Chapter Text
Eishia and Semiu are waiting for them when Gris smoothly pulls the jeep into HQ. Eishia looks incredibly nervous, while Semiu has the same piercing look on her face as always.
Enjin waves from the rolled down window as Gris parks the car. “Hey Girl! Got us a little surprise!”
Semiu is not surprised. Semiu already knows, because Enjin had whispered it frantically to her while Regto was having a little breakdown holding a not-a-trash-beast-oops-its-a-boy! That he called his son. It went a little something like -
Hey girl.
Enjin.
What if I told you Regto’s dead son was uhhhh not so dead, huh?
… What.
Yep. We will be on our way back. Prep the infirmary its uh… bad.
And here Semiu was. All prepared and everything.
“Enjin.” Semiu says, before her gaze shifts to the rest of the team, piling out of the car. “Regto.”
Regto doesn’t respond. When Enjin turns to look, the man looks both lighter and more haggard than he has in years. His son still lies, cradled in his arms, with his still twitching hands settled against Regto’s chest. They had been spasming the entire time in painful jerks and thumps that Enjin could not entirely drown out, even with the music in the car. Rudo had been completely knocked out though… not a single noise from his lips. Only Regto’s voice, a soft murmur of comfort into Rudo’s hair, and the soulful tones of Too Lily over the radio had filled the car on the ride home.
“And… Rudo.” Semiu continues, looking at the boy. Enjin can relate to the hesitant tone in her voice. Rudo looks… bad. Enjin’s seen a lot of fucked up stuff over the years, a lot of people from a lot of desperate places but… man. The world seriously fucked this kid over. Dirt and grime and blood and bruises cover the kid like a second skin. His clothes are scuffed, worn, and torn, his face just barely clinging to the baby fat on his cheeks in a way that speaks of starvation instead of growing up. His limbs are really, really thin. Muscle more than fat, and stringy at best.
Semiu’s hand traces up to her vital instrument, activating it with just a touch. Golden glow falls across her face for just a second, before her hand taps away. There’s a look on her face, that gets covered up too quickly for most to notice - including Regto.
But not Enjin.
Fear. Thats what that expression was. Not for Rudo, but of Rudo.
“He needs help. A lot of it. But he’s got foundations… and a vital instrument.” Semiu announces, eyes critical before she nudges Eishia forward.
“His gloves.” Regto speaks for the first time, his eyes finally straying from his boy.
“Yes.”
His gloves, Enjin notes, with the Watchman symbol on them. He remembers Regto’s words, whispered as they found Amo alone in her tower. For those who are missing a piece of them… who have a hole in them that the world has ripped out in its cruelty… these instruments are a balm. Are an easement of pain. For anyone else…
Insanity.
Amo, brat though she is, needed those boots.
Rudo, Enjin is sure, needs those gloves. He was rabid and feral, but in the desperate kind of way. Not insanity.
He’s just another stray, ready to fall with his father under Enjin’s umbrella. Enjin is more than happy to welcome them in.
“Well - um - Mr. Regto, if you could follow me I can - I can um take care of him in the infirmary…” Eishia mumbles pressing her fingers together nervously before reaching up to fiddle with her vital instrument.
Regto’s eyes soften, in the way they always do when the young kiddies speak to him. “Thank you Eishia. Lead the way.”
Enjin hangs back as the rest of the group departs; Team Child, to a bedtime routine, the Supporters, to mission report and vehicle drop off, and Regto and Rudo, to the infirmary.
When its just him and Semiu standing out there in the open, he drops his tone, his fingers curling more tightly around Umbreaker’s handle. “Well?”
“That boy needs help, Enjin. More than maybe anyone can give him.”
“Even his pops?”
“Even Regto. There was just this… this…” Her arms cross tight across her chest. “Darkness in him. Loss. Grief.” She pauses, eyes flashing to Enjin. “He’ll bite, Enjin.”
Enjin hums. “Most strays do.” Riyo did. Zanka has, in his own way. Regto hasn’t yet, but Enjin sure it’ll happen now, now that big bird has his baby bird back in the nest. “He’s just a kid.”
They both know that doesn’t matter. “He’ll bite bad. Worst you have ever seen. Just be ready for it. Boss is comin’ back soon, by the way. Tomorrow, actually.” Enjin grins, shifting from foot to foot.
“He wanted to meet Regto’s little miracle?”
“Wanted to see what you dragged back this time. Go watch over your strays,” Semiu ends, pushing Enjin towards the entrance. “I know you want to check in. I’ll handle mission debrief with Gris and Bro.”
“Thanks boo,” Enjin waves. “You’re the best!”
Less paperwork and more worries. Yippeeee….
- - -
When Enjin reaches the infirmary, Rudo is already laid out on a bed, shirt and shoes off, with Eishia and Regto hovering over him. Enjin slides in and settles in to lead against the wall to the side of the bed.
And yikes. Rudo somehow looks worse, laid out on the bed like some porcelain doll. His chest is all ribs and bruises, his arms still shaking against the blanket, and head tilted lightly to the right. Eishia’s hands trail down his side, noting the injuries and scrapes as they come up.
“Broken rib… no two, left side. Abrasions on both sides, heavier on the left… dislocated right shoulder… contusions on the back. Poor breathing… Possible concussion…” Her words are a rapid murmur and with every phrase, the look on Regto’s face tightens. She looks up to him, hesitating before she asks. “Do - you - um. Is this body weight normal for him?”
Regto pauses. “No. He… well… malnutrition was a common battle up ‘north’. I… struggled to get enough food for us, and Rudo struggled to eat sometimes. His arms…” Regto gestures to the twitching limbs. “He was hurt, very badly as a child. His gloves help tremendously but during flare-ups and some other times, he would disassociate and refuse to eat.” Enjin ‘s heart clenches, an odd tightness filling his chest. Fuck.
Eishia nods, atypically focused as she moves from examining the kid’s chest to going down his legs, noting aloud a twisted ankle and potentially fractured femur. Once done, she sits back and reaches for a bowl of water and some fresh towels set to the side. “What we will do is clean him of the worst of the debris on him, and start working on his arms. I can use my instrument to heal him of the worst of everything, then I’ll insert an IV, get him on some fluids and get him some energy back. We’ll put him on oxygen if his breathing doesn’t improve after that.” She sets the bowl on a table close to Regto, and gets to work, professional in every aspect.
Regto gives a small nod, and reaches for his own towel. While Eishia starts with Rudo’s legs, Regto starts with his face. With a tenderness Enjin has never seen, he begins scrubbing the dirt and blood away. Bit by bit, the boy underneath the grime comes through. Still bruised, with dark smudges under his eyes, but miles better than before.
Enjin busies himself with poking around the infirmary, not willing to leave or participate. “When do you think he’ll wake up, Eishia?”
She gives a little nervous hum. “Ummm… most likely when I heal him. I’d want him to be up before so, but if he’s not waking now… I don’t think he will until he gets a shock. He might be too exhausted even then, so I wouldn’t necessarily count on it.”
Enjin hums, and goes back to fiddling with the curtains.
Regto begins carding his fingers through Rudo’s hair, parting the strands and using water to rub the worst of the dried blood off. “Usually he’s a light sleeper, if he can get to sleep at all.”
“How old is he?” Eishia asks, all clinical. Enjin tries to act like he’s not eavesdropping too much, and that he absolutely belongs here, with his new stray.
“Ah… we had to guess. We aren’t entirely sure. I found him just… wandering the streets one day. Right now… he’s maybe fourteen? Maybe fifteen?”
“Really underweight then… Does he have any other health issues, beyond the chronic pain, that you know of?”
Regto dips his rag into the water and goes back to trying to clean the worst of it from Rudo’s scalp, while Eishia moves on to some of the long scrapes and cuts along Rudo’s side. “Some light sensitivity because of his eyes. Otherwise…. Just some mental battles.”
Eishia nods, choosing not to push the issue. The Cleaners are used to struggling folk - no one becomes so attached to an object without reason. Eishia knows it firsthand, Enjin knows, and well… Rudo isn’t here to speak up for himself. But he’s sure the kid knows.
They will get to know the kid. Soon. After he’s got some TLC.
The infirmary falls into a gentle quiet, Eishia having gotten all the questions shes wanted out and falling back into a nervous state, Regto having focused entirely on his son, and Enjin taking a little time to reflect.
A new stray… for Team Akuta of course. A new Spherite, this one potentially more vulnerable than Regto was, and one who has most likely seen the worst of the worst of the ground. Regto at least got a fun light show when he fell and Enjin swooped in. Rudo… maybe not.
His thoughts stop in their tracks though, when he remembers how they first found the kid. Standing in the dark, red eyes glowing, red chains flashing, only to disintegrate later… Rudo’s gloves are something else. The anima that vibrated off of them… insane levels of potential. Rudo had been the last one standing against half an army of adults who wanted him dead or worse.
The joke around the Cleaners is that Enjin collects strays and can’t resist a sad face. This isn’t true, because in this world there’s a lot of sad faces. Enjin collects strays that need something to fight for - that have a fight left in them, that haven’t given up yet on a world that has given up on them. They would have taken in Rudo no matter what - for Regto. But something tells Enjin that this kid is going to fit right in, once he’s all patched up.
A low moan of pain echoes through the room, closer to an animal’s whine then anything else. Enjin’s eyes snap up to where Regto and Eishia have begun working on Rudo’s arms. The kid’s face, perfectly placid before, is now scrunched in pain, arms twitching wildly.
“Shh… Rudo we’re safe. We’re safe.” Regto whispers, not faltering in his work. Eishia, who had nervously paused, follows.
The next noise is a gasp from Eishia. Enjin feels his own breath catch in his chest when he sees why.
Rudo’s arms are not just scarred - they’re black, in striping patterns of blood and pain, torture marks clear and dark on his skin. Not just scars, but active wounds, with blood rising with every twitch of the finger. The fingers are violently curved, hooked like claws, and ever so small without the giant gloves on them. Scorched, burned, and practically destroyed - it was a miracle the boy could move them at all.
Regto moves without pause, taking in his boys skin with clear compassion. He presses the towel gently, letting the water ease dried blood before wiping it away. He doesn’t hesitant, doesn’t let the towel catch on raised skin, doesn’t force the fingers to straighten before they are ready. He just eases the pain, bit by bit.
Enjin can’t bring himself to make any comments, or to ask anymore questions. Not when the task takes such clear focus, such clear devotion. Eishia echoes Regto’s movements, following his lead when it comes to checking the wounds and cleaning the skin.
They finish eventually, and it is then Eishia locks eyes with Enjin before turning to Regto. He has Rudo’s hand cradled in his palm, eyes focused and worried.
“I am going to use my vital instrument now, now that all the debris is gone. I know you haven’t seen it in use before, Mr. Regto, but I am going to need you to take a few steps back It might seem like Rudo is in pain, but I promise you, I am healing him. I am going to uh.. Try and heal his arms too. The wounds are old, so I don’t know how far I will get.”
It takes Regto a second, but he nods eventually, setting Rudo’s hand down with care and stepping back. “Anything that may help him would be appreciated Eishia. Thank you.”
Regto still looks unsure. And that’s where Enjin can finally be of use. He steps up to Regto’s side and places a tattooed hand on his shoulder. It’s restraining and comforting all at once, or so Enjin hopes. The tension lining Regto’s shoulders seems to agree as the single act of comfort lightens the load.
When Regto seems as settled as he can be, Enjin nods to Eishia. Eishia takes a breath, takes off her gloves, and grabs onto her vital instrument.
Enjin doesn’t often have time to observe a giver using their instrument outside of combat. Usually he’s working with Zanka and Riyo, and his advice is more focused on form and technique rather than the instrument itself. Semiu uses hers sparingly, but its always an art to see. With Eishia… usually the situation is dire enough that he can’t necessarily focus on watching her heal. But damn.
Ain’t using your instrument for all it’s worth a thing of beauty?
Eishia’s eyes glow a faint pink as her instrument seems to buzz to life. A tension grows in the air as anima concentrates, a singular focus being drawn between Eishia’s hands and the cord plugged into the wall, a physical energy that seems almost overwhelming. There’s a buzz in the air as the world grows pink-tinted. Eishia rests her hand on Rudo’s bare chest and -
Rudo gasps, arching his back as his hands fling out to the bedsheets, clutching in some sort or reaction, pained or shocked Enjin can’t tell. Regto pushes forward, ready to run to his son on instinct, but Enjin pulls him back, using more strength than he would had thought necessary on the man.
The buzz in the room continues. Before their eyes, the scrapes and bruises fade away into shallow, raised pink scars and yellow marks across the skin if they are there at all. The swelling of his ankle goes down, his side and leg realigning in some subtle way, his body healing at a truly fantastic rate but -
His hands don’t change. Don’t heal. Enjin can physically feel Regto sag with the mix of relief and despair as he notices. The twitching stops, and the spasming and bleeding but the scars remain. The raised lines, the irritated look, the scorched and blackened skin… they all stay. Enjin knew it was a possibility - rarely can Eishia fix long-term scarring - but still. It hurts to see the kid like that.
Probably hurts the kid more, but still. Damn.
With a gasp from Eishia, the buzzing in the room stops and the pink haze lifts. Eishia steps back, lifting her hand away from Rudo’s puffing chest as she goes to remove Type:Heal from the wall with almost reverent care. She’s still and calm, confident in the way she only ever gets after a successful heal. Rudo, in comparison, without all the twitching and spasming looks almost dead with how still and pale his body has become.
Eishia looks at Regto. “He’s healed from the majority of his physical wounds. His hands… I couldn’t do much. For chronic pain I have some other remedies, but I believe it’d best to just treat them as you would normally do for now, and work actively with Rudo when he is more coherent. If you could do that, I can begin the next steps and -“
“Reg..to?”
All eyes snap to the bed. There, Rudo looks up with bleary eyes, pupils bouncing all around the room before settling hazily on Regto’s tall figure. In seconds, Regto snaps himself from Enjin’s grasp to settle by his son’s side.
“Rudo.” Regto whispers with care. “It’s me. Regto.”
“You’re… real?” Rudo’s voice is so painfully small and desperate, his scarred hand reaching up to touch Regto’s face. With tenderness, Regto gently moves his face into Rudo’s hand, but doesn’t touch his ruined hands more than that. With the wince Rudo gives at the contact that he initiated, Enjin understands why.
“Real, I’m real.” Regto’s voice chokes at the end. Rudo seems to search his gaze with an intensity Enjin is slightly scared of. He really shouldn’t be scared of this kid whose not even under the covers of his infirmary bed, but damn. “You feeling okay? Any pain?
No kid should be that intense on a hospital bed. It’s like the truth is just a puzzle to be examined and scrutinized in Rudo’s eyes, not something that can just be. Terrifying shit.
Rudo gives a little whine, his fingers twitching every so subtly as he lets them fall from Regto’s face to the mans hands. “Not really…”His voice seems surprised. Enjin can’t help but snort, then freeze as Rudo’s eyes flicker to Enjin. “Whose th…the weirdo?”
“OI!” Enjin exclaims, leaning forward. This brat! “Brat! Who makes comments like that right off the bat?”
Rudo’s gaze furrow. “I do. Asshole.” And he just turns to his dad, face placid but questioning all the same.
Regto huffs a laugh as Enjin gives an overly dramatic squawk in the background. “That’s Enjin. And besides you is Eishia, who helped healed you up. Her powers might be why you feel tired right now…”
“Mm not tired.” Rudo mumbles, clearly tired.
Enjin calls him out on it. “That’s a big fat lie, kiddo. Anyone would be exhausted after all the bullshit you went through.”
“You’re bullshit…” Rudo mumbles more, clearly having decided Enjin is going to be a metaphorical punching bag for his sleepy attitude. Kid’s gonna be a spitfire, Enjin can tell, 100%. With an attitude to match the rest of team Akuta. Blearily, Rudo’s eyes refocus on Regto. “Powers?”
“Something we can talk about when you’re more awake, baby.” Regto soothes, pushing Rudo’s hair back away from his face. “Get some more rest, okay? I’ll be here when you wake up.
“Pr’mise…?” Rudo asks, eyes drooping shut, but his fingers, damaged as they are, gripping even tighter to Regto’s.
With a deep tenderness, Regto responds. “I promise.”
At those words, Rudo’s body loses its tension like a puppet cut from its strings, sinking into the mattress like it’s the softest thing he’s laid on. Maybe it is. Regto’s spare comments about Spherite life have been… less than kind.
Regardless, Enjin pokes Regto’s back, smiling at the man when he can tear his eyes away from his son. “He’s a real spitfire, ain’t he?”
Regto smiles. “Absolutely. I would apologize for his behavior… but if I haven’t managed to fix it yet, it might just be something you have to get used it.”
Enjin steps back. “He’ll make a great addition to keep Akuta then, if he wants to be a Cleaner. He doesn’t have to. But we’re gonna welcome him all the same. He’s got a home here, Regto. Don’t worry about that.”
“We’ll take good care of him.” Eishia adds in a rare bout of unexpected courage. “I - We - promise.”
A warm smile spreads across Regto’s face, the worry dropping away from his eyes for the first time since he found his son again. “Thank you both. Really.”
“You’re one of us Regto, and that means your son is too. So don’t sweat it, man, really.” Enjin places a hand on Regto’s shoulder before extending to his full height and stretching. He takes a moment to glance over Regto, noting the dirty, bloodstained cleaner’s uniform, and making a snap decision. “Now how bout I go get you some grub and a change of clothes, and get you ready for the long haul?”
Both Eishia and Regto make noises of assent as Enjin begins to make his way out into the hall. He swings Umbreaker over his shoulder, letting her rest in the divot practically made for her as he begins to whistle a jaunty tune on his way to the mess, mind whirling. Rudo and Regto… two angels, fallen from heaven… Two strays that need more help than most, but Enjin wouldn’t have his name if he didn’t help. He isn’t afraid of a few bites, no matter how Semiu might warn him, and well.
Rudo is the kind of kid that doesn’t give up. That’ll keep on screamin’ and fightin’, even from a hospital bed, who will only relax when he’s got someone to cover his back. A fighter, a spitfire, a little wolf cub with teeth already comin’ in sharp.
Enjin can’t fucking wait to get to know him.