Chapter Text
Smoke.
That was the first thing he noticed. Before the quickly developing flames. That putrid scent had caught his attention.
He watched as the dark clouds slowly wafted into the air, guiding his gaze down towards a quickly growing flame. It didn’t spread immediately, but it spread quickly. Faster than he'd be able to react to.
He could do nothing as, within minutes, maybe even seconds, the house was engulfed with flames. The wooden walls of the house wouldn't fully burn away, that would take longer– but simply spreading through the place was completely different.
Panic had set in just as fast. He tried to find some opening– A window not yet touched by the flames, a backdoor it had yet to reach, but he had taken too long. He turned to Flamethrower who stood stationary, that empty look in his gaze unchanging.
“Flamethrower!” he choked out, his breath coming out in quick, short gasps.
“Do something!” he cried.
There was no response.
All he smelled was the smoke.
All he saw was Flamethrower's face, the same expression, illuminated by the glow of fire.
He heard something crash.
“Flamethrower!” he pleaded once more.
He still stood there.
He heard his own heart pounding in his ears.
Was that a scream?
No– That was two.
Wait— screams?
“Mom!”
He couldn’t think clearly.
Everything else was a blur. Things he didn't fully remember.
And then it went dark.
Cauldron woke soon after that. He sat up near immediately, the pace of his breathing mirroring the panic of the dream.
He wasn’t surrounded by fire anymore. Instead, the soft—almost too soft—bed within a small room. A small room within a greater, larger set of winding halls and countless rooms and murals depicting ancient scenes or recent ‘heroes.’
The church.
In a way, he didn't know if he preferred this situation over… what kept replaying in his head.
The constant nagging of someone he wasn't sure if they couldn't be considered a friend… actually, the more he thought about it, he didn't know if he could trust anyone in this place. Not just that one person…
Not to mention every threatening smile, every reminder that he was stuck here. There was no other choice now, no turning back. Even if he couldn't stand their harsh stares, those unsettling sermons, the knowledge of what these people do for… business.
Yet at the same time, where else is he supposed to go?
What other place would protect and support him for such a low price? And do their jobs so well…
…
Maybe it's not worth dwelling on those kinds of thoughts.
Cauldron silently lifted himself off the bed, offering a glance towards the small clock on the nightstand. Not that he really paid much mind to it– at least it was an acceptable time to wake up. If not just a few minutes later than he'd normally leave his room.
With that thought in mind, he quickly gathered himself… throwing on whatever uniform that consisted of greens and blues and primarily teal the church had given to him. ‘We need to look unified,’ they said, ‘It's for Father Overseer,’ they said. He didn't understand. He didn’t have to understand. All he had to do was look the part.
He exited the room with little sound, the only sign of his presence being the slight creak of the door. Even then, it was hardly loud enough for anyone besides him to hear.
As Cauldron stepped through the all too long hallways, he wanted to keep his attention on the soft echo of his footsteps against the floor. He didn’t want to look up. Not when his gaze would meet with the countless rows of stained glass, most—if not all—having some sort of creepy eye imagery. The type of thing that gets weirder the more you look at it.
It all just felt so off-putting. As if a reminder that he was constantly being watched. Anxiety-inducing is what it was. He was almost convinced that was the intention behind it.
…
The ‘sanctuary’ itself wasn't much more comforting. The stained glass windows were even more towering than they were in the hallways, harder to avoid. Almost daunting. It didn't make it any better that he had to wait here.
Well, not that it was some requirement from that big scary boss woman he often came across– Scythe, was it? Whatever. She wasn't the reason he stood awkwardly in the corner of the room, like an ant within the house of a human. It was instead the person who had been assigned to protect him. A bodyguard, of sorts. He was technically allowed to do things on his own, even if it was frowned upon. Yet she would never even think of that. Even when, in Scythe's words, she was told ‘you oughta let the kid do some things on his own, no need to act like such a mother hen!’ she remained insistent. Insistent that she stay by Cauldron's side at all times.
Cauldron struggled to place his specific feelings. It was nothing strictly negative nor positive. Something he couldn't form into words– Not without thinking long and hard about it. If someone were to ask him, ‘What's your opinion on Cobalt M. Blaster?’ well, he simply couldn’t tell you.
It seemed that he didn't have much time at all to ponder that, not as a firm hand clasped against his back. He jolted slightly, that startled look stuck on his face as he glanced up to meet her gaze. He wasn’t surprised, not when there was only one person who could have been the culprit, but… it's not exactly fun to be scared like that.
“Cobalt–” he greeted warily.
She grinned. A dangerous, toothy grin.
He smiled back. Forced. Perhaps not just for her, but for himself as well.
“Cauldron,” she returned the greeting in an almost blank tone.
She didn't remove her hand from him, just shifting it to his shoulder instead. A tight grip, unrelenting.
“You're a little late,” she hummed out, her eye not moving off of him.
That sharp, dark eye. The eye that held her intentions. She made no effort to hide her thoughts, that much was clear to Cauldron, but maybe she didn't have to. Despite one eye being covered, her only having one eye to express herself conveys her threatening demeanor far better than two eyes ever could.
In a way, he was… already wrapped around her finger, even if he had full knowledge of it. But what could he do about it? Run away, let her hunt him down akin to a wolf trailing its prey? Let her play with her food?
Cauldron didn’t care if she got what she wanted. If anything, maybe he preferred to satisfy her— it'd keep that dangerous glint out of her eye. Give him a break from walking on eggshells during every interaction.
No, what he was worried about was his own safety.
There was no guarantee that he would make it out alive. Between that goddamn sun beating down on him, or that grating laugh that only told him to run. Run as fast as he could. How could he ever hope to make it out in one piece? That is, should he anger her.
Cauldron had no intention to do that. Of course, that didn't make it any easier appeasing her. Perhaps he had gotten used to that. Learned the way she spoke, the way she thought. It was more manageable than it was in those first days.
“What's on the to-do list today?” Cobalt questioned.
He paused. He hadn't really had time to think of that. Not when he had only woken up mere minutes ago.
His fingers dug into the strap of his bag, awkwardly adjusting it. He intended for it to look more like he was fixing it, as if the strap was uncomfortable against his shoulder. But he knew. He knew there was no use. She could tell. She could always tell.
“...my potions,” he began, “...I need ingredients. For them.” He spoke, words short and quick– Trying to spit it out in as little time as he could.
“Mhmmm.” Cobalt nodded. Her voice always carried that slight suspicion. Even if there was hardly anything to question.
“So… the market,” he stated. “Let's uhm… go there,”
She nodded again. Curt, maybe uncaring.
“Is that all you had in mind?”
In the simplest words, Cauldron felt… awkward. Not really nervous, not fearful, just… awkward. He didn't know what to say. He almost felt as if he had to come up ⁸lwith an answer on the spot.
He remained silent for a few moments, not wanting to meet her harsh gaze that slowly grew more impatient.
“...We can see if Scythe wants us to do anything after,” just fancier words for ‘I have no clue what else we should do.’
After his response, she began to guide him out of the church— or maybe a more accurate term was drag. Until he actually led the way himself.
Maybe Cauldron didn't like the expanse of the desert any more than the towering walls of the church. It didn’t fill him with that same dread, but the unbearable heat wasn't any more comforting.
He lightly tugged at his collar… anything to relieve some of that heat. He didn't think he could ever fully get used to this. Despite the years he had spent with the Church, he somehow hadn’t adjusted. At this rate? Cauldron was convinced he never would.
Well, of course he wasn't passing out from the heat anymore, but… he hadn't exactly reached the same level of unfazed as Cobalt seemed to.
She appeared just fine. Walking with that same confidence, shooting a slightly annoyed glance towards him when he was falling behind.
Which she was doing right now.
Cauldron felt his face heat up, not just from the sun this time. He was quick to match her pace again, unwilling to have Cobalt drag him right back to her. He could go without the constant accusations of ‘you're trying to run away by standing so far back!’ and ‘you want to get away from me, I'm wounded!’
He kept his eyes trained on the sand pathway beneath him, focusing on the light crunch of it under his shoe. At least he didn't feel Cobalt's gaze drilling into him at all times. It was almost worse than those damn beams of sun.
He couldn’t help but flinch as her hand grazed his shoulder again, her grip all too tight. A finger tapped against it, trying to get his attention.
“Not much longer now. Make sure not to get all heat sick until then, I'd rather not have to carry you all the way back to the Church,” she spoke, an ounce of annoyance in her tone.
Cauldron nodded.
She kept her arm around him. He wanted her to let go, but he wouldn't say that out loud. She wouldn't care.
…
Cauldron had to hold back a sigh of relief when those familiar stalls and carts and shops came into view. Hanging lights that were hardly needed thanks to the sun, the overwhelming smell of various food stands, the familiar vendors that he frequented… something nice to think about. Opposed to the sand beneath his feet or the person beside him, anyways.
For once, he took the lead. He gained a sort of confidence as he traversed the roads he'd grown accustomed to, retracing the paths he had taken time and time again.
And for once, Cobalt let him do so. She retracted her grip, allowing Cauldron to walk ahead. Of course, she kept an eye on him at all times… but it was better than her breathing down his neck.
Cauldron visibly eased up as he interacted with each vendor, flashing a genuine smile or waving bye to those he recognized. Those that he had become a regular for.
His hands were quick, operating off of pure muscle memory as he exchanged bux for a small bag of ingredients. He offered a small nod as goodbye to the vendor, watching as they waved in return.
He returned to Cobalt's side, his arms neatly lined with bags from each stall they had visited. He managed to stuff a few of the smaller things into his bag, but it did little to narrow down the amount he had gotten. Cobalt had been ‘kind enough’ to hold one or two of them, although she had previously expressed just how much she disliked it. Not like he was forcing her.
“I didn't know you were running so low on your supplies. Maybe you should have told us sooner, hmmm?” Cobalt commented, her eye narrowing.
Cauldron felt his face heat up again. He vigorously shook his head before raising his hands up placatingly.
“No, I- I was only running out of a few things, okay? You can check back at the church, I just–” he paused. “I just wanted to be really prepared, y'know…? So I wouldn't have to worry about going back out again,”
It took her a few moments to show any reaction. Once she did, she let out a sigh of resignation, before acknowledging his words with a nod.
“Fine, then. I understand but surely there isn't anything else that you need while we're out?” Judging by the tone of her voice, she didn't really want there to be any more stops.
Regardless, she'd have to let Cauldron do his own thing for once.
“Not really…” he began. She was quick to perk back up. “We can start heading back now.”
That seemed to be final. As soon as Cauldron said that, Cobalt was quick to start tugging him along the pathway again. It's not like they had anything important to attend to back at the Church, but she appeared to be in a hurry. Not that he'd ever question her actions right in front of her face.
His gaze
lingered on each building they passed by. Apartments, restaurants, convenience stores… Really anything that caught his eye. Loud and bright signs, chipping paint and flashing lights, most everything looked the same. All the same attempts to get your attention, to pull you in.
For someone like Cauldron, it had the opposite result than intended. He didn’t want anything to do with the bars that smelled of nothing but smoke and alcohol, or every loud store with the same migraine-inducing music. No, what he focused on instead was something more quaint.
As Cobalt dragged him along, he had caught sight of a small building… probably just some place rented out and repurposed to what it was now.
The sign above the door was small, hand painted with pastel letters, spelling out the word ‘café.’
Cauldron stared at it the entire time it was in view, perhaps without even realizing. Not until a hand lightly squeezed his shoulder. He tore his eye away from the place, instead facing Cobalt.
“Oh…”
He wouldn't deny it. I mean, it did look like a nice little place. If he had the choice, he'd probably go check it out…
But with her here? And her insistence to return to the Church? There was no way he'd be able to—
“Are you interested in it?”
“...Huh?”
“Are you?”
…he considered her words carefully. Maybe too carefully, for what was just a simple offer.
“I mean, yeah, but—”
“Then come on.”
He didn’t really get a say in that. Cobalt was quick to pull him towards the little café before he could get any words in.
“...Why?”
She barked out a laugh, “I'm feeling generous today. Don't waste it.”
Talk about a shift in mood…
Maybe he shouldn't dwell on it. Her intentions, anyways. Not when such a good offer was laid out right in front of him. All things considered, this for sure wasn't being done out of the goodness of her heart.
But could he bring himself to care right now?
…A little, yeah.
Nonetheless! This was something ever better to focus on. Something was going his way!
For once, maybe everything wasn't dictated by the Church.
Such a small act, something so stupid as going to a café when he wanted to—
It was almost a little freeing.
