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Chapter Text

Saparat was sure it hadn’t been on purpose. That Fluixon hadn’t meant to come to his island, had no intentions of seeing him even again. 

No, he knew exactly what it was, one last desperate attempt, chased, soldiers from the Cass Coalition and Tricolor in close pursuit. Likely, Fluixon and Thomas hadn’t even realized what land mass they were approaching, hadn’t thought about it, too caught up in running for their lives to examine the once familiar trees. 

Sure, Sap supposed they could be vaguely aware, but you don't have a lot of time to ponder when you’re running for your lives. 

They must have been spotted a while ago, Saps thought; they looked ragged, exhausted. Fluixon, who had always kept his appearance clean, tight, and perfectly in place, looked wrong, his cravat gone, leaving his shirt collar loose and open, and the coat had certainly seen better days. 

Saparata might have missed it had he been somewhere else. Might have missed the two of them tearing down the beach, running for their lives as they were hunted, shouts coming from their pursuers, some in anger, some in triumph, as their perceived victory slipped closer and closer. 

Saps easily could have been inside, fixing up the house he had finally, after months and months, returned to. Instead, he was avoiding the project, which left him here, mere yards away from the treeline. Close enough to hear the arrow that sliced through Thomas, killing him instantly. Close enough to see Flux stutter in his running, turning briefly, then stop, just for a second. Close enough to hear Flux let out a strangled  “No!” To see the look on his face, fear, grief, desperation. Emotions he’s never seen Flux have, never heard him express. Expressions Fluixon wouldn’t dare let anyone see on his face. Anger had been the one negative emotion he allowed beyond the mask; anything else had been a weakness. 

The stop wasn’t long, and Fluixon didn’t even fully stop, just slowed really, craned his neck back to see that Thomas was well and truly dead. His last supporter, his most loyal man, maybe even his friend, although Sap didn’t think he was really capable of those. 

Fluixon hadn’t really stopped running, but it had been enough, and the desperate pounding of feet seemed a little less determined to get away now. 

Saps thought then, how easy it would be to run and intercept him, to get in front of him and catch him. The thought wasn’t even fully formed before he felt his feet running. 

Fluixon didn’t see him as he leaped out onto the beach. He had craned his head to the side, just for a second, to see how close his pursuers were when he ran full force into Saparata. Sap’s arms came up and grabbed his. Fluixon struggled, instantly, instinctively, and then his eyes met Saps, and realization washed over him. 

And Flux went still. 

His eyes never left Saparata's. There was no pleading or fear in them, nothing that Saps would expect from a man in his position, just level determination. Like he was trying to see through Saparata’s eyes into his brain, like he could hear his thoughts if he stared hard enough. 

So Saps stared back, unwilling to be the one to back down, to look away. Once, maybe, when they were friends, he would have. He would have made some joke to ease the tension and let Fluixon win. But that was a lifetime ago, and he was not that person anymore, neither of them were. 

The pounding of feet grew closer and then stopped, in a disorderly half circle. No one spoke for a minute, just hard breathing as they caught their breath. 

Flux’s hands came up and grabbed the front of Sap’s shirt, hands clinched tight. As if holding onto the fabric would stop them from taking him, stop his inevitable execution. 

Saparata had once professed that he would not die until Fluixon had, that he would end the life of Fluixon by any means necessary. But now he had him, his finger digging tightly into his forearms, Fluixon’s body ragged for breath, exhausted and depleted only inches away from Saparata, and the idea of executing him didn’t seem to fit anymore. 

Not that Fluixon didn’t deserve it, not that he wanted him alive, but cold state-sponsored execution, or letting this random group of soldiers just kill him here, felt wrong, felt inconclusive. 

Sap needed time to think. He knew it should be him who decided Fluixon’s fate. He was Sure of that. He could not leave it up to others. But he didn’t know what it should be yet. 

“This is my island, I have jurisdiction here, and I will take the fugitive prisoner,” is what came out of his mouth. His eyes scanned the crowd, partly to see if they were challenging him, partly to ignore Flux’s stare boring a hole through him. 

Mostly, everyone just looked as confused as Saps felt. Saps was fairly pleased to note that no one looked angry. 

“Saps, are you sure?” The person speaking was from the Cass coalition; they’d talked a few times during the time Sap spent there after the war. 

“Is there a problem with that?” 

“Uhhhm, no, you. .  just, you don’t have to, you know?” 

Oh, they weren’t worried about him; they were worried for him. That was nice. 

“Yeah, I know, I’m sure,” he wasn’t. 

The others all looked around, shuffling. It was a bit anti-climactic, all that chasing and adrenaline, just to walk away. 

“Is there, uhh,” They were looking at the Saps’ hands, holding onto Fluixon so tight that he was beginning to draw blood at the fingernails.  “Anything we can help you with, Saps?”

Right, yeah, he had to move, Fluixon had to move. 

“Yeah, could you, um, tie him up maybe?”

He only let go of Fluixon once two people had him by the shoulders, pulling him away from Saprata. Flux didn’t so much let go of Saps’ shirt as he did loosen his hands, so it didn’t rip as he was pulled away. 

Saps made the mistake of glancing at him as they did. Fluixon held himself straight and stiff as always, as if, for a brief moment, he hadn’t stopped. But the most notable thing was, even as they jostled him away, he never stopped staring at Saps, never even blinked. 

“And uhh, I could use help maybe building a cell or room or something to keep him in, for now.” 

“You got it, Saps.” 

They began to organize people, as Saps just stood there, mind still reeling, thinking a million things, thinking nothing at all. He could feel Fluixon, somewhere just to the side of his vision, still staring at him as soldiers from Tricolor bound his hands roughly. 

Then something clicked in Saps’ head. 

“Oh, and if some of you could help me bury Thomas.” 

Despite the fact that he was very much not looking, and Flux had been staring at him the entire time, he knew there was something even more intense about it now. Something between anger and gratitude. Saps didn’t want to know, so he didn’t look. 

Eventually, he got to work with the rest of them, cutting down trees and sawing wood. It would take a few days, so as evening approached, he broke off from the work party and began to make food. 

He hadn’t checked where Fluixon was in all this; he’d been intent on not checking, but if you don’t know where someone is, you’re liable to run into them. Which is how, as he wandered back to the beach, just as afternoon had firmly become evening and was fast approaching night, he saw Fluixon, flanked by the same two guards, hands bound, standing in exactly the same spot. Stiff, chin jutted out as if this was all beneath him, as if he didn’t care at all. 

He noticed Saps almost immediately, and once again, he was staring, eyes dark and intense, boring into him, as if he could suss out what Saparata was thinking, was planning for him. Saps snorted a little at the thought. Good luck, he thought, I don’t even know what I’m planning. Maybe Flux would figure it out before he did and tell him, wouldn't that be helpful? He laughed a little to himself as he set up a pot over the fire.

As the day ended, and people set down their tasks, they found themselves around the fire, bowls of stew in their hands. Fluixon had been brought into the circle, forced to sit, and despite his hands being bound together, one of the guards had placed a bowl in them, and so, amusingly, Flux was trying to drink from a bowl of stew while still trying to look above it all, unaffected and regal. Which, given the situation, was incredibly difficult. 

When Saparata informed the soldiers that they’d all be camping out on the beach, assuring them that it was perfectly safe and not too cold, the group had, of course, questioned why not in his house. Which in turn forced him to tell them that he had only just started fixing his house, that it was mostly a large meeting room, and the chairs were still full of spikes, and there were blood stains on the floor. Eyes had predictably fluttered between him and Fluixon in a variety of emotions as he recounted this to them, but no one pressed the issue. 

Saps was assured that Fluixon would be guarded by two guards throughout the night, that they’d take shifts, and that seemed good enough to Saps. 

Honestly, he didn’t really think Fluixon could fight off one guard, let alone two. His game had always been manipulation or confusion; it had been conversations and traps, set up ahead of time, based on the idea that he knew information first. Here, with no lackies, no traps, where everyone knew his tongue was poison, he had nothing. No, they hardly even needed a guard. Flux was useless; in fact, Fluxion, The Architect, the great conspirator, was practically dead. 

Saparata slept peacefully that night. 

The next morning, Saps’ mind was working a little better, his thoughts a little clearer. The shock that had manifested itself into a constant sort of white noise the day before was all gone now. 

That morning, as he walked down the beach on his way to help cut trees, he passed Thomas’s body, laying face down, blood having long since seeped into the sand, discoloring the beach around him. 

Saparata abandoned his task to set off to find a good spot, not too far away, for a grave. Once he found a decent spot, he turned back, gathering a few recruits, and they began to dig. 

It took a few hours, and the sun was high in the sky by the time they were done. While digging, they had found a largish rock that Saps deemed good enough for a grave-marker, nothing special, just a rock, better than nothing, he supposed. 

They headed back to the body, and a couple of soldiers grabbed what was once Thomas, flipping him over, eyes still wide open in shock, the body slightly bloated and stiff. They grabbed him by the arms and began to pull him towards the grave, out of sight. 

Saps felt Flux’s eyes on him. Oh yeah, they were burying his closest companion; he should probably be there, it was the right thing to do. Saps should say something, he should order Flux to come with or tell the guards to let him, or something. But the longer he stared back, saying something felt more and more impossible, until he simply turned away and began to follow the drag of the body. He felt a little ill at his failure, then he felt a little vindicated; it’s not like Fluixon deserved kindness, then he felt guilty. 

Except, the crunch of feet in sand somewhere behind him caused him to turn. Flux must have just followed him, and the guards, following close behind, let him. 

It was a silent procession; by the time Saps and Flux got to the gravesite, they had already rolled the body, unceremoniously, into the grave below. Saps picked up a shovel and helped fill in the dirt. No one spoke as the body was buried. 

Flux stood silently, eyes on Thomas’s face, and then, slowly, on where the dirt covering Thomas’s face was. 

Eventually, as the light of the day began to dim, Sap patted down the top of the soil with his shovel, making it a little less loose, before picking up the rock and placing it into the middle of the now-packed-down earth. 

No one had said a word the whole afternoon except quiet little “Here,” as shovels or water were passed between people, or “I’ll be right back” as people took a break. And the occasional hushed “Thanks” between the people burying the body. 

The walk back to the camp was equally silent. 

In fact, Saps realized that Fluixon hadn’t spoken to him at all, the entire time. He realized the last time Fluixon spoke to him was years ago, when he’d smiled, placed a hand on his shoulder, saying: "You go, don’t worry, we’ll finish up here for you."  He hadn’t been there when the trap went off, and he had been notably missing from Saparata’s trial. Saps hadn’t gotten close enough to him in the battle for them to speak. No, they hadn’t spoken since Saps still thought they were friends; they hadn’t spoken since Fluixon betrayed him. 

Saps was in a foul mood by the time they reached camp. 

A couple of soldiers from the Cass Coalition were making dinner, and the person Saps knew met him towards the edge of the camp. 

“We’ve finished constructing a cell; a couple of us spent the last two hours in it trying everything they could think of to get out. I think it will hold, at least overnight. Tomorrow I want to add a few things to it, lava underneath, things like that.”

The thought made Saparata's stomach twist a little, “No, just a normal sturdy cell should be good, thank you so much for your help. 

The cell had been built in conjunction with Saps’ house. They had seemed nervous to show him, and as they walked through his house, Saps realized why. They hadn’t only added a cell behind the meeting room, they had also removed the drip stone and cleaned the blood stains. His ceiling looked normal, fixed, and the chairs that had been punctured had been replaced. It looked like nothing had ever happened. 

He stopped, just by what had been his chair, emotions overwhelming him, some good, some bad, some just weird, as if time could be done over so easily. 

“Saps. . .” Whatever they were going to say, Saps cut off with a tight hug, hiding his face and ending the conversation all at once. He wasn’t ready to talk about this, any of it.

The cell looked normal, a little small, a little sparse, but normal. That was fine, he’d add a bed for Flux later. 

They all agreed to spend one more night camping on the beach, and, in the morning, Fluixon would go to his cell and the soldiers would go home and report the situation to their kingdoms. 

Chatter was subdued and quiet that night as they ate. A few people brought Saparata up to date on what had happened in the rest of the world in the last month or so he’d been out here alone, updates from home, as well as from the other island.

“Yeah, Luminara is actually doing amazing, epicenter of trade because of their bridge, they probably profit the most off of inter-island trade,” one of the soldiers said offhandedly in the middle of a conversation about trade routes. 

Saps snorted a little. He knew Fluixon was listening, sitting silent and listening, and he knew that that probably stung. They were doing better without him, and they were thriving because of all the things he feared and opposed, because of the things he was sure would be their doom. Because he was wrong. 

Saps spent the rest of the evening in a great mood.

Chapter Text

In the morning, they locked Fluixon into his cell, handed Saps the keys, and said their goodbyes. And then he was alone. 

It was silent in the house, Fluixon was silent in his cell, and Saps had no idea what to do now. 

He spent a long time looking around the main room, thinking about what he wanted to do next. Eventually, he decided he was going to build a second story. The fact that required him to tear down the ceiling was, of course, only an added bonus. 

He got to work. The only times he saw Fluixon were at mealtimes, when he brought him a dish, sliding it through a slot in the bars, made specifically for this. Fluixon would take it slowly, then Saps would retreat to go eat in a slightly less dark and gloomy part of the house. 

He knew the work he was doing was loud. It was construction, over Fluixon’s head. And he knew Fluixon was curious, liked to know everything that was happening around him. But he didn't offer up any explanation, didn't say a word. 

On the third day, Flux broke, “What, exactly, is it that you’re doing that’s causing so much racket?” 

Saps, if he were a slightly worse person, would have laughed at him. Three days of boredom, that’s all it took to break his silent streak. Fluixon didn’t sound small or sad or broken; he sounded just as demanding and imperious as ever. 

“Tearing the ceiling out, I’m going to build a second story!” Saps said easily, like they talked all the time, like they never stopped, like it was just another conversation with a friend. 

Fluixon stared at him for a long minute, calculating,

“Want any help?” There was humor in it, and despite himself, Saps found himself laughing. 

He grinned back at Flux, “Over my dead body, Flux.”

Flux let out an amused breath. “Well, that was the idea.”

It was funny for a moment, both chuckled at the joke, and then it wasn’t anymore. The air grew stale, and Saps found himself awkwardly retreating, somewhere between disappointed and angry. He went back to the roof. 

They didn’t talk again, but after that, when Saps slid Fluixon’s meals into his cell, he nodded back at Saps. Which, Saps supposed, was as close as you could get to a 'thank you' from Flux. 

On the fifth day, Saps realized that the only thing Fluixon had in his cell was a blanket and a pillow. On the sixth day, he told Fluixon that if he promised not to try anything, he’d drag a bed into his cell.  

Fluixon just snorted and said, “Cross my heart,” somewhat sarcastically. But when Saps dragged the bed in, Flux stayed generally in one of the far corners, making no moves to try and overpower Saps or run. 

In thanks, or something like that, maybe out of pity, that night Saps slid a book and quill into Flux’s cell along with his dinner. Flux said nothing, but stared at him intently as he took the book in his hand. Saps wondered briefly if Fluixon thought he had some master plan, some great scheme. He should have known better. Saps had never been a planner; he was just good at thinking on his feet. 

A few nights later, after he slid Fluixon’s dinner to him, Flux spoke, 

“How far are you with the roof?” 

“Finished tearing out the old ceiling, about halfway through constructing the platform for the next story.” 

Wordlessly, Flux opened the book Sap gave him and slid it back through the meal slot. It was opened to a page of complex drawing. Saps stared at it in disbelief. It was plans for a second story, as well as a few additional rooms on the ground floor. 

“There are plans for a basement on the page before.” 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Saps whipped his face up to look at Fluixon, who, for once, was not looking at Saps’ face, but rather at the book in his hands. He shrugged. 

Saps turned on his heel, storming away. 

That night, he looked at the plans. He wondered briefly if Flux had started with plans for a basement and additional rooms because he knew plans for a second story, for a ceiling, wouldn’t be received well. But in the end, Fluixon was Fluixon; he was never good at stopping himself from doing exactly what he wanted to do. 

Saps hated to admit it, but the plans were good, great even. He hadn’t really had a concrete plan for the second story, just some general ideas. 

He went to bed angry. And, in the morning, after silently dropping off Fluixon’s breakfast, he began to work on the second story, using Flux’s plans. 

“Can I have my book back?”

It was the first thing they’d said to each other in four days. Honestly, Saps was surprised Fluixon hadn’t broken sooner. He was surprised he hadn’t broken sooner. But even if he had no one to talk to, at least he had something to do. Fluixon had nothing but his thoughts and scheming. Saps sighed and went to get a book. He passed it through the bars. As he was walking away, Flux stopped him: “This isn’t the same book.”

“Yeah, well, I’m using that one.”

He turned back to glare, only to see Fluixon grinning at him, like he’d won something important. 

“Oh shut up!”

He heard the sound of Flux laughing as he retreated. 

The next day, Flux asked him about his progress, and Saps, maybe because he was lonely, maybe because he felt bad for Flux, told him. After that, it became common practice for him to update Flux on his building progress at lunch and dinner. 

Eventually, he moved a chair into the room in front of the cell, so they could eat and chat at the same time. After that, it wasn’t long before Saps started asking for advice on little issues he came across. Flux didn’t always know the answer, but it was nice to be able to talk about it out loud. They stuck to talk of construction, nothing personal, nothing beyond twenty minutes, twice a day, at meal times. 

Flux wrote and drew furiously; there wasn’t much else for him to do. He was on his fifth book when Saps finished the second floor. 

It was quiet and awkward for two days before Saps sat down for lunch one day and said, “I think I’m going to start work on the basement, but I’m not sure how to start.” 

And just like that, it was back to normal. Or, the new normal. Nothing about this is normal. 

In fact, late at night, Saps thought about how this was only working because they were both ignoring the obvious. Because they weren’t talking about it, about the betrayal, about the years Saps spent as a fugitive, about the war and all the death, about Thomas, about the fact that Fluixon was a prisoner. About the fact that Saps still hadn’t decided what he was going to do with him. Because, even though they were ignoring it right now, this was not sustainable. 

That became increasingly obvious three days later when Fluixon said, “You’ve got to let me out at some point, just for exercise, my muscles will atrophy otherwise.”

He said near the end of dinner, so Saps just got up and left. He couldn’t think about that, couldn’t think about this any sort of 'long term' because if he did, he’d know that this wouldn’t work, that this had to end, and then he’d have to think about what the end should be. And despite the fact that he started all this so he would have time to think about that, he’d been avoiding thinking about any of it at all. 

Chapter Text

A couple of days later, four months after this whole thing began, Cass showed up, alone. No longer afraid, there was no need to be flanked by bodyguards at all times. Not now that Fluixon was no longer in the world. 

“Saps, how are you? I see you’ve been busy.”

Saps greeted her friendlily, told her how much he appreciated all the help from her soldiers, smiled, and laughed as they chatted.

It was the first time he’d talked to someone about something other than construction in weeks.

In turn, Cass told him about all the news from the outside world, and Saps offered to show her around the house. 

He showed her the second floor and the progress on the basement, told her about his plans for additional rooms, and that he’d been thinking about expanding the garden, making it more sustainable. 

It was as they were walking through the main room, Cass stopped, hand brushing over something on the table. 

It was the book, wide open to the house plans. 

“Saps, this is his handwriting, isn’t it? His plans?”

“How do you. . .?”

“He was the leader of Luminara for years. We were on several councils together. I’ve read many of his reports and plans over the years, I know what they look like, and they look like this.”

She flipped the book up to show Saps what he already knew was there. 

“Okay, yeah, so what? He’s bored, he drew those.”

“Saps, you let him design your house?”

“Cass, it’s really not. . . “ Saps trailed off, really not what?

“You’re letting him control you. He gives you designs, and then you go off and build them. He’s doing what he does best, and you’re letting him. “

“Oh come on, Cass, he’s not in charge of me. He just came up with the designs; I’m in control of whether or not I want to use them.” 

“But you did, use them, you are using them.”

Saps had no idea what to say.

“Does he know?”

“What?”

“Does he know you’ve been using his designs?”

“. . . Yeah, yeah, he knows.”

“Oh Saps.”

It was silent for a bit. 

“I don’t know what to do.”

“What?”

“With him, I don’t know what to do. He said recently that I’d have to let him exercise somehow, you know, basic prison stuff, and I hadn’t thought of that. And he’s right, if this is his prison, I do have to, but I just, I don’t know how long this can last, I don’t want it to, last that is, but I don’t like any of the alternatives either.”

When he was done, he finally looked up at Cass, and she looked troubled.

“You sound miserable.”

“I’m trying not to be.”

“Would you be less miserable if he wasn’t here?”

“Yes.” Sap thought for a second, “No, I’d be lonely.”

“You could always move Saps, you’re always welcome in the Cass Cohelition.”

“No, I. . .thank you, Cass, but no, I can’t. The idea of living around all those people, people who spent years wanting me dead, hunting me down, hating me. I can’t do it. I spent years trying to clear my name, to get home, and the irony is, now that I have, the only person I can stand being around for more than a few days is the person who did this to me. Maybe because he always knew the truth, always knew who I was, what kind of person I was. Which is fucked, but that’s where I am, Cass, that’s as far as I’ve got, I can’t seem to figure it past that point.”

“Okay,” Cass nodded, thinking as he talked, taking in what he said and deciphering it. 

“Okay, so you need to make it sustainable, you need to work towards coexisting.”

“What?”

“Let him help with the house, or something, make it sustainable, and then maybe you’ll be less miserable.”

“Let him out of his cell? Are you crazy? I thought you wanted him dead more than anyone.”

“I do, I hate Flux, and I think he deserves it. But you’re my friend, Saps, and I care about you more. You said you’re miserable, I’m willing to bet Netherite he is too. You want this to be sustainable? You can’t live your entire life as a prison guard; you deserve a better life than that.”

Saps breathed out, not in clarity or peace, but in frustration.

“And just let him get away with it?” 

“That’s your decision, Saps. No one can make it for you. You have to decide what you want; it’s up to you.“ Cass paused, “I should go soon if I want to make it across the water by nightfall.” 

As Cass turned to leave, Saps made no move to walk with her. It would be the polite thing to do, but he was thinking. He’d spent so long not considering the exact thing he needed to, the thing he didn’t know was even something to consider, the thing Cass had brought to a head. Did he want to punish Flux, or did he just miss being his friend? 

“Oh, and Saps?”

“Yeah?”

“If you ever decide you want to be free of him, the Cass Coalition is always willing to do the world a favor.”

“Thank Cass, it was good to see you.”

“You too Saps, take care of yourself.”

And then Cass was gone, and the sun was going down. 

Saps sighed. He needed to start on dinner. 

That night, when he brought dinner into Flux’s cell, it was pretty quiet. Flux wasn’t looking at him, wasn’t asking him about his progress. 

“Can you hear?”

Flux looked up, vaguely surprised, 

“How much can you hear conversations in the meeting room. How much of my conversation with Cass did you hear?”

Flux looked a little guilty and maybe a little worried. “Pretty much everything.”

It was silent for a few minutes as they both started to eat again. 

“Would you run?”

“Hmm?”

“If I let you out, would you run?”

“And go where? Do what? I leave this island, and I’m free game. Thomas is dead, all my allies, or potential allies, are dead, everyone knows my face. Where would I go, Saps?”

At that, Saps felt like he had been struck, not because of what Flux said; he supposed he always knew that, logically. But ‘Saps’, he hadn’t said his name since before everything. Saps didn’t know why that hit him harder than the talking thing. But it did. 

He stayed silent for a bit after Flux’s response, and he could feel Fluixon overthinking, going over his own words to see if he made himself look too weak or if him having a clear understanding of his position made it seem like he was scheming. Saps knew Flux, knew he was turning over every part of the interaction, trying to rule whether, in the long term, this would hurt or help him. 

Saps let him, for about ten minutes, they ate in silence as Flux stewed in his own thoughts. Then, finishing dinner, Saps stood up, stretched, and, halfway out the door, he said, “You know, there are parts of the basement where I could use a second set of hands.” 

There, let Flux stew on that one.

Saps went to bed grinning. 

Chapter Text

It ended up being a couple of days before he tried it.  Not on purpose, but a rainstorm flooded the garden, and he needed to focus on that. He didn’t want to let the first time Flux was out of his cell be outside, too tempting. So he fixed it himself. 

The first day Flux was let out of his cell was a disaster. For a variety of reasons. 

The first being, after months of being in his cell, he wasn’t very strong, and they were doing construction, and Flux hated appearing weak, refused to ask for help, and pretended he was capable of more than he was to compensate. 

All of this caused mistakes, which Flux refused to acknowledge as his fault, and left them both irritated. 

The second issue was that Flux fucking sucked, which Saps knew, had known for years, but it wasn't until they were shouting at each other in a half-dug basement that he remembered vividly that his main goal in life used to be killing him. 

“I am NOT doing it wrong, I made the plans, I think I would know what it’s supposed to be!”

“You might have drawn some scribbles on a book, but in case you forgot, it’s my god damn house and I 

can change things if I want to! And I want to do it like this!”

“Fine, okay, if you want it to be objectively worse, we can do it your way, but don’t blame me when the floor caves in!”

“Right, because the floor caving in in my house is so far outside the realm of things you would purposely do!” 

“Oh come on! That’s outrageous. What purpose would I possibly have in making the floor cave in? It’s not even far enough to kill you! And if it did, then what would I do? Starve in my cell? That would be a stupid plan!”

“As if you’ve never come up with a stupid plan before!”

“Name one! Name one of my plans that didn’t work?”

“Oh, I don’t know!? All of them! You’re here, aren’t you?”

The silence in the basement, the sound of the two of them breathing hard after their shouting, felt somewhat embarrassing. Clarity, in the silence, wasn’t a pleasant thing. 

Fluixon looked incredibly uncomfortable, eyes darting for the stairs, or the jumble of dirt they were currently calling stairs. 

“Thinking of running?”

Saps’ voice came out much more serious than he meant it to. It was only when Flux’s eyes flicked down and then back to his face that he even realized he’d put a hand on the knife on his belt. He didn’t know when he’d done that, so, slowly, he moved his hand off it. 

“No, I was considering storming off, but figured you’d think I was running and act accordingly. Also, I just got out of that cell, I’m not particularly eager to go back in.”

Saps wasn’t quite sure what to do with that. He didn’t know what he had expected, but the truth hadn’t been one of those possibilities. 

Although he supposed, sometimes employing the truth can get you what you want just as well as a lie can. 

“Let’s just finish digging this section out. We don’t have to talk.”

Fluixon just nodded in response and started digging again. 

Saps did notice, later that night, after Fluixon was back in his cell and Saps went down to check, that when he had reached the corner, he did it the way he had in his plans, and not the way Saps wanted. 

Saps went to bed fuming, but when he woke up, his body was less sore than usual after working in the basement all day. 

So, instead of sliding breakfast through the bars, he unlocked the door, “Come on, breakfasts on the table.”

Fluixon didn’t look surprised; he looked smug.

____

They were only in the basement for about twenty minutes before it became tense. Saps had set up Fluixon with a part of the project that Saps hadn’t adapted, so they couldn’t argue over it, but Saps was redoing the corner that Flux had done the night before. 

Flux spent the next three hours regularly glaring at Saps ‘behind his back.’

Lunch was tense, but after lunch, before anything else could come of it, the pair heard footsteps descending the stairs. 

Years of training and paranoia kicked in as Saps pulled his knife from his belt, tensing for a fight. 

“You’re not expecting someone?” Flux whispered harsh and cutting.

Saps shook his head, eyes never darting from the stairs, but in his periphery, he saw Flux wielding a shovel like a spear beside him, close to his flank, eyes trained on the steps. 

“Hey Saps I. . . Umm, hey, didn’t, uh mean to scare you.”

It was Cass. 

Saps let out a sigh of relief and put his knife away. 

Flux, slowly, lowered the tip of the shovel, putting it into the dirt below. But he didn’t get any less stiff, didn’t relax at all. In fact, he looked incredibly uncomfortable. 

Saps wondered if anyone else had ever seen him like this. 

The day before, Flux had spent more time than necessary deciding whether or not to wear his coat, eventually leaving it in his cell, along with his vest, and rolling up his sleeves to minimize dirt. Saps has only seen him look that disheveled once, and it was when Thomas had been killed. 

Cass, privy to none of Saps’ internal diatribe, eventually continued on. 

“Sorry for dropping by unannounced. There’s an islands-wide meeting coming up, and I came by to invite you.”

“Yeah, no worries, thanks for stopping by. What’s the meeting about?”

Saps felt like they’d been doing a pretty good job ignoring the elephant in the room, Flux, out of his cell, helping with the house. That careful avoidance ended up being for nothing in the end when Cass said:

“Him,” gesturing to Fluixon, “Schpoods finally gotten word about his existence here, he’s um, less sure about the whole thing than anyone else. Everyone on our island, ahh, feels guilty enough to let you decide what to do with him, Schpood, he knows what you’ve gone through, he respects you, he likes you, but uhh, he still thinks this should be an island’s decision.” 

It was quiet for a few seconds, and Saps heard Fluixon murmur “. . .islands unity. . .” to himself, and by the expression on her face, Cass did too. 

“Shit” Is all Saps could think to say. 

And then:

“What do I do with him while I’m at the meeting?”

“You’re going?”

“I need to don’t I? Be able to speak for myself.”

“You could bring him with?”

Saps snorted, “That would do me, and him, absolutely no favors. 

“I can actually hear you, you know.” Fluixon drawled, like he was trying to be an asshole

“Hush, the adults are talking,” Saps snapped before turning to Cass. 

“Whose someone we trust not to kill him, but wouldn’t be an asset to us at this meeting.”

“Us?”

“Yes, Cass, you and me.”

“Who says I’m a part of this?”

“Me, you owe me, also you’re not going to mention to anyone that he’s ever been out of that cell, please and thanks, Cass.”

Cass just sighed, “What about Legacy? He owes me for the travesty that was the plan to kill Fluixon. Luminara won’t be any great help when it comes to keeping him alive at the meeting, but Legacy knows better than to go against me on this, especially since he owes me.” 

Fluixon looked incredibly uncomfortable at the idea of being held prisoner by Legacy. Saps heard a rumor once that Fluixon had blackmailed and threatened Legacy out of his candidacy. The idea of making Fluixon that uncomfortable was actually pretty amusing. 

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”

Chapter Text

“No”

“What do you mean, no?” Cass hated this guy.

“I’m not going to play jailor so Saps can go to the meeting. I’m going to go to the meeting and suggest, on behalf of Luminara, that we kill him.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because he murdered our founder and president? A man who once trusted him? Because he blackmailed his way into power, betrayed every one of our founding ideals. Because he turned Luminra into a bed of conspiracy instead of a beacon of light. Because some people still think we were complicit. Because some people still blame us for what he did, and I refuse to let Luminara’s name be tarnished by him any further! I refuse to be a part of a plan to keep him alive. And honestly, Cass, I’m surprised you are either!”

Cass hated this guy. But he was right. Which was the worst. 

The first time she’d gone to visit Saparata after her soldiers came home with the report of what happened, she’d gone with the express intent to gently talk him into just killing Fluixon, then and there. And to be honest, she was still pretty sure that was the answer. Saps just had to figure that out on his own. 

Fluixon was stubborn to a fault, was incapable of admitting he was wrong, and always thought he was the smartest man in the room. These, of course, on top of the obvious flaws of mass murder, political conspiracy, and war crimes. But they were the flaws that would make the man impossible to live with. She was sure that daily tasks and helping around the house wouldn’t keep him satisfied for long, that he’d be awful and reveal all his true colors. 

The problem was, Cass thought, that Saps had somewhat rose colored glasses. Not of Fluixon, the man who had framed him and tried to have him killed. But of Flux, his friend. 

The problem was, Cass thought, that, despite all the terrible things Fluixon had done, they were all theoretical, in the sense that he hadn’t been there doing them, saying them. Saps hadn’t seen The Architect, hadn’t seen Fluixon betray him, order hits on him, try and trap him. He knew all those things, but the last visual memory he had of Flux was of a friend. All the concrete memories were of a friend in need or funny conversations. When he pictured Flux’s face, he didn’t see the man ordering him to be hunted down and killed; he saw the guy that he used to mine with, talk with, and laugh with. 

Eventually, though, reality would settle in, and the disconnect would connect, and the man in front of him would be the man he really was, and Saps would do the right thing. 

But he wasn’t ready, didn’t realize yet that the reason letting Fluixon be executed felt wrong was because he wasn’t holding the axe that did it. 

He had to figure that out on his own. 

Fluixon, however, was a problem. When Cass had come down the stairs to the two of them defending themselves against potentially deadly intruders, Fluixon had, wielding a shovel, been protecting Saps’ blind spot. She knew, and Fluixon knew, that he needed Saps alive because he was the last thing standing between him and a very public execution. Saps, though, he might take what he can get. Although. . . he hadn’t seemed to notice it at all. 

Cass sighed. 

Maybe she should just tell him. “You need to be the one to kill him, but he does have to die.”

Maybe she should just tell Schpood. 

She gave Saparata a lot of leeway because of what had been done to him. But he was only one man. His happiness could not be the reason for political unrest. 

The thought, though sound, sat funny with her for a moment, before she thought to herself Is that what Fluixon thought, before he betrayed him? He had been wrong, but he had acted in what he thought was the best interest of his people. Was she doing the same thing now?

No, Fluixon wouldn’t have questioned himself like this. So sure he was right, so sure no one else could be, he didn’t consider others’ lives, let alone emotions. Which is exactly why he deserved this; whatever fate would come to him, it would be justice. 

Cass just hoped Saparata saw it that way, eventually. 

Cass came to visit him again a few weeks later. It had been evening, so Flux was back in his cell, construction on the basement done for the day. 

When Cass had told him that Legacy had refused, he knew he had no other choice but to bring Flux with him. Which sounded exhausting. He was going to protect Flux from he people that would just try to kill him, and try and smooth things over as Flux started problems with that stupid big mouth of his. 

When he had expressed this to Cass in the meeting room (fully aware Flux could hear him), Cass had responded (less aware that Fluixon could hear them) that if he was that horrible, was it even worth trying to keep him alive? 

After a bit of back and forth, she had suggested that, if he really wanted to avoid this meeting so badly, he could just kill Fluixon himself and be done with it. She said it jokingly, lightly, but he could tell by her eyes that she meant it.

He wasn’t sure why he said it, but something about her eyes bothered him, and he found himself saying: “I don’t think I will be going to that meeting, but Cass, you can tell them that if they show up here to seize Flux, they will be declaring war on my island, and as the leader, I will be forced to defend myself. And we both know, as recent history has taught us, the only way to win a war is to kill their leader.”

Cass sat in stunned silence once he said it, they both knew what he’d really just said: ‘If you want to kill Flux, they’ll have to be willing to kill me too.’

Which was such a ridiculous thing to say, he was sure he didn’t mean it, he was sure he never had. Hell, he had really been considering whether he should just cut Flux’s head off and be done with it all the other day.

Cass left not long after that. 

And Saps, Saps made dinner, feeling defeated and drained. 

He decided he’d like to see the sun, for a bit, before it got dark again. So when he was done cooking, he unlocked Flux’s cell, 

“Come on, grab a bowl, we’re eating outside.”

Flux followed silently, and, while Saps had expected him to be smug about what he’d overheard, he looked pensive. Quiet. 

Fluixon was not a good man. He knew that; he’d never thought he was good, just smart, and ruthless enough to do what needed to be done, even where good men would falter. 

Flux hadn’t even ever thought of himself as a kind man; always thought it a waste of time. And now, here, living, surviving on the kindness of someone else, no plans or schemes to keep him afloat, no backup plans, no one following his orders, building his traps, now, here, Flux was just tired.

He knew he wasn’t a nice man, probably never would be; he grew frustrated at others’ shortcomings, that they couldn’t see his vision. Nice didn’t come naturally to him. But necessary that he could do. Thomas was dead, the last of the Conspiracy, his most loyal man. He had no plans, nowhere left to go, nothing to do, no greater purpose. 

And Saps, Saps had been playing a difficult balancing act for months, one that eventually would fail, and Flux knew how it would play out, knew where the chips would fall. Or he had, now there was the possibility that Saparata would get himself killed before he did the inevitable, and made up his mind to kill Fluixon. 

In both scenarios, in every scenario, Flux died, and he had decided months ago, when he stopped running, when he didn’t fight his way out or Saps’ arms, that he’d rather Saps hold the blade. 

It would mean something; he was worthy of it, and he might even bury him afterward. 

So, he doesn’t do good, or kind, or nice, but he does necessary, sitting on the steps of the house that he helped Saps build, that started this whole thing, holding a bowl of stew made in hospitality by the man that owed it to him the least, he spoke:

“You need to make a decision.”

“What?” Saps did actually look genuinely confused, 

“You’re not going to spend the rest of your life building this house. What happens when we’re done? You let me out for twenty minutes a day to run circles in the garden while you watch me? Sure, we could, but you’d be miserable. You either need to let me go, stop locking me in at night, stop watching me while I’m out, something we both know you can never do, or you need to kill me. Cass is right, you know it has to be you. You need to make a decision, Saps, and soon, before you get yourself killed over something as trivial as who gets to watch me die.”

Flux didn’t look at him while he said it, he couldn’t, it was far too revealing, far too personal, far too close to true. When he was done talking, he found he wasn’t hungry; the idea of forcing food into his throat sounded horrible, so he put the stew down on the step, got up, and walked back to his cell. 

It locked automatically when the door closed. He wasn’t sure why he closed it, but he did. And then he lay down. To sleep. Sleep didn’t happen, though. He just felt vaguely sick. 

He no longer had control over any of it, even his own life. No, his life was in the hands of a good man, a kind man, a nice man. And Flux didn’t like that at all.

Chapter Text

There were three days between Flux’s little speech on the steps and the meeting. Saps couldn’t figure it out, Fluixon was trying to force his hand to, what? Kill him? It seemed ridiculous. But what else would that speech achieve? 

The next three days were spent the same way the first three days were spent, in absolute silence, Fluixon in his cell, Saps passing meals through the bars before going to eat in another room. 

It felt wrong. 

Actually, now that he thought about it, he was pretty sure he knew what both Cass and Flux were thinking: that he was always going to kill Flux, why not just do it now before it caused trouble? 

And for two of the smartest people he knew, he thought they’d been rather stupid. 

Sure, he’d been thinking about it the whole time, but he’s never really considered it. No, the entire time he and Flux had been moving towards something, but it wasn’t death. Not this time. No, they started speaking, and eating together, and working together, and then the chains came off, and they had meals at the same table and argued over how to build their house. Because at this point, Saps had to admit, it was their house; Flux had been living there for months. 

And yeah, Flux fucking sucked sometimes, but he always did, even before the betrayal. No, Flux was wrong, again. They hadn’t been getting closer to Flux’s death; they’d been getting closer to being friends, to living together, not as a jailor and a prisoner, but just fucking cohabitating. Whatever you want to call it. 

Flux was right about one thing: he had to make a decision one way or the other; he just was wrong about what that decision was. 

Flux had been looking at him for months, trying to read Saps plan, but he’d got it wrong, again. Saps didn’t have a plan; he thought on his feet. And right now, he thought he was really fucking tired of being so lonely. 

When Flux woke up, he got up and tied his cravat, buttoned his vest, cleaned up his jacket as best he could before he put it on with one crisp movement. He was going to die as he lived. 

And today was the day of the meeting, Saps needed to make his decision now. Saps wasn’t stupid; he knew how to survive, it was what he was best at. 

Once he was dressed and his hair was in place, he sat on the edge of his bed waiting. 

Eventually, he heard soft footsteps, softer than usual, and, although he had no window to judge the time, he was pretty sure it was earlier than usual too.  Maybe Saps wanted to get it over with, maybe he wanted to be sure that the deed was done before someone from the meeting came to check if he’d meant what he told Cass. Flux didn’t look up to check. 

Keys jingled in the latch, the door swung open, and Saps spoke quietly. 

“I haven’t made breakfast yet or anything, but it should be ready in about 20 minutes.”

And then Flux heard soft steps recede. 

What?

After about a minute, Flux got up and followed Saps out to where they ate breakfast. He sat at the table and watched him cook. Eventually, Saps placed a plate in front of him, before sitting down in front of his own plate. 

Flux ate slowly, as if any sound from his plate might break the silence, might break whatever spell they were under. 

Flux had no intention of getting out of this; he just couldn’t seem to shake the habit. 

Saps didn’t really speak as he ate. But when he finished, he stood up and stretched, casual, like it was any other day, and then he spoke, 

“Right, I’m going to work in the basement today, want to reinforce the supports just in case. I could always use some help if you’d like; if not, I’ll see you at lunch.”

And then he turned and walked away. Walked away as if that was normal. Walked away as if Flux could be trusted alone in his house for even a single minute. Walked away as if- 

What. The. Fuck?

Flux sat frozen, wondering if it was a test, and if it was a test, was he being watched? What was the right play here? And then the sounds of a hammer, the sound of Saps actually working in the basement started, and Flux realized this was real. 

“You have to make a choice,” He’d said, and he’d been so sure, so sure there was only one choice to make, that could be made. And now. . .

He probably should have helped Saps in the basement; it was the right move, but Flux wasn’t good, or nice, or kind. 

And the door was right there, unlocked and unminded. 

Flux stood, straightened his coat, walked to the door, crisp and efficient, and took off running. 

Chapter Text

The longer Saps worked alone, the more uneasy he felt. Sure, he knew Flux probably wouldn't have wanted to spend his first day of freedom reinforcing support beams, and he knew constantly popping upstairs to check on Flux was against the spirit of having told him he was free, but the longer he worked, the more he worried. 

Eventually, he started worrying that Flux hadn’t understood what he meant, that maybe he had thought the choice was between working in the basement or going back to his cell, or maybe he’d gone to get something from his cell and had accidentily got locked in, or, he told himself, more logically, he could have just gone exploring, or he could be reading, or tearing up the garden or whatever it was Flux did for fun.  Saps decided he could go upstairs and make lunch, even if it was a bit early; breakfast had been a bit early, too, so it all worked out. 

When he got upstairs, he made a concerted effort not to immediately go looking for Flux. Instead, he washed his hands and thought about what he was going to cook. For about 30 seconds. Before he gave up. He’d left Flux alone for hours; he could always tell him he was about to make lunch, or ask for help with it, or something. He didn’t have to be checking up on him. 

He walked into the meeting room, where he froze. Flux’s half-eaten breakfast was still on the table, the chair pushed back, and the door- it flung wide open. 

Fluixon might as well have left a sign with  “I’ve run away” written in crisp text, and honestly, leaving the door open was just rude. 

Saps forced himself to move again, walking out the door and down the steps. The footprints were deep and obvious, like Fluixon had been sprinting, full force, into the mud and into the sand. Saps followed the steps to the beach, which is where things got confusing.

They seemed to loop, like Fluixon had run around the entire island and then just kept going. Which didn’t make sense. Unless Flux had gotten exponentially stupider in the last 4 hours, Saps was pretty sure he knew how an Island worked. 

So, slightly confused, he followed the side of the loop with two sets of footprints. He didn’t have to go very far. 

Flux was bent over, hands on his knees, breathing ragged. Saps wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anyone quite so out of breath. 

For a brief second, Flux picked his head up to look at Saps, and a look of, maybe embarrassment? flashed over Flux’s face, before his head dropped again.

“Uhhh, what are you doing?”

When Flux spoke, he picked his head up just enough to glare at Saps, choking out a single word between pants, “Running.”

“Well, uhh, not you’re doing the best job at it ever”

Flux glared again, panting and sputtering for breath for a few minutes before finally heaving himself back to standing. 

His breathing wasn’t entirely normal when he spoke again, but he was able to get that costic and seethingly condescending tone he was known for out between breaths. 

“I know. I haven’t been able to run for months. Which is why I wanted to. go for. a run.” 

Oh. 

A run.

Not running away, just, actual running. 

Right. 

“Anyway, I was just coming to see if you wanted lunch yet. I was kinda hungry, thought I might make it early.” 

“Yeah, sure.”

The two of them started walking back towards the house, and Saps, for some reason he couldn’t name, swung an arm around Flux’s shoulders, like the old days. 

He could see Flux out of the corner of his eye; he looked somewhere between brooding and contemplative, and after about two minutes of walking, he put his arm around Saps’ shoulder as well. 

They walked home silently, but maybe a little giddy. 

Okay, it looked bad. Flux was a man enough to admit that, the door flung open, his chair pushed back. Saps had so clearly been going for casual when he’d found him on the beach, but he could see the edge of panic in his eyes, the relief when he realized Flux wasn’t trying to leave. He’d considered making fun of him for it, once he got his breath entirely back, until he’d seen the state he left the main room in. He’d been so excited to test his wings, he hadn’t thought about how it would look. 

He was, however, a little mad that Saps decided to come up for lunch early. Flux would have preferred he came up at the normal time, or even just twenty minutes later than he did. He would have been able to pull himself together after his run if he had. 

As it was, Saps had taken the opportunity to make fun of him for his outrageous display of physical weakness. 

“I ran around the island. Twice!” 

“Keep telling yourself that, Flux, it was maybe one and a quarter.”

“Let’s keep you in a shoebox for months and then see how far you can run!”

“Hmmm, no, I don’t think so. No one has any reason to keep me locked up. Besides, aren’t you supposed to be the great Fluixon? Some sort of God amongst us mere mortals, and you’re telling me a little jog on the beach is enough to do you in?”

“Around. The entire island. Twice!”

“Keep telling yourself that, bud.”

Flux was considering getting back in his cell and calling it a day. 

As they bickered, Saps kept handing him things, carrots on a cutting board, with a knife. Little tasks Flux would do and hand back to him. Flux hadn’t really noticed at first, too busy arguing for his honor, but one of the potatoes was kind of hard to cut through, and then he had to think about it; he was cutting through something with a knife that Saps had handed him. And then a second thought took over; he was helping Saps cook. 

That was . . .weird 

Yeah, no, it was weird. 

And the weirdest part was how natural it was, how it just sort of clicked into place. 

Of course, he was helping Saps cook; they ate together, why wouldn’t they cook together? But at the same time. . .shit, it was weird. 

Saps didn’t seem to notice. Making fun of Flux had run its course, so now he was talking about the basement again. Flux nodded and mhm’d at the right moments, but all he was thinking about was how weird it was, how normal it was, how weird that it was normal. 

And then, when they sat down to eat, Saps asked him something insane and outrageous, 

“So, besides running, what do you think you’ll do?”

What? 

What a crazy question. Like Flux would have an answer. Like he hadn’t woken up this morning, ready to die. 

“Lots of renovations left to do on the house, some projects we could do to make farming more automated, lots to fix still.”

The words were out of Flux’s mouth before he could even think them. What? Why had he said that? Did he mean that? What the hell was Flux going to do with his newfound freedom? 

Well, freedom was a relative term; he couldn’t leave the island. And even if he didn’t—

The bubble burst. Flux remembered the meeting. Flux remembered they were both going to die. 

Saps had nodded at his response and was chatting about a project he wanted to do to expand the farm when Flux cut him off. 

“Saps.” Saps immediately heard the tone, serious and dark, and stopped talking

“What are you going to do when Schpood shows up? Or Cass decides she’s done waiting. Or even Legacy? The meeting’s today, there could be an army on your shore by next week. Do you really plan on getting yourself killed over this?” 

It was quite, extremely quiet, like the world is holding a long breath. 

“Schpood isn’t going to kill me.”

“What?”

“No one is going to come here and kill me, no one is going to even try.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Look, I know you’re worried, but me and Cass are friends, me and Schpood are friends, and he’ll respect my decision; he just needs to be sure. And after this meeting, he’ll be sure. And Legacy is a coward; he won’t act without backing, you know that.” 

Flux was pretty sure he was staring at Saps in something close to horror.

“Flux, I’ve got really good political relations with the world leaders, they like me, not just tolerate, like, and they also feel guilty, and like I’m owed something. If they’re sure I’m sure, they’ll back off. They won’t like it, but they’ll back off. 

Flux wasn’t sure he was able to speak. Saps was just sitting there, looking at him, patiently. And eventually, he forced something out. 

“I told you to kill me to save yourself, and you knew the whole time that wasn’t a choice you had to make? Why didn’t you say this three days ago!”

“Oh, yeah, my bad.”

“Your bad!?!”

“Yeah, whoops, sorry.”

Flux briefly considered throwing his bowl at Saps’ head. 

“Wait, you were willing to die to save me? I thought your whole little speech was ‘you’re going to do it eventually, I’m tired of waiting.’ You’re telling me that was actually you saying, ‘I’m okay with you killing me if it means you get to live’? Awww, Flux, you do have a heart!”

Flux threw his bowl at Saps’ head. 

Saps dodged it easily and laughed. Fucking laughed at him. 

Flux wasn’t seeing red, but it was definitely encroaching on the edge of his vision. He stood up, knocking his chair back, seething, but before he could storm away, Saps was standing too, had a hand on his shoulder. 

“No Flux, I- , thank you.”

What?

And then Saps was hugging him, and he was speaking. It was soft, but Flux could feel the vibration of it from Saps’ chest. 

“It means a lot that you’d be willing, that you’d try and save me. Thank you.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Flux grumbled against Saps’ chest. It felt awkward with his hands down by his side, so he hugged him back. 

It doesn’t just become easy overnight. Flux doesn’t stop being Flux, he doesn’t stop being stubborn, and he does not start apologizing. They argue, but mostly they just bicker. It’s almost fun, Saps doesn’t care about much, and Flux cares about everything all the time; it’s easy to mess with him, let him storm off, punch a tree, scream in frustration. 

Saps never actually claimed to be a good person. He only ever claimed not to be a guilty one. 

Chapter Text

Saps hadn’t been lying when he told Flux he wasn’t worried. He’d meant it, every word. 

But the more days that went by after the meeting that Cass didn’t stop by to update him, the more he worried he’d miscalculated. 

He hadn’t let Flux know that. In fact, between the occasional arguments, they’d been having a pretty good time renovating the house. Flux needed a project. Needed to feel useful, in control. So Saps finished the basement on his own and let Flux take over the expansion of the first floor he’d planned. 

One of the first things Saps had done was remove the bars on Flux’s cell. A couple of days later, after moving around some furniture in one of the rooms upstairs, the two of them carried Flux’s bed up the steps. It made more sense, really, to have both their bedrooms upstairs. 

And Saps didn’t just let Flux move on and forget. He wasn’t his jailor, but he also loved a good joke. 

Flux had come to check on him one day when he was working on the basement ceiling. 

“What are you working on?”

“Hmm, oh, nothing, just checking for drip stone.”

Flux turned around and stormed up the stairs to the sound of Saps’ laughter. 

So while things were good, Flux had a room, had a project, they bickered and laughed, ate and argued. Lived in relative peace, the looming sense of dread increased every day that Cass didn’t stop by. 

Schpood hated meetings. Always had. The fact that he had to call a meeting himself was ridiculous. The fact Spyder wasn’t here to take it for him. . . well, that just sucked. 

Saps not even coming to the meeting felt like a slap in the face. After everything Schpood had done for him, he couldn’t even show up and give Schpood a simple explanation?

When Cass had gotten there, she’d looked incredibly uncomfortable. She’d been silent as every nation’s leader went around saying what they would like done. Most of them wanted to kill Fluixon; most of them wanted their nation to get the honor to do it. When it came to Cass, she stood, cleared her throat awkwardly, and spoke:

“I’m speaking now, not as the leader of the Cass Coalition, but rather as the messenger for Saps. Please know that though I have been asked to carry these words, they do not represent my viewpoint:”

When Cass delivered the message, Schpood was floored, and angry, but mostly floored.  Saps couldn’t even explain himself to Schpood, but he was willing to try and force him into a corner? To dare him!? 

Schpood hated meetings, always had. So he left. He could hear general confusion and clamor in his wake. 

He didn’t care. 

When Schpood showed up on the island three weeks after the meeting, he’d seen Fluixon first. Fluixon was building the frame for a room on the outside of the house. His coat was hanging from a nail on one of the boards, and his sleeves were rolled up. 

Schpood had only seen the man once or twice, but that wasn’t how he remembered him looking. He looked stronger, looser, and slightly less evil. Or he had, before he’d seen Schpood. 

His eyes narrowed, quickly sweeping the jungle behind him, checking for additional men, then, satisfied there were none, fixed back on Schpood again. It was a rather intense gaze. 

“Is Saps’ home?”

“Yeah, you want me to go get him?” Fluixon’s eyes stayed trained on him as he spoke, and, although his words were casual, his tone was anything but, warning perhaps, as if to say, “Try anything and I’m ready.”

“Yeah, that would be great.”

And Fluixon slipped inside the house, disappeared like he’d never even existed. Except for a hand that snuck back into view and quickly grabbed the coat from the nail. Schpood let out one loud singular laugh at that. 

When Saps appeared, he was brushing dirt off his hands, sleeves still rolled up. Fluixon was somewhere behind him, off his right. He’d clearly tried to hastily put himself together, unrolled the sleeves, straightened the shirt, pushed his hair back, put the coat on. His eyes were still narrow, still trained on Schpood. The man looked almost comically evil; Schpood really wasn’t sure how they hadn’t caught him earlier. 

“Schpood, how are you?” Saps was still brushing off the dirt, desperately trying to seem casual, standing in the open door. But Shpood had known him long enough to see the nervousness in his eyes. 

“I just wanted to come by to talk.”

“Yeah, absolutely, let me just grab my cloak, and we can go for a walk, yeah? The house is kinda loud, all the construction.”

“Saps-“ Fluixon cut in, clearly hearing the second part of the sentence for what it was, a directive, and not liking it. 

“It’ll be fine. Besides, you’re almost finished with the frame.”

The look between the two men was heavy, significantly heavier than the words. Schpood could tell the communication relied on previous conversations. 

And clearly, Saps won, as Saps and Schpood walked down to the beach below, alone. 

It was quiet till they got to the beach, and Schpood just couldn’t not say it anymore.

“Why couldn’t you just tell me why you’re doing this?!”

“Why couldn’t you just ask?”

It was quiet again as they walked; he’d forgotten how clever and how calm Saps was. 

“So? Why are you doing this?”

“Because, if anyone gets to kill him, it’s me, and I don’t want to kill him.” 

Like it was that simple, and after a second, Schpood figured it probably was. 

They walked for a while after that. Schpood began to tell him about renovations in Westhelm, how the search for Night Arcturas was going. The memorial he was building for Spyder. In turn, Saps told him about all their renovation plans for the house and the island. After a while, Schpood decided he should go. Saps joked that he’d invite him to dinner, “but if Flux and you had to spend an hour at the same table, you really would kill him.”

“If he’s really that bad, why don’t you kill him?”

“No, it’s just he’s annoying and you’re. . “

“Unstable?” Schpood supplied. 

“You said it, not me.”

Schpood shoved him, and Saps laughed. 

“I do actually have a question for you. Cass, is there something wrong there? She hasn’t been back to see me since the meeting.”

“Oh, Uhm, I don’t think she was particularly pleased to pass on your message. I think the other nations might have been annoying about it, I’m not sure, I left.”

Saps laughed at that. “Of course you did.”

Three weeks ago.

Cass hated this guy. 

He hadn’t stopped talking at her for the last seven minutes; she had decided that if he reached ten, legally, she was allowed to punch him. 

“-and really, why does Saparata have final say on this? Did he really suffer the most? One could argue that those killed suffered the most, especially those killed by someone they used to trust! And really, if killing our leader wasn’t enough, what about the rest of what he did to Luminara? All the damage he did! Must I mention how he threatened me again? Forced the people to accept him as their leader? What about the fact he’s from Luminara? He’s a Luminara citizen? Does that not mean we have the legal right to him? Are we not responsible for his trial and sentencing? How is this anyone’s jurisdiction besides Luminaras?!”

It was quiet for a second, well, besides all the other people yelling and bickering, but the space between Cass’s left ear and Legacy’s mouth was quiet. 

Oh, he actually wants an answer. 

“Look, Legacy. I meant what I said; I’m just reporting to you all what Saps said to me. If you want answers from him, ask him. Look, this meeting is clearly over. I’m going home.”

Cass walked away swiftly, before Legacy’s brain could boot up again and say something else. 

Saps owed her for this. 

Flux didn't really know what to do with Saps’ good mood at dinner. He was practically buzzing. He’d been humming while he stirred a pot earlier. 

“So, productive conversation?”

“Hmm, oh yeah, Schpood cool.”

“Right.”

Okay, Schpood had been here, alone, which was odd. So clearly, Saps assessment that Schpood liked and trusted him was correct. Obviously, the conversation went well, and everything Saps believed was true, but if he already knew that, why was he so happy about it? Maybe he’d been lying earlier? But why lie, why not hold one over Flux, that he owes him? 

Unless, of course, he’d been lying about the whole thing, maybe the freedom thing was some sort of test, just waiting for Flux to slip up. Maybe Schpood was in on it, maybe the meeting wasn’t about what Cass said it was about at all. Saps’ knew Flux could hear conversations in the main room; maybe they’d staged it. Maybe this whole thing was about revenge, maybe Saps wanted to betray Flux the same way Flux had, as a friend. 

“You know, after the meeting, when Cass didn’t come to see me. I actually got a bit nervous about how it went. It’s really good to know Schpood’s not mad, he’s a good friend, I’d hate to lose one of those.”

Oh. Or it was just that. 

“Yeah, that is good.” It must have come out a little flatter than usual because Saps gave him a look. 

“You good? You’re not spiraling over there again, are you?”

“No.”

Saps snorted. “Okay.”

They ate dinner without talking. Saps didn’t stop grinning the entire time. It was disconcerting. Flux went to bed early. 

Chapter Text

“I’m going to go for a walk.”

“Okay, do you want me to come with?”

“No.”

It was silent for a moment, heavy with it. Flux knew Saps was trying to let him have more freedom, but Flux also knew that Saps didn’t really trust him yet. He tells himself he does, but he gets worried as soon as Flux is out of sight or earshot. He always popped up for “unrelated reasons” whenever the construction Flux was doing went quiet for too long. Flux sighed. He should probably give him something. 

“I’m going to go see Thomas.”

“Oh, do you want some flowers from the garden or something?”

“Why would I want that?”

“To put on the grave?”

“Why would I bring Thomas flowers? I’ll just talk to him or something!”

“Okay, okay!” Saps put his hands up jokingly. 

But as Flux stepped towards the door, the things in his pocket shifted, and a loud clink sounded through the main room.  Flux froze, turned slowly to see Saps looking at him, eyebrow raised. 

“Fine!” Flux pulled out the tools from his pocket. “I was going to carve him a grave stone. Happy?”

“Oh, yeah actually, that’s a good idea. Will you be back for lunch?”

“I don’t know.”

“Alright, see you later.”

Okay, that was easier than expected. Flux turned and left.

Saps had noticed something. Flux was always trying to get away with something. But he didn’t have to. 

He snuck downstairs in the middle of the night, learning all the stairs that creaked and where the shadows were darkest, because almost every night he went and got a drink of water and then sat outside and looked at the sky. 

Absolutely no reason he’d need to sneak from shadow to shadow down the stairs to do that. 

Flux fixed a gate in the garden the other day. Saps had watched from the window. But Flux had snuck the tools out one by one over several days, as to not get caught. 

No reason to hide that he was doing that, especially since it was helpful. 

Sometimes Flux snuck seasoning into the food behind Saps’ back. Sometimes he snuck them into the whole meal, sometimes just onto his own plate. But he always pretends he hadn’t. Waited for Saps to turn his back.

Saps let him. At first, he thought Flux just needed to feel like he was pulling one over on someone at all times. But slowly, Saps puts it together. 

At night, the water and the stars, the alone time for Flux. The gate had bothered Flux a lot more than it did Saps. The food, he was seasoning it how he liked it. Thomas’ grave, that had been his friend, his loyal companion. All the other little things fit the pattern, too. Flux felt like he was getting away with something, felt like he was conspiring, whenever he did something for himself. If it was something Flux wanted, something Flux felt like was just for him, he did it secretly, like he had to do it secretly. There had been genuine shock on Flux’s face when Saps didn’t stop him from carving Thomas a grave.

Saps had no interest in calling him on it. 

Whenever Flux noticed that he noticed Saps just smiled at him, and acted like he didn’t care. It seemed to be working so far.

Two days later, after Flux went to carve the headstone, it was somewhat gnawing at Saps that he hadn't visited Thomas’ grave since they buried him. 

So while Flux worked on the interior of his latest addition, Saps picked some flowers and walked out to the grave. 

He snorted when he got there. 

The same stone he had put there was still there. Flux hadn’t bothered to carve an actual Gravestone, just engraved the stone that was already there. And, as Saps got closer, he realized, not very well. 

The gravestone had two words on it. Clearly, it had been planned to have at least three, and there was room below for dates that Flux had not carved in.  “Thomas” was carved above, in deep shaky letters. Below was the word “Loyal” carved, off-center to the left. The last two letter were small and not as deep as if Flux, getting frustrated he wasn't automatically good at everything, had given up partway through. There was space for another word, maybe companion, or friend, or follower, but Flux clearly gave up and decided “Loyal” was enough of a testimony. 

Saps laughed a little at the sad shape of the gravestone.

“Sorry, Thomas, I guess if you wanted a better tombstone, you should have pledged loyalty to someone who isn’t a complete egomaniac. Oh, here:” Saps tossed the flowers onto the grave.

“A year ago, I would have cursed you for your loyalty, for keeping him alive and helping him frame me. Now, I guess, thanks for keeping him alive as long as you did, and for getting him to me in one piece. I, uhh, appreciate that.” Saps finished somewhat lamely. 

“We, uhm, were sorta friends once, I think, not super close or anything, but you seemed nice enough. He needed you. Couldn’t have done it all without you, which, actually, isn’t a good thing. So. I didn’t actually really think through what I wanted to say to you. I hope it’s peaceful wherever you are. And, Uhh, I hope you’re not too mad at me, for holding onto him, making you wait. I promise I’ll take good care of him in the meantime. Or, you know, okayish care, I’m not going to bend over backwards or anything. So yeah, don’t worry about him, he’ll be okay.”

Thomas, predictably, didn’t answer. 

Chapter Text

Flux must really be losing it. 

Two days after he tried to carve a gravestone for Thomas, and an exercise that left him exhausted, angry, and feeling like a failure, Saps came home looking teary-eyed. 

Flux had walked towards him to ask him what his problem was, or if he was okay, but before he could get it out, Saps had pulled him into a tight hug, and Flux just. . . hugged him back? 

Saps had been pretty free about throwing an arm around him as they walked ever since Flux was freed. 

But now hugs? 

They became somewhat normal. Not obsessively, but if Flux was frustrated by something, or if Saps went a bit too far on the teasing, or Saps got too sad or excited about something, he’d hug him. And Flux let him? And Flux hugged him back, sometimes. Which made absolutely no sense. In what word did that make sense? 

Flux was sure he was losing it. 

Saps wasn’t sure what they would do. 

They’d finished building the renovations that Flux had planned. And they had automated the garden. Flux was working on a fish farm. Which was actually pretty funny because he kept falling in, getting soaking wet, and stocking all the way back to the house, fuming and dripping. But once he was done with that, they wouldn’t have any project. 

And Flux needed a project. 

They didn’t really argue that much anymore. Or Saps didn’t, he bickered and teased, and Flux argued. Which was still amusing. There was only so much entertainment on an island. 

But once the last project was done, Saps’ couldn’t see the peace holding. Saps wondered if it had been long enough that Flux might forget what a terrible idea it would be to try and leave the island and take over the world. 

He worried about it constantly. 

Then, around two in the morning one night, he woke up to his lamp flickering on, Flux sitting on the side of his bed holding a stack of paper. 

Sleepy, and a little more than confused Saps’ settled on saying “Flux? What-?”

“Here.”

 And Flux was shoving the papers into his hands, demanding and insistent. So Saps sat up a little more, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and looked. And looked. And spread them out across the bed, and stared. It was plan after plan for new buildings across the island, and infrastructure, and farms. There were economic plans as well, for the exportation of goods and trade. They were incredibly detailed plans. 

Flux looked determined, the kind of determined he looked when he was actually nervous. 

Saps looked at the plans again. 

“Flux, we’re just two people, we don’t need all this, don’t need to build that much.”

“But we could.” 

Saps almost laughed at that. For Flux and all his great plans and speeches, all his insistents and arguments, he went with something so simple to convince him. But he knew Flux, and Flux knew him, and he knew that’s all Saps needed.

“Yeah, we could.”

And Flux grinned at him. Not the fake one he used in politics, not the slightly more real one he used around his lackies, real but still controlled. No, this was the crooked little one he’d used back in the mines. Saps had missed that one. Missed looking at the real Flux, if only for a moment. 

Saps smiled back for a second. It was a good moment, but it was two in the morning, and Saps was tired. So he gathered the papers back up, handing them to Flux. 

“Tommorow. Right now, I’m going back to sleep.”

And he flicked the lamp off, leaving Flux to find his way out of the room in the dark. 

Saps almost didn’t laugh at the soft bump of Flux’s shoulder hitting the door frame. Almost. 

Then the exhaustion took over, and he was asleep. 

Chapter Text

The thing about Flux’s plans is they were massive. A massive amount of work that should take years to complete. Any sane person would get help. But, for them, that sort of defeated the purpose. 

Besides, Saps knew Flux was, in his head, being a little evil. Thinking about how once it was all built, up and running, they could become a major component of trade, and maybe eventually people would want to move here, and then Flux and Saps would run a little group of people, and maybe evntually they would be asked to attend local small town leader meetings, or discusions about trade and then from there. . .

He knew Cass had thought the same thing when he’d told her about their plans for the island. She’d been tactful enough not to ask outright. But Saps assured her everything was under control with a meaningful look, and she’d sighed and accepted it. 

Besides, Saps knew it would never happen, but it was better to let Flux scheme and dream. If pressed on it, Flux would agree it was impossible, but who can begrudge a man a little delusion, especially one that keeps him happy? 

So there was a weird expectation around the projects; both of them threw themselves into them with gusto, working hard and efficiently, but at the same time, they didn’t actually really want to finish them. 

So Saps kept suggesting how they could make little improvements here and there, and Flux would take a day off to draw up refreshed plans incorporating whatever Saps had come up with. 

Flux, maybe in retaliation for Saps laughing at him, had developed a bad habit. 

Whenever he had a new plan to show Saps, he’d come into his room at around two in the morning, hair ruffled, dark circles under his eyes like some sort of crazed genius, and he’d turn on Saps’ lamp and just stare at him until Saps woke up enough to look at the plans. 

“This,” Saps yelled after him one night as he was leaving, “is why I’ve never owned cats!”

It wasn’t all the time, just every couple of weeks, sometimes months. But it was enough to be annoying. Really annoying. 

Saps, one night, or early morning, really, as he woke up to the light of his lamp and a very intense purple stare, was fucking sick of it. He’s spent all day digging a ditch, alone, and he was tired. And being tired, he figured he ought to put a stop to this here and now. 

“Nope.”

“Saps, come on, take a look-“

“Nope,” Saps said again, reaching up and turning out the lamp, and then, in one swift motion, he grabbed 

Flux around the middle and pulled him close, like a teddy bear. 

Flux let out a surprised, and frankly embarrassing, squawk as he was tumbled over and pulled into the bed. The sound of papers falling to the floor accompanied the sound. 

“Saps- What!-?”

“Nope. It’s two in the morning, sleep time.”

Saps didn’t open his eyes or let go. Flux was stiff as a board, pressed up against him on the bed. Saps kept his eyes closed but kept waiting for Flux to try and fight his way free. 

Eventually, though, Flux said something that sounded, frankly, quite rude sounding, under his breath, then buried his head into Saps’ chest and relaxed. 

It was only a few minutes before Flux’s breathing changed, and he fell asleep. 

Saps woke up before Flux, and looked over the plans. 

He felt somewhat triumphant, knowing full well Flux wouldn’t wake him up again after this. 

Flux woke up to him looking at the plans, and immediately began to explain his thoughts, like nothing had happened, like he wasn't embarrassed at all. 

Saps, however, knew Flux, and he knew better. 

Saps was sure that it would work; however, Flux didn’t wake him up any less frequently, or more frequently, it was exactly the same. Saps would suggest a plan, Flux would spend a day or two working on it, not sleeping until it was done, and then he’d appear, late at night, on the side of Saps’ bed, plans in hand. 

Saps thought, originally, that if he just stuck to the plan and kept it up, Flux would eventually learn. But every time he turned the lamp off immediately and pulled Flux into the bed, and every time Flux woke up and explained the plans to him the next morning, like nothing had happened. 

He’d stopped saying anything; it wasn’t like Flux was surprised, and Flux, while he never exactly came willingly, had gotten suspiciously easier to pull into bed. And Flux, no longer shocked, didn’t bother wasting time before putting his head on Saps’ chest and falling asleep. 

No Saps plan changed nothing. Flux didn’t show up any more or any less. If Saps gave him something new to design, he could count on being woken up at two in the morning sometime within the next three days. The difference now was, he just went right back to sleep, so really, although the plan didn’t go as it should have, the same outcome was achieved. Sleep. 

Flux really didn’t give a shit.

It had been sort of embarrassing the first time, but here’s the thing: it didn’t really change anything. 

He’d never been able to sleep when he was thinking through a plan; he’d start thinking, or writing, or drawing, and it was like he was in a manic state. He had to get it done; sleep didn’t even seem like an option. And then when he was finished, he was left wired, all this energy and nowhere to put it. Not from euphoria at having finished, but from worry that maybe he’s done something wrong, that in his mania of planning, he’d missed some massive hole. And the worry would gnaw at him, and he wouldn’t be able to sleep. 

He used to drag Thomas out of his bed, in the days of the conspiracy, take him down to the bunker, and give this grand speech detailing the plan. Thomas would sit, nodding, asking questions. The first couple of times, Flux actually believed that Thomas was listening. But eventually, he caught Thomas looking over the plans the next day to get up to speed. Thomas was humoring him. And Flux let him, because he needed him too. 

But Thomas was dead, and Flux was not taking over the world; he was designing a drainage pipe for a stepped wheat field. But despite the fact the plans were not important, not life or death, not urgent, that same sense of urgency kept his mind awake. So he went and woke up Saps. And at first, Saps actually looked over the plans, then and there, something even Thomas had never done. And then he’d gotten tired of Flux’s mania that he didn’t know was mania. 

The first time he’d pulled Flux into the bed and gone back to sleep, Flux had been taken by surprise, but once the What the fuck? of it all faded, it was sort of like the firm arms around him flipped his brain back to normal, saying, “Hey dumbass, no one’s going to die if the wheat fields don't drain perfectly,” and the exhaustion that had been kept at bay only by the adrenaline finally won. 

And every time, Flux woke up to Saps already looking at the plans, and then he was able to explain them, and Saps would look them over and catch any mistakes. 

And everything was normal.  It was just routine.  Flux would come up with Saps’ plans, Flux would wake Saps up, Flux would sleep, and in the morning they’d go over the plans. 

It didn’t happen that often; most of the time, they were both working, digging, building, planting. But when it did happen, no one batted an eye; it was just what worked. 

Chapter Text

A year into the new plans, Saps asks him to design a sheep sorter. Separate the sheared sheep from the non-sheared sheep. 

Easy, simple.

Over the last few years, Flux had gotten really quite good at designing these types of things; he’d designed significantly more complex things recently. It should be easy; it was supposed to be easy. 

Flux hadn’t slept in three days. And he had nothing. 

The paper was mostly blank, with a few lines furiously scribbled out. The reservoir in his mind that was normally teaming with too many ideas had none; he couldn’t think. 

He was being awful; he knew he was being awful. He’d yelled at Saps at dinner. He couldn’t remember what, but he knew he didn’t deserve it. Flux wasn’t good, or kind, or nice, but this was getting ridiculous. He was getting nowhere, and the longer he didn’t sleep, the less likely he was to think of something. 

The same mania as always pushed at the edge, but without an idea, it had nowhere to go. 

He tried to imagine explaining it to Thomas, like that might spark an idea, but nothing came of it. And upsettingly, when he tried to imagine Thomas sitting in the bunker listening to him, his face swirled and wouldn’t settle, and Flux realized he couldn't remember exactly what he had looked like. 

On the fourth day, breakfast was tense. Flux knew he was making it tense, but the scrape of Saps’ spoon against the bowl made him want to throttle the man, and push that spoon so far down his throat that he. . . Flux took a deep breath, turned his face to the side, and tried to put his expression back to neutral. 

“Well, okay, see you later!” Saps said cheerfully. 

Flux had to take several more deep breaths to calm down again. 

Everything was fine.

Flux made the decision to eat the rest of his meal alone that day, and Saps, thankfully, did not push him on it. 

It was the middle of the night again, and Flux was lying in bed, wide awake. 

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. 

If he hadn’t been awake for four days, he would have thought of it, but he had, so he did. 

He wondered if, despite the fact that he had nothing, if sleeping in Saps’ bed would do the same thing, would let him sleep. First, he thought about taking blank paper over; it’s not like Saps would look at them tonight, but how would he explain himself in the morning?  No, that would be too embarrassing. 

Maybe if he took the old plans? No, that was stupid. Saps would remember what he was supposed to be designing. 

What if he took no papers? Pretended they were stolen in the morning.  Actually, that plan was so bad that Flux was actually embarrassed at himself that he’d even thought it.

 God, he needed to sleep. 

Maybe he shouldn’t wake Saps up at all. Maybe the thing he needed to sleep was just to go sit on Saps’ bed for a second, pretend like he had something, maybe he could trick his brain into letting him sleep?

He decided to go with that plan, no harm, no foul. 

He crept into Saps’ room silently and sat down on the edge of the bed. He didn’t turn the lamp on, that way Saps wouldn’t wake up, and just stared at the slight outline of Saps on the bed. And stared and stared and stared, waiting for the exhaustion to override the adrenaline, waiting for the mania to go away. 

Saps was asleep, but only sort of. He was in that weird between place, where he was definitely asleep, but he was awake enough to know he was asleep, and could wake himself up if he tried, although he wasn’t sure why he would try. But something in his subconscious told him he should, so begrudgingly he listened and woke himself up. Laying there, eyes closed, he noticed something, a second set of breathing. 

In the dark, his eyes could only see the slightest of outlines, at the edge of his bed, where Flux sits. 

“Flux?”

The man on the edge of the bed, Flux, went stiff. 

Oh, he hadn’t expected him to be awake. That was— odd? Did he always sit in the dark for a bit before waking Saps up? 

Saps reached up and turned on the lamp, and Flux looked. . . bad. He looked caught for one thing, and he looked embarrassed, which is weird because normally, when he was embarrassed, he acted all high and mighty to hide it. He also looked exhausted and disheveled. And then Saps noticed he wasn’t holding anything.

“You, uhh, forgot the plans, I think,” Saps said eventually

“I don’t— ” Flux stopped, face pinched, he angled his face away from Saps.

“I don’t have any.”

“Oh, okay, that’s. . . okay.” Saps thought for a second. It was late, later than usual. “Then, uhm, why are you here?”

And Flux was really, really not looking at him, and he did look embarrassed, still not in the normal way. Eventually, after a painfully long silence, Flux spoke, in almost a whisper 

“I couldn’t sleep.”

It took longer than it should have for Saps to process that. He almost asks Flux why he was there again, or what he was doing, or something. But luckily, his brain caught up just before he could ruin everything. 

“Okay.”

And he switched the lamp off, and pulled Flux into bed the way he always did. Flux was stiff for a minute, then he let out a huff, somewhere between disgruntled and relieved, before he buried his face into Saps’ chest. He was asleep almost immediately. 

The next morning, Flux was awkward in the way Saps thought he would have been the first time. With no plans to go over, Saps just went downstairs to make breakfast. When Flux arrived, he was still a little rumpled-looking and not meeting Saps’ eyes. 

“How are you feeling?” Saps asked before he could stop himself, shit, that would just make it worse. 

Flux finally looked at him, his eyes flashed in anger, like Saps was somehow the asshole for acknowledging it. He opened his mouth to say something, probably quite rude, but Saps beat him to the punch. 

“Next time, you can come by earlier, so you’re not so cranky and awful to be around for so many days.”

And somehow, that seemed to stop Flux in his tracks. He blinked. 

“Okay.”

Flux was still standoffish and brooding for the rest of the morning, but by lunch, they were back to their usual routine. 

Saps decides it was better not to ask about the sheep sorter. But about a week and a half later, Flux didn’t come out with him to dig the new field, and that night, Saps was woken up to the lamp in his room and Flux on the side of his bed, thrusting paper at him. “It was so fucking simple,” Flux said angrily, not at Saps, but at himself. 

“Nope,” Saps said as he turned the light off, listening to the papers scatter onto the floor. That was a tomorrow problem. He wasn’t sure who fell asleep faster that time, him or Flux. 

Chapter Text

Flux didn’t talk about Thomas, but he did go out to the grave somewhat frequently. Eventually, he did add a date. The day Thomas died. 

He had to ask Saps what day it was; they’d been on the run so long they’d lost track of that sort of thing. But he was careful how he asked; he asked Saps the date of when he was captured. But two days later, Saps noticed when he snuck off towards Thomas’ grave with tools. 

Flux didn’t actually know when Thomas was born. He knew that at some point he’d known his birthday, but he couldn’t seem to remember it now, and how old he was? How old would he be? Flux really didn’t know. So he stuck to the date he died. 

As for the second word, he couldn’t figure it out anymore, what he wanted to say. It should say more than loyal, but he really wasn’t sure what, so he left that too. 

So when he visits Thomas, he tells him about his plans, not the real, concrete ones, but the silly, unattainable ones that he pretends Saps doesn’t know about. They’re more interesting, and he doesn’t want Thomas thinking he’s gone domestic, all this farming and construction stuff. 

But he always feels a little guilty, looking at the stone. 

He always knew when Saps had been by; he always left flowers, the idiot. He wasn’t really sure what Saps would have to say to him; maybe he’s just making up for the fact that Thomas had one mourner, and they were bad at it. 

And he was, bad at it, couldn’t remember his birthday, couldn’t remember his face anymore, couldn’t even work up the courage to call him a friend on a shitty little rock. 

Saps was always nicer to him when he visited Thomas’ grave. He wasn’t sure how he could always tell. They didn’t keep tabs on each other when they weren’t working together, and Flux never went on the days they were working together. He was beginning to suspect Saps could just tell by looking at his face, and he hated that, the idea that he could be so obvious. But it was Saps, and Saps knew him, and he knew Saps. Maybe it wasn’t obvious. Maybe it was just obvious to Saps.

It was on one of those days, they were eating dinner together quietly, and it occurred to Flux. 

He was lonely. He had always had a posy, and outside of that, he was around, talking with people, scheming, yes, but talking, giving speeches in Luminara, going to meetings. 

Saps saw Cass sometimes, even saw Schpood the once, but it had been nearly two years now since Flux had talked to someone besides Saps. 

And Saps, Saps was his own category, he knew Flux too well to count as people.

“When we start exporting stuff, negotiating trade, I want to be involved.”

Saps looked up at him, clearly ready to stop whatever scheme Flux had thought of before he could get it off the ground. He knew Saps knew that he was pretending he could take back some political power with this. 

“I don’t want to be in charge, I just want to get off the island sometimes, talk to people.” There must be something in the way he said it, or the fact he’d said it at all, that made Saps believe him.

“Yeah, I agree, it’ll be good to get off the island sometime. But you know, trade is years off.”

Flux felt like he had revealed his hand for nothing. What a stupid thing to have said. 

“But I heard there’s a new town, not far from across the north shore. We should go soon, as self-sustaining as this place is, we could use a couple of things, barter a little, you know, for the non-essentials that could be nice.”

Fuck. Saps really could read him these days. 

“Yeah, that could be alright.” 

Flux tried to sound nonchalant. He looked down at his plate when he ate. 

Chapter Text

Taking Flux off the island had been a terrible idea. Mostly because he was an internationally hated terrorist, but also because he hadn’t really interacted with normal people since everyone had found out he was an international terrorist. 

No, Flux wasn’t an asshole everywhere, to everyone all the time; he just wasn’t a particularly warm person, and he was, perhaps clinically, allergic to apologizing. 

So while he wasn’t rude to anyone, he talked like he always did, a bit cold, and, occasionally, like he was pretty sure he knew better than you. Which, when you’re the most hated man alive, isn’t a very smart decision. 

As much as Saps would like to say the day started well, it hadn’t.  From the moment they arrived in the town, Saps noticed the glares. He considered asking Flux to at least take off the coat, but realistically, he’d just cause a scene, which was the last thing Saps needed today. 

The real problem started at a glassblower’s stall in the market. Flux had asked him what the price of something was, and when the shopkeeper answered, Flux thanked him. It wasn’t rude, or even condescending, surprisingly; it was just Flux. And when he’d been a political figure, a leader, a guy whose face wasn't synonymous with the term “war criminal,” no one would have batted an eye. But these people already hated him, so this “thank you” in a cool tone was taken as poorly as it possibly could be. 

When the man pushed a finger into Flux’s face and started yelling that he shouldn’t even be alive, let alone free, and that he should kiss the glassblower’s feet just for being willing to talk to him, Flux mostly just looked disgruntled, but Saps could see a glint of anger in his eyes. He looked over at Saps as if to ask, “Can you believe this guy?” and Saps shrugged back as if to say, “Yeah, actually, makes sense.”

Eventually, the man stopped yelling, and Flux was still standing there looking back, impassive. 

“Well, aren’t you going to say anything? Fucking apologize!”

And while Saps was wondering what Flux was supposed to be apologizing for, the terrorism or saying “Thank you,” Flux decided to make the whole thing worse. 

In the least sincere and most monotone way possible, Flux opened his mouth and said, “Sorry for existing.” Before blinking boredly at the man. And then Flux had the absolute gall to look surprised when the glass bottle was thrown at him. 

The crowd that had begun to amass around them wasn’t much of a fan of his reply either. People were shouting; the glass bottle had just barely missed Flux’s head. Saps decided it was time to go. 

Grabbing Flux by the upper arm, he began to steer him away, through the little crowd, but then someone grabbed Flux by the collar of his coat, pulling him back. Flux instinctively reached back, prying their hand off. 

Unfortunately, she'd been pulling with her whole weight and fell. The crowd, incensed, began to shout that Flux had pushed her, which then turned into ‘Flux attacked her,’ and calls for violence. Saps wasn’t quite sure what else as he had taken off in a sprint, Flux in tow, the moment that girl fell. 

Unfortunately, many people, somewhat rightfully, now assume that if Fluxion was running away from shouting, he must have done something, and should probably be caught. 

Within less than an hour of arriving at the trade outpost turned village, Flux and Saps were on the run, an angry mob at their heels. 

At this point, Saps and Flux were both pros at being chased. It didn’t take them long to lose the mob.  Unfortunately, their boat had been smashed by the time they got to the docks, and the docks are being watched, so they were forced inland, evading anyone they saw, just in case. 

At some point, Saps said, “Kinda fun to be doing this together.”

Causing Flux to laugh for the sheer surprise of it. 

Saps led them in the general direction of the Cass Coalition,  he figured if they ran into people, that at least they’d be less likely to try and kill them unprovoked. 

It was weird, the sort of cautious way they were moving, staying in shadows and avoiding areas of high visibility, avoiding anyone alive, keeping their head down so people wouldn’t notice their faces. 

Saps supposed he probably didn’t need to move like that, but it was almost second nature at this point. It was startling how easy it was for him to slip back into it, like he never left, like he never stopped running. Not really. 

Flux had, thankfully, finally had the epiphany to take his jacket off, balled up in his arms as he ran. It would have made more sense to leave it, but Flux wouldn’t. As cool and collected, as unattached and logical as he acted, Flux was never going to get rid of that godforsaken coat. 

They slept in the middle of the woods that night. They slept on Saps’ cloak near the base of a tree, just behind a bush. Flux had somewhat uselessly thrown his coat over them; it didn’t cover their legs, and Saps had a sneaking suspicion that if anyone were to find them like this, they’d be too busy laughing at the sight to kill them, which was its own kind of defense, he supposed. 

It was cold, and the ground was not particularly comfortable, but he was used to it. He expected Flux to complain, but he didn’t; he supposed he must be used to it too now. 

They woke up just before morning. The thing you don’t find out until you’ve slept outside a few times is that the cold will wake you up, just before the sunrise. They woke up and, without saying a word, they got up and started moving. 

They’d been traveling for about an hour, the light was just starting to look like morning, when the thought occurred to Saps. 

“Flux, do we have a plan?”

Flux stopped. 

“Uhh. No.”

Saps wondered if this was the first time Flux hadn’t had a plan, or if the year he spent on the run with Thomas was like this, too. 

“Well, shit. We should probably. . .”

“I mean, we’re already heading towards the Cass Coalition, you’re friends, right? She can get us a boat and we can take the water home.”

Okay, yeah, solid plan, simple, basically what was going to happen anyway. Saps knew he’d been good at thinking on his feet. It just hadn't occurred to him how easy it was to forget he didn’t need to anymore. 

They kept moving after that. And now that the adrenaline of being on the run again had dissipated a bit, he realized how hungry he was. He wondered how far until they reached the Cass Coalition.

Not long, it turned out. They trampled through the woods, eventually spilling out into a farming area. They had to walk through it to keep going towards the Coalition; no more tree cover. They’d made it about half across one field when a pair of soldiers, guards now, Saps supposed, approached them. Saps recognized the uniform, the exact people they were looking for. But Flux, who had put his coat back on, instinctively pulled it tighter around him and angled his face down. 

“Excuse me, what are you all doing out he- Saps?’

“Hey! Good morning to you both.”

“What are you doing out here? I heard you didn’t leave the island anymore since- “

And as if the mention of him made him appear, the guard finally seemed to notice who exactly was standing next to Saps. Saps laughed, like it was easy and casual, drawing attention back to himself. 

“Funny story that, we sort of got attacked and had to run inland to stay safe. We were kinda hoping Cass would be able to lend us a boat to get home.”

“You were attacked!?” The other guard piped up, “What happened?”

“I was there,” Flux added, helpfully, flatly, clearly in response to her. 

“What did you do?” 

“Be there.” Flux didn’t bother to make himself any more likable again, and Saps really wanted to shake him. Luckily, the first guard just said”

“Sounds about right. Sorry you got caught up in this, Saps. Come on, we can take you to Cass.”

Chapter Text

The walk into the heart of the Cass Coalition was odd. A lot of people came up to chat with Saps, a lot of people glared at Flux, some of them were the same people, some stuck to one lane or the other. But the weird thing was the sense of pity Saps got when he talked to people, like Flux had done something to him, recently, like he was being held hostage but was beyond help or something. It was uncanny and deeply uncomfortable. 

Flux stayed close to his right, about a half a step behind; he’d never looked more like a shadow. Every once in a while, he’d snort or mutter something to himself. Saps decided he didn’t need to know what. 

When they reached the capital building, they were led inside. News must have reached Cass first, as she was quickly there to greet them. Giving Saps a hug and offering them food. The three of them sat down and ate breakfast together. Which shouldn’t be weird, the three of them had often been alone together on Saps Island, but now that he thought about it, Cass and Flux had never actually interacted, besides one notable exception in the basement. 

Flux, for the first time in a while, did something that shocked him. When food was put in front of him, he looked Cass in the eye and thanked her. A genuine thanks. Not the kind that gets a glass bottle thrown at you. 

When Cass asked what happened, at first Saps had explained by saying they’d gone to town and Flux forgot everyone already hated him, so he’d been Flux about it. Cass nodded sagely, like she understood exactly what he meant. Flux reached over, hitting his shoulder, glaring at him. 

Saps sighed and explained the situation, how quickly it had turned violent. Cass listened, somewhat concerned, somewhat horrified, but that might have been over the speed and amount of food Flux and he were shoveling into their mouths. 

“Christ, have you not eaten?”

“No, we didn’t have any food on us. Besides, I wasn’t that hungry at first; that kind of goes away with the adrenaline when you’re on the run.”

Cass got an odd look in her eye. 

“Saps.” She said carefully. “You were never on the run; you could have gone to any nation for help, you’re welcome in the home of every nation’s leader, regardless of whether or not Fluixon got a bottle thrown at him.”

Oh, right, yeah, no one was after him. 

“Nah,” Flux cut in then, “He could go anywhere, but he had me with him, that complicates things. Sure, we could show up in any nation, but who’s to say if we’d still be in one piece by the time their leaders heard about it? Me because they want me dead, Saps because he’s in close proximity. Could have been ugly.” 

For the first time since she held a sword to his throat in Luminara, Cass and Flux made eye contact. 

“Yeah, well, Saps is always safe here.” 

And Saps couldn’t help but notice how intentionally Flux had been left out of that equation despite being the person addressed. Flux clearly noticed too, because he laughed a little. 

“I’m sure he appreciates that.”

“So!” Cass clapped her hands together and looked back at Saps. “A boat then?”

“That would be amazing, Cass. We’d really appreciate it.”

“Of course, Saps, did you want to leave right away or stay for a bit?”

“We wouldn’t mind a room for the night. We didn’t get much sleep last night. I’d like to be a bit more well-rested before sailing home.”

“Of course.” Cass was looking at him again, and Saps got the impression she wanted to say something to him, but not in front of Flux. 

“Just one room?” She blurted. 

“Yeah, that way I can keep an eye on this one, make sure he doesn’t Flux up the situation, start another riot,” Saps said, gesturing to Flux, grinning. 

Flux, very pointedly, rolled his eyes. 

Saps had fallen asleep pretty immediately after breakfast, or lunch, it was hard to tell. 

Flux had slept better than Saps the night before, helped to have something to rest his head on besides the ground. 

So instead, he was poking around the new mansion, Cass’s home that doubled for a capital building. Currently, he was poking through a stack of papers on the desk of what was clearly some sort of clerk. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Cass’s voice was sharp. And if he hadn’t been the master of snooping in his previous life as a respectable member of society, he might have jumped. Instead, he stood up slowly, lazily raising his hands by his shoulders in mock surrender. 

“Nothing worth calling the army over, Cass.”

“So if I called the guard in here and told them to arrest you for disturbing government documents, you’d say my claim was an outrage?” Cass said as she stopped in front of him, less than a yard away. 

Flux got the distinct impression she was making fun of him. 

“No, but it probably wouldn't be worth the hassle, doesn’t seem like they’re particularly important documents, this one,” he said, pulling a random paper from the bunch, “is about a neighborhood dispute over. . . ” Flux narrowed his eyes as he read it before reporting, “their neighbor’s cat is meowing too loudly? Shit, Cass, you should make some sort of regulation where people get arrested if their complaints are too petty.”

“Oh? Is that what you did in Luminara?”

“Hmm? Oh, no, no need, different culture, hard workers and dreamers don’t complain about meowing cats, I suppose.”

“Or you had them so scared about the other island that they didn’t bother you with normal life stuff.”

“Or that.” Flux agreed cheerfully, leaning back against the desk he’d been snooping in. 

Cass let out a frustrated breath. “You know, when Saps decided to take you in, I was really hoping he’d decide to kill you himself. Thought that’s where it was heading for a while.”

“I know. I told him to, but the stubborn bastard refused.” 

Cass paused for a second at that. 

“You told him to kill you?”

“Figured it was either he killed me, or Schpood killed us both, told him to get on with it already, that he needed to make a choice, either free me, which we both knew he couldn’t, or kill me. You know what the asshole did? He fucking let me out and told me I could do what I wanted? Isn’t that crazy?”

Cass wasn’t sure if Flux was lying or not. 

He wasn’t meeting her eyes, which, after thinking over several years of conspiracy, she had come to the conclusion that when Flux lied, he held himself straight, stiff, like the paragon of authority, almost daring you to call him on it, like he wanted you to, so he could make you feel small and stupid. Cass wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen him tell the truth, with the exception maybe, of the very first meeting when he’d stood up on the table and yelled at them all, fists clenched, that they were all in danger. She wondered if this was what Flux being personal, being truthful, looked like. A false casual lean, a little too stiff to seem convincing, and eyes anywhere but looking at her. 

If he was telling the truth, why was he telling her this? Did he want her to like him? Not likely. No, that wasn’t what he was trying to say. He was trying to say, “I know why you hate me, and I don't blame you for that anymore.” He was saying, “I don’t want anything bad to happen to him either.” 

It was funny how little and how much had changed about Flux. Still the same stiff little asshole that couldn't concede a point to save his life. But the rest, maybe, he had changed in the important ways. Just a little. It didn’t mean she liked him, or forgave him. But maybe she could worry about Saps a little less from now on. 

“Well, that’s Saps, always a little crazy, but he’s got a good heart.”

“Too good. Gets him into trouble.”

“Not really, just when it comes to you.” 

Flux looked at her then, a little surprised and a little confused, if she was reading him right, it was hard to tell; he was so good at keeping a mask down. 

“Saps said you’ve come up with most of the plans around the island, came up with the trade ideas too.”

“Just keeping busy.”

“Not too busy, I hope?”

“Look, a mob of angry people just tried to kill me for asking the price of a set of glasses. I don’t think you have to worry about me manipulating the people around the island; they’ve made their position pretty clear.”

“That was one group.”

“That was an entire town, within a matter of seconds. If they’re that quick to decide to kill me, I’ve got to assume it would be the same anywhere. I’m sure half your citizens would love to rip me apart if given the slightest nod from you.”

And wasn’t that just like Fluixon? To take one bad opinion, one bad experience, one bad rumor, and project it onto the whole world. 

“Oh, more than half. But come on, you’re you, you haven’t thought about using Saps for that?”

Flux snorted, “He’s not actually an idiot, you know? He’d be onto me in seconds. He knows me too well to fall for it.”

“Fell for it last time, didn’t he?”

“And then he learned better. And then he spent the last few years living with me in close quarters. He knows me, and I know him. It wouldn’t work.”

“There are other types of manipulation, you know.”

“What? Are you trying to talk me into manipulating him?”

“No, I just noticed you two are sharing a room?”

Flux stared back at her dully, not a modicum of understanding projected on his face. Not because he didn’t get the insinuation, but because he was pretending he didn’t, and he wasn’t going to entertain this topic of conversation. 

Cass gave up. She knew when a wall had been thrown up, you don’t get this far in politics if you don’t. 

“So what are the plans?”

“Well, once we’re done with the construction, we’ll have enough surplus from the automated farm to trade with local towns and villages, be nice to have a bit of money, and it’s something to do, keep us from going mad out there.

And Cass got the impression she was both being lied to and told the unbridled truth. For the first time, she tried to imagine Flux, not the evil villain version, but the whole man, living on an island with nothing to do. And she realized he would go mad if he hadn’t come up with something to do. Some plan to complete something substantial. 

Besides, it wasn't hurting anyone, she supposed, as long as Saps was happy. And maybe this was good, gave Saps something to do, some purpose, he’d lacked that after the war. Maybe this weird little mania that he and Flux were living could be that. 

Cass decided she would stop trying to subtly talk Saps into killing him. It was probably too late for that now anyway. 

Chapter Text

Later, after Saps had woken up for dinner, he’d spent a few hours hanging out with Cass while Flux sculked about, bothering minor government officials to his heart’s content. She’d updated him on all the major changes of the world, and all the little ones that she knew he would care about.

The Luminarins, booming from trade and growing in numbers, had had a group split off from them. Not due to malcontent, but rather, now that peace was firmly established between the two islands, a group had taken to the ocean, looking further to see if there were more lands beyond. 

Saps wondered what Flux would think about this and resolved to mention it to him casually sometime back on the island if things got a little too quiet. Saps could hear the angry spluttering and professions of Luminarian idiocy already. He grinned.

Cass promised to keep him updated on the subject before telling him the latest from Westhelm. Schpood’s memorial to Spyder had somehow accidentally turned into a spot where couples proposed to each other. Cass thought it was because it was a monument to devotion. Saps liked the idea; it was sweet in a way, a little morbid and odd, but then again, these were the people who fought to the death in an arena instead of having trials. 

The only real worrying thing Cass told him was that a new small group had gone up the Volcana. While outwardly they called themselves the Nature Preservers, rumors had spread that internally they called themselves The Daughters of Infernus and had a cultlike organization. 

Somewhere in the middle of her telling him about this new group, Flux had come in and flopped down on the couch next to Saps, listening as Cass explained about this new Cult. 

“If they’re actually just Infernus again, you’ll be fine,” Flux added. He sounded bored again, like he knew something they didn’t. And Saps supposed maybe this time, he did. 

“What are you talking about? Infernus was violent and dangerous.”

“Only if you messed with their land, and the Volcano’s been stripped clean, no one mines there anymore, no one will want to trespass, and as long as you don’t mess with their land, they have no issues.”

“They put a hit out on Lingulini, had him and his people killed.” Cass sounded irritated at the discussion

“Mhm, after he opened their land for international mining, and then left them to deal with it.” Flux folded his arms.

“It was his land too!”

“Why open the land and immediately abandon it? He didn’t care about the land; he just wanted Cynikka to have to watch people strip it bare.”

“Fine, if Cynikka was such a good person, why did she take in the Commonwealth? Why did she take in you?”

“And the Covenant, you know Saps, the people that protected you to their own detriment? Slaughtered by Schpood.” 

Saps wasn't enjoying this conversation very much. Didn’t really enjoy being looped into it.

“Besides, what was actually wrong with the Commonwealth? They were a bit stupid, but did they really do anything wrong?”

“They were harboring a political fugitive!”

“Oh no! Not a political fugitive! We should all turn those over to be executed right now!” Flux gestured vaguely to Saps as he replied to Cass sarcastically. 

“Fine! Let’s say there was nothing wrong with taking in the Commonwealth or the Covenant. But what about you?”

“Cynikka knew she was about to be invaded, for trying to protect her homeland, and for a hit that many nations were complicit in, not just Elysium. And she knew I was smart, and knew how to build traps, and she wanted to be able to protect her people. Everything else was just hearsay from another island. Why speculate on who was lying, me or Saps, when you have bigger things to worry about?” 

“She was a tyrant!”

“So is Schpood, you just like him better.”

Cass snorted, “Forgive me for not taking your political opinions as true. The hit on Lingulini-“

“What do you think about it Saps?”

“Huh?”

“You were there, right? When the Covenant decide to kill Lingulini? Do you think it was worth fighting over?”

“Uhhh, I never really thought about it. I had bigger things to worry about at the time.”

They’d never really talked about any of this, not besides vague jokes and digs at each other. Certainly not the politics of it, or this particular time period. They’d never talked about regret or reflection. And here was Fluixon just as assertive, curt, and sharp as he had always been, talking about politics, like nothing had changed, like he’d never been wrong. And Saps realized suddenly, Fluixon had never actually said that he thought he was wrong. Being willing to die and being sorry for how things happened was not the same as believing he was wrong. 

Saps really didn’t like this conversation anymore. 

“Look,” Cass cut in, “Schpood wanted to kill the Commonwealth. Some of the minor groups on the island wanted to kill Cynikka and the Covenant. And we all wanted to kill you. Everybody wanted someone dead, that’s just how it went.”

“Cynikka didn’t really want to kill anyone, nor did Sitz Krieg, nor did the Covenant.”

“Yes, because they’d killed them already! As had you!”

“All I’m saying is we weren’t the ones who declared war.”

“No, you just spent years warmongering and killing people!”

“I did, certainly, but not the rest of them.” 

“Okay!” Saps was done with this. “This conversation is going to get us nowhere! It’s in the past; talking about it won’t change it.”

Fluixon snorted and mumbled, “Mediator.” 

At the same time, Cass said, “Is that what you do, Saps? Ignore it and move on?” It was cutting, and meaner than Cass would normally have spoken to him; her brain hadn’t switched from Flux mode before she’d said it. 

The silence that followed was pretty awkward for everyone. 

Cass was embarrassed that she’d said that. 

Flux was beginning to worry that this would change things, that Saps would realize he’d made a mistake, that Flux had gotten too comfortable, and it was a mistake. 

Saps had been suddenly confronted with several things he didn’t want to think about, things he hadn’t even thought to think about in the perfectly curated little life he and Flux had been living. 

“Well,” Fluixon’s voice was careful, like he was navigating a bomb defusal, “All I meant to say was you don’t have to worry about war or anything with this new group. They’ll probably keep to themselves. Nothing to worry about.” 

“Right, yeah, that’s probably true.” Cass still sounded a little regretful. She slowly broke into more little world updates, nothing big. A couple of times, it was clear Fluixon wanted to add something, but then his eyes would flick over to Saps, and he wouldn’t. 

Saps spent the rest of the conversation nodding and mhmming at the information Cass shared. 

Fluixon spent the next twenty minutes or so watching quietly, eyes flickering over to Saps, before he stood and left the room. 

Saps knew he was leaving intentionally, so he and Cass could talk without Fluixon there. Which, maybe was signs of change, maybe wasn’t. Saps wasn’t really sure at the moment. 

Cass finished her world update before she broached the subject. But she didn’t say what Saps thought she would. 

“I’m sorry, I was out of line with that comment to you. I know it’s not true, I know you’ve spent time on this and didn’t just ignore it. And I shouldn’t have picked a fight with Flux, his just so - urghh, he’s so Flux! You know?”

“No, I, you might be right.”

“About the politics of it all? Definitely. About what I said to you? Probably not.” 

Dinner was awkward, as is to be expected. Fluixon, weirdly, made idle chat with Cass about local government issues. Of course, they were topics Fluixon could only know about from snooping through people’s desks and bothering government clerks, but neither Cass nor he acknowledged that, and instead politely discussed things like ditch construction on the west side of the city. 

Saps want to pull his hair out. 

When they go to bed, Saps begins to regret the whole one-room thing. Every time they’d shared a bed, Saps had pulled Flux close to him, and they’d gone to sleep like that. Tonight, he didn't; he turned his back to Fluixon and stayed as far away from him as possible. 

“Saps.”

He ignored it.

“Saps.”

Nope.

“Saps.”

“Saps.”

“Saps.”

Then he heard a sigh and felt Fluixon grabbing at him until he was on his back. Saps kept looking at the wall. 

“Oh for Fucks sake-!”

And the Fluixon tried a new approach to get Saps to look at him. He climbed on top of him, straddling his hips, leaning forward, putting his weight into his hands on Sap’s chest, glaring down at him intensely. 

“Saps.”

“What!?” Saps finally looked at him, glaring back at him. 

“Look, I’m sorry.”

Woah. 

“I’m sorry, okay? I wasn’t talking about us. I wasn’t defending my actions. I was defending Cynikka; she took me in and protected me, and I was defending her. Not me. Okay? Look-” Flux let out a sigh. “Even if I’m not entirely sure that I was wrong about the politics of it all, I know I was wrong for what I did to you. Okay? I was wrong, and I’m sorry.” 

Flux was staring down at him, incredibly intensely, to see if what he’d said took. Saps had been floored at first; this wasn’t the kind of thing Flux did, not really. An apology was one thing, unlikely, but possible, but admitting he was wrong? 

At some point, it occurred to Saps that Flux was still on top of him. It also occurred to Saps that Flux was a little desperate for Saps to forgive him. Saps reached up, grabbing Flux at the hips so he would stay in place, and then Saps flipped them. 

Flux’s back hit the bed, and Saps leaned down over him, grinning. Flux looked, completely surprised, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. 

“You’re sorry?” Saps asked

“Wha-? Yes, I’m sorry.”

“And you were wrong?”

“Yes, I’m wrong.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

Saps grinned and flopped back onto the bed. Flux lay there for a bit, eyes still wide, frozen, staring at the ceiling. Saps let out a little breath, laughing at him, before he took pity and pulled him closer. 

“Go to sleep, Flux, it’s fine.” 

Flux loosened a bit, burying his face in Saps’ chest, and they sleep. 

What? What? What? What!? What!? What!!? 

What the hell was that?

And why was Saps so casual about it? 

And why the hell did Flux freeze like that? 

What the fuck? 

Flux thought briefly about his first conversation with Cass. 

But okay, sharing a bed every now and then with a friend was normal, and hugging was normal, especially with a guy like Saps, most friends wrapped a hand around their buddy’s shoulders as they walked. That meant nothing.

It was just a bit of roughhousing, play fighting, it didn’t mean anything, it didn’t matter. 

Flux hadn’t thought about it; he’d just wanted Saps to stop ignoring him. 

And Saps had just wanted the upper hand. That’s all. That’s all.

Right. Yeah, everything’s fine. Normal. 

It didn’t mean anything.

Chapter Text

Except maybe it did? 

The sail home had been fairly uneventful. Saps seemed in a good mood. He had ever since Flux apologized. And Flux was ignoring the fact he’d apologized, and was just enjoying the fact his argument with Cass hadn’t ruined everything. Flux was enjoying them being back to normal. Completely. 

Except when they got home, they were both incredibly tired. And after dinner, as they walked upstairs, Saps flung an arm around Flux, and then, when they passed Flux’s bedroom, Saps pulled Flux with him, and into his room, and into bed, and he pulled Flux against him and went to sleep. 

Flux, being incredibly tired, went to sleep, but not before thinking to himself that this was information he needed to catalog to himself later, factor into the equation. 

After that, it just kept happening. At night, they’d go upstairs together, and arm flung around his shoulder, Saps would steer him into his bedroom. 

The only exceptions were when Flux was drawing up a design or plan, and wasn’t sleeping, but he ended up back in Saps’ bed at the end of that anyway. 

Okay. So, fewer friends shared a bed every night when there were two perfectly good bedrooms. But that didn’t mean it meant something. 

Then one night, as Saps wrapped his arms around Flux, pulling him closer, one of his hands ended up slightly under Flux’s shirt, fingers against the skin at his waist. Saps didn’t seem to notice. Flux lay there for an hour thinking about it. 

That was just a mistake, right? Saps didn’t even notice?

Shit. 

Saps didn’t ever say anything, and Flux couldn't acknowledge it, which made everything rather difficult. Everything else was normal, Saps was normal, and the work was normal. It was just for the last three months they’d been sleeping in the same bed. Which was — odd. 

Flux had no idea what to do with this. 

Flux was acting odd, Saps thought. 

It was about four months after they got home, and he’d been somewhat awkward all day. 

Then the next day, he kept looking at Saps, like he was running some sort of experiment, and he was trying to interpret the results. 

Then, Saps noticed, he started touching him more. Just little things, a hand on the shoulder as he leaned over to look at something, his hand touched Saps as he handed him something. Little meaningless touches, only, he was staring at Saps, silently, as if to catalog a reaction. Saps was confused.

Beyond this new weird behavior of Flux’s, Saps was feeling pretty good. Change was slow but inevitable, and Flux was an ever-so-slightly better person now. Saps wouldn’t call him good, just better. And the projects were going well. 

Cass came by to visit more often, and the three of them could actually share a meal together without Saps having to worry about it coming to fisticuffs. 

Saps had had a nice chat with the second guard when they were in the Cass Coalition, and now, every once and a while, she stopped by too. 

Cass had kept them up to date on the Daughters of Infernus. And for once, Saps was glad to hear that Flux was right. They were an insular little group, but they had caused no fights and stuck to stewarding their mountain. 

As for the Luminaran group, Cass reported failure after failure to find other islands. 

Saps had told Flux about it one night. Saps had been painting wood strips all day, which had been incredibly boring, and he figured he could use some entertainment. 

But Flux hadn’t started yelling about Luminara’s foolishness or how that was inviting war or any of the things Saps thought he would. 

“I hope they find one. Wouldn’t that be nice? To go somewhere where no one knows our faces?”

That night, as he was laying in bed, Flux almost asleep in his arms, Saps decided he was incredibly pleased with that response, and, somewhat subconsciously, planted a kiss on top of Flux’s head. 

Flux had decided to try and figure it out. The kiss had been the final straw. The experiments so far had not been a success; after months of watching it was clear Saps did not seem to react to Flux’s subtle touches, so clearly he’d have to try harder. 

So when they hugged, Flux would lean further into him, tucking his face into Saps’ neck. 

Sometimes when they were standing, Flux would lean on him, pressing against him. 

When they were sitting and looking at something, Flux sat down across his lap, acting impervious, like this was normal, daring Saps to say something. 

But he didn’t. He just hugged Flux tighter, or wrapped an arm around his waist and kept talking. 

And eventually, after time and time of trying to understand what any of it meant, just like the little touches, it stopped being an experiment and just became part of the catalog of touch between them. It just became normal. 

Flux thought, secretly, that living together in such isolation on an island must have been making them insane. 

It didn’t seem to occur to him that he could have just stopped doing it. 

Chapter Text

Saps developed a habit, at first, it was kisses on the top of Flux’s hair when they were in bed. Just a kiss on top of his head when Saps was particularly pleased with how the day had gone, or something Flux had said. 

Then the kiss on the top of the head migrated into their hugs during the daytime. 

And then it turned into a kiss on whatever part of Flux’s face was closest when he did something that was categorically Not Evil, or verging on good. Then it was things that made Saps happy, and then it was whenever Saps was especially happy. 

The first day Saps kissed him on the lips, they’d been bickering again.  Saps was bothering Flux on purpose, and he clearly had gotten to him because Flux snapped, shouting at him. 

Saps figured he’d pushed too far, so he wrapped his arms around Flux to pull him into a hug. 

Except Flux did something unexpected, he mumbled, “Sorry, I didn’t mean that.” 

And Saps, unthinking, leaned forward and placed a kiss on Flux’s lips. 

He leaned back, grinning a little. Flux apologizing was nice. 

Flux wasn’t grinning, though. He was staring, his eyes wide, wider than Sap had seen before. Then they narrowed, and Flux moved towards him so fast that Saps thought for a second he was under attack. He went stiff until he realized he was not under attack, but rather Flux’s hands were on the back of his neck, and his lips were pressing insistently against his. And Saps relaxed, wrapping his arms tighter around Flux’s waist, and kissed him back. 

They don’t talk about it, but they do let it become a habit.

Saps noticed that Flux also developed a habit, maybe because it had worked the first time, maybe because he was curious. 

Sometimes when Saps was ignoring him at night, he’d crawl on top of him, straddling his hips, putting his weight on his hands on Saps’ chest.  Saps annoyingly found it was very hard to ignore Flux when he did that. He did find it a bit funny that if he flipped them over, Flux would go all flustered and quiet. 

A few months after he kissed Flux for the first time, he was ignoring Flux, trying to sleep, while Flux was trying to complain to him about how the dogs they got to guard the sheep weren’t listening to him as quickly as he would like them to.

Saps, of course, had heard all this, but pretended not to. So Flux, never content to be ignored, decided to get Saps’ attention. 

When Sap finally opened his eyes to Flux, sitting on him, leaning over him, grinning, as he opened his mouth to repeat his complaints, he thought to himself that he really had no interest in hearing Flux complain twice, or get what he wanted. So Saps grabbed Flux’s hips and flipped their bodies, fairly easily, and as Flux’s back hit the bed and, predictably, Flux’s eyes went wide, a thought occurred to Saps. 

Why not combine habits? 

Flux didn’t protest the kiss, actually, he seemed fairly enthusiastic about it. 

Saps had a lot of good ideas that night. There were better things in life, he decided, than sleep. 

At some point, wrapped up in Saps’ arms, listening to him breathe, Flux admitted, internally, and only internally, that this probably wasn't the way friends normally acted. 

He decided not to consider it beyond that point. 

Chapter Text

The next few years continued on, project after project, visits from Cass, and a slow-growing group of other friends willing to put up with Flux would stop by to visit. Saps began trade negotiations with the local villages. 

Cass, of course, noticed fairly early on that when she stayed the night, Saps and Flux slept in the same room. When she pointed it out one night over dinner, Saps just grinned at her and told her he was just making sure Flux couldn’t get up to any scheming in the dead of night. But really, it was Flux’s flustered expression and attempt to angle his face away from Cass that had caused her to laugh. 

She told Saps that while she thought he was insane, she hoped he was happy. And she told Flux that she knew he was insane, but hopefully not insane enough to ruin all the things that had gone right in his life over the last few years. 

It was the most direct conversation they ever had on the subject. 

Trade was soon up and running on the island, and, in the end, Saps had to be the only one dealing with trade deals in person. Flux could write up a plan, but Saps had to present it like it was one of his own, or the local villages wouldn’t accept it. 

Business boomed, and upkeep and trade were a full-time job for Flux, but he was growing tired of hiding when people came to meetings or toured the farms. He was tired of hearing Saps’ awkward laugh when people asked if it was true that Fluixon was here. 

It seemed, years down the line, he had become some sort of boogeyman to the younger generations. People who had been teens during the war only knew about him by the way people spoke, and had made him some evil shadow descending on the lands in their heads. 

One person had even asked Saps if Flux touched the crops or if that would pollute them?

Sure, running and optimizing their island was something to do; they each had their role in it. But it was somewhat monotonous, and he was tired of having to avoid anyone except the few visitors who treated him civilly. 

He was tired of being confined to their little island. 

It was night, and they were sitting outside on the stairs, watching the sky, Flux leaning into Saps, Saps’ arm around him. 

“Do you ever wish we could just go?”

“Go?”

“Somewhere else, do something else, be someone else.”

“I try not to think about that type of stuff.”

It was quiet for a minute

“But yeah, sometimes I do.”

Chapter Text

Four years after the island became fully functional, almost a decade after Saps caught Flux on the beach, almost a decade after Thomas died, Cass stopped by and stayed for dinner. 

“It looks amazing here, as always.”

“Well, you know, hard work and no play,” Flux said liltingly

Cass laughed. “I don’t believe that for a second!”

It was a nice day, hot out, but the wind cut it down to warm. Cass laughed at them as they bickered while making dinner, Flux and her joked about the frustrations of economics and bookkeeping. 

Cass updated them on her personal life with a soft smile. Updated them on island politics, nothing to worry about. Except a couple got married at Spyders memorial, and Schpood got fed up and banned engagements or marriage within 100 feet of the memorial. This caused people to mark the perimeter of 100 yards, and now people are getting married just outside it. Saps and Flux both laugh at this. Saps was just getting up to refill their drinks when Cas said it. 

“Oh, I also forgot to tell you the most exciting news!” 

Their cheeks were all a bit flushed, and Saps smiled as he topped up their goblets. 

“Those Luminaran explorers! They found it!” 

Saps watched out of the corner of his eye as Flux went still, his eyes went from slightly glazed over to piercing, the lazy smile on his face disappeared. 

Cass didn’t seem to notice as she continued, “They’ve established contact, a third island! And it’s massive, apparently, they’re eager to establish contact, maybe trade. Or at least the nations they’ve come into contact with are. Anyways, exciting times, the map’s expanding boys!!” 

Cass grinned, and when she looked over at Flux, he was grinning too, like he never even stopped. But Saps can tell it was a put-on expression. 

Later that night, Cass crashed in one of the many spare rooms they’ve built over the years. But Flux didn’t come up to bed, instead, he walked outside, down to the beach, and off in the direction of Thomas’ grave. 

When he came back, it was late, very late. Saps sat on the stairs outside waiting for him. 

He stood there, a few steps down in front of Saps for a minute. 

“Saps, did you mean it, that I was free?”

It had been years and years since Saps let him out of the cell, permanently, told him he could do as he wanted. As far as he knew, that had never been in question. 

“Of course, Flux.”

“And if I wanted to leave?”

“Then you would be free to go.”

They stood there, in the dark, for a long time, just looking at each other. 

“Is it me you want to leave, or the island?”

“The island Saps, I wouldn’t leave you if that was an option, but I can’t stay here, living my whole life hiding, when I know there’s a place out there where I could be free. Where I could talk to someone and not have to know that some part of them wants to kill me.”

“You know, I wouldn’t mind it either, going somewhere new. Some place where people don’t pity me. Where people aren’t kind to me just because they feel like they owe me.”

“You,” Flux stared at him, as if he just looked hard enough, he’d be able to read Saps’ thoughts, “You’d come with me?”

“If you want. It would probably be irresponsible of me to let you loose on a new island without some sort of supervision. Someone has to stop you from toppling the first nation that you come across.”

Flux grinned at him; it was crooked, and his eyes shone. “I’d like to see you try!”

Chapter Text

Six months later, if anyone stopped by a little tropical island, they’d find a beautiful house, fields upon fields of abandoned farms, overgrown crops, empty pens, and barns. 

They’d find a perfectly automated island, abandoned. 

And if they walked down the beach and up into a little dirt alcove, they’d find a rock, in front of it a garden of flowers growing. And on the rock it read:

“Thomas, Loyal Friend.”

Someday, people might remember the island as the sight of a great tragedy, or the prison of some great evil. They might remember it as a bustling little trade center, or as the home of a good man.

None of that really mattered; there had been a life on that island, one worth living perhaps, but the inhabitants wouldn’t be back; they had no need of it anymore. They were free, and they had a whole new life to live, just on the other side of the water.