Archive of Our Own

| Fluixon was slain by Saparata.

The sword in Thomas’s hand had fallen from his grasp as the death message popped out, or rather as he saw Saparata piercing the blade of his own through Fluixon’s breast; Like that, Fluixon dropped dead right in front of his eyes, clung and tightly wrapped into Saparata’s arms. Thomas’s eyes locked onto Fluixon’s corpse and focused solely on that.

A slight shift caught his attention onto Saparata’s figure instead, and there he noticed the other man was staring right back at him now with an unreadable expression displayed on his face. However, Thomas could tell that he wasn’t himself. The dead eyes on Saparata’s face, something he hadn’t thought he’d see from the man.

Then Thomas moved back a bit, still staring at the scene far from him, when he heard a whisper of a ghost in his ear: “Run.” That was when he remembered the promise he had made with Fluixon, when the man was still alive.

That’s right, Thomas knew from the very moment they set foot into the colosseum, Fluixon had no chance, or he did, but didn’t want to try any more. Ready to admit defeat that way, Thomas knew he’d die to Saparata. He knew Fluixon sealed and accepted his fate like that. Perhaps, it was the only defeat Fluixon could ever accept, if he’d die to the man he had ruined the life of.

Another step back, Thomas remained fixated on staring at Fluixon’s body, then into Saparata’s dead eyes. Thomas wasn’t entirely sure what the other man was thinking or feeling in that moment, nor did he want to know. Saparata only shifted a bit more when Thomas saw a droplet of water fall onto his skin. That’s when Thomas realised that the skies had grown darker than earlier, and rain started dropping faster and heavier.

“Run”, " the word rings into his ears once more. Thomas’s chest tightened at that moment, Saparata still staring into his face. It was Thomas who broke eye contact between the two of them as he turned on his heels, picked up the sword he had dropped earlier and began running down the stairs to exit the colosseum and not once looking back at Saparata or Fluixon; Not once looking back.

There was no reason to; if he looked back, it could only slow him down. He made a promise to Fluixon to run away once he took his final breath, once it was over, and Thomas was destined to keep that promise to heart, forever and always.

Thomas would row a boat back to the Conspiracy’s base that day, only to be met with silence and emptiness. The once-chatty, noisy bunker was now quiet. It felt suffocating, it felt wrong. Thomas hadn’t stayed there for long.

—

Saparata had stood by a tombstone that he had built himself a few weeks ago. Weeks. The man took a deep breath as he took that information into himself. It’s been weeks since the war against Infernus had happened, since his duel with that man at the colosseum had happened. The same man he had to dig the grave of, the man lying in the ground just beside him.

He moved his eyes down to the side as he stared at the grave and the sign he wrote at the top: ‘Fluixon’, his name; beneath that are the words: ‘Goodbye, Friend.’ Saparata’s eyes fell half-lidded before he shut both of them, recollecting the events from that day. It was painful, he could not deny, yet he knew it was the only way. Fluixon had done him wrong in so many ways, but he also could not deny how much the latter meant to him. They were friends, yet Fluixon took so much from him.

And for what? A cause that the other believed in, yet was proven wrong in the end. Fluixon had that paranoia; it was evident, or perhaps it was simply a payback for what he had done back in Theria to the man. When Saparata was his President, and Fluixon was his Vice President. They had always been at each other’s throats, haven’t they? Tugging and pulling at the other’s strings; They were always bound to each other and bound to leave the other.

Perhaps, this was Fluixon’s means to make Saparata repent for what he had done when he had climbed that tower in Theria and jumped, not once thinking of how the other man would respond or react. Or perhaps Saparata was full of himself, but he knows Fluixon, he knows the man would be that petty.

Saparata cannot blame the man either; if Fluixon had left the way he did, he was sure he’d do what Fluixon had done to him. In the end, Fluixon still got a taste of what he’d done to Saparata; the grave was there as a memory. As a reminder. His memory will forever haunt him in the end; Saparata knows that, and he knows it fully well. He didn’t need to do all of this, really; no one had told him to.

In a way, Saparata couldn’t fully hate Fluixon. He loves that man with all his heart; he hates what he had done to him, but it’s hard to fully hate a man like Fluixon. However, if he had to kill Fluixon once more, he’d do it again. The man truly got him this fucked up; he’s a mess, and he’s aware.

“And it’s all your fault.” He chuckled at himself in a whisper as he reached a hand to his face and ran the palm against it. He sighs into it. Saparata moved his hand away from his face and placed it back down beside his torso, as he flutters his eyes, slowly opening them. He shifted his body to the side and stared at the gravestone one last time before he turned around to face the other direction.

Saparata, ready to return to his vacation home, had paused. The pupil of his eyes dilated at the sight in front of him, at the man who dared to show himself up once more to his face after what he had done to him. (Or perhaps it was a hallucination)

His eyebrows furrowed as the man stepped forward. He moved his palm to his side and was ready to draw his sword before the other man had lifted both his arms, as if in surrender.

“I’m unarmed,” the other spoke softly to Saparata. “See? You can even check for yourself,” he reassured him. Saparata noticed his face; there were bags under his eyes, he looked tired, he looked like he hadn’t slept for days, and his hair was messy rather than the usual fluffiness to it. Clearly, he hasn’t showered in a while.

Saparata frowned as he lowered his weapon and placed it back where he had pulled it from. “What are you doing here, Thomas?” Saparata asked, an eyebrow lifted, and his eyes were fixed on Thomas’s face.

The other man had an unwritten expression on his face. Saparata wasn’t sure whether it was a guilty expression or something else; either way, he wasn’t happy at the other man’s sudden appearance after disappearing into the wind that day. Saparata thought cowardly of him at that.

Thomas, the only living member of Fluixon’s little group, someone whom Saparata also considered a friend who was dear to him. Fluixon’s entire group was, however, he and Thomas had grown closer, he’d say. The original concept design of his home was worked on by him and that man, after all, until Fluixon had complained about the unattractiveness of the design. Saparata remembers that clearly; he and the brunette started laughing at Fluixon’s outburst, and the two defended their collaborative blueprint of the original build.

Thomas was a dear friend of Saparata who had betrayed him along with Fluixon and the rest of the group; And the audacity to show his face once more to him, this time standing close to him, apparently unarmed.

“I could kill you right now.” Saparata continued upon Thomas, who hadn’t answered his question. Thomas wasn’t shaken by the threat; he only approached Saparata closer than before. The man’s brows furrowed even more as the brunette moved nearer.

Ignoring Saparata’s comment, Thomas opened his mouth instead to say: “I’m turning myself in” He stared into Saparata’s eyes, and then there was a soft, sad smile on his face, “You don’t have to do that.”

A sharp, painful feeling reached onto Saparata’s chest, yet he still scoffed in response. He chuckled for a second, “What? Feeling guilty for your crimes?” he asked once more, still glaring at Thomas’s face.

“No.” Thomas answered without hesitation, shaking his head, “Of course not.” He moved his eyes to the side, “It just feels right.”

The eyebrows on Saparata’s face would furrow even more. The face so close to being engraved onto his face forever, he opened his mouth to ask another question, “Why come here? Looking for remorse? You won’t find any from me.”

Thomas shook his head once more, “No,” he smiled, it felt like a mock on Saparata’s end, the man’s teeth gritted at that, “I just…” Thomas paused.

“---I don’t know.”

Saparata bitterly chuckled and frowned, “You don’t know, huh?” he looked away from Thomas, “You ran off, and suddenly you show your face to me? You’re so unfair, Thomas.”

“I know.” Thomas moved closer to him and reached out a hand, but Saparata quickly pulled away, looking back to glare at Thomas. “I know…”

Saparata shook his head for a little while as he spoke the words, “You don’t.” he frowned as he stopped his head and stared into Thomas’s face. “You don’t, you fucking don’t.”

Saparata took a step back and still fixed his gaze on Thomas’s.

“Because if you did, you wouldn’t have betrayed me. Thomas, do you feel guilty of doing what you did to me?” Saparata asked, he wasn’t even sure why he did in the first place, like he anticipated an answer he’d want to hear from Thomas.

But he knew Thomas was forever Fluixon’s most loyal little worker, willing to give up everything and that he did. It was evident that Thomas definitely showed no remorse, or everything was completely forged, an act. Their friendship and memories were all tinted memories, fabricated and orchestrated by Fluixon, the ring leader.

Thomas opened his mouth, though no words came out, as if he hesitated to speak. Was the question that hard? He doesn’t believe whatever would come out of it now.

And an unexpected answer came out, “Yes, I did…” but it was what Saparata wanted to hear, however, not needed, as if Saparata expected a different answer, as if he couldn’t accept that answer. Saparata’s teeth had gritted, and his fist had clenched tightly.

Thomas regretted what he did. No, he felt guilty. There was a huge difference between the two; you can regret something without feeling an ounce of guilt, you can feel guilty without regretting something. Despite that, Saparata couldn’t bring himself to believe a word, or even like what that entails. Perhaps what Saparata asked in the first place was wrong wording.

“Right.” Saparata scoffed, and Thomas was quick on his defence.

“Saparata, for what it’s worth, I tried— I really.” Thomas paused, “I tried to convince Fluixon that it shouldn’t be you. Not you…”

Saparata furrowed his brows further at that. He was rightfully upset, but now even more upset by what that elaborates.

Saparata opened his mouth, “And yet, you did. He talked you through it, didn’t he?” he asked with a mocking grin to Thomas, and the other hadn’t answered; Saparata scoffed, “Your silence says enough,” he continued further, “Should I applaud you for your effort then? ‘Thank you, Thomas, for defending a poor guy like me—!’” he mocks the last line and tried to mimic someone who sounded helpless, “You’re so cruel to me, Thomas.”

“I’m sorry—”

He cuts Thomas off, “I don’t want to hear your apologies.” Saparata laughed bitterly, “You couldn’t stand your ground to him?” Another silence from Thomas, and Saparata had gritted his teeth once more, “Tch. Always a lapdog, aren’t you? Fluixon’s specifically.” he grinned mockingly, trying to hit something deep into Thomas’s chest; he only regretted saying those words as soon as they left his mouth, though he couldn’t bring himself to apologise right now.

Thomas changed the subject and ignored that last comment, “I’m turning myself in, but not for my ‘crimes’. I believe we did nothing wrong.”

“You di—”

“We never betrayed anyone. We defended this island in a way we thought was right; we weren’t traitors to Luminara nor to Pandora. We wanted what was best for this island and solely that. That is not betrayal.” Thomas says, proud and firm. It was admirable.

Saparata knew deep inside that Fluixon’s little group cared for each other. But they are blinded by their ‘cause’ for unification; they were traitors, and they are classified as one. But of course, Thomas wouldn’t think that. At least to Saparata, they were traitors.

Saparata spoke, “Didn’t betray anyone, huh? You’re full of bullshit.”

“It’s the one thing I regret. You don’t understand how difficult a decision it was for me, Saps,” Thomas says softly, his voice grew weaker, as if he didn’t want to share much of it, as if talking about it brings him pain. “You were my friend, Saps. You still are—”

“Don’t call me Saps.” Saparata cuts him off, “And so what if you regretted it, you still did it. You betrayed me! Just because that guy… said so?”

Thomas replied to that, harshly and in a cold tone, “Don’t act like you wouldn’t do the same if you were in my place.”

Saparata immediately dropped his glare and frowned. Thomas was right; there was no arguing with that one. He sighs and asks another question, “If not for your crimes, then why are you turning yourself in?”

Thomas smiles at Saparata. It was a sad one, like all the previous ones were, “There’s nothing left for me here,” he answered back to Saparata.

Of course, the rest of the Conspiracy had died before, and after the war, Fluixon died. Thomas was the only one left, alive and unshattered, in a way, at least. Thomas truly had no other reason to live for. He was alone; there was no means for him to go on.

Yet, Saparata was just as alone as Thomas was.

“Nothing?” Saparata began, “What was- what am I then?” he continued. What on earth was he asking Thomas? As if he’d like the other person’s answer to him. His stomach churned, and his chest grew heavy. He’s a fool; he shouldn’t have asked that, yet he was curious. Thomas had stated they saw each other as friends. What did Saparata see them as, however?

He dislikes Thomas and everything about him, yet he still cares about him despite everything. He can’t forgive him, that is evident, but he cannot… lose him.

“We’re… friends.” Thomas answered with a quiet voice, “To me, at least,” he mumbled out and continued further, “I said so earlier, didn’t I?” Thomas moved his hand to his head as he combed his hair, as if nervous; however, Saparata wasn’t sure.

Thomas was still so dear to him that Saparata couldn’t let him go.

“Then stay.” Saparata moved forward and reached a hand towards Thomas’s own hand. He looked at Thomas with a determined expression. He doesn’t truly understand why he had asked that from Thomas; he knew the other wouldn’t, he doesn’t have the same effect Fluixon had on the brunette.

However, Saparata couldn’t lose another person; he resented Thomas, though that’s a strong word. Dislike is too simple, and nice, it doesn’t properly describe his feelings about Thomas. How does he feel about Thomas… It’s complicated, God, and was it the same with Fluixon. The two were difficult, so complex, yet he couldn’t push them away, even in death, he couldn’t push Fluixon entirely away.

Saparata doesn’t fully understand either when it comes to Thomas, but he doesn’t want the other to turn himself in; he knows what awaits him, and he’s sure Thomas is aware either. There was no way the court or the rest of Pandora would let the last conspirator free of his crimes, no matter if Thomas was good enough to convince the jury or judge to.

He gripped Thomas’s hand tighter, “You said you have nothing left here,” Saparata begins to talk, “I’m still here.”

“You hate me,” Thomas responds immediately, eyebrows furrowed, as if confused. Saparata was just as confused as he.

Saparata nodded and didn’t deny the accusation, “I do.” he loosens his grip on Thomas a little bit, then tightens it once again.

I can’t lose another person.

“You’re so unfair, and you’ve hurt me a lot, but you’re still my friend, I think.” Saparata claims, as he locked his eyes deep into Thomas’s, “Thomas.”

Thomas stared at him for a little while, face unmoving, unreadable, yet Saparata knows he’s thinking deeply, as if considering it. It’s close enough to what he’ll get, perhaps. Though it was until—

“Right,” was all Thomas said, before he reciprocated Saparata’s hold onto his hand, squeezing the other’s in return. To Saparata, it reads as full acceptance to stay with Saparata. To bring each other company.

Saparata smiled a bit, a sad and bitter one. Thomas smiled a little bit before dropping it immediately. The two stayed in silence for a little while before they let go of each other’s grasp on one another’s hand; however, still looking at one another.

Surely this would end up fine.

—

Saparata is suffocating him.

There are a few things that Thomas can’t seem to let go of. Habits never died or whatever the saying was. For instance, he isn’t used to not being told what to do, orders from someone; that’s why he was so willing to turn himself in until he went to Saparata. He didn’t have anyone telling him what to do anymore, nor was there a cause to be fighting for. The people who he stood by and with had died fighting in what they believed in; Thomas didn’t see a reason why he should carry on. However, Saparata seemed to have other plans for him.

Thomas was still unsure why he had gone to Saparata; perhaps it was some kind of farewell. He hadn’t expected to stay with the other man in the end, didn’t know why the other was willing to let him stay despite what he had done to him. It was the least of his predictions upon setting foot on the island he hadn’t been to since he had helped build the other’s home.

It felt refreshing yet nauseating, it felt inviting yet unwelcoming. Thomas was welcomed by Saparata with open and warm arms. As warm as warm can get. To Saparata, he was still a traitor, and he couldn’t blame the other for it. Thomas was true to the words he had told Saparata prior, though, that he hadn’t regretted anything but helping Fluixon orchestrate in framing the other.

Fluixon. His gravestone was outside, built by Saparata himself. Right, Thomas wasn’t used to not being told what he needed to do the moment he swore his loyalty to the deceased man. The same man he had watched die in the arms of the person he had chosen to live with.

Saparata had been what he needed; Thomas would think so, in a way that he knows, however, in a way that he wasn’t used to when it comes to, well, Saparata. For instance, he hadn’t known Saparata to be so obsessed with knowing his well-being, as if that’s his number one priority. Another thing, Saparata had mentioned to Thomas that he couldn’t leave the island without Saparata, which would be fine for the brunette. When Thomas tells the other that he’d like to go out on a mining expedition, Saparata immediately shuts him off, saying he could do it himself. Saparata also demands him of things; however, they are simple chores that can be done at any time. It seems like when Thomas does them, Saparata would be watching from a distance.

It was suffocating.

Thomas wasn’t used to this kind of treatment from Saparata; he had always known Saparata as an approachable, cheerful, loud, unbothered and other charming details. From their memories back then, to what he hears from others. Though he stops to think, was that truly Saparata, or was it a mask?

Did Thomas really know Saparata? Seeing how he is now, he has doubts that he understood the other man to an extent. There may be more to this than what he had always known. Though, thinking about it now, why Fluixon would choose to frame Saparata out of all people could go along with this. He hadn’t really given time to question why Fluixon did what he did, especially with how Fluixon had talked to him after Thomas raised his concerns. Saparata was right.

There is something more to Saparata than what Thomas knows about the man he classifies as his friend. Friend… do friends restrict each other this much? No, Saparata was just doing this for his safety, even though the other didn’t have any reasons to.

But that’s just how it’s been since he lived with Saparata. A routine that he could not get used to, despite how short it’s only been, it felt like he’s been with Saparata alone for years. They go to bed, at first separated, then Saparata had moved his own to the guest room he prepared for Thomas, on the same night. They wake up, Saparata would always be the first one to, making tea and breakfast for both. Thomas didn’t like tea; Fluixon did. Saparata would run an errand, Thomas would be left alone, says he can’t come along; the other would tell him to harvest some of the watermelon from his farm, and Thomas would follow. It never took long, and he would remain with nothing to do.

Saparata would return home late that day, Thomas wouldn’t question it; he had just been glad Saparata had gone back. As if expecting he wouldn’t, even though Thomas knew the other resides in that island.

It got strange the next day, Thomas would say. Saparata woke him early; he’s not sure why Saparata even needs him to be awake this early in the morning. The two ate together, some baked potatoes on the table; Thomas didn’t receive tea from the other this time around, perhaps he realised, or forgot. It’s too early to tell.

Saparata had brought him down to a couple of apple trees near his home, and the other man held a basket in his left hand; on his right hand was Thomas’s own hand that he had tightly held as he dragged the brunette to the trees. Something Thomas noticed was the grip, squeezing so firm, as if Thomas was going to run away.

He was tasked and asked to help Saparata pick the apples from the trees. Apparently, Saparata had been using a ladder to climb to the top of the trees to pick apples. Thomas slightly chuckled at that, but Saparata had only frowned, not at all pleased at that response. Saparata softly hit Thomas’s shoulder, not for it to hurt.

Fortunately, Thomas’s height was tall enough to reach the apples without needing to stand on his tiptoes; this allowed Saparata to sit against a trunk of a nearby tree and watch Thomas pick apples. Thomas thought about how the other was practically making him do free labour, but he didn’t really complain; Thomas liked doing something, needed to do something, like it’s something he lives for.

Thomas dropped the third apple he picked from the first tree into the basket Saparata had placed on the ground beside him. He was about to reach for the next one until he heard Saparata call his name out in a worrisome voice, which caught him off guard; he had never heard the other man say his name like that.

Thomas placed his arm down on his side and turned to look at Saparata, who was now walking with swiftness toward where Thomas was. The brunette furrowed his eyebrows in concern as to why Saparata was acting the way he was.

Saparata immediately moved his palm to grip Thomas’s shirt. It caught the brunette off guard, staring into Saparata’s face that was so fixated on the fabric he wore, with curiosity, Thomas looked down as well, and his eyes had widened a bit at the sight.

He didn’t tie the bandages properly earlier, didn’t he? He stupidly didn’t realise that there were blood stains on his shirt. Thomas frowned at that. He then looked back at Saparata, who now had a darkened expression on his face.

“What happened?” He asked Thomas, moving his eyes up to glance at Thomas before moving his eyes back down. The grip on his shirt tightened as he slowly lifted the fabric.

“Hey now—”

“Answer my question.” Saparata immediately dismissed him as he saw the loosened and stained bandage underneath the clothing, “Thomas.” He then says softly, laced with a worried and concerned tone in his voice.

Thomas sighed as he left Saparata. Softly loosening the bandages even more to get a glimpse of the wound, he’d assume. He opened his mouth to answer, “Was shot by an arrow… or two a while back.”

Saparata sighed back, his eyebrows furrowed, “Of course.” There was bitterness in his voice this time, yet there was still that underlying and undeniable worried tone deep in him. “I’d assume you don’t know who.”

Thomas shook his head as if Saparata was even looking at him, “I’d say a Pandorian, though,” he slightly laughed.

“Obviously.” Saparata says in response as he fully unwraps the bandages that were around Thomas’s torso, “Grab the basket,” he ordered the other and looked into his eyes.

Thomas stared right back into the other man’s pupils. They remained like that for a few seconds before he nodded and picked up the basket beside him. Saparata was rolling the used bandages and holding onto them. He then grabbed Thomas’s unoccupied palm and took him back to his home. Thomas noticed that Saparata had a tighter squeeze now compared to earlier.

Upon their arrival at Saparata’s residence, he was immediately brought to Saparata’s empty room and rummaged through his storage boxes and drawers. Thomas was told to sit on one of the seats inside the room.

“Take off your shirt,” was all Saparata said as he took out a clean bandage from a box and then a spare robe from his drawer, as he turned back to look at Thomas, “Now.”

Thomas scoffed as he took off the yellow scarf he wore around his neck, then his suspenders, before he took off his purple jacket, “There’s more to it than just my shirt,” he sighs like it was a bother doing this.

“Get changed,” Saparata commanded as he threw the bandage and shirt towards Thomas’s direction. The brunette had caught both of them as he glanced down to look at what was tossed to him for a little while before he looked back at Saparata, who was now looking in the opposite direction. “Make sure you tightly wrap your bandages this time.”

Thomas’s eyebrows furrowed as he took his shirt off in a swift motion and let the roll of gauze bandage fall loose as he began wrapping it around his torso by himself, making it tight but not too tight to cut off his breathing.

He then looked at the robe that he had placed beside him before he took it back into his palm. Thomas unfolded the clothing and lifted it over his head to wear it. It was a bit small for him, but bigger than any of Saparata’s clothing he’d assume; perhaps it was tailored wrong. Thomas stood up from the seat to properly wear the clothing.

“You can turn around now,” Thomas said, and Saparata turned his body back toward Thomas’s direction. As Saparata stared at Thomas in his new attire, probably unfamiliar and unusual for the other man.

Saparata slowly stepped closer to him, real close, and reached two hands to tightly secure the robe, tying it with the fabric to properly secure it. Saparata moved his eyes up to look at Thomas with an unreadable look, as if the brunette could even read him to begin with, upon his stay here.

Thomas was then yanked down by Saparata to his surprise, their faces close to each other. The brunette, surprised by this action, furrowed his eyebrows as he could only stare into the pupils of Saparata, who was looking back into his own.

“You look unfamiliar.” Saparata softly says, and he softly smiles, “It’s good. Unrecognisable,” he continued to tell Thomas.

Unrecognisable?

So was Saparata.

Thomas glared at Saparata as the other let go of his grip on him. Saparata moved away and looked at Thomas. Now, the face was clear, a small, sad smile before it was dropped with a serious expression.

“You can’t leave here, Thomas,” Saparata claims.

“Live, as in reside? Or leave—”

“Leave, as in going away. You can’t, you have to stay.” Saparata answered immediately, as if he had made up his mind, that Thomas wasn’t going to leave.

Not that Thomas told him he would, he hadn’t.

“I didn’t say I was going to,” Thomas responded with that, and Saparata nodded before he turned around and began walking towards the door.

“We can continue picking apples tomorrow. I’ll start dinner.”

Thomas nodded and watched as Saparata walked out of the room, leaving Thomas alone and confused. Thomas looked down at the new clothes that were lent to him. It felt weird wearing something new.

How out of character for Saparata. Then again, Thomas doesn’t really know the real Saparata, doesn’t he?

Saparata made him wash the dishes that night.

—

Thomas wasn’t awakened by Saparata the next day, at least not too early, and later than the usual time from the past two days he had been woken up by the other. Saparata’s way of waking him that morning, however, was rougher and forced, making sure Thomas was awake the first time he tried.

Thomas would groan and frown as he flutters his eyes open, shifting in his bed to look directly into a Saparata who was glaring at him. The brunette blinked for a bit and then yawned as he opened his mouth, “Good Morning,” he said.

Saparata scoffed. He stood up straight and crossed his arms as he glared down at Thomas, who was still laying down on the mattress. Saparata answered with a bitter tone, “You misplaced some of the dishes yesterday.”

“What—”

Saparata immediately cuts him off, as he continued talking, “I cannot find the pot, despite it being big in size. The spatula was placed in a different cabinet. Where on earth did you put the cooking pot, Thomas?!”

Thomas frowned as he shifted in his bed to sit up, looking into Saparata’s face properly, his sigh synced into his long yawn, “You woke me up because of that?”

“You cannot be going around and misplacing my tools and materials in my home, Thomas! At least ask me first, ugh!” Saparata furrowed his eyebrows, “Find the cooking pot,” he demanded of Thomas before he turned around and stormed out of the room.

Thomas groaned once more. He shifted around the bed a bit more and got up. The robe that was lent to him was still worn by him; he didn’t really have any other clothing. Perhaps Saparata would lend him more of his spare clothes.

The brunette stood up from the bed, moving his hand towards his face to rub his eye. Thomas walked outside the guest room and walked to the kitchen, where Saparata was waiting for him in the corner; he was still glaring at him. Thomas tiredly sighs as he gets to work on finding the cooking pot he had misplaced last night while washing the dishes.

He doesn’t understand why Saparata was this upset at him when he hadn’t given him a proper tour or guidance; it wasn’t like he was washing him while tidying up their dishes last evening, as well, though perhaps it was Thomas’s own fault as well for not asking. Still, though, Saparata should’ve told him.

It didn’t take him long to spot it in one of the kitchen cabinets. He reached out a hand to grab it and place it on top of a counter. He then turns around to Saparata, who was still glaring at him.

“That wasn’t supposed to be there.” Saparata frowned as he walked towards Thomas and took the cooking pot from him, “Too late for breakfast, I’m gonna start on lunch,” was all he said before he turned around from Thomas to bring the pot to the sink to pour water into it.

Thomas’s eyebrows had furrowed, sighed, and he turned around. The two will share another meal. They were mostly silent the entire time, like they usually are when eating. Saparata had asked about the current state of his wounds and had offered to wrap and unwrap his bandages later; Saparata did so after the two finished their meal. He was brought back to their spare room, sat on the edge of his bed; apparently, Saparata moved a few rolls of bandages over there instead.

He was oddly gentle when wrapping his wounds with the unused bandages. Thomas really didn’t know how to feel about it, but it did leave him a strange lingering feeling in his stomach, something indescribable.

When Saparata was finished, he stood up from where he had knelt while he covered Thomas’s wound. He looked down at Thomas to say something. He explained how he had to go somewhere again and that he’s going to be out for quite some time. All Thomas did was nod.

“We can pick apples after I get home.” Saparata reaches Thomas’s palm to squeeze it, reassuring him to resume their apple picking from yesterday.

Thomas sighs in relief, “Alright. And by we, you mean me?” he tilts his head to the side and curls his lips upward into a knowing smirk.

Saparata chuckled as he let go of Thomas’s hand, moving back from where Thomas was. He then turned around to exit the bedroom, shutting the door on his way out. As if expecting Thomas would stay there.

The brunette sighed and threw himself back onto his bed, lying on his back. He closed his eyes and tried to drift back into sleep. That turns into a failure as his eyes blink open just minutes after he closed them. He couldn’t take a nap, and he was clearly bored out of his mind.

Wanting to do something, he got off his bed once more and stood on the ground. Thomas exits the room, and a quiet and empty house is revealed. Today Saparata tasked him with nothing to do, and he was clearly bored.

Thomas was lost; he needed to cure his boredom. It’ll be hours before Saparata returns to their home. His home. What was he talking about?

Something then came into his mind. His lips curled up into a smile upon recollection of this. He wanted to fix his tools, weapons and armour. There was only one way to, and that is why he had asked Saparata to let him go on a mining expedition, and he was really upset when Saparata hadn’t allowed him to. Perhaps now he could see that the other man was away, and he didn’t have anything else to do.

Thomas left the island to find a good cave to begin his expedition.

—

Thomas returned to the island later than he had thought; the sun was about to set in under an hour. That would be a fault of his, as he got too caught up in mining. Thomas walked back to Saparata’s home only to find him standing outside with a worried look on his face.

Saparata arrived before he did.

Thomas could feel his chest tightening at the sight before him until Saprata noticed his presence, and the other immediately dashed toward him, yelling his name in concern. Thomas would soon call the other’s name back in return until the other had curled his fist and slightly hit Thomas’s shoulder.

“You idiot—! Where the hell did you go?!” Saparata yelled at him, “I was worried sick!” he continued, he had a shaky voice.

“I—”

“Hadn’t I told you that you can’t go outside, what if someone sees you?!”

“You said that I look unrecognisable,” Thomas replied.

Saparata gritted his teeth, “That doesn’t mean you should go out.”

“All I did was go mining.”

“I could’ve done that for you!”

“I didn’t know what else to do, Saps!”

“Don’t fucking call me—”

Saparata paused and then moved his hand to grip onto Thomas’s.

“Don’t call me Saps.”

Thomas's eyebrows furrowed, glaring at Saparata’s face, “What do you expect me to do? Wait for you while I do nothing back here?”

“Yes.”

This is suffocating.

Thomas chuckled bitterly, “That’s cruel.”

“Says you,” the other harshly replied.

“Do not turn this around me, Sa– Saparata! You’re the one who asked me to stay. You cannot expect me to be alone, though, with nothing, Saparata! You cannot expect me to sit here and do nothing as I wait for you to return. I’m a man who needs to do something through life, but I cannot; that is not how I operate as a person. I live off of doing something meaningful.”

“Thomas,” Saparata opened his mouth to speak, voice steady, “I’m only looking out for you—”

“You don’t need to, and I never told you to! God, Saparata, I’m not fragile, I won’t break as soon as I step foot off of this island! I can defend myself and stand on my ground. I know how to fight back when someone tries to attack me. Shouldn’t how I lived for so long be enough evidence as it is?”

“I know you can protect yourself, Thomas, that isn’t what I meant! You’re being so difficult right now.”

“You’re the one being so difficult. You can’t restrict me like this.”

Suffocating.

“You didn’t need to stay. You’re the one who came here!”

Thomas begins to wonder why he did.

“Not to stay.”

“And yet you did.”

Thomas frowned, he did. “This can’t keep going on, Saps.” He says.

“Stop-”

“I never planned to stay.” He pauses.

“But when Fluixon asks you, you would, wouldn’t you?” Saparata says in a bitter and harsh tone, glaring directly into Thomas’s eyes, that it made his skin crawl.

Thomas chuckled, as he pulled his hand away from Saparata, at least tried to, the other remained a tight grip on it, “You’re wrong.”

“I’m right. You’re such a—”

“Lapdog?” Thomas scoffed, “You may be right, but…” He paused, and a voice rang in his ear.

“Run,” came from the voice of Fluixon.

Thomas softly grinned, “I’m going against his final order.”

He’s not running away; he tried to honour Fluixon’s last words, his final request, he really did. But he couldn’t hide away, be alone like that, it’s too cruel even. For once in his life, he’s doing something for himself, something meaningful and life changing, a powerful choice, and he stands firm to it until he arrived to Saparata’s.

Why did he?

Thomas should’ve just turned himself in instead of coming to Saparata, though… perhaps, he wanted to make amends before he goes.

“But if he were alive,” Saparata then began talking once more, “Would you?” he asks as if he knew what Fluixon had told Thomas to do.

That question hits through his chest sharper than it should. Saparata read him like a book. It was terrifying and suffocating. Saparata keeps trying to pry into him, and he knows him. Thomas wishes he knew Saparata just the same; one thing he knew about the other is that they’re the same when it comes to the man being talked about.

“If he were alive and he asked you to stay with him…”

Thomas remained silent for a moment until he sighed, “I would,” he replied and shut his eyes without hesitation.

He isn’t doing this for himself, isn’t he? He wants to follow after Fluixon, the conspiracy, and everyone he had lost. Even if there was Saparata, even if he was here with him. Thomas couldn’t, no matter how much Saparata meant to him. The other was his friend, but he caused pain and suffering to him; he was part of every bit.

The two were incompatible, and it didn’t take a week to find that out to a great extent, but truthfully, if it were a different case, Thomas would have liked to stay. But not like this, not while being sheltered and treated as if he were some kind of charity case, as if he were something to be kept hidden. Because if someone were to visit Saparata one day and saw Thomas with him, how would they react to Saparata harbouring the last of the conspirator? Thomas has caused enough harm as he did to the man he calls his friend.

Saparata stepped closer and moved both his hands, still holding one of Thomas’s and placed them against his cheeks. “And with me.”

Thomas shook his head, “I can’t do this to you,” he frowns as he admits, “I shouldn’t have come here in the first place, but I guess… I just wanted to see you one last time.

“You’re cruel,” Saparata mutters out, “I never want to see you again.” he stands on his tiptoes and grabs onto Thomas’s clothing, yanking the other down to rest his forehead against the other’s.

Thomas could only nod and closed his eyes as he rested his own against Saparata’s. One of his hand still held by the other that was placed against his cheek.

“Wanted you to stay…” Saparata mumbled in a whisper.

“It’s dangerous, I can’t do that to you. If someone visits—”

“I know. I just could not… lose a friend,” Saparata confesses, voice still soft, “Not again… God, I hate you, you shouldn’t have shown up.”

Thomas frowned and answered, “I know.”

“Stay…” a final plea from the other, and it sounded more desperate than before.

Thomas slowly blinked his eyes open and stared into Saparata, who was looking back at him. The brunette could only frown.

“No.”

—

Thomas had turned himself in the following day; he returned Saparata’s robe that he had lent. Saparata decided to put it away somewhere, not that he’d ever use it again. They exchanged their final words, final glance, and final touch with Saparata would and squeezed both of Thomas’s palms this time. Thomas, who had moved his hands toward Saparata’s cheeks and gently held them, for the first and final time.

“We never finished picking apples,” Saparata said with a sad and unfulfilled tone. His eyes shuts ass he leans into Thomas’s touch.

“You mean me?” Thomas chuckled softly, lightening the mood.

Saparata nodded, fluttered his eyes open again, and stared into Thomas’s eyes, who returned his gaze. They locked their eyes onto each other like that, staring, all but staring.

Thomas removed his palms from Saparata’s face and brought them back down, and he decided to squeeze the brunette’s hand tighter, not wanting to let go.

“Saps,” Thomas began, “I’m sorry.”

Saparata shook his head, “I know.”

That was their final interaction, but not the final time they saw one another, because Saparata was at Thomas’s trial on that same day, as Thomas’s prosecutor. It reminded him a lot of when Thomas was his prosecutor a few months ago. The entire time Saparata couldn’t look away from the brunette, and he knew that the other couldn’t with him either. As Thomas defended himself and Saparata argued back, the two couldn’t look away even as they put up a ‘front.’

And as Thomas delivered his final speech, to convince the jury one last time, he opened his mouth and said the words he had time to write. Saparata wasn’t sure when he had written this out, but if he had always prepared to turn himself in, he’d assume before he even visited him.

“To the people of this Island, I am considered the enemy, but traitors of the land we are not; our cause for unity against Yggdrasil was not an act of betrayal but an act of love and protection for Pandora, and its people. We saw the flaws of the previous leaders who were against our plans and hadn’t seen them through their blindness and carelessness. We wanted to correct them, as Fluixon’s, the Architect’s Engineer, I directly saw these flaws of each world leader within this island. You may see my colleagues and me as villains, but we did nothing but stand for what is right, what will continue protecting the people and nations of Pandora as the borders drop. We never betrayed Pandora, we never betrayed the people of Luminara. Me, the engineer, Fluixon as my- our architect; Snowbird, the diplomat; Gotoga, the trapper; Rotation, the brawler; Seraphim, the dagger; Newkids, the unknown—I defend their honour and ask you to remember their legacy. I ask not for forgiveness nor mercy in sparing my life, but I defend them and myself in saying we did nothing wrong. Furthermore, we regret nothing—”

Thomas had paused his speech and stared back at Saparata as he said those last words. The man saw Thomas open his mouth and moved his lips to say something inaudible to anyone, mouthing words that Saparata could catch.

“Only one thing.”

Betraying Saparata was what Thomas regretted. Saparata knows.

“That is all.” Thomas closed his speech like that and bowed with his head, eyes remaining fixated on the ground as the jury deliberated their final decision. Thomas didn’t look into Saparata anymore, but the man’s eyes remained focused on the other.

The jury would make their decision, Thomas was found guilty and sentenced to death via execution. Thomas still stared at the ground. Saparata kept his eyes on Thomas, not looking away even once, and as Thomas was slowly brought to where he was meant to be executed, he remained staring at the ground, not looking at anyone.

That was until Saparata was called to the front, asked to pull the lever, after everything the brunette put him through, and the man did so, moved closer to Thomas and locked his eyes onto him, and Thomas returned the gaze once again upon realization on who was near.

Saparata moved his hand and reached for the lever that was connected to redstone. He gripped it as he looked into Thomas one last time.

Thomas had smiled, and it was wider than what he’d ever seen before from the man, even back before everything had happened. The smile was as if it were a farewell, their final exchange, their final memory. It was, it’ll be the final time the two would see each other.

At least, Saparata was the one who’d do this. Once again.

Saparata wanted to return a smile towards Thomas but couldn’t; everything felt too bitter, too cruel. Thomas really is cruel.

Thomas mouthed something, but Saparata’s vision began to blur to fully understand what was said, even as he tried to understand what it could be.

A tighter gripped onto the lever as he pulled it down, his eyes remained open and staring, only to shut them moments before the dripstone pierced into Thomas’s skull. He couldn’t watch it again. Opening his eyes was a mistake as he saw the detailed body that was once alive and breathing just moments ago.

| Thomas5200 was skewered by a falling stalagmite.