Actions

Work Header

So don’t worry, honey, you’ll go right back (Where you started from)

Summary:

Dark splotches were covered by a thin layer of snow. Flame paused, staring at the trail they created.

or:
All roads lead to imperial fire duo

Notes:

this turned out longer that I’ve planned lol

ok so this was requested by Zylithviper, and I hope to meet your expectations

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Wemmbu was fed up with the stale air that filled his cave. It was a carved out 8x8 space in the side of a mountain. While it wasn't the usual residence he'd go for, Wemmbu had to acknowledge that it was easier to hide it.

 

He swore he paced it tens of thousands of times, learning every irregularity in the stone walls. He only left to gather food, and even that was a once in a while event, as he recently started his own farm.

 

Wemmbu knows he shouldn't go out. He isn't prepared, his body still hurt. Only maybe a week ago was he able to sit up straight without needing the wall to prevent him from collapsing.

 

He wouldn't be walking that far, if he did leave. His energy drained fast, leaving him both mentally and physically exhausted. Right now, he's been laying in his bed, staring at the ceiling for about as long as he could remember since waking up.

 

It was boring.

 

Maybe he should take a breath of fresh air. Nothing more, especially since he was this weak. (Wemmbu hated the way fear crawled up in his skin, making his heart rate speed up every time he stepped outside. He loved that it made him feel something.)

 

Reluctantly, he got up, stabilizing himself before stepping towards the exit. It was far from automatic, as he deemed it enough to mine to exit. Cool air hit him as he stepped outside, his hair shifting with the gentle wind.

 

He glanced up, the shine of the moon reflecting in his eyes. Stars dotted the skyline, blinking peacefully out of sync. Wemmbu closed his eyes, taking a deep breath of fresh air as he boosted himself off the ground.

 

The wind rushing past his ears, blowing the hair out of his face made him miss the clouds that gathered in front of him and the shadow that trailed from the ground. By the time he ran out of energy to use his wings, he was already at least a couple thousand blocks away.

 

Imagine his surprised (pained) scream when an arrow shot out of nowhere, piercing his wing. Before he could turn around, a sword aimed for his core, barely getting blocked by a shield. Wemmbu was not prepared enough for this fight.

 

He splashed the last of his potions on himself, not bothering to check what they were. His heart raced, mind concentrated on dodging Lettuce's hits. All he needed was an opening to pearl away.

 

He was pushed on the ground, breathless from the impact. But then, Lettuce was distracted by a branch breaking, thank fucking god for it, allowing Wemmbu to kick him in the face and pearl away.

 

His side was bleeding. His knees were bruised. His ribs ached and his frozen wings-

 

His wings were a painful sight. Feathers ruffled, with empty patches all over them. A rip where the arrow was torn out of. They hung limply on his back, pulling him down and sending chills through his body when they shifted.

 

He used two entire stacks of ender pearls, pausing when his mind got too dizzy to stay upright. Goddamn his fucking need for fresh air. Wemmbu was in the middle of nowhere, resting against a tree in a snowy biome.

 

He could feel the blood dripping down, staining the snow red. He couldn't stop here, not now. He had to run. He needs to run, to get away, even if the cold bit his skin and snow wet his hair, making him shiver.

 

Wemmbu let out a muffled whimper as he forced one leg in front of the other. As soon as he got far enough he'll stop and rest and dig a hole in the ground where he could ask Flame to light up a fire-

 

Well. He couldn't ask Flame. He could've, two and a half weeks ago. But not anymore. That's fine, he told himself, ignoring the dulled ache forming in his chest, along with the tears that unwillingly spilled from his eyes.

 

He pretended that he wasn't crying because he was cold and alone again, but instead because of the way walking pulled at his wounds. His vision was starting to blur, dark dots making their way in the corner of his eyes.

 

Everything hurts, he thought to himself as he fell in the snow with a defeated whine. He pulled his knees up, his arms weakly wrapped around them. Maybe he'll close his eyes, just for a minute.

 

Blood stained the white snow around him. One of his wings was spread under him, the other numbly falling in the snow. His frosted breath slowed as flakes piled on top of him.

 

Flame was rudely awaken by Ashen barking in his ear. He groaned, rubbing his eyes. The sun wasn't even fully risen, but Ashen just had to wake him up. Flame sighed, running a hand through Ashen's fur as he got up.

 

He was probably hungry, he thought, throwing him some leftover cooked stake from the fridge. Wagging his tail, Ashen bit into it and proceeded to ignore Flame's existence.

 

Flame sat at the table of his little cabin, a small, secret building reserved for when he needed a break. It was hidden deep into the snowy mountains, in a small clearing surrounded by trees, somewhere no one would search for a netherborn.

 

There was another layer of snow that fell overnight. It made his mouth twitch, thinking of how he had to go out to patrol. After all, Flame couldn't stand not being sure no one was around.

 

Despite the assumptions most of the others made, netherborns resisted quite well in the biting chill of winter. He put on a coat just for completing his outfit before starting the thought out route.

 

It was a familiar activity, one that he did with his mind absent, fully on autopilot. Nothing ever happened nor changed around his cabin. Nothing should've been out of the ordinary now either, but is seems that fate had other plans.

 

Dark splotches were covered by a thin layer of snow. Flame paused, staring at the trail they created. An aimal, perhaps? But there weren't any animals that left uneven, harsh traces next to their steps.

 

The sun wasn't fully up. He could go check where it led to. He had enough gear to escape if he had to, but no one truly smart would challenge him.

 

The trail was messy, stumbling from tree to tree. Flame was sure this wasn't a wild animal. A player, a hurt player. What would they be doing here, so far out from society?

 

Hiding, his brain supplied. He guessed it was a good reason, but hiding didn't emply bleeding out in the snow. The clearing he reached wasn't that far from his cabin, his mind supplied again while his heart stilled, along with his entire body.

 

A familiar shape was huddled under a thin layer of snow. Dark purple wings were surrounded by a red circle, along with Wemmbu's frame. What the fuck, Flame thought, ignoring the way concern pulled at his insides.

 

"Wemmbu." Flame said harshly, crouching next to him. Unsurprisingly, there was no response.

 

Wemmbu's chest barely moved. "Bro, get up. This shit ain't funny." he continued, brushing snow off him.

 

He grimaced at the coldness of the other's body. He chewed at his lip as he observed the open gash at his side and his torn wings, matching his clothes.

 

Clothes too thin for this place, for this weather. How long has he been out for?

 

He shouldn't have left this idiot alone, Flame bitterly told himself, a spike of pain and undisclosed fear slicing his heart. He picked Wemmbu up without hesitation. Wemmbu didn't stir.

 

Flame sprinted back to his cabin, trying to calm himself down. His cabin was warmer than the usual building, but it wasn't enough to assure Wemmbu didn't freeze to death.

 

Ashen bopped his leg confused, but he didn't have time for him. He brought Wemmbu to his bedroom, being the warmest room in his cabin as he did like sleeping in an environment similar to the nether.

 

It wasn't warm enough, his mind betrayed him even as he laid Wemmbu under two of his thickest blankets. He kneeled next to the bed, helplessness crawling in his chest.

 

It hit him like a truck after a while that he still had open wounds on his body. He swore under his breath, grabbing the medkit he had in his bathroom and cleaning the gash on his side.

 

It wasn't as bad as it seemed, but it did need stitches, Flame concluded. He worked with a practiced ease, calming himself with the familiar rhythm of disinfecting then patching up scratches.

 

At some point, Wemmbu started to shiver, his breathing spiking slightly. Flame was working on the small cuts from his right arm. He pushed Wemmbu up against the headboard as his back started to hurt from being hunched over him.

 

His hands were still gentle, but the soft way he poured antiseptic on the wounds disappeared, assuming Wemmbu wouldn't feel anything. His wings were still wet, as well as his hair, but Flame didn't know what to do about it.

 

He ran hot like a heater, as Wemmbu made sure to let him know while being teammates, but it's not like he could actually heat him up. (Wemmbu used to crawl up next to him and steal his warmth while waiting for his long, silky hair to dry.)

 

Flame paused before the last deeper wound. It doesn't need any stitches, just some tight and meticulous gauze. He soaked a clean cloth in antiseptic and didn't hesitate to slide it over the scratch.

 

He didn't expect Wemmbu to jump, smacking the cloth down and flinching away. He let out a pained cry whe his stomach pulled, wings stiff. His chest heaved and his other hand clutched at the gash on his side.

 

His shivering didn't cease. If anything, it increased with the fear that filled his eyes. Unsurprisingly, Wemmbu eventually sneezed and it sent him into a coughing fit.

 

His cry pulled Flame out of his stunned silence and he pinned him against the headboard, his arms holding on his shoulders. Tears welled up in Wemmbu's eyes, but the coughing stopped.

 

Silence settled between them, heavy with unanswered questions. Flame's hands left his shoulders, cold replacing them. Grateful eyes met Flame's blindfold, or where his blindfold was supposed to be.

 

It took Flame a couple of minutes to notice his eyes were out in the open. He looked away, standing up. Flame was ready to walk out of the room to get a blindfold, if it wasn't for the quiet whine that accompanied Wemmbu's poor attempt at speaking.

 

Flame slowly turned around and saw Wemmbu shyly extending a hand. It was trembling, a quite embarrassing fail holding it still, but an attempt nonetheless. As soon as he was close enough, he felt cold, slim fingers wrap around his wrist. It wasn't tight, the feeling barely noticeable, but it was there.

 

Wemmbu opened his mouth to say something, but Flame took initiative first. "Don't." he proceeded to look through his inventory, taking out a healing pot and handing it to him. "Drink it, talk after. You don't want to hurt your throat, do you bro?"

 

Wemmbu glared at Flame when the potion was brought to his mouth, but didn't resist drinking it. He savored the sweet taste. "Thanks." he said, testing his raspy voice.

 

Flame's hand hovered above his sternum as a precaution for the way his breath hitched like it did before coughing. Wemmbu took a moment to regain his breath before leaning forward on Flame's hand. His eyes closed and his fingers tightened against his wrist.

 

He shivered, chasing the warmth that radiated off of Flame's body. His hair fell ungraciously over his shoulders, carrying the chill from being wet. His wings weren't any better.

 

Tears fell from his eyes, silent and unwanted. His breath hitched and he forced himself to pull away. His hand reluctantly let go of Flame's and he threw his legs over the side of the bed, using the frame as support.

 

"Where do you think you're going?" Flame asked from next to him, golden eyes piercing the side of his head.

 

"None of your business." he said so softly Flame would've missed it if he wasn't standing next to him. Confusion clouded his eyes, but he didn't make any move to get closer to Wemmbu than he already was.

 

"Bro, I just found you bleeding in the fucking woods. I'll be damned if I let you leave when your wings- your hair isn't even dry!" he sounded exasperated and concerned. It almost made Wemmbu turn around.

 

"You found me. You took me. I didn't agree." Wemmbu argued and he stepped towards the door.

 

"What's there to agree to? I'll remember next time I see you a breath away from death to let you meet her." he retorted, placing himself in front of the door.

 

Wemmbu glared up at him. "Sure, I'll stay here like a sitting duck waiting for you to grab a knife to stab my back with." he growled, a weak sound as he tried to push Flame out of his way.

 

The bite in his words wasn't missed. Neither was the deep sense of pain that Flame knew Wemmbu tried to bury before talking. He, once again, looked away with shame.

 

"You're not leaving." he muttered, making Wemmbu freeze. He was close enough to have to look upwards at his face.

 

"I'm not leaving? Get a grip, Flame." he tried to push past him but miserably failed. He stumbled, feeling Flame's arms wrap around him and bring him to a warm chest.

 

He stared coughing and, despite how angry he was, gratefulness made its way through him as Flame held him upright. His wings twitched, making him tense. There was still a tear in them, from the stupid arrow.

 

"It's freezing outside. I promise you that the moment you step out the door is the moment you pass out again. I'd rather not have to mop you from my front porch." Flame argued, voice wavering as he avoided saying something.

 

"I'll manage. Don't think you want me bothering you anymore either." bitterness still lingered in his tone although it was dulled out.

 

Flame moved one of his hands around his shoulders, carefully avoiding his wings. He took a deep breath, pushing Wemmbu away. "I'm so sorry." he whispered, emotion filling both his voice and his eyes.

 

His eyes, those two precious little things. They betrayed too much of what was actually going on in Flame's mind. The way they drooped with sadness and regret, so expressive-

 

Wemmbu suddenly realized why Flame had a blindfold.

 

Reluctantly, he relaxed in Flame's grip, soaking up the warmth he disposed of. He felt the tension from Flame's shoulders dissipate and he was guided back to the bed.

 

However, when Flame decided to leave, Wemmbu made sure he knew that it wasn't an option. He pulled him down, wrapping his wings around his frame. Flame was stunned, but adjusted easily to spoon Wemmbu.

 

One of his hands was pressing him into his chest while the other ran through his hair, gradually drying it. Wemmbu's wings found their way hugging Flame, stealing heat for themselves.

 

Wemmbu's head was resting in the crook of Flame's neck, nuzzling closer to his warmed up pillow every now and then. He felt his breathing even out, the cold leaving his bones.

 

He shifted one last time, tightening the arms around Flame's waist. "Please don't leave." he managed to mutter, voice vulnerable and filled with sincerity and fragile trust.

 

"I won't. I'll be here even you wake up. I promise."

Notes:

soooooo I hope y’all enjoyed

lmk what you think of it

and as always, have a good day/night and take care!