“It’s- It’s a long story, you know.” He tore his gaze away from Pac.

For a moment, they were both silent, the sound of the rain as it got stronger against the window as their only soundtrack.

“Tá.” Pac finally said, taking a deep breath, “Stay here.” He grabbed Fit’s prosthetic, “I’ll put this downstairs and I’ll try to fix it in the morning. I’ll also grab some stuff while I’m there.”

He kissed Fit on his forehead before getting up and walking out.

Fit watched in silence as Pac left the door open. He faintly heard the sound of the elevator block and then it was silent all over again.

“Meow”

His head snapped in the direction of the noise so fast that he was surprised his spine didn’t snap.

Pac’s cat (he was pretty sure it was Xereta) looked around the room as if searching for something or someone before walking out.

His heart was beating way too fast, his breathing getting shallower, eyes closing as he tried his best to focus on calming himself.

Except when he closed his eyes, everything he saw was the pit, full of rotting corpses, dried blood staining the walls and floor.

“Fit I-”

He opened his eyes, seeing Pac with his arms holding several bandages and healing potions.

He walked over to Fit, eyes worried as he dropped the items on the bedside table.

“Ei- Hey, it’s okay. I’m here. What do you need?”

Fit couldn’t talk, so he just held his arm open. Pac didn’t hesitate, diving in for a hug, laying his chin on top of Fit’s head and Fit leaned his head in Pac’s chest, still focusing on breathing.

“Fitch?” Pac asked after a few moments of comforting silence, rubbing circles into his back.

“Y-Yeah?”

“Are you comfortable with me taking a look at your wounds and at- at whatever is happening on your shoulder?”

Fit took a moment before nodding and letting go of Pac to try to get his tattered shirt off, but with his wounds and missing a functioning arm, he gave up, gazing up at Pac.

“Want me to help?”

“Please.”

Pac smiled, taking the shirt off, minding the wounds as carefully as he could, wincing when he heard Fit let out a painful grunt.

“Sorry.” He muttered.

“It- It’s fine.”

Finally, the shirt was off and Pac folded it after taking a good look at the damage.

“I think I can sew these holes back up. Do you mind?”

“Of course not, feel free.”

Pac smiled and folded the shirt, putting it on top of his

He turned to Fit, who was inspecting the mess on his shoulder.

“I thought I was seeing things. Are those really-”

“Roses? Yeah.” Fit sighed and watched as Pac delicately touched the petals.

“I’ve- I’ve never seen something like this. When did it start?”

“You know, I- I had no concept of time where I was. I’m still not sure how long I’ve been gone.”

“A little bit over three weeks.” Pac stated, seeing the way Fit’s whole body went still.

“Goddess. What a cluster fuck- I- I’m sorry Pac. You must have been worried to death.”

“Hey, no apologies. I-I don’t know what happened that made you be gone, but it clearly wasn’t your fault. Nothing you say will change that.” Pac again held the side of Fit’s face in his hand, “I-I won’t lie, I was worried. I started to lose hope that you were coming back. That whatever took you, wouldn’t want you to be back.” Pac’s eyes seemed to get more watery, “but I’m glad I was wrong. I’m glad you managed to come back home.”

Fit sighed, breathing shakily again as Pac leaned their foreheads together.

He felt a sting on his shoulder and drew back wincing, looking down at whatever was happening, expecting to see it worsen.

His eyes widened when he saw that a few thorns that were digging into his skin previously had retracted and red petals were falling on his lap.

“What the fuck?”

Pac gazed at what had caught his attention.

“Que-” his eyes blinked a few times, flicking between it and Fit.

The brand-new confusion lasted a moment before Pac’s eyes caught something behind Fit from the angle.

“Fit, can I take a look at your back?”

“Yeah, of course, of course.” He agreed, swinging his legs on the bed and turning away.

Pac was silent and it made Fit nervous.

“Oh. Oh.”

He felt Pac’s calloused and yet delicate touch against his back just as he gulped, worrying about taking over his thoughts.

“W-What is it?”

“It’s- It’s weird. All the other roses are red, but there are two here in the back that are smaller and they’re yellow and white. And I…” he trailed off, hands still tracing patterns on Fit’s back, sending shivers down his spine.

Fit didn’t know what to think. Did the color really make a difference? Sure, they had been blood red since the first one but that couldn’t mean anything else for sure.

“What?” He urged Pac to continue.

“I- I don’t know. I might be imagining stuff.” He sighed and just as Fit opened his mouth to ask more, the Brazilian spoke first “Do you- Do you have any clue of what might be causing it?”

Fit could sense a bit of hesitation in Pac’s tone now, but he didn’t push it.

“Well, uh,” he cleared his throat, “my boss,” he felt Pac tense at the mention, “said something about it when they saw me. It was something along the lines of ‘missing someone is a disease worse than any other’.” Fit carefully removed the ‘loved’ part. He hadn’t had the time to properly think of what it entailed.

“I see.” Pac whispered in response, “So it was them who got you?” Pac’s voice dropped to an almost threatening aura that made Fit’s stomach lurch.

“Y-Yeah. Why- Why do you ask?”

Pac was silent and Fit hesitantly turned his head to stare at him.

The Brazilian’s eyes were glassy, his lips drawn in a tight line against the other, brows furrowed in the way Fit always found adorable.

“I-” Pac took a deep breath, “I think I might know what’s the source of what’s happening with you.” He turned away, hands on the supplies on the table as Fit’s eyes widened.

“Wait- who?”

Pac was silent again.

“When- When you were gone, I planted roses in the garden. Because they reminded me of you.” Fit drew a sharp breath, feeling a sting in his eyes but holding back, “For some reason they kept dying! I-I didn’t know what I was doing wrong, you know- I-I even borrowed a guide on growing flowers from Philza to know what I was doing wrong but th-they just kept dying and I- I started becoming paranoid. Did it mean something that the roses that I planted for you kept dying? Did it mean that you-”

He didn’t finish the sentence, eyes glistening as he rubbed his thumb pad against them.

“S-So I planted a few for Ramón and Richas in their favorite colors. Yellow and white. And just before I went to bed tonight, I noticed they were dying and I didn’t understand but now…”

Fit was silent, looking expectantly at Pac.

“I-” A single tear escaped his eye before more and more.

Fit’s eyes widened as he turned to face Pac completely, using his thumb to wipe away the tears while he held his cheek, returning the gesture Pac made earlier.

He whispered reassurances to Pac, hoping to help him calm down, thumb tracing the scar that graced under his eye as delicately as he could.

Fit wasn’t stupid, after what Pac explained, he came to the same conclusion as him.

“I’m sorry,” He expressed between tears, “I’m sorry that I did this to you- I- I just missed you so much-”

“Pac, it’s okay. You didn’t know. I could never blame you for something like this. We both had no idea this would happen.”

Pac kept crying for another minute or so, and Fit held him as much as he could with only one hand available.

When he finally seemed to calm down, he brought his hand to hold Fit’s, eyes shining with something more than adoration, a small smile adorning his lips. It made Fit’s heart race and he cleared his throat.

“We- We should, you know, uh do something about it.”

Pac blinked a few times before his smile disappeared and a red shade took shelter in his cheeks. Fit could feel the skin under his touch warm.

“Oh! Sim, sim- sorry, yes, yes!” He pulled back and turned to the supplies he brought. “First things first, I think we need to remove the roses and the thorns.”

“You don’t think they’ll grow again?”

“You’re here now. I don’t need those anymore.”

Fit was still as Pac put on the gardening gloves he brought and grabbed a healing potion.

“You drink this if the pain is too much, okay?” Fit nodded, body relaxing.

The pain was lesser this time, he didn’t understand why. He drank a few swings of the potion when Pac started to pull out the stem and thorns in his pectoral. He could hear Pac whispering small apologies at him.

He finished the bottle when Pac started removing the impromptu bandages near his ribs and cleaning his wounds to make sure they wouldn’t get infected. Finally, he relaxed into the touch when Pac started to wrap his bandages with utmost care.

“Okay. It should be done. Can you breathe in and out for me? I just need to see if the bandages are too tight.”

Fit nodded and closed his eyes, breathing in and out a few times. He felt pain return briefly by the movement but didn’t feel uncomfortable.

He opened his eyes to see Pac averting his eyes, a blush on his face, and fidgeting with some supplies, “It-It- it should be good, yeah!” He stated hurriedly, still not looking at Fit, who was confused as he raised an eyebrow at him.

Then it clicked why Pac had been embarrassed and Fit snorted, puffing his chest out just as Pac side-eyed him.

“What- Don’t laugh!” Pac squeaked, a blush reaching his ears. That made Fit start laughing for real, pulling Pac close to him as he pouted.

“It’s- it’s fine, Pac!” He replied between laughs, “You know, you can look. You’re the only one on this island who can, in fact.” He smirked and Pac hid his face in his hands.

“Fiiitt…” came his muffled voice and Fit laughed harder, arm coming to hold him by the waist.

“What? It’s true! Besides…” he cleared his throat when he saw Pac open his fingers so he could view him, “You’re strong too. Fierce.” His eyes not so subtly wander his boyfriend’s arms, “Have you been working out while I was gone?”

Pac let out a sound that Fit couldn’t describe and Fit laughed more, feeling his ribs hurt for more than one reason.

“I-” Pac said, face still red, “K-Kinda? I managed to get this really powerful bow and have been training a lot with it, y-you know?”

“I can’t wait to see it- I mean-” it was Fit’s turn to feel his face flush, “O-Only if you want to, you know! I-I-I-I don’t want to pressure you or something-”

He halted his rambling by feeling Pac wrap his arms around his neck.

He smiled, eyes softening, “Of course you can. I didn’t become an archer just to keep it to myself.”

Fit smiled up at him, still embarrassed. They kept looking at each other, basking in the warmth and adoration.

Then Pac blinked, thoughts seemingly wandering.

“Are you hungry?” He asked, “You’ve been gone for two weeks, I can make you something.”

Fit blinked. He completely forgot about it, but as soon as Pac mentioned food, his brain made him remember that he had spent three weeks starving in a ravine.

“Actually, yeah. I would accept some food.”

“Perfect!” He let go of Fit, “I’ll get you something. Meanwhile,” he turned to a towel he had brought with the supplies and offered it to Fit. He grabbed it, noticing it was a bit damp, “Your face is kinda dirty. If you want to clean it, go ahead.”

Fit felt his eyes widen as he realized that he had been flirting and hugging Pac while he hadn’t had a proper bath in 2 weeks. There’s only so much small ponds inside ravines can do for hygiene.

“Uh- Yeah. Thanks, I’ll… I’ll do that.”

Pac smiled, squeezing his hand before leaving, once again leaving the door open.

Fit got up, hand still gripping the towel, and left to find the bathroom. He needed a mirror urgently.

He finally found it, turning on the lights and being surprised by seeing a familiar robe standing near the door. He chuckled to himself before noticing a slightly smaller dark blue one next to it and his heart felt like it grew twice in size.

He tore the gaze away, turning to the mirror above the sink and he drew a sharp breath intake.

It was his first time seeing his reflection on something. He could see the dried blood on the side of his neck, he had bruises that were almost done healing in his skin from the fall and also eye bags. He additionally noticed his face was thinner, probably a symptom of the starvation he endured, and that he needed to shave, stubble framing his jaw.

He cleaned the dirt off his face, putting the towel aside, setting a reminder in his brain to wash it when he wasn’t as tired.

He turned around to get back to the bed but stopped in his tracks, eyes widening.

Sitting in the spot he sat earlier, was another one of Pac’s cats. Except it wasn’t alone this time.

The cat carried a kitten in its mouth. It was so small it could probably fit in his hand. Both cats had very similar furs and light cream fur, and only the older ones had orange points in them.

The kitten was set on the duvet before the older one started grooming the baby while it meows loudly like a squeaky toy.

Fit felt rooted in the spot. What should he do? Leave? Move the cats? Call Pac?

He didn’t have time to dwell on it, his boyfriend walked in, spotting the scene between the pets in his bed and turning to look for Fit, eyes wide.

He had a small plate, with cooked vegetables on it and shredded chicken. In his other hand a cup of water.

Fit watched as his confused smile disappeared, being replaced by an amused one, “Hey! You’ve met the new addition to the house.”

Fit was stunned for a second before his brain decided to work.

“So- this is a new cat?”

“Yes! Come here!” He gestured with his head and shoulder for Fit to approach.

Pac put down the plate and cup on the bedside before sitting in bed and turning to the older cat, scratching under its chin. The cat stopped the grooming, much to the apparent pleasure of the kitten who finally stopped his meowing.

Finally, he walked towards Pac, sitting by his side that wasn’t occupied by the cats.

“While you were gone, Coquinho gave birth to this baby here. I was very surprised.” He chuckled.

“Coquinho is a female?” Fit asked, surprised.

“Yeah! I didn’t know it either until she gave birth. There was only one kitten, so the pregnancy was very hidden until the last moment.”

“W-Who’s the dad?”

“By the way, the cats have been acting since then, I have my suspicions on Xereta. But I could be wrong.” He shrugged and grabbed the kitten in his hands, “Do you wanna hold him?”

“I- I don’t know- I don’t want to hurt it…”

“It’s okay, I’ll help you. But don’t feel pressured! I’m just, you know, throwing ideas.”

“If you help me…” Pac smiled at his words and put the kitten in Fit’s lap. It started wiggling around and Fit was severely scared of accidentally hurting it.

“Here, pet him like this,” Pac rubbed his index and rubbed under the cheek lightly.

Fit took over once Pac drew away and he was surprised by the kitten nuzzling into the touch.

“There you go! Good job, Nenê already likes you.” Pac smiled brightly, which made Fit’s heart skip a few beats.

“Nenê?”

“Yeah, that’s his name. It means baby.”

“Oh, no, I know that.” He smiled awkwardly, “I remember when you called me and Ramón that.” He chuckled and watched Pac stutter, letting out a string of sounds that apparently were attempts at words, “It’s fine, Pac! I thought it was cute. Ramón did too.” He sighed sadly, chest suddenly getting tight, “Is- Is he okay?”

“Ramón?” Fit nodded, “He and the other kids have all been sleeping for weeks like they’re hibernating. It’s been really quiet on the island. Kinda reminds me of the time they ran away.”

“At least they’re with us and not like, on an island we had no idea existed, you know?”

“That’s true.” Pac watched as Coquinho jumped across his lap and grabbed her child in the mouth before walking away, “I guess Nenê time is over.”

They both chuckled.

“Oh!” Pac gasped, “Your food!” He grabbed the plate and handed it to Fit, “I wanted to do something light and easy to digest since your stomach will need to readjust to eating food again. Oh, drink water so you don’t dehydrate.”

“You’re too good to me, Pac.” Fit smiled, “Thank you.”

“No worries, I’m just glad to be able to help you, you know?”

Fit smiled and started eating. Which proved to be a little difficult with only one hand but Pac always seemed to know when he was struggling and when he needed help. Not in a pity kind of way that he was received by many Islanders when he struggled with his prosthetic. Pac never treated Fit with pity, if he helped someone, Fit knew it came from his good and amazing heart, always thinking of the others, sometimes before himself.

Pac was one of the few people on the island who understood his physical disability struggles and Fit appreciated he had someone who he could share meaningful moments like these with.

Once Fit finished his meal, he put the fork down and handed it to Pac, who got up and put it on top of a small round table in a corner.

“I’ll clean it up in the morning.” He turned to Fit with a soft look, “Hey. Do you want to see them?”

“Who?”

“Ramón and Richas. They’re staying in the room next door, I was just wondering if you-”

“Yeah.” Fit answered without missing a beat.

Pac nodded and pulled Fit to his feet.

They silently walked towards the closed door and Fit noticed a carving on the door ‘R & R’. He smiled and followed Pac as he pushed the door open.

Fit’s heart squeezed seeing Ramón, deep asleep, arms hugging his Sniffer plushie tight, face smooshed against the soft fabric.

Another bed was against the parallel wall, with Richarlyson sleeping like a starfish, his mooshroom hat hanging on one of the bedposts.

Fit walked towards Ramon, brushing away the messy brown curls. His face scrunched for a second before leaning into the familiar touch.

“ Te extrañé tanto, mi huevito. ” Fit whispered, feeling the sting behind his eyes. He tried to move his other hand to wipe the feeling of the tears away but forgot he didn’t have it, so he just held it in, hoping it would be enough.

Then, a small grunt came from Richas’s bed and Fit turned to see his little arms reaching for something, probably the mooshroom plushie (Letícia, if he recalled correctly), that had fallen to the floor.

Noticing this, Fit walked towards it, kneeling to grab the plushie and put it back in Richarlyson’s arms, who immediately moved to hold it close and just like his brother, hid his face against the soft material.

Fit chuckled and pulled the covers to Richas’ shoulders so he wouldn’t be cold.

He looked back at Pac who was gazing at him, arms crossed against his chest.

And Fit didn’t know how to describe that look. He was leaning against the door frame, eyes hooded, cheeks red, and a smile on his face. But there was something more on it that fit couldn’t describe.

Something more than the looks they had been sharing since their romantic relationship started. It was more than adoration, more than comfort, more than care, more than any of those feelings, and yet, they were there all the same. Fit felt his heart skip a few beats and his own face was warm now.

It made Fit want to hold Pac forever, capture that look, and eternalize so he could always enjoy it and feel these things that were still so confusing to him despite it having been months since he had apparently figured out his feelings.

There was still much to figure out. And months ago, that would scare him. But now, standing in the bedroom of their sons and focusing on Pac, it made him eager to discover.

Fit tore the gaze away, getting up from the floor and walking towards Pac, who was still smiling at him.

“We should probably get some sleep like the two of them.” Fit whispered, just loud enough for Pac to hear, who in turn nodded, stepping out of the way so Fit could walk through.

Fit and Pac stepped back into the room and Pac turned to turn off the lights he had previously turned on. He kept watching as Pac made himself comfortable in bed, who in turn looked expectantly at Fit.

“Can you close the door?” Pac asked, taking off his prosthetic and placing it on the floor. Fit complied with his request because, of course, he would. He felt out of place, not knowing what to do now, so he took and ran with whatever Pac said.

Then he used one of his hands to motion Fit to come closer and Fit obeyed, again, not sure of what to do.

He sat against the headboard next to Pac and glanced at him, waiting for the next surprise that would leave Fit breathless in more ways than one.

But defying the odds, Pac just turned to gaze at him, a soft smile but a curious look in his eyes.

Fit cleared his throat. He probably should leave. He was tired. He needed to sleep in a proper bed.

He tore the gaze away and sat on the edge of the bed but before he could get up, he felt strong arms wrapping around his waist and a chin resting on his non-bandaged shoulder.

“Pac…?”

“Wh-Where are you going?” His voice was a bit shaky and Fit swallowed a lump in his throat. Had he done something?

“I’m- I’m going home.”

“Why?”

“I-I don’t want to bother you, you know? You already did so much for me. I don’t want to impose.”

Pac was silent for several moments but still holding him tight.

“Don’t go.” He whispered finally, “I- What- What if your boss comes and takes you again? I- I can’t let it happen.”

“ Oh. ” Fit let out, the puzzle pieces finally clicking in place. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

He felt Pac’s grip loosen, “Obrigado.” He whispered, too close to Fit’s ear, making him shiver.

His boyfriend let go of him, laying back under the covers and Fit did the same.

For a moment he just laid there, staring up at the ceiling. It was- It was awkward, he couldn’t deny it. He never shared a bed with anyone other than the nights Ramón would appear at his door and say he had a nightmare. Then Fit would let Ramón sleep beside him.

But not- not with someone like Pac. Because he never had someone like Pac. It was new, it was different, it was frankly scary.

His thoughts were interrupted by Pac’s hand on his chest and he turned his head to see Pac’s dark eyes staring at him.

“Is this okay?” He asked and Fit smiled, adjusting so he could hold Pac closer.

His heart skipped a few beats when Pac nuzzled against his neck, feeling his face heat up for what felt like the 10th time tonight.

Pac giggled against his skin, “Did you know when you get embarrassed, your neck gets all red too?”

Fit stuttered several unknown sounds and Pac laughed harder.

“You’re killing me, you know?” was what he ended up with.

“Pretty sure I saved your life!” Pac lifted his head and supported his body on his elbow so he could properly look at Fit’s face, a pout in his lips but a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Right, right. What would I do without you?” he asked as a joke but there was a layer of vulnerability there, as it did as usual. Fit was still learning how to let his feelings known, to realize it is okay to feel this level of trust with someone and not expect it to be ripped away by betrayal.

He stopped his brain rambling to gaze at Pac, whose previous look disappeared and he seemed to be deep in thought but still staring at Fit.

“Something on your mind?” Fit smiled, tightening his grip around Pac.

A beat passed before Pac noticed he was being asked something.

“Oh! Uhm- I wanted to ask you something. I’ve been wondering about it since you left. But we can save it for later, it’s-”

“I’m here, I don’t mind answering your question.”

Pac blinked a few times, mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find the words and Fit wondered if Pac knew he mouthed the words he wanted to say when doing that.

“It’s- It’s about your letter. That you left me before going away.”

“Yeah?”

“You mentioned that- you had some things to say to me. Good things.”

Oh.

“I was just wondering if- if you want to tell me now that you’re back.”

Fit felt anxiety fill his entire chest, heart rate increased.

He cursed his past self.

“You- You don’t need to tell me now!” Pac ran ahead to reassure him, “Or- Or ever! I just…” he trailed off, averting his gaze.

Fit felt like he was going to be sick. He thought he’d have more time to get ready. And to his credit, he has. Pac just gave him all the time in the world. But at the same time…

What he had learned while on that island seemed to get a grip on him.

Madagio had lost everyone that they held close because of the Federation. What if that happened to them before he could find the courage to say it ?

He took a deep breath, hoping to calm his heart rate.

“I- I can tell you. But you have to promise to let me finish before you say anything.”

Pac seemed concerned for a moment but he just nodded.

“I- When I was alone for these weeks, it gave me a lot of thinking time. My boss never came to say anything and it just made me think more and more. I can’t say all the things that I thought because even I don’t remember all of them. But I want to tell you one, that frankly scared me more than anything in that situation.”

He looked at Pac, who was staring back at him, clearly wanting to say something and comfort him but respecting what Fit had asked him to. He continued, tearing the gaze away.

“I- I was afraid, Pac.” And wasn’t that an already loaded statement? Fit had seen wars, death, crimes, and tragedy during his time in 2b2t. He was a historian, a mercenary. He counted corpses, and burning buildings, and sometimes, those had been caused by himself. Yet he was afraid. Afraid of something himself from years ago would ever consider to be an issue, “I was afraid that you’d forget me. I was afraid that if I never got back, you’d move on. And I wouldn’t blame you. You’re not supposed to wait for me forever. I thought about one day finally getting home and you wouldn’t recognize me. Or if you did, you’d tell me that I took too long.”

Fit felt Pac stiffen but continued in silence.

“I learned… some pretty dark things while I was there. And it made me even more afraid of losing you. Of losing my family. So, now that I’m here, I don’t want to waste more time beating around the bush and leaving things for tomorrow because I- I frankly don’t know if there will be a tomorrow for us. So I-” his throat closed around nothing and he felt adrenaline rush through his veins.

If he was being honest to himself, Pac would say it back. If not, he would acknowledge it as something positive. But still, it didn’t make him feel less nervous. It was a certain level of vulnerability, of giving your heart on a silver platter to someone, of giving them a knife and bearing your throat. And Fit would do both of these things for Pac without a second thought. But those were actions, he wasn’t good with words.

“I- Fuck this is hard, I’m sorry.” He chuckled nervously. Pac kept quiet but rubbed his thumb soothingly against his chest and it helped him soothe his nerves slightly. “I want to say that-” he took a deep breath.

“I. Love you.” He confessed it, feeling his whole chest hurt.

As soon as the words left his mouth, it was silent in the bedroom.

“Are you finished?” Pac asked, his voice no more than a whisper and Fit still didn’t dare to look at him, he just nodded, “Okay.”

Fit felt like his whole body was going to explode with how much he was shaking. Then Pac’s hand left the spot in his chest and came to cup his jaw, making them both lock gazes.

Fit felt stuck in place, trapped between a soft bed and the soft look his boyfriend was giving him.

“Te amo também.” Pac breathed out and Fit felt like crying.

The tightness in his chest was replaced by butterflies and he felt like he was going to throw them up.

“You do?” He asked as if he could’ve confused three words, that by now, he should know exactly what they mean. Pac smiled, nuzzling his nose against Fit’s in an affectionate gesture.

“With all my heart.”

And yep, Fit was crying. He moved to try to wipe the tears away but forgot he was holding Pac so he just let them out.

Pac soothed him with careful whispers, using his thumb to wipe them away.

“I’m- I’m sorry I shouldn’t be crying-”

“It’s okay. I know this is a lot for you.”

They stayed there, under the warm dim light of the bedside lamp and the storm outside and their orchestra.

“Can- Can you say it again?” Fit felt stupid asking, but fuck it. He had just given his heart to Pac.

“Te amo, Fit. I love you. You’re in my heart.”

“And you’re in mine.” He replied back.

They stayed like this, basking in the afterglow of their confessions.

Then Pac’s thumb and index finger came to hold Fit by the chin, touch ghosting his lips. He couldn’t deny the motion that he saw Pac doing, eyes flicking to his lips and back to his eyes.

“Fit, can I-”

“Yes.” He replied with no hesitation, earning a giggle from Pac.

“What if I was asking if I could pull out a sword and stab it through your chest?”

“I had a good run. I did what I wanted to. I think it’s time to let the Gods claim me.”

Pac laughed, lightly hitting on the shoulder, minding the bandages, eyes hooded with a soft smile.

It was a joke in the end, but it was coming directly from his beating heart. How could he not say he had fulfilled his purpose in life when he had the most gorgeous man to exist reciprocating his feelings?

Before he could stop himself, he leaned in and kissed the corner of Pac’s mouth, lasting for one or two seconds. Pac froze and Fit smiled nervously, hoping he hadn’t read the cues wrong.

“Was that what you were asking for?”

“Uh- Actually…” Fit’s heart stopped in his chest for a moment, feeling his whole body go cold.

He was about to apologize and possibly leave but was interrupted by Pac kissing him. On his lips. Fit’s entire brain blue screened. His lips were chapped yet soft just like Fit had imagined.

It couldn’t have lasted more than 5 seconds and when Pac pulled back, he laughed at Fit’s face and Fit started laughing along with him.

“Desculpa- Sorry, sorry- It’s just- Your face was too funny!” He kept laughing, burying his face in his boyfriend’s neck and Fit couldn’t stop either, not even when his lungs were aching.

Eventually, their laughter died down and they were left breathless, still smiling.

“I think I definitely broke another rib now.” Fit joked, taking deep breaths.

He opened his eyes and found Pac staring at him, that same look he had given him earlier in their sons’ bedroom. It was no surprise that Fit finally leaned in and kissed him on the lips. Pac responded eagerly to it, increasing the pressure.

Scratch what Fit thought earlier, nothing he could ever imagine could compare to the actual feeling of having Pac kiss him. Nothing could ever prepare him for the feeling of their noses bumping, the feeling of his lashes against his skin.

The butterflies in his stomach doubled as Pac changed the angle and his hands came up to hold his face firmly, calluses on his thumbs pressing against his skin in a way that made Fit’s entire body shiver.

It felt like another limb had been taken from him when Pac pulled back just an inch so they could breathe.

He opened his eyes to see Pac’s eyes closed and if his fingers weren’t still making motions on his skin, he would think that he had fallen asleep.

Eventually, those black irises came back into view and Pac smiled.

“Oi.”

“Oiii.” Fit greeted back before they started giggling again like two teenagers, sharing loving touches and small kisses between laughs.

Fit took the opportunity and took Pac’s hand between his, bringing his knuckles to his lips, feeling the metal of the promise ring against his lips like an anchor.

They had promised each other’s souls the day they exchanged the rings that Ramón had made for them. A promise ring, something from Brazilian culture that Pac had mentioned in passing weeks before they even arrived at this part of the island, and yet, Ramón had gone out of his way to make them rings and enchant them with luck so they wouldn’t have a reason to take it off.

Fit didn’t need a single reason to keep using his.

He kissed Pac’s fingers again, eyes fluttering, long lashes brushing against the skin.

“Te amo.” Pac whispered when Fit looked up, face flushed from so many different reasons by now that Fit wasn’t sure if he could count them. Fit was sure he wasn’t that different.

“I love you.” He whispered it back, kissing Pac softly for a moment before burying his face in his neck, breathing in, and laying a kiss on the skin that made Pac shiver and move his head to give Fit more access which he took as a challenge, kissing and pressing his lips to it.

How was he supposed to be apart from his boyfriend now that he had experienced first-hand how kissing him felt? All his brain was doing was screaming for him to keep kissing, to worship every patch of tanned and scarred skin he could find.

“Fit-” Pac called his name and he stopped, making a questioning sound, “It- It’s tickling me. Your beard-”

He pulled back and Pac’s neck was red and it didn’t seem from the blushing.

“Oh. Sorry- I- I’ll shave, don’t worry-”

“Nonono!” Pac was quick, eyes pleading and a pout, “I- I like it. Y-You look handsome, you know! Just wanted to tell you.”

Fit blinked a few times in surprise, making Pac groan and bury his face in his hands.

“Merda, sorry- I ruined the moment, I’m sorry-”

“No! It- It’s fine! You just caught me off guard, you know?” He explained and Pac glanced up from his hands, an unsure look still in his eyes, “But- uh- thank you. I’ll- I’ll take that into account.”

Fit’s nervous laugh was interrupted by Pac leaning forward and kissing him again, this time with more intensity and Fit eagerly replied to it with the same amount.

When they finally pulled away, he definitely did not chase Pac’s lips like a dog chasing a bone which earned a small laugh from his boyfriend. Definitely not.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I think we both need some proper sleep.” Pac said, kissing his nose.

“Noo, whaat? I feel- I feel so energized! I don’t need sleep, let’s just- you know, stay awake and- keep talking and like, kissing, I-I don’t mind.”

Pac smiled, eyes shining but a bit droopy nonetheless, “You out of the both of us need sleep. And you won’t convince me to keep you awake by kissing so don’t even try.”

“But-”

“No buts.” His eyebrows drew together, a finger against Fit’s lips, “I need to wake up early tomorrow too.” Fit pouted, still being silenced, “We can keep doing this in the morning.”

That , he could get behind, “Finee, I guess we’ll sleep.”

“Good job, big boy.” Fit choked on air at the sudden nickname, arm unwinding around Pac’s body so he could grasp his neck and try to regain some air.

Pac took it as an opportunity to turn off the bedside lamp, finally casting both of them in complete darkness besides the light coming from the garden outside the window and the occasional lightning strike far away. Pac turned back to Fit who had sat up, face still red.

“Sorry, was that too much?” He giggled, putting a comforting hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Just- caught me off-guard.”

“As I always do.” He winked, pushing Fit to lay back down, who followed the lead without a second thought. While still hovering over Fit, he laid a slightly long kiss on his lips.

“Your goodnight kiss.” He said, laying sideways, hand on top of the American’s chest and burying his face in his neck.

Fit kissed the top of his head, moving to hold Pac again, “Good night, Pac. Sleep well” He whispered and felt him smile against the skin of his neck.

“Boa noite, Fit.”

And for the first time in a long time, he fell asleep with no worries.