Chapter Text
Boots thunder behind him, filthy words echo through the smoke and ruins, orders snapping like gunfire.
Flux staggers as he runs, breath hitching, one leg barely keeping pace with the other. His torn sleeves are stained crimson, the stiff fabric ruined and hanging wrong on his frame. Long losing the polished shine it once held.
A giant, ugly slash splits his face. Dragging across his left cheekbone and jaw. Blood seeps and trickles down to his chin.
Flux’s left eye won’t quite open right anymore, his eyelid droops halfway before he snaps it back. The eye unfocused and throbbing with pain.
His head turns back once, just once, a desperate attempt to see how close the mob of soldiers is.
That’s when Saps reaches him.
It happens fast. Too fast to be planned. He slams into Saps’ weight, arms close around him from behind. Flux feels hands grip tightly on his wrists, fingernails dig into his skin. Almost like an embrace, almost.
For a split second, the spinning world pauses. Flux’s breath grows rigid, trying to process what is happening.
Then it hits him, this is it, he’s caught. But there is no fury or frantic fear to struggle and escape. Flux feels a strange sense of relief and certainty, like the weight of the world has finally lifted off his back.
The pride he has worn like armor, woven deep into his soul, has carried him this far. But the cost of bearing it has long overshadowed any shred of will it gave him.
Under the tight grip, his knees buckle. His body folds backward into Saps as the exhaustion slowly creeps in.
Saps catches him without thinking, chest pressed to Flux’s back, the only thing holding him upright. Flux’s head rocks forward, shoulders shaking as the breath he has been holding breaks apart into something raw and ugly. His cries sound bitter, hoarse, wrong.
Saps freezes.
He has imagined this moment a thousand times. Confrontation. Rage. Justice. None of it looked like this. All the anger he has pent up for Flux through the years he spent on the run seems to disappear.
Saps had remembered Flux as someone sly and put together, he looked at everyone like they were a pawn in his game.
But now, he shakes in Saps’ arms, crying like something has finally broken past repair.
Before the soldiers reach them, before anyone can see, Saps turns, not sharply, he shifts his stance, angling his body so Flux’s face is hidden, tucked against his shoulder, shielded from the peering eyes of the soldiers. The world can’t see him. Flux shrinks into Saps’ arms.
His breath comes apart in short, stuttering pulls.
“Saps,” he whispers, voice shredded, trembling against his neck. “It hurts. It hurts so much. Th-they-” His breath hitches, tears spilling freely now. “They messed up my face-"
A quiet ache swallows Saps’ heart, his brows furrow lightly as he tightens his grip without realizing, holding Flux together the way you hold something already broken. Like how he once held his friend under the stars many years ago. His chin dips, forehead nuzzling into raven black hair.
“I hate you Flux,” Saps breathes out.
His voice was as sharp as mirror shards, yet through the cracks care and sorrow bleeds out. Longing and rage tangle and throb behind Saps’ ribs.
Flux makes a sound that might be a sob, a laugh, or nothing at all, and then his weight fully collapses. His body goes slack, exhaustion finally growing past the pain and fear.
Saps feels the sudden heaviness in his arms. He draws a sharp breath, loosening his hold on Flux’s wrists since there’s no point anymore. The soldiers can’t see him, and Flux isn’t even conscious. There’s no one left to watch his performance of hatred.
Saps wraps both arms around him properly this time, pulling him close, holding him tight against his chest as if Flux is going to disappear if he doesn’t. Blood soaks through Saps’s shirt, warm and vivid, but he doesn’t flinch.
For a single moment, the soldiers, the betrayal, all fade away. Screams and yells filter out.
There is only the familiar weight of someone he once cared for too much. At rest in his arms, and the unbearable knowledge that even now, even after everything, he couldn’t hate him.
Rapid footsteps crunch against the blood stained gravel as a calloused hand land on Saps’ shoulder.
“Holy fuck, you got him?" A familiar voice rings out, pulling Saps out of his thoughts.
Saps turns his body toward the sound, Flux still curled up in his arms. Schpood stands like a Roman god with his golden crown and armor glistening under the sun. The widest and slightly concerning smile plastered on his face like a hyena’s.
"C’mon now, let me take a look at the bastard."
Schpood takes a step closer.
Yet the smile on his face doesn’t quite reach his eyes, it’s mixed with something darker. Up close, it’s all teeth and barley contained fury. His gaze drops to the blood soaking Saps’ shirt, to the slack weight in his arms, to Flux’s ruined face half hidden against Saps’ shoulder.
The smile twitches.
"That’s him?” Schpood asks, voice sharp with disbelief. “That’s Fluixon?"
Saps doesn’t answer. His arms tighten by instinct, a subtle shift of his shoulders, like he’s bracing for something.
Schpood’s jaw clenches.
For a heartbeat, he just glares. The happiness of finding Flux long gone. The emperor who rallied half the world. The man conquered cities in the glory of Westhelm. Reduced to only hatred and anger.
Then something in Schpood snaps.
He lunges forward, hand shooting out. Not careful. Not gentle. His fingers fist in Flux’s hair, yanking him up just enough to expose his face.
Saps moves instantly.
“Schpood-"
Flux’s head lolls. Blood drips from his chin, streaking down onto Schpood’s gauntlet. His ruined eye flutters but doesn’t open.
The sight only makes Schpood angrier.
“This?” he laughs, sharp and breathless. “This is the man who thought he could play king? Who thought he could bleed us dry and walk away?”
His grip tightens.
Saps steps forward this time, shoulder bumping into Schpood’s chest, forcing space between them.
“He’s out.”
His voice an attempt to sound controlled, though it came out more desperate and strained.
Schpood whirls on him.
“Oh, I can see that,” he snaps. “Real convenient, isn’t it? After years, after everything, he just gets to sleep through it."
Behind them, soldiers eye each other sensing the tension like birds before a storm. Cass stands a few steps back, unreadable, watching Schpood carefully.
Schpood drags a hand down his face, breath coming fast. Anger radiates off him in waves.
Schpood’s eyes narrow.
“Keep him breathing, I don’t want him dying on the road. He’ll be awake when the world comes to collect his debt."
A pause, the only sound remaining is of wind gushing through the leaves.
“I will be the last thing he sees,” Schpood spits. “He’s gonna pay for all he’s caused me and my people, a thousand folds more!"
He glances back over his shoulder.
The soldiers move again, faster now. Cass steps forward, meeting Saps’ eyes. Something unspoken pass between them before she looks down at Flux.
Cass know Saps well, she was always good at reading people. Saps could even say she knew him better than himself.
She shoots Saps a faint smile, though it’s not the cheerful kind. It’s more soft like when someone tells you "My condolences."