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“MinuteTech. Here’s to a new team.”
“It’s not that new, Clown.” Minute laughed nervously, but accepted the glass. “Thank you.”
Clown tipped his head, in acceptance, Minute hoped. He was weirdly on edge today.
Beside them, Leo propped his feet on the meeting table, raising his own champagne flute.
“Here’s to being the deadliest mass murderers this side of Hypixel!”
“Cheers to that.” Clown tipped his glass, and his smiling gaze wandered to Minute as he gestured with his head. “Sit, Minute. Drink and be merry.”
Minute took a small sip, and smiled in what he hoped came across as gratitude, to the best of his ability. This was good. This was a sign they really were accepting him, welcoming him, even.
He sat next to Leo, somehow surprised and unsurprised when Clown sat opposite them without a glass of his own. Of course, with his mask. But Minute was still getting used to both of them.
“So… what do we do now?” Minute really hoped he sounded normal. Or endearingly awkward, at least. “We don’t have that many achievements. Yet.”
“We drink, Min.” Leo toasted him again, already laughing. “Why? Any other plans? Any other teams?”
Minute felt heat creep into his cheeks, uncertain whether to laugh along or defend his suggested betrayal. He could feel Clown watching him, and felt suddenly worried, like this was some sort of test.
Setting his glass down, Minute glanced around, and swallowed hard.
“No. I- it’s just you guys. I wouldn’t-“
“Relax, Minute. It’s a joke. Drink.” Clown nodded good-naturedly, more lighthearted than Minute had ever seen him. “We trust you.”
That wasn’t true. Minute had more faith in them than that. If they trusted him already, neither of them deserved their reputations.
Still, he drank. A small, hesitant sip, wondering what they’d done to get hold of this. Drugs were technically forbidden. As forbidden as anything was, on Spoke’s server.
Leo cheered vaguely, as Clown pulled out a knife, and Minute immediately stiffened.
“Relax.”
Minute was sure Clown glanced up at him, and seemed to be smiling at his tension. His teammate twirled the knife, and spread his hand on the table.
As Clown started bringing the point of his knife down between each of his fingers, Minute couldn’t help but stare. It was captivating. The rhythmic sound, the second-hand thrill. He took another sip of champagne, and pulled a face. Maybe he should drink more. This didn’t taste so good.
Leo nudged him, gently, and Minute flinched bodily.
“Jeez, you’re jumpy. Anyway, watch him.” Leo pointed, downing another sip of his champagne. “He might start singing, if we’re lucky.”
Minute listened closely, almost embarrassed by how thoroughly interested he was. And Leo was right, he could hear Clown humming softly, almost drifting as his knife stabbed down between his fingers.
Also, he wasn’t jumpy. That was rude. Minute shot Leo a suspicious sort of look, and had another swallow of champagne. It was warm in his throat, at least. And made him feel a little calmer about this.
It wasn’t that he was scared. That would be ridiculous. It was just that this was a new team, and Minute definitely didn’t trust them, and maybe drinking was the first thing to get the knot inside him to uncurl, even slightly. Not nearly enough to get his guard down. It felt like Clown was trying something, and Minute wasn’t fool enough to fall for it.
“Stop watching, you freaks.” Clown didn’t look up, just threw his knife into the air, grabbed it by the blade, and went back to hammering the hilt between his fingers as the sharp edge dug into his palm. “Unless you want me to give you something to watch.”
Minute nearly took him up on it, then caught himself, and frowned at his champagne flute. Either he needed a higher drinking tolerance, or Clown had somehow increased the percentage of this stuff. He had more self-control than that.
“Alright. This is dumb. Clown, what’s your favourite thing about us?”
Leo leaned forward, taking another sip of his champagne in a cocky challenge. Minute did the same, on some kind of vaguely sluggish instinct, and furrowed his brow again. He didn’t want to look like a lightweight. But this wasn’t going down like alcohol normally did.
“That you’re both dumb enough to obey me.” Clown matched him without hesitation, crossing his arms on the table and twirling his knife between his fingers. “And you two make me look even better.”
Minute felt a sort of dread creep up his spine, and hoped this one wouldn’t be turned on him. He wasn’t sure he could muster the right sort of backhanded compliment to satisfy his own anxiety and Clown and Leo’s shared snarkiness.
“Well, my favourite thing about you, ClownPierce, is that I can imagine you pulling whatever face I want while you’re giving orders.” Leo smirked, leaning all the way across the table to tap his glass against Clown’s forehead. “Like, right now, you look really stupid behind that mask, I bet.”
“Keep betting.” Clown laughed shortly, leaning away from Leo. “Minute, your turn.”
“Uh-“ Minute’s eyes flicked up from where he’d been studying his glass, breath catching in his throat. “I really like you two.”
“Boring…” Leo elbowed him, having given up teasing Clown as a bad lot. “There’s no way there’s nothing annoying about either of us.”
“There isn’t.” Minute dropped his gaze again, grateful his skin hid the heat in his cheeks. “Not that I’ve noticed.”
He didn’t have much to compare them to. And even if he did, he wouldn’t say it. That had been Minute’s policy, this whole season. Keep himself likeable, and surface-deep. Useful enough to be wanted, pleasant enough to be liked. But he didn’t want to risk going any deeper than skin level.
In the awkward moment of silence that descended on them, Minute became uncomfortably aware of some kind of glance being shared between his teammates. He should have looked up, proved he was an active member of this team, but it just made him go for his glass again, letting himself focus on the warmth, rather than the uneasy prickling from his teammates.
“Genuinely, then.” Clown’s voice was careful, his fingers drumming on the table rhythmically. “If there’s really nothing bad about us, what do you like?”
Somehow, that was even worse. Minute nearly choked on his next sip of champagne, his thoughts scattering like fishes into ink-black water. Don’t go further than surface deep, he’d told himself. That had seemed so easy.
“I-“ He couldn’t think. Minute struggled, then shook his head, then tried again, but his thoughts were swimming. “God, Leo, you’re really nice, and you- you do things I wish I could do.”
Like tell Clown exactly how he felt. Like share his feelings at all, or at least pretend to, letting down his guard like it was nothing. Minute wished he had that luxury.
“Aw, Min, that’s really sweet.” Leo threw an arm around his shoulders, as Minute stared at his hands in mixed consternation and confusion, trying to hold his own tongue by biting it. “See, Clown? Some people can be nice.”
Clown was watching him closely. Minute could feel it, adding to the mess of his thoughts right now, and struggled between throwing Leo off and leaning into some sort of safety. This wasn’t safety. This was allies, who he should keep at arm’s length, but the contradiction of that and the yearning ache in his chest was making everything foggy.
“You can take that off him, Leo.”
“What?” Leo removed his arm, his joviality cracking into confusion. “Is- sorry, Min, didn’t-“
Minute took a shaky sip of his champagne, just for something to do with his wavering hands. Clown’s voice sharpened, turning to an order in a heartbeat.
“The glass, Leo. He’s had enough.”
Leo made a noise of puzzlement, and Clown hissed, leaning across the table to ease the flute from Minute’s hand firmly.
“Clown, is he ok? Min, is something wrong?”
“He’s drugged, Leo.” Clown set the glass carefully out of reach, and Minute stared, wondering how he’d managed to drink that much already. And even so, he felt heavier, dizzier, warmer all over than he’d have excepted to be on champagne alone. “Try not to let him fall asleep.”
“What the fuck?!” Leo flinched, or seemed to, in the corner of Minute’s fuzzy vision. “How- Clown, did you- ok, what- what did you-?”
“He’ll be fine. He’s not going to die.” Clown’s voice was clipped, as he dragged a chair around the table, sitting right next to Minute. “I know what I’m doing.”
Minute didn’t know what was going on anymore. His chest was on fire, panic on all cylinders as he could swear he heard his shaky, superficial trust collapsing around his ears. But his body wasn’t responding, his head fuzzy and spinning every time he tried to move. Talking was out of the question. Higher functioning was going the same way.
Leo pushed in front of him, nearly shoving Minute to the floor as he got between the two of them.
“Ok, Clown, I- I trust you, way too much, so you get one chance to explain this. Why the hell is our teammate drugged out of his mind right now?”
Clown paused. Minute watched, in some way separate from any sort of visual processing, as he tilted his head, and Leo stayed firmly in between.
“Because I need him to relax, Leo. You’ve seen him. This team is going nowhere until he knows he can trust us.”
“And this is helping?” Leo looked over his shoulder, and Minute got a glimpse of his expression, half fear, half restrained anger. “Clown, ok, I- I know you do weird stuff. But- oh, shit, Min-“
Minute watched Leo disappear from his darkening vision as everything began to slip, and the next thing he felt was his teammate’s hands on him, catching him right before he fell from his chair to his floor, and gently let him lie on the floor, fingertips shaking.
“Clown, you- you’d really better have a plan.”
“Of course I have a plan. Move.”
“No. Tell me, right now, or I’m calling Ash.”
“I’m going to ask him questions. Nothing you wouldn’t tell me. I’m not going to hurt him, Leowook, so get out of my way.”
A moment of nothing. Minute felt like he was passing out. He was so hot, and felt like sinking into the floor. His fingers brushed Leo’s heel, and he realised he was reaching vaguely for his teammates, just in the hopes of it soothing the ache in his chest.
It stretched, and Minute tried to say something. He wasn’t sure what. Clown sounded the more reasonable. But Leo was defending him, even if it was loud, and confusing, and he wanted to know he was safe.
“…Ok.”
A few footsteps. Not far. Minute rolled over, or tried to, but Clown’s gloved hands were moving him easily, gently.
“Relax, Minute. Stay awake, or I’ll have to find another way to do this. Don’t make me have lied to Leo about not hurting you.”
Minute groaned weakly, feeling limp as Clown lifted him back onto his chair like a child, and somehow Leo was in his other side, steadying him.
It was weird. Minute knew, in what remained of his dim higher functioning, that he was helpless. And panicking. But they were being so gentle, and he’d been so ready to pretend to trust them that his body was still running on that, taking good will at face value.
“Hey, MinuteTech. Can you hear me?”
“Clown, I don’t feel-“
“It’s fine. Minute?”
Minute noted that Clown wasn’t threatening Leo, or telling him to leave. Almost like he really was doing this with good intentions. Which didn’t quite sit right.
He nodded, and nearly fell over again, but Clown caught him. Minute realised his eyes were still working, just about, as he seemed to plateau in his deterioration. He blinked, trying to focus on Clown, trying to find some anger in his sluggish thoughts.
“Awesome. See, Leo, this is going to be fine.”
Leo didn’t say a word, just pulled a chair protectively close to Minute, one hand still resting on his arm. Minute’s eyes fluttered again, as he watched Clown’s mask begin to blur into his collar.
“Minute, do you trust us?”
Not right now. Or maybe more than ever right now. This could be so much worse. What had Clown asked him?
Trust. No. Of course not, that would be stupid. Minute was sure he could say as much, too, if he pulled himself together.
“N- no.” Shaking his head, Minute felt the world spin around him, and groaned softly. “I- I’m new. That- that’d be- dumb, or- or somethin’.”
He hated how his voice sounded. Maybe they hadn’t even heard him. Minute was sure he could hear himself slurring. But Clown hummed, and reached out, taking one of his hands gently.
“Favourite colour?”
“I- I don’t- I don’t know.” Minute frowned, feeling everything slipping again, and Clown rubbed the back of his hand soothingly. “Should- should I?”
Talking was getting easier, weirdly. That probably wasn’t a good sign, given he was definitely losing it. Minute couldn’t hold down a single thought. It was all fog, or a heavy soup, or like tar, or something else he couldn’t think of right now.
“You don’t have to.” Clown didn’t let go of his hand, his voice soft and even and something stable for Minute to cling to. “That’s a good answer. You’re doing great, Minute.”
“Th- thanks…”
“What are you scared of?”
Minute reeled inwardly, and Leo’s hand on his arm twitched. He shouldn’t answer that. He hadn’t wanted to tell them anything, except now he wanted to tell them everything, because it felt so good to hear Clown talking to him like an equal.
“Uh- d- dying?”
“I’m sure you are, Minute, but I’m looking for something more than that.”
Clown squeezed his hand a little, his voice gently chastising. Minute felt his cheeks heat up, even more than he was burning already, and he tried to sort through his mind that felt like it was slowly filling with sticky ink, staining everything he tried to form into a sentence.
“I- uh- ‘m scared of- of being alone, I guess.”
His tongue wasn’t working right. He’d forgotten to keep his eyes open, and now Minute was fairly sure he couldn’t open them at all. Everything was passing by him like a train, leaving him confused and searching for sense.
“Oh?”
“I- I really like you guys… just… don’t want y- you to leave me.”
Leo made a small noise of pity, and Minute slapped himself mentally. It didn’t help any, but he felt like he was drowning anyway, trying to stop himself talking to no avail.
“Anything else?”
“Bein’- ugh- messing- messing up, I- I think?” Minute swallowed, and shook his head, and tried again. “Need to- to have a plan. Or… uh… I- I die. That- that’s… bad.”
“Sweet. That’s really good, Minute, thank you.” Clown rubbed small circles on the back of his hand again, and Minute wanted more than that, so badly, as he felt more than his vision start to fail him. “What do you think would get you killed? Apart from not having a plan.”
“Uh- not- not having-“ Minute struggled for a few more seconds, trying to pin down his thought. “Gear. Or- or betrayal. W- want to be prepared…”
“Of course. Very sensible.”
Each breadcrumb of praise made something spark in Minute’s head, illuminating the suffocating darkness for a brief, addictive moment.
“And if we did leave you? What would you do then?”
Minute tensed, feeling his breath catch, and he couldn’t think at all anymore. They didn’t want him. They were testing him, and he’d failed, and he didn’t want be alone, he shouldn’t have even considered trusting them-
“Hey. Minute. It’s a hypothetical.”
That was a big word. Minute struggled with it, then shook his head weakly again, making a noise of terrified confusion.
“We’re not going to leave you.” Clown’s grip on his hand tightened, and that got the message across, more than anything. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to answer that one.”
“Clown, you need to stop. Get him a potion, or something, please.”
Minute had forgotten Leo was here. He remembered now, but the words were beginning to slide off him like oil.
“Another minute, Leo, he’s fine. I’ve done this before.”
“What- actually, ok, no. That’s for later. Just- hurry up, ok?”
“Sure. If you’ll let me.” Clown waited, and Minute hoped silently that Leo would stop talking. He wanted to hear Clown. “Minute. What can we do that would make you happy?”
Minute spent a few seconds with that one, sounding the words through, then forgetting the beginning as soon as he got to the end. It was all slipping out of his grip, spinning away as he struggled to stay afloat.
“This is a genuine question, Minute. I can train with you? Any hobbies you had, before Lifesteal?”
“Maybe he just wants to feel safe, Clown, did you think of that?”
That one. Minute nodded, although Clown’s first suggestion had sounded pretty good too.
“Safe?” Clown’s thumb swiped across his knuckles, and Minute nodded again, weakly. “We can do that. How do you feel about touch?”
Minute shrugged, but squeezed Clown’s hand as much as he was able.
“You- you two.” He could barely hear himself speaking any more, but was sure he was. “You’re good. N- no one else.”
“Awesome. Scared, right now?”
Minute hesitated. Then shook his head, partially out of sheer, muddled exhaustion. No. Not when he had Leo next to him, and Clown in front of him, and god, he trusted them too much, because this was the safest he’d felt in a long time.
“Good.” There was something like satisfaction in Clown’s voice, like a cat who’d gotten a kill. “You’re tired, though. Ready to go to sleep? You won’t remember this in the morning.”
Minute half-nodded, the mere mention of sleep lifting some nameless burden from his shoulders. He didn’t have to feel like this forever. They could take care of him.
“Anything you want to ask us?”
“Stop it. Just let him sleep.”
“He deserves a chance, Leo.”
“You’re so lucky I trust you, Clown, or you’d be dead twice over right now.”
Minute was slipping. He was hanging on by his fingertips, and could feel himself about to fall. But it was a calm sort of acceptance, a small smile at his lips as he felt his body go entirely limp.
“Protective, much?”
“You’re one to talk. Shit- Clown, catch him.”
Clown did. Minute had barely even worried, and definitely wasn’t anymore, as his teammate pulled him carefully onto his lap, one arm hooked around Minute’s waist as he stroked his hair.
“Relax, Leo. I just wanted to know what he needed.”
“You’re- so weird. So weird.”
“As I’ve been told.”
Clown was still petting him like a cat, as Minute began to spiral downwards. It was nice, his teammate’s gloved fingertips playing with his hair and scratching gently behind his ears. It was making him tingly, all over, alongside the heaviness.
“He’s going to be alright, right? Clown?”
“He’ll be fine. And if he isn’t, we get to take care of him.”
“…Ok. I can work with that.”
Whatever Clown’s reply might have been was lost, as Minute let go entirely, and felt the world go solid black.