Chapter Text
Impulse usually prides himself in the way he can keep his eyes on a goal, how he pushes on despite the obstacles that may cross him.
He's gotten through every hardship that life has thrown at him so far, but these last couple of days has really been testing him.
First it was the pouring rain that hasn't let up for days, only just stopping yesterday. Then the food that's been getting scarcer and scarcer.
Usually Impulse has been able to push on with no trouble, ignoring the hunger and how his tired limbs ache. Those things he can ignore.
What he can't ignore is how his chest aches and how quiet it is between him and Skizz. Skizz is his best friend, they've stuck together through thick and thin.
They've sat through thunderstorms, hail, through warm summerdays and through winters. That's normally not a problem, it's tough but doable.
They've done it all together. The biggest problem right now is that they're not in agreement. They've also not been talking for the last couple of hours.
Impulse is walking through the forest, hands holding tightly to the old worndown straps of his bag. Skizz is stepping on the fallen and slippery leaves behind him, his best friend in the entire word.
Both of them have been silent for a while, hours even. There's not much to say between them, until Skizz decides he's had enough.
"...What's the point?" His close friends words makes Impulse stop in his tracks, turning to look back at him.
Skizz has his head tilted down towards the ground, face hidden by his unruly hair. When they first met it was short, shorter on the sides and fine clean black hair.
Now it's long, hanging down in strands while being covered in dirt and grime, nothing like years ago.
"What?" He asks, his own throat it hoarse. Skizz mumbles something in reply, but it's too low for Impulse to catch it.
"What's the point of what?" Impulse presses on. Skizz looks up at him, and his eyes are dull, it's been years since Impulse saw them shining.
He knows his own yellow eyes must look the same, hardened with multiple sleepless nights and years of being on the run. Now it's even more obvious from the last night.
The fight is still so clear in his head, the things he'd screamed, and the things Skizz did. They've never fought like that, and unknownst to the other it's been tearing at both of them ever since.
"Anything, all we're doing is running." Skizz answers him, but his voice sounds to defeated.
The wind blows by them, yellowing leaves scattering. He ignores how cold it feels, seeing as it is late fall it was to be expected, but it's trouble for them.
Soon Impulse will have to make up a plan for winter, perhaps they'll get lucky and stumble upon an abandoned cabin somewhere that might work.
If not a cabin then a cave will have to do, those winters are the worst ones. Impulse needs to reassure him it'll work out, but he struggles.
He needs Skizz with him, and they need to get going. They can't stay here.
"We've got a plan, we are heading north." He answers, turning back around. How far do they need to go today? They'll need a good lead.
"That's not a fullfledged plan Imp, north is a direction." Skizz is right, Impulse knows that. They've not had a real plan for years.
In the beginning the plan was to find a safe place, settle down and learn to live. Now the only plan running through Impulses mind is how far can they get before the next problem hits? How far until their resources run out?
"It's the best direction to go, we've not had as many run-ins as before."
North was the choice they made months ago. They couldn't keep going endlessly anymore, they needed to make a choice.
South was a no go, east or west was a 50 50. North is said to be less explored, less people, less known overall.
It wasn't a real discussion where to go, they were too tired to really think it through. In the end eitherway they go they'll still leave tracks, and the people who follow will not care where their tracks lead.
Maybe if they travel north enough most will loose interest and turn away for easier game.
"We've not seen hunters for months Impulse." They haven't. The men with their weapons and ropes have been scarce so far.
The ones who carries a paper with their faces drawn on them with the promise of a fortune who are eager to track their trace have slowed. They're fewer than ever, but Impulse knows they're still on their track.
He's not letting down his guard anytime soon. Yesterday was all the proof he needed, even if Skizz doesn't believe him.
"I heard the dogs." He doesn't even need to see Skizz's face to hear the sigh.
"But did you really? maybe it was wild dogs?" He knows Skizz hopes it just was that, but they've not stumbled upon a pack of wild dogs for months. The chances of it being that up here is low.
"It wasn't, we need to keep going." Impulse continues walking, stepping over slippery roots and wet leaves. This will leave a lot of tracks, they'll be easy to follow like this.
Should they backtrack a bit? try and find a different path? He doesn't realise there's no steps behind until he glances back to see Skizz has stopped. He takes a few steps back.
"We can't stop here, Skizz." He ends his note on a pleading tone. Please, we need to hurry. His friend seems to hesitate, eyes shifting behind him the way they came.
The last cave they stopped at was a good spot, big enough to provide good shelter and close to running water. It was the best restspot they'd had in months.
Skizz liked it, Impulse saw it as a mere one day stay. In the end it got left behind, just like the rest of them.
"What's the point of running forever if there never is an end to it? What's the point?" And end. That's always been their dream.
A dream that they'll find a place to settle down, far away from the fighting and the blood and the death. Away from the cages, and the people.
It's been many years since he dared to believe in real peace. Years on the run has stolen that away from him. Now the question spins in his own mind.
What's the point of anything?
Impulse feels his mask crack, the one he's so carefully created over the years. The angry and cold mask that he only shows their enemies, never Skizz.
Skizz has always been the exception. But the mask was still always there, and now it crackles from his friends words.
If Skizz is doubting this bad he risks giving up completely, and Impulse can't have that.
So in his mind he pulls and forces the cracked and broken pieces of his mask together with his hands, ignoring how in his mind the pieces nicks and cuts him.
Impulse places his hands on Skizz's shoulders, mask back in place.
"I'll tell you the point, because you're alive, and I'm alive. I'm your point, and you're mine" Impulse ends up saying firmly.
It's always been the two of them, Impulse and Skizz, Skizz and Impulse. For years they've stuck together, Impulse doesn't know what he'll do if Skizz isn't by his side.
Skizz saved him, so Impulse will do his damn best to help the angel, that's the least he can do for his friend. He'll not let his friend end up back in a cage.
Skizz stares at him and Impulse meets his eyes without looking away, the dark bags are obvious on both of their faces. Skizz's shoulders lower then, like he is about to fold into himself.
Impulse wishes he could pull him into a hug, to just stay put for a few days and get some rest. He wishes they could set up a few traps. That maybe they'd be lucky and catch some animal.
That they could eat something that'd help with their growing hunger. Fall means little to no berries, it means crunchy leaves and less chance to catch anything.
He wishes he could tell him 'it'll be okay', but they don't have that time and privilege. They've never had enough time for anything.
Right now it's late fall, and Impulse knows that in just a few months it'll begin to snow. If he's unlucky then snow will hit them even earlier, maybe in a few weeks.
They've been traveling further north than ever, which he's already noticed based on the cold nights. They maybe should've headed south, but south means a lot more people and hunters.
He's never been able to handle he cold temperatures well, and each year on the run proves to be a harder challenge for them.
Impulse has one massive disadvantage to his hybridity, and that is the cold. Demons like him can't handle it too well.
One winter back when they were a lot younger they found little to no shelter. The one cave they stumbled upon wasn't as deep as they'd hoped, and they couldn't start a fire from the icy and wet branches.
Impulse doesn't remember a lot of those weeks, only coming to when there was a fire close to his face. Skizz had walked far, stumbling upon a huntingcabin and stealing some firewood.
It took a while for impulse to really come back. It then took them a long time to find the cabin once more, and by then Impulse couldn't feel anything. This year could very well be one of the more intense ones.
The ones that makes his fingers stiff and aching beyond the normal cold. Where his muscles hurt from shivering, especially if winter hits early.
If Impulse can't find a good place to stop they risk the same thing happening. He's afraid what this would do for Skizz. Last time the angel was a wreck when he got warmed up.
Time is of the essence, and the further out they can get, the safer it'll be for them. Demons are rare, angels are even more so. They'll be hunted forever, they both know that.
Skizz refuses to admit it, tries to keep believing there'll be an end. Impulse keeps him moving, keeps watch. Every person they meet is an enemy, every hybrid is a potential traitor to not be trusted.
"We've been running for years Imp, we'll never be safe anywhere." They way Skizz says it feels so different to before.
The Skizz yesterday would have shouted at him about a home, about an end. Now he sounds so defeated, like he'll lay down in the leaves this very moment and give up. It's worrying.
They have been running for years, first as teenagers, now as adults. There's never been a safe place, and there probably never will be.
Impulse wants to crawl into a black hole and disappear, because he knows that deep inside he believes the same thing.
But he can't show that, they can't give up now after so many years. So he steels his eyes, ignores the voice of doubt in his mind to squeeze Skizz's shoulders.
"...Maybe we won't, but we're alive. come on, we need to continue. " He hides away his face, turns it out towards the forest around them.
They'll need to cover a lot of ground to find a good place to rest. If not it'll be a long night of traversing the forest in the dark.
One glance at Skizz shows the angel isn't really convinced. Is he thinking of turning back to the cave?
"Impulse- " The angel begins, and Impulse only spares one look towards the sky before he shakes his head. They'll not be alive for long if they're captured.
"We're alive, and we need to stay alive. " They'll only be alive if they move. Skizz however, doesn't move, and so Impulse gently but firmly grabs his hand to pull him along.
It's still morning, they need to get away from what he heard yesterday, those barking dogs Skizz missed when they were scavenging.
Impulse knows he heard them, knows they're on their trail. They need distance. Impulse ignores the way his chest tightens at the memories of yesterday.
The memories of the things they screamed and fought about, and now how he pulls Skizz away from yet another 'potential home'. He'll apologize once they're safe. Skizz will forgive him later, hopefully.
"Now come on."
-----
It all began with one small child. A child from the nether, a realm of fire and covered in red rocks and lava.
Years ago there was a war, nether and overworld alike. The nether despite its climate had a lot of treasure and resources, items that lured overworlders to want to venture inside the fiery realm.
Some of the hybrids of the nether welcomed them, others were cautious. They didn't speak the same language, and very different customs.
At first trading was slow, the languagebarrier made the negotiations rocky and drawn out. Overtime it became easier.
The overworld had items the nether were interested in acquiring, and likewise the nether had resources solely collected from the dangerous environment that the overworlders wanted.
While trading was becoming easier, some overworlders got tired of the drawn out negotiations. With enough money anyone can skip a queue, so instead of waiting for trading they secretly had excavationteams entering to get the precious resources and treasure.
Once this was revealed it angered the Inhabitants of the nether, who felt betrayed by these secret groups who were mining without their knowledge.
The overworlders were pushed back and barred from entering the nether. While some tried to renegotiate, to try and solve this rising conflicts from the betrayal, others saw it as the right time to really stirr the pot.
New portals were opened in secrecy, and the illegal excavations were continued in private for months until this too was revealed.
These secret portals destroyed any trading and earlier agreements. Within months a war broke out between the overworld and nether.
Netherhybrids and overworlders scattered in the chaos. A lot stayed to fight for their home, others like those with families sought out new grounds or escaped the nether entirely.
2 years of wars were ended when the hybrids of the nether supposedly used an ancient item to forcefully shut down any portal linking to the nether.
This trapped some overworlders in the nether, and at the same time trapped netherhybrids in the overworld as well.
Ever since then the portals have been broken, unable to be lit. Some speculate it was the work of the gods, while most believe the tale of this ancient relic that sealed the rip that was the portals.
That's the story of the netherwar and over 20 years has already passed. There's not been word of any portals opened ever since. The netherhybrids that ended up in the overworld scattered, scared of being hunted they hid.
Impulse was only a small child when he and his parents were captured. Kept in cages they were paraded around as pets. o
overworlders were eager to see them, traveling far for a look at these rare hybrids. Since the portals were sealed the price and rarity of netherhybrids skyrocketed.
Eventually his parents were taken away, or rather sold away. Impulse was too little to work, but valuable eitherway and so he was kept in his cage.
He'd cried for hours, begging anyone close or passing by to please give him back his parents. Then he begged them to take him to them. He swore he could work, as long as he could do it with his family.
They eventually got tired from his constant pleading, and that's when Impulse learned that crying gets you a lot of bruises.
So he learned to pick himself up and stopped the tears from pouring down his cheeks. He instead took on a mask, a mask of hatred and anger for overworlders like no other, but mainly he kept his emotions to himself.
He would never let them see him cry again.
One day another boy In a cage was placed close to his own. Black shiny hair and anger in his blue sparkling eyes. Impulse was fascinated by the white fluffy wings, and his mask slipped slightly.
The boy was screaming at their captors, and even managed to grab one of the people passing by at one point. He's beaten just like he himself was, but the boy doesn't give up.
"Hey, what's your name?" Impulse blinks and realises that he had asked him a question. He's awfully chatty.
Impulse wonders how long he'll stay, hybrids passing through here doesn't stay long, except for him. It must've been years by now.
"Impulse..." He muttered, it must be loud enough because the black haired boy smiles despite the bruise covering his left cheek.
"I'm Skizz, I like your horns. You're a hybrid too right?" Impulse raises a hand to feel his own horns, he'd pretty much forgotten he has them.
"Yes, I'm a demon. I like your wings..." He says and Skizz smiles, fluffing up his wings proudly.
"Thanks! I'm an angel."
A demon and an angel becoming friends? It sounds like a fairytale, two complete opposites. Somehow they make it work.
Skizz is enthusiastic, lively and playful. Impulse is cautious and calculated, but beneath that hides his true feelings.
He sometimes finds moments where the mask slips and he himself ends up making a playful remark to something Skizz has said. The angels laugh becomes something he really likes.
Somehow his dark life becomes slightly better once Skizz is in it. The mask is left off, but only when he's with Skizz. The moment the door creaks, the mask is on within a millisecond.
Years are spent in those cages, only occasionally being let out under supervision. Skizz does loose part of his enthusiasm, but he tries to be hopeful.
He whispers ideas to Impulse at night for years, ways they could escape. Impulse is doubtful, how could they escape this?
"It's impossible." He tells the angel one night. Skizz looks up at him from where he's meticulously been sharpening a small piece of metall against the metall bars.
He doesn't know what attempt this is, he's lost the number. Skizz has tried anything and everything.
"It's difficult, but not impossible."
It takes him 3 more weeks, try after try until one night he sticks the small metall into the lock and twists. There's a click and Impulse watches him remove the lock. The angel smiles triumphantly from where he now stands with the lock in hand.
"I take it back, it's possible. You're incredible Skizz!" He has to stay quiet despite him wanting to shout. Within a minute he himself steps out of his own cage, feeling his stiff muscles ache and his bones creak.
They escape through a small window from the second floor of the mansion. They've barely been able to explore the mansion in all the years they've been there.
Only a few rooms were familiar, like the bathroom where the servants forcefully bathed them before any massive event, or the ballroom where they sat in cages or walked in chains to be oogled at.
Impulse and Skizz hates the people dressed in fancy suits, those that stare at them like they're property. Those that poke his horns or snaggs a feather from Skizz's wings as they walk past.
They're only teenagers, they've never really been out alone, but they'll take the wilderness over the cages.
It doesn't take long for the humans to know they've disappeared, because the loud voices and barking dogs reach their ears.
They end up having to run for their lives through the forest, and the darkness obscures their environment. It's raining, weighing heavy on them.
Skizz can't fly from the lack of energy and food, and especially not with Impulse in the rain. It's a struggle to see through the dark leaves and bushes.
It's even worse with the rain in their eyes. Behind them the barking has picked up. The dogs are close, snarling and calling for their captors to follow.
Impulse would right now rather disappear than be found. The punishment for their escape would be horrible, nothing like the beating when he was younger or when he did something they didn't like.
No, this would surely be closer to death.
So they continue to run blindly through the forest until it suddenly thins out. Confused by the abrupt stop of trees they twist to look back. The barking is close, the dogs are almost here.
Just then the ground disappears from under their feet, and they realise too late that they're on a cliffside of some sort.
They scream as they begin to fall, Impulses ears ring. Their screams drown out the sound of the barking dogs which have stopped by the top of the cliff.
Impulses scream gets cut off when he hits water hard. His side flares with pain from the fall. It's dark and he struggles as he gets pulled under the current.
He doesn't know where Skizz is, and he doesn't manage to keep his head above surface. At one point he's unsure which way is up or down.
The current is too strong, dragging him and his flailing limbs forcefully along downstreams. Impulse has never been near this much water, it's absolutely terrifying.
His lungs burn, and he accidentally gasps in a panicked breath underwater. Instantly his lungs burn and he continues to choke as he takes in water.
Darkness is closing in from the sides, and the roar of the water quiets. His eyes begin to close, and his flailing limbs slow as he gets pulled along downstream.
If he'll die this very moment he atleast get to do it away from his captors. They'll never get him, dead or alive.
Fate has other plans for him it seems.
Because then Skizz is there, his arms wrap around his friends middle, dragging his limp body along. He drags Impulse through the mud and with heavy gasps deposits him on the ground.
Impulse feels his body gets shifted and a hand hitting hard against his chest once, then twice. It jostles him and seems like the one thing to get him to begin coughing up murky water.
It spills from his lips like a faucet, and he cries as his lungs burn. There's a hand patting his back as he coughs. Finally it seems most water has come up, and Skizz takes a moment to finally breathe. They're both shivering and covered in mud, but they're alive.
They're alive.
-----
It takes a good while to get on the move. They're dehydrated and cold but they both agree they can't stay close to the stream. If the people decide to hunt them, they need as much distance as possible.
The fall was a lot higher than they expected, but thankfully the rain seems to have hidden their tracks from when Skizz dragged Impulse out of the water.
Impulse isn't fit to travel far, his lungs aren't too well. There's a gurgling noise when he breathes too deeply, and sweat has begun pooling on his forehead.
It takes him another two days before he suddenly collapses. Skizz is panicked, he has no idea how to help him. He doesn't know that his lungs still have water in them, doesn't know a person can still drown while on land.
An old woman finds them, most likely from his panicked shouting. She puts down an old basket with berries and mushrooms to look over Impulse.
She then insists they can come with her. Skizz is reluctant to follow her home. But she promises she can help, so he carries Impulse on his back and follows.
An old cabin greets them, and an old man chopping wood stares as they pass. Skizz hears them talk, the man seems doubtful, angry.
The woman is named Mary, her husband is Earl. Apparently she was an old nurse in the war and he a soldier. She doesn't seem to mind them being hybrids, and gently spends days upon days to help nurse Impulse back to health.
The warmth of the fireplace and the balanced food is a great help. Skizz helps place a rag on Impulses head to fight the fever, and turn him on his side when he coughed up some small amount of water.
Mary seem positive on his recovery. Skizz trecks the way through the forest to the closest watersource each morning to help out.
When he passes by with the waterbucket he always sees the man outside working. The man, Earl, is distrustful, and Skizz hears them argue outside some days. Impulse is recovering well, and it won't be long before they can leave.
When Skizz catches the end of their last argument, and Earl says he'll tell them where they are, he wakes Impulse and just like before they're out the window and escaping into the night. This night atleast isn't a rainy one.
They stick clear of people after that, afraid of being found out. But traitors can be among even those you don't expect.
One day they stumble upon a wolfhybrid. The young boy is excited to find them, eager to tag along for a bit. He asks a lot of questions, and they have no trouble answering.
The boy is running from people too, so of course they trust him when he tells them of his hideaway. They follow along blindly, stupidly.
That is until they're ambused, and it turns out some hybrids prefer to surrender themselves and work alongside their captors.
The boy seems apologetic, but beneath that is the desperate and haunted eyes of a prey willing to throw anyone else under the bus for one more day alive. One more hybrid captured means one less spot on the choppingblock.
They're caught off guard by the betrayal, and the amount of hunters surrounding them on all sides. Apparently they're so sought after that there's no doubt who they are.
The angel and demon, worth a fortune to capture alive.
They try at first to fight their way out, but they're too many. Instead Skizz grabs Impulse around the middle from behind and spreads his wings.
He's never tried to fly before with someone, and it proves a lot harder than he even expected. They get away barely, and Skizz's wings ache for weeks after.
They never trust anyone else after that.
-----
They find that stealing supplies is the best way, and over the years they acquire a good amount between them, carried in 2 stolen bags.
They continue walking, day after day they try and build distance from the ones who hunt them. But any new clue to their whereabouts draws out new hunters, and in turn a lot more danger.
They evade any village they stumble upon, too dangerous to approach. They sleep in shifts, and tries to find some semblance in their chaotic and dangerous lives.
Years on the run has worn down Skizz's determination, and now the most dangerous obstacle is how Impulse is gonna get the man to continue on. That's when they fight.
Skizz wants to stay. He wants to settle down somewhere, but Impulse refuses. As long as there's a bounty on their heads they'll never be safe.
The hunters have been on their tails, Impulse heard dogs barking last night. Skizz isn't as convinced. They haven't seen hunters for months.
It causes an argument, shouting and screaming is how they use their energy now. Impulse knows he can get heated, but he didn't expect Skizz to be the same, not against a friend.
He doesn't expect Skizz to scream that he wished he'd flown away that one rainy day of their escape. Impulse isn't any better though, shouting that his life maybe would've been better alone back in that stupid cage.
He knows it wouldn't be, but in the heat of the moment neither of them are thinking clearly. They're cold and drenched from the rain and the thev're been unable to make a fire because the wood is too wet.
Instead of resting they sit silently with their back to eatchother shivering the entire night. None of them gets any sleep.
That's the morning when Skizz asks him what the point of anything is, and Impulse has to pull his broken pieces together to get them to move on.
They get at most 2 hours into their travel when they both hear the barking. Just like Impulse expected, the dogs have found them. This forces them to run, to try and get farther.
That's where they are right now. The dogs gives chase and alerts the hunters of their whereabouts. They're tired and disoriented from the lack of sleep.
The forest thins out into a field covered in flowers and the dogs catch them in the middle of the field.
Skizz disappears from his side and Impulse twists to watch as he falls from a bite to his leg, screaming in pain as blood pours from the bite wound.
The dog snarls around Skizz's leg, pulling him back and dragging him in the dirt. The wound gets pulled roughly, and Skizz swears he can feel the teeth hit bone.
Impulse pulls out his knife, years old and stolen from an old huntingcabin way back. Without hesitation nor remorse he stabs the dog.
It yelps and whines loudly but thankfully lets go. Skizz scoots backwards and presses a hand against his leg, folding his leg close as he tries to gather himself.
The bite burns, and it's pouring blood. The other dogs circle them, snarling and eager for a second attack.
Impulse has the knife out and turns to follow the dogs. It's a struggle and impossible to keep all of them in his sight at the same time. They're stuck.
That's when the hunters appear at the edge of the trees, hollering. It's over, Skizz can't run and they're too exhausted. But he'll not go down without a fight. So he grasps the knife harder as they step closer, tauntingly waving their weapons.
"Give it up, it's been years. Your owner is paying a mighty bounty for the two of you." One man at the front says, a twisted smile on his lips. It makes Impulses blood boil.
"I'd rather die." Impulse hisses in response. Skizz has pulled his own knife, and is rising from the ground.
Impulse sees the way he staggers. His leg isn't stable and he wobbles, but his gaze is murderous as it sweeps over them.
One glance at Impulse is all he needs to know they have the same agreement. They've whispered it before, on cold nights when they lay sheltered under Skizz's white wings.
They've mentioned it when the food was so scarce they needed to go hungry, when their stomachs cramped and their muscles screamed.
Despite last nights argument, they're still on the same wavelength. The words run the right his mind.
Together to the end.
---
The fight is over within minutes, 3 dead hunters lies at their feet while the rest are standing above them. Impulse is craddling a bad knife wound, stretching all the way up his forearm.
Skizz tries to rise despite his own wounds but ends up on his knees with a hiss. The bitewound is throbbing painfully, and he tries to ignore the points where he swear he can see white peeking through the wound-
Nope, he's not looking anymore at that. They're both covered in ugly bruises that Impulse is sure will turn darker with time.
The hunters are arguing about the deep wound in Impulses arm and Skizz's shredded leg, seems they got ahead of themselves and hurt them too bad.
"If they die before the delivery then you're the one who will reimburse us on the loss." One of them hisses to the man who cut Impulses arm like a filé. Impulse gritts his teeth, feeling the world spin from blood loss. This is bad.
They're too occupied arguing that they miss the shapes having been appearing within these moments, observing by the opposite treeline appearing.
The hunters are unaware of the danger lurking at the edges, slowly spreading out beneath the cover of the trees until all ways are covered.
Impulse has pulled Skizz close, if they die right here they'll atleast have eachother. They've been running for years, so maybe it's really the end for them. It's a tragic way to go eitherway.
He blinks in confusion when he feels warmth on his neck. It feels like a warm breeze, familiar but also not. The warmth makes him turn his head confused to look.
His breath stutters as his yellow eyes reflect on fire, and there's a lot of it. When he blinks it's still there, crawling over the tall grass and stretching far out.
What?
It's so close, and it's real. He wheezes and struggles to get up, because the fire is spreading. The hunters shout and scramble to get away from the fire as well, just as confused.
Their retreat and confusion creates an opening for the demon and angel. Impulse switches his knife to his bleeding arm as he throws his good one around Skizz's side, tugging him up from the ground harshly.
He ignores the way his arm throbs in pain and how blood drips down from his fingers into the tall grass. Skizz wheezes in pain as Impulse tugs him up.
He can't spare to be gentle right now, can't risk taking a moment less to escape. If they're to escape they need to go now.
He pulls him along, tries to act as a crutch for his friend. Skizz is pale, stumbling along and it's obvious the motion is agony.
They can't stop, they're too close to the fire. Either they get burned or they escape. Getting captured is not an option.
Impulse has no idea what happened, did one of the hunters drop a torch? It spread so quick that it suddenly was just there. How did no one notice?
There's a lot of smoke, and the barking dogs gives them some leeway to try and escape. To his unluck one of the hunters notices them despite the chaos.
"Hey!" Shoot.
Impulse tries to hurry up, but he has began to get black spots at the corners of his vision. Skizz isn't faring any better, and Impulse has to rely on his own strength at this point to keep them both up and moving. Skizz's leg isn't holding up despite how he tries to help.
Impulse gags from the sudden nausea that hits him, and he ends up tilting his head down towards the ground to try and breathe. He stumbles and trips as his vision wavers.
Skizz tumbles down with him and as Impulse tries to rise he finds his face suddenly pushed into the dirt. The hunter is above him, pressing down his boot on his back as Impulse tries to catch his breath.
Skizz has no knife anymore, but his hand wraps around the hunters ankle as he tries to pry him off of his friend.
"What the hell did you do?" The hunter sneers in Impulses ear. Confused Impulse scrambles to try and grab his knife, but the man presses down his back and face harder into the ground.
There's sudden and abrupt shouting above him, and the boot leaves his back. Impulse struggles to push his good arm from under him to get up.
When he manages to turn he spots someone new. He doesn't look like the hunters at all.
A hybrid, white hair and a mask is covering his mouth. But Impulse stares at the ears, not a wolf, something else.
In this moment the man is fighitng the hunter using a long knife. The hunter isn't doing too well, and drops when the man gets a good slash into the neck. The hunter grabs at his own neck, wheezing.
Behind him someone else steps right through the blazing fire. Impulse knows from one glance that this is a hybrid, and a nether one at that.
The man has flaming hair and bright eyes. He's the first netherhybrid Impulse has seen since his parents, but he knows this is one.
Impulse doesn't know exactly what hybrid he is, he's never known much else about the nether other than the story of the war and that he himself is a demon.
But this man is different than he is. Is he the one who started the fire? It makes a lot of sense.
"Are you alright? The others are rounding them up." The man asks the other. The white hair shrugs as he observes the hunter by his feet.
"I'm good, but uh..." The one in the mask says and nods over towards them. Impulse steels his gaze despite the nausea he feels. If they get closer he'll be ready to defend.
Skizz has risen as well, glassy eyes trying to focus. The man with the fire turns towards them and his eyes widen once he takes in their shape. Impulse scrunches up his nose, they must look like shit.
"Shoot it's that bad? I'll drop the fire and get Doc!" He says and scrambles the otherway. The white haired man hums before he turns towards them.
One step is all he need to shakily race his knife against him. Impulses hand continues to lower against his will. He needs to force his hand up each time. The man raises his hands in a motion of surrender.
"It's alright, we'll get you help. I'm Etho, what are your names?'
Impulse sneers again, and tries to point his knife higher. He doesn't expect Skizz to answer for him.
"I'm Skizz, That's Impulse."
Impulse twists to look at him.
"Skizz!" He hisses. His friends eyes meets his, they're determined but defeated. The fight has left them.
"We can't run anymore, Imp."
Impulse knows it's true, they wouldn't make it 100 meters like this. This guy looks unharmed. He'd catch them before they even got 10 meters.
Impulse is experiencing what it feels like to have no blood in his body, or atleast it feels like it. Skizz's leg is also wrecked. Could the angel fly? He might be able to get away.
"Skizz, you need to escape." Impulse says lowly, feeling the way his words begin to slurr. Yup he definitely has bloodloss. Skizz spares him a glance but shakes his head.
"No." The short word makes Impulse blink, he finds that he has trouble focusing.
"What do you mean 'no'? Dude, fly away." But Skizz doesn't, instead Impulse watches as his bad leg folds under him from the pain. Skizz won't get far alone, and he's not leaving Impulse behind either it seems.
His focus shifts as the flames die down, leaving almost as suddenly as they appeared. Then a few people appear. The man from before and then 2 more behind him.
Impulse feels fear when he watches the tallest man, because he has no idea what he is. Greencovered and with a metal arm and an eye he towers over the others. He carries a bag slung over his shoulder.
"Well, you two look a lot worse than I even expected."
The way the man says it in a monotone voice while staring at his arm makes Impulse almost laugh, instead he raises the shaking hand with the knife higher, trying to ignore the way the black spots are invading his vision.
"If you get a bit closer I'm sure I can give you a matching mark."
He isn't clear enough in the head to hear the mans response.
----
Impulse has always worn his mask, or atleast it feels like forever. The captivity and then being on the run has stolen away anything else from him. But he has Skizz, the sole thing in his damn miserable life that gives it meaning.
His best friend, brother almost is the one thing on his mind when he wakes up in an unfamiliar bed. He didn't even notice himself falling unconcious before. Now he's disoriented and his friend isn't in his immediate vision, a red flag.
He struggles out of the blankets and when he presses his hand against the bed to get up white flashes in his vision. The pain is bad. It takes him a good while to get back to his body and for the pain to lower.
This time he uses his other arm, the one that isn't in bandages from shoulder to wrist to push himself up. He feels weak, but he struggles up off of the bed and onto shaky legs. He's not felt this bad since he was pulled out of the river as a teenager.
The room is lowlit, wooden walls with a few shelves. There's nothing close except a a small sidetable and a chair right by his bed. Impulse does however notice a window with curtains.
He struggles while leaning onto the chair as he walks. His legs need to stop shaking. When he reaches the window he stares at the curtains that are pulled closed. He manages to open them slightly while leaning against the wall.
It's daytime outside, he's unsure what time it is. But what he does notice are the other wooden houses. He furrows his eyebrows as he stares. A small village?
He does also spot 2 people outside, appearing to be collecting wood. One has sandy blonde hair, but the thing that catches his attention the most are the tricolored wings on his back.
Red, blue and yellow feathers. He's not an angel like Skizz, but perhaps a bird of some sort? The other man is familiar. White hair and fluffy ears. It clicks for him. That's the guy from before.
Before he can look closer the door to his room clicks and opens. Impulse twists his head towards the door as he presses himself against the wall.
It's the man from yesterday, the tall one with green skin...or is it fur? Eitherway he's not Skizz. The mans eyes widen as he sees Impulse standing.
"This is a surpise, I thought you'd be out for a few more days at the very least." He says as he steps inside.
"Where is Skizz?" Maybe Skizz got away. That would atleast be something good in this situation. The man hums, nodding his head back towards the door.
"He's out back, helping some of the others sort through some herbs." Impulse raises his eyebrow in doubt. It's disappointing that Skizz didn't get away, if the man is telling the truth.
Perhaps he's lying, a scheme to get Impulse to stay calm. Maybe Skizz is on his way back to the mansion already.
Impulses legs have been shaking worse and they decide now is the time to collapse. He nearly grabs the curtain as he goes down and the man steps forward. Impulse snarls, making him stop.
" Get the hell away from me." Impulse says, his eyes turned into slits. the man raises his arms in a surrender and steps back.
"Alright. Alright, how about you sit there and I get your friend." He doesn't phrase it as a question, and he turns around and leaves right after.
Impulse blinks in confusion and stays put until Skizz hurriedly hobbles through the door. Impulse notes he's using a wooden stick as a cane. Once the angel sees him he hurries forward to fret.
" I leave for like 15 minutes dude, why are you out of bed?" He asks as he begins to help him up. Impulse grunts as he's pushed back in bed.
" Well you weren't here." Impulse replies and Skizz chuckles.
" I was helping them out a little, they said I could use a little more vitamin D since it's a bit sunny." Impulse shakes his head, feeling some of his anxiety leave his shoulders.
Skizz doesn't seem to be harmed, and he seems calm. The man watching them from the doorway steps up close again.
Impulse immediately feels his shoudlers draw close and he shoots a look of distrust. The man raises a hand in a greeting.
" My name is Doc, I'm a medic." He says. Skizz gestures to his own leg. It's covered in a thick bandage.
" He patched me up." He says while smiling softly, making Impulse blink and turn to Doc. He needs to play his cards right, to bide his time and plan their escape before the hunters are alerted.
Skizz seems calm, but Impulse isn't one to trust easily. He can't be rude, he needs to wait until they let down their guard.
" Thank you." He says. Doc smiles and grabs a bag off the floor, he must've dropped it when he walked inside.
"Do you mind if I check your wound and change bandages?" He asks, and yes, Impulse really does mind.
He'd rather do it himself, but he's never been good at it, and they've never had a lot of medical resources. He needs to keep calm, figure this weird person out and his real intentions. So instead he sighs and shakes his head.
"No, I don't mind."
Skizz shoots him a look that Impulse ignores before he sits on his bedside. Doc walks up to them and begins to unwind the bandages.
After a couple of layers there's a hint of red underneath, and when he pulls the last layer off Impulse swallows as he feels bile rise in his throat.
There's a multitude of stiches going up his arm, stitching the grotesque wound closed. A few flashes pass his mind.
The hunter swiping with his knife as Impulse tries to fend him off, the way it slid through his skin and how it burned.
Impulse breathes and looks away, not wanting to see it anymore. Doc tilts his arm this way and that, humming lowly as he seems to take it in. Impulse ignores the feeling of how it tugs slightly at his stitched skin.
"Looks to be healing alright. I'll wrap it up for now but we'll probably need ot change it again later." Doc says as he begins wrapping fresh bandages around it. Impulse merely nods in response.
Once Doc is done he steps back, Impulse misses the look he gives Skizz and how he nods.
" I'll come back later to look at it, meanwhile i'll get you two something to eat. I'm sure Tango is willing to whip something up." He says as he takes his leave.
The door closes gently and Impulse waits to listen for anything. He's not sure if Doc is on the otherside, listening and waiting for them to talk. one minute passes, then two before Skizz speaks up.
"Are you alright? Does it hurt?" He asks, subtly reaching towards his bandaged arm. Impulse's eyes shift from the door to him, meeting his worried eyes.
"Are you okay? You're the one that got mauled by a dog." He says, Skizz blinks and a small smile shows on his lips before he chuckles.
"I'm alright. Sure my leg hurts and I need a stick. But dude, your arm was a mess! You also lost a ton of blood." Skizz says and wipes away a tear.
" I was worried when you suddenly just passed out." Skizz says quietly, and Impulse swallows.
"What even happened after?" Impulse asks, and Skizz is quick to dive into an explanation for him.
-----
Skizz feels like his leg got set on fire. Maybe the fire did reach him, but all he can see is the blood and the hints of white that definetly isn't visible bone, nope.
He's too focused on the flames closest to them lowering, disappering like they never were there. Skizz has never seen anything like it before. Through the last of the dying flames he spots figures stepping out.
One of them is a lot taller than the others, and Skizz wonders what he is, he's a hybrid he's never seen. Not that Skizz has seen a lot of hybrids in his life.
He does think the metallarm and mechanical eye is cool, scary but cool. The man tilts his head as he stares at them.
"Well, you two look a lot worse than I even expected." He says, speaking up, his eyes on Impulse. Skizz blinks and at the corner of his eye he sees Impulse's knife get raised higher. His friends arm is shaking.
"If you get a bit closer I'm sure I can give you a matching mark." Impulse replies, and Skizz notices the way his words slurr a lot.
The knife drops out of his hand as he tilts to the side. Skizz yelps and reaches out to grab him. His muscles strain and scream and he has to lower him to the ground.
"Impulse?" He calls, shaking his friend. He recieves no reply and feels the worry rise. When he looks up the other's are closer than he was prepared for. His breath hitches and he grabs Impulses knife, holding it with both of his hands.
"Step back!" He shouts, feeling his wings flare from behind him. Two of them does listen to him, the one who stays standing infront of him is the tall one.
"I'm Doc, I am a medic, your friend needs immediate medical help. I can help." He offers, getting right to the point. Skizz knows he's right. Impulse's arm looks horrid, his own leg can't carry him.
They won't get far. These people are hybrids, not that it's helped them in the past. But they did take care of the hunters. Maybe he can put a tiny bit of trust in them.
There's a small voice in his mind that even whispers, that perhaps these people are different. Impulse wouldn't agree, but Skizz does believe in people.
One thing is for sure though, Skizz will always pick Impulse.
Right now Impulse risks bleeding out, so Skizz looks up towards Doc and nods his head. His eyes are serious but desperate, meeting the medics eyes with no hesitation.
"Please help him." The man doesn't hesitate to crouch by their side, pulling out things from his bag.
"Of course."
The next parts are a bit blurry too to explain, Skizz feels like he is watching a movie in the way he watches the them step up and help too. There's a few other hybrids there, standing around them and keeping a lookout.
He feels overwhelmed, like he isn't really in his body. They wrap Impulses arm tightly in white bandages, then they move onto Skizz's leg. He tries to tell them that they need to focus on his friend.
Skizz can see that he's bleeding through the bandages already, but he's reassured Impulse is in good hands.
The next moments are of blurry hands grabbing him gently, helping him between them as they leave the burned and bloody field behind.
He's pretty sure they actually killed all the hunters, because none of them follow them. Skizz's only focus is on Doc who carries Impulse in his arms. Impulse's eyes are closed, head resting close to Docs neck.
The next moment Skizz stands at the edge of a small village. Wooden houses and small fields surround him. He blinks, turning his head to look around. One of the men holding him, the one with fiery hair grins.
"Welcome to the Hermits!" He says happily. Skizz blinks and realises Doc is further up ahead. He begins moving hurriedly, his pace getting impatient.
Impulse is getting out of his sight. He nearly trips and the arms grab him to make sure he doesn't fall flat on his face.
"Whoa! careful." The man says and stabilizes him. They hobble along into one of the houses and Doc has placed Impulse on a flat table and began to remove the bloodied bandages. Skizz gets pushed down into a chair.
"I need to-" He begins while desperately trying to get up. The man with fiery hair pushes him down firmly.
"You need to sit, you're hurt too and pale as a sheet buddy. Doc will help him." Skizz sinks down into the chair with defeat. His wings twitch at his back, uncomfortable with the chair.
He stays put, anxiously watching as they begin treating his friend. The wound is bad, bloody and still bleeding as it drips onto the floor. Tap tap tap.
They wipe his arm down, someone arrives with boiled water and they clean his arm before Doc grabs a needle. Skizz swallows and needs to look away when he begins to stitch him up.
He's happy Impulse is unconcious now, because it looked like it would hurt a lot. Minutes pass. When he looks back he sees that the man is wrapping bandages over it.
Skizz watches the last of the stitches disappear under the white fabric and his shoulders loosen. When the man is done he along with the man with white hair lifts Impulse gently and moves him.
They step through the doorway to a different room. Skizz rises, ignoring how his leg screams in pain. The man with fire hair splutters and presses down on his shoulders once more.
"Wh-did you hear nothing before? You need to sit down."
"But Impulse isn't here." Skizz argues and the man sighs and pushes him down again.
" I promise you'll see him right after we've looked at your leg. He is just being moved to a bed." He says and Skizz huffs, crossing his arms.
Doc and the man who Skizz still refers to as "the white haired man" returns, and now Skizz is their next patient. A small stool is used to prop his leg up higher.
Skizz then spens minutes gritting his teeth harshly into a piece of fabric he's given as the man cleans out his wounds.
It hurts to the point that he has to close his eyes and bite down harder on the fabric to not scream. He suffers through his own round of stitches, and finally his legs is being wrapped up in bandages.
The moment Doc fastens the last piece of the fabric he grabs the armrests of the chair to stand. The others reach out to help before he falls.
"You can't sit just a little bit more?" The man with white hair asks, supporting his left side. Skizz sends him a glare in response, he'll hobble all the way to the other room alone if he has to.
They seem to realise this without him saying anything, and so instead they help him. He reaches the next room and his worry lessens when he sees Impulse fast asleep in bed.
He's covered with a few blankets, face calm and asleep. Doc gets the chair from the other room and places it by the bed, but Skizz ignores it to climb into bed.
He's not sitting one meter away from his friend. He sinks down in the bed with a small sound of relief and closes his eyes.
He'll happily lay here forever. Most of his adrenaline also has worn out by this point, and his leg is aching.
"Maybe a little bit of introdutions are in order." Doc says and Skizz opens one eye to peer at them.
" Well like I said before I'm Doc. That's Etho over there." The man points to the white haired man standing by the wall. He recieves a small wave as a greeting. The man with fire hair leans forward from where he stands, smiling widely.
"I'm Tango!" He says, holding out his hand. Skizz blinks and slowly reaches out to shake his hand. He's warm, just like Impulse but maybe even warmer. Netherhybrid? Must be.
"I'm Skizz, That's Impulse." He says, even though he knows he did say their names before.
"Nice to meet you Skizz."
The door to the house opens, and Skizz turns his attention towards the still open door to the room. The footsteps approaching are loud, and suddenly a new person appears.
The thing that gets Skizz to nearly spring up out of bed is the fact that they're wearing metallarmour that covers them entirely. Skizz can't see their face at all, hidden behind glass.
His attention shifts when he spots strange runes carved into the armour. It looks ancient, like old equipment from years ago.
"Hello! You must be the new people I was informed about." Skizz blinks at the mans voice. It's light, almost on the hint of awkward, not like he expected someone dressed in ancient old gear.
"Uh..." He feels his mind blanc. What is actually happening?
The man walks inside, stepping up to the bed. The man seems to freeze for a moment before he rights himself.
"Oh shoot, introductions first, I'm Xisuma." The man introduces as he holds out his hand. Skizz blinks and reaches out to shake it. This is the first time in years that he's shaken another persons hand.
Skizz stares at the glassreflection that shows himself. He cringes at the dirt and blood covering his face.
"Skizz."
His hand is released and the man sits down in the chair. Skizz notices in that moment that the other's except Doc have shuffled out of the room. Who is this man really?
"What is this place?" Skizz finds himself asking, too curious not to. He's the more curious one out of him and Impulse, which has always been a double-edged sword. Curiosity killed the cat and all that.
Him and Impulse has been keeping ahead of the hunters and safe because they've been cautious, but now Skizz is too tired to really think it all through. He's also now noticed a headache at the back of his mind.
"You're in our village, we're actually called the hermits funnily enough." It makes him remember the words from before. Hermit village. He furrows his eyebrows in confusion.
"Why hermits?" Xisuma tilts his head but is quick to answer.
"We keep to ourselves, not many folks come this way. Most that do are running from something, or perhaps some people."
Skizz swallows, staring at his own reflection in the glass. They've accidentally stumbled upon a secluded group, this could very well mean trouble for them.
"I'm sorry, we didn't know this was your place. We'll leave as soon as we can." Skizz says while sparing a glance at Impulse. Could he carry him?
He's not sure he could get far with his leg like it is right now. Maybe if he could tie him to his back? How far out could he get?
He would need to find a good cave, somewhere to stay until Impulse is on his feet and Skizz's leg begins to support his own weight. How far was it to the old cave?
Doc frowns from where he stands.
"We're not kicking you out, if that's what you're worried about." He speaks up. Xisuma raises his arms as well, waving them in the air.
"Goodness no! You're free to stay and heal, we're not throwing you out. Us hermits are peaceful, no hunters are allowed of course, but any hybrids or people running from them are free to stay here."
Skizz stares at them, an eyebrow raised. It sounds too good to be true. Him and Impulse were fighting about this just last night.
It's almost laughable that there would suddenly be a place that they could stick around in for a little while, atleast till they heal. What are the odds of that?
Do they expect anything from them? They must be. Could it be trading? Him and Impulse get free medicalhelp and in return they help the community?
Skizz will have to figure out what to do on his own seeing as his friend is out of comission right now. Does he need to do the work for 2 people? He bites his lip, pondering what to ask.
" How much is it gonna cost us?" The question seems to baffle the two hermits, because silence falls over them. Skizz wonders if he just screwed everything up, oh he misses Impulse right now.
"...Nothing?" Xisuma says with confusion in his voice. Skizz shoots him a look of doubt.
"What do you mean nothing? Is it money? things? We don't have a lot of resources but I'm sure I could help out around the village, I just need something to stand with and then-"
"Woah woah stop, you don't need to pay anything in return." Xisuma says. Skizz's blanc look reflecting in the glass makes the man sigh softly and shake his head.
"Listen, as long as you stay here you're our guests. There is no payment. The only rules are that you don't hurt anyone, no stealing or destroing anyone else's property." Xisuma says.
Skizz would say he's a bit too positive and optimistic for his own good sometimes, but even he can reach his limit.
This sounds too good, somewhere beneath the mans words there must be a secret meaning. He's sure Impulse would be able to figure it out instantly. His headache worsens just thinking about it.
"Just relax for now, we'll get you some food in the meantime." Xisuma says and rises from the chair. Skizz watches them leave, closing the door behind them softly.
Once they've left he turns to Impulse and studies the mans resting face. He's tired, the dark rings obvious on his face. Skizz feels bad for what he said before, how he screamed at him. He needs to apologize later.
Skizz falls asleep before he gets any food, too tired to stay awake and be on guard.