Work Text:
Another evening had fallen on the Citadel. The cacophony of clanking metal and hiss of welding torches dampened, bringing a new leisurely atmosphere to the fortress. The routine scrap and repair work had finished, daily training sessions complete, and now the army of adolescents milled about on their own time. Some went off in large groups to partake in juvenile entertainment, such as doing donuts in the desert or setting things (and each other) on fire. Others stuck to their war partner, the one they bonded to for the rest of their earthly life, in search of someplace quiet to unwind alone together.
Nux and Slit ambled out of the common area into the deeper reaches of the tower. They had just eaten their nightly rations. Or tried. Nux couldn’t finish his portion, which resulted in a lot of heckling by his lancer. He wanted badly to finish his helping and shut Slit up, but every bite just made him nauseated. Something seemed off about the meal, though the other boys scarfed theirs down without complaint. Must be the sickness.
“What’d’ya wanna do tonight, then? Drive out to the cliffs with the lads? Fire off some big-bangs?” Slit asked.
“I dunno. I don’t feel too keen. Tired.”
“You’ve been saying that every night.” Slit groaned in frustration.
“Well I don’t, alright?” Nux snapped back.
He'd been going through one of his on-and-off fever spells, and was still waiting on a new blood bag. As a result Nux just wanted something low-key, for once. No adrenaline, no explosions. Just a way to relax.
Slit stopped dead, distracted, an animal on the alert.
“Wuzzat?”
Nux halted and listened too.
Someone or something was making noises, like wounded prey. Slit locked eyes with Nux and gestured towards the sound with his head.
They peeked around the bend in the cavern and saw a War Boy hunkered down by some oil drums. His head was against his knees and he was quivering violently.
"Z'at all?" Slit muttered, disappointed the culprit wasn't something more thrilling.
Nux approached the trembling heap, eliciting an annoyed sigh from Slit.
“You alright?” Nux asked. The boy didn’t respond.
“Leave ‘im.” Slit urged.
Nux ignored him and got closer. “Why’re you crying?”
“He’s dead.” The boy croaked.
“What? Who?” Nux inquired, kneeling down.
The War Boy raised his head to meet Nux’s gaze. He was much older than Nux, but had the demeanor of a distressed child. His black eye paint was streaming down his cheeks.
“My lancer.” He replied. "My mate."
“He was witnessed?” Nux asked tentatively.
“N-No.”
Nux’s throat dried up like the sun-beaten plains.
“He died soft...” The War Boy sputtered.
Nux felt a primal dread twisting his already queasy stomach into knots.
“... so I’ll never see him again!” The boy wailed and then collapsed into racking sobs.
“Stop blubbering, like a new-sprung.” Slit scolded. “Be a man.”
“Slit don’t be cruel.” Nux hushed anxiously.
“Look at him, though. Pathetic sook.” Slit sneered. “The Immortan would spit on you.”
“That’s enough, innit? You’ve said your piec--”
“You think I’ll cry like that when Nux dies soft?” Slit continued jeering at the boy.
Nux felt winded, like he just got punched in the gut. He was absolutely shell-shocked.
“Don’t say that.” Nux said hoarsely, trying to find the air. “I’m not--”
“What?” Slit turned back to Nux. “C’mon now, you can't pretend like--”
Nux felt tears welling. “How could you--.”
“Oh for--” Slit rolled his eyes. “Don’t you start too--”
“Sod off!” Nux shouted, shakily getting to his feet.
“Don’t you talk that way to me, I outrank you.” Slit seethed.
Nux's core was swirling with both fear and fury. “You’re a damned toss--”
Slit swung at him. Nux dodged but lost his balance, falling hard to the ground. The once bawling War Boy clambered up and bolted like a panicked animal into the shadowed depths.
“Bugg--aghhhh.” Nux moaned. Both the pain and his sickness started reverberating throughout his entire body. His vision pulsed with every pang. He felt as though he might pass out.
“I’d beat the bleedin’ life you have left outta you, if you weren’t so pitiful.” Slit bellowed. “Soft is what you are.”
Nux wheezed every curse word he knew against the dusty cavern floor. His eyes stung from the tears and the sand.
Slit stood over him, breathing heavily like a beast. Nux had no idea what might happen next. Would he spit on him? Stamp him? It seemed like Slit was trying to decide as well.
Slit made another feral noise, both threatening and embittered, kicking more dirt over Nux, before stomping down the corridor.
Nux lay there frozen for a few moments, half humiliated, half devastated. Slit was such a jackass. Why did the other boys get war partners who supported each other, living and breathing as one entity? Boys who wept for their brother and made vows to meet again in the next life, never wanting to sever their earthly bond? Why couldn’t he have that?
It didn’t start off bad; at the time of their union they’d been inseparable. Nux couldn't have fathomed his childhood friend would become the brute he was now. And it wasn’t like he could simply go find someone else. That was against the War Boy code. Slit would have to die first, and it was looking more and more like Nux’s wasting body would give out before that ever happened.
He heard footsteps and banter echoing up the passage; more boys. Nux finally picked himself up off the floor to avoid further shame. He wiped the grit from his skin and sulked away.
Nux slowly made his way into his bunk room. Moonlight trickled in over the hammocks hung from the ceiling. It was hushed and nearly empty, since it wasn’t quite time to turn in. A few War Boys were there lounging, chatting quietly. They didn’t seem to notice Nux, and for once he was glad.
Nux sat on one of the stone slabs, away from the other boys. He felt even more exhausted than before. Itchy all over and hot, though he knew it was a cool night. He tried to take deep breaths, but his lungs were frustratingly shallow. The terror of succumbing to his illness flooded back to him. He closed his eyes tight, attempting to swallow the sobs, but they burst forth like strained whimpers.
“Nux?”
He jumped and opened his eyes. Three young War Pups were eyeing him inquisitively.
“Oh!” Nux composed himself as best he could. “H-Hey!”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothin’.” He wiped his tears. “Nothing you pups need to worry about.”
“Why were you making that noise?”
“Your eyes are leaking.”
“Are you sick?”
Nux shook his head. “I’m fine, I just... I got dust in my lungs.”
“I hate that.” A Pup said empathetically. Nux chuckled.
“You right, boys? You need something?”
“No, we were just worried ‘bout you.”
“Oh.” Nux began to calm. “Oh that’s nice.”
“Nice! That’s the word!” A Pup exclaimed.
“What?” Nux asked.
“We were trying to remember what to call what you are to us.”
“It’s called ‘nice’!” The smallest one cheered.
“Why do you treat us ‘nice’?” Another inquired.
Nux scratched his neck. “Huh? Wha’d’ya mean?”
“You play games with us.”
“I like games.” Nux shrugged.
“You don’t get cross and yell at us.”
Nux raised a brow. “Well it’s not very fun being yelled at, is it?”
“Slit yells at us.”
Nux felt the anger again, but held it down. “Slit’s a snakey old geezer.”
The War Pups giggled, making Nux’s broken heart feel whole again. These were the people he could count on. Maybe no one else cared for him, but the kids sure did.
“Anyway, I was a pup just like you once.” Nux said.
“You were?”
Nux nodded.
“So that means I’m gonna grow up to be big and strong like you!” One said excitedly.
“More or less.” Nux answered, humbly.
“I wanna be big and strong like Nux!”
“Yeah!” Another pup agreed. Nux felt himself blushing at the sentiments, even if they were just from small children.
“And I'm gonna witness you! Don't die til I can, OK?”
“A-Alright..." Nux replied awkwardly.
“No, you gotta wait for me too!”
“I can’t make any promises.” Nux waved his hands.
“Me too!” The youngest shouted, not listening.
Nux chuckled, though feeling a bittersweet ache in his heart. He remembered when the black-thumb who was his first mentor had been recruited into the War Boy ranks. Ganz was his name. He made a very young Nux and Slit vow they’d get into Valhalla, so they could all see each other again.
‘Tell me the stories of all your conquests. Everything you accomplished. Make me proud.’
“Nux, look.” A pup beckoned, breaking Nux from his thoughts. “Nux, you’re not looking.”
“Sorry, what?” Nux turned his attention back to the boy.
The child made a silly distorted face and growled.
Nux laughed politely. “Cripes, that’s frightful.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, you should make that face in battle.” Nux smiled fondly.
“Wait I can make--”
The War Pups suddenly gasped and scattered into the wind, as if they’d seen a ghost. Nux looked around bewilderedly, and then noticed the shadow looming next him.
“Ugh... Hey.” The voice ‘greeted’ flatly.
Nux didn’t even have to look; It was Slit.
Slit sighed irately as he sat down, then muttered: “Sorry.”
Nux said nothing, keeping his gaze averted. He still felt like his lancer had ground his boot-heel into Nux’s soul.
“You know how I get, mate. I hate weaklings.” Slit glowered. “Seeing warriors crying like babies, it makes my blood boil, y’know?”
Nux continued to stare at the ground, understanding but not being able to share the attitude.
“Hey. Agh... look.” Slit said, tone much softer than usual. “You’re not gonna die here, not if I’m around.”
Nux finally looked at him curiously.
“I’m gonna help you get to Valhalla. 'Cos you’re my stupid little brother.” Slit smirked. “And we made a promise, right? I ain’t gonna disappoint ol’ Ganz.”
“Yeah. Good ol’ Ganz.” Nux mused.
“You... wanna go up-top and look at the stars? You'n me?”
Nux’s eyes flashed and he grinned. Slit never liked stargazing. He refused to partake; said it was boring. But it was Nux’s favorite.
"I'll carry ya, if needed." Slit offered, in a way that sounded both teasing and earnest.
"I have a little dignity."
Slit gave a barking laugh and clapped him on the back.
Nux hoped it was a sign that just maybe things would get better from here on out.