Chapter Text
He’s alive… Right?
4C slumped onto the ground, too exhausted mentally to keep himself standing.
What was he even doing?
He should be with Nom, playfully attempting to steal his items before giving them back immediately if he's ever successful, and trying to dodge him when Nom shield bashes him.
He should be with Mae, building the kingdom up and giggling over some absurd topic at the late hours of the night, or bonding over their want for validation.
He should be with Shan, while she convinces him to keep gambling despite the queen having declared it not allowed for him.
He should be with Katie, farkling to an absurdly high number every week and changing colors when one of them- or both- loses.
He should be with Scott, who had too much of a calming aura for how terrifying he could be. Or even Owain, despite the way he never seemed to accept his contributions to the kingdom. Or Eloise, who despite banning him from farkling too much gold, didn't stop him from going further into debt. Graecie, who was far too kind of a soul for what pain he had caused her, even unintentionally.
The red kingdom members weren't all bad either. He could be hanging out with Kitty, who seemed to not care very much about the feud between the two kingdoms. Or Ser Bek, who while he hasn't seen very much of, is extremely loyal to their kingdom. He's a little scared to approach Frogue and Sausage, but even being with them would be better than how he is right now, alone in the terrifying silence. Cam, who made a really awesome song while drunk that one time! Cherri, and her loyal knight Apo, who both allowed him to claim a little too many rooms in their house as his... Well, there's never too many rooms, but still.
4c should be with them. Any of them.
But yet, he's not.
He's back in the place that had been the cause of his nightmares for weeks. Where he had spent so long, but it had felt like merely a day. They were looking for him then. For two weeks.
And now he's back in hell, and this time no one is going to look for 4c.
They probably think he's dead…
He probably is. At least, he should be. Why else would he be here?
Except this time, he notices, something feels different.
4c’s in hell, and yet he feels normal. He isn't melting on the spot and forcing himself to quite literally keep it all together. No. In fact, he feels quite normal
Well.
Maybe normal is an exaggeration.
It feels like his world has fallen apart. Like if he tried to move it would break the fragile hold he has on his emotions, and it would end up with him finding his way back to blue. He can't have that.
But it hurts.
It hurts so bad.
But he can't go back, because they think he is dead. He sacrificed himself so they wouldn't die.
4c isn't dead though. He can feel it in the way his heart still pounds against his chest, how his lungs rapidly force the hot- or, supposed to be hot air in and out.
He couldn't figure out why he wasn't hot. He was in hell, was he not? There were thick clouds of red ash in the air that somehow weren't clogging up his lungs.
When he looked around, his gaze caught something in the distance, below the platform that 4c had started the parkour on, one he remembered the rough feeling of far too well.
4c ignored his aching heart, curiosity getting the better of him when he pushed himself onto his feet.
4cvit pushed himself up to his feet once again, not bothering to eat one of his fish. If he wants to save them for when he really needs it, he's got to ration. His legs ache from the rough, hard bedrock beneath him and arms hurt from pulling himself up blocks, but he drags himself to the platform once agai-
Stop. FOCUS, 4c! His mind shut down the memory from continuing, and he shook his head, walking forward to whatever it was that had caught his attention.
It was a lectern. A book lay on it, flipped to a page with symbols he didn't recognise. 4c lifted a hand to the page, examining confusing images of which he couldn't make sense of. At the top, however, there was a sentence. It seemed to be a spell. One of… one of time travel.
He hesitated.
Say it! You could change what happened!
Said the voice in his mind.
Well what if I mess it up? It'll be worse than it is now! Everyone could die.
He argued back.
So what? You can try again. You know the spell now.
4c paused. Reading over the words again and again to imprint it into his memory. Well… that was true. He could just try again… couldn't he..?
Granted, 4c doesn't know much of anything about magic, but it doesn't say anything about it being a one-time spell. At least, not that he can read. And… He doesn't want to stay here any longer. Memories fill his head of this purgatory, falling and climbing and getting to the end before falling over and over again.
He just wants to see his siblings (are they his siblings?) again. He wants to see Mae, Graecie, Scott… He wants to see them all again. 4c can't handle the silence of being alone.
So he opens his mouth and recites the words on the page.
“I undo now, to retry it all. Return me to where I come. My soul, with guidance from my will, shall take what lies beyond my sight along, and may it walk with me then from right to wrong.”
A blinding pain erupted in his skull, 4c clutching at his head in an attempt to stop it.
–_--_--_–
4c awoke in the sewers, heart beating erratically and unable to stop his relieved sobs as he heard the voices of Mae and Owen speaking of something muffled above him.