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Tender, porcelain white hair. Soft, cloud-like feathers that form powerful yet safe wings. Careful hands that work oh-so-gently on whatever wound he had. That calm smile…
Eggchan. His best friend for life, the one he would die and kill for.
He was so, so different to the filth of battle. To the smell of blood, to the viscosity in his hands, to the view being tainted an ugly red. The serenity he inspired was a stark contrast to the adrenaline that fueled his battered body to continue, even if all of his muscles burned.
A groan grew out of his throat, a whimper escaping him as he felt ginger hands cupping his face. “It's okay, friend. You're safe, I’m here.” No matter the wounds he had, no matter how he had crawled back here, no matter how much pain he had, all of it seemed like such a little issue at that voice, so light yet grounding. Everything hurt, and yet he closed his eyes as he felt arms scooping him close with a tenderness no one else would understand, the other still whispering soothing things into his ear.
Wemmbu tried to cling to him, a sob making its way out before he could even try and control it. The demon never cried in front of anyone, the only exception being Eggchan. And that was also rare, only doing it when he was way too exhausted or if he was injured and the pain was becoming a little too much. Both of them being today's occasion.
God, everything was so blurry. He was sure he was going to pass out soon. And yet, just knowing he was being carried by the angel he knew as best friend meant he was okay.
Soon, Wemmbu felt nothing but the mattress beneath him and the pressure of someone applying bandages and potions to his wounds. He was still unsure of how he had even survived that. Not even the attack itself, but the whole way back to the tree house. He had come walking at first, albeit limping, and then he had been unable to keep up and had fallen to his knees. For the rest of the path, he had been fucking crawling. Crawling.
He was tired. Sick, and tired. Tired of being strong. Sick of having to be the strongest. Before, it was the sudden fight, a random player that appeared out of nowhere and wanted to beat him. But now, he was battling every day. It was like everyone in the server wanted to kill him out of nowhere. He could barely keep up with it. How could he be the strongest if he didn't have a single day of rest?
He had begun thinking of just giving up mid-battle. That sweet relief that his whole body, his soul seemed to crave, could only be attached to death. The idea of this ‘lost cause’ being gone from the world didn't seem so bad, now. But death scared him, and thinking of a life without Eggchan or Eggchan’s life without his protection scared him. So he didn't expand the idea to reality.
| It hurts to be something,
| It's worse to be nothing with you.
Another whimper and the unshed tears in his eyes slid off. A hand reached out to wipe them off affectionately while the bandages tightened, oh-so-painfully yet pressured, making him feel alive once more. In the not so horrible way now.
“Egg—” He called out in a choked sob, begging the pain to ease away. It seemed endless. Ever-looping. Eternal. Every day, repeating.
“Shh, just close your eyes. You’ll be alright, Bu. Everything will be alright.” His friend’s voice cut through the trance he was in, and Wemmbu felt the blurriness at the corner of his eyes and the ring of his ears become nothing but a mindless haze as the appreciative nickname he had given him registered on his mind and a few soft feathers came to caress his side, falling next to him like a weighted blanket that he immediately dug his face on, ignoring how they got a bit onto his nose.
He trusted Eggchan.
He closed his eyes, the haze growing, the world fading black.
——————
Ffuuuu—
Everything ached, dude. And like, a whole lot. Not exactly pain, just that everything ached and that he couldn't move. Wait, he couldn't move? The purple demon tried to understand why he was so stiff, trying to stretch his limbs but only getting to feel a wave of fresh pain that made him groan and let out a slight whine.
He was even more confused as he felt something lift him. “Mffrr..?” He stirred even more, wondering what was even happening. Everything fit like a puzzle as he saw the fire in front of him, and the wing that was coaxing him to someone's side. He instantly melted, and only then raised a hand stiffly to see how he was bandaged almost from head to toes. “Mrrhi.” He greeted almost nonsensically, but Eggchan nodded with almost hilarious seriousness.
“Hi.” The other greeted back, before his wing squeezed Wemmbu even more against his side. Keeping him warm, keeping him safe. The bandaged one leaned against him comfortably, not minding being close at all. His eyes fluttered slowly as they both stared at the dancing fire in front of them that bathed them in a warm light and heat that felt like home. “I bandaged you.”
Wemmbu smiled. He could barely move from the fabric covering his body, but it still felt better than the sensation of being tense beneath his armour. “Thanks.” He replied, tone softer than usual. He was just about to throw a comment like ‘oh thank you grand eggchan for saving me’ but he quickly realized that was not a good idea. The all-seeing eye surely wasn't happy about the state he had come back in.
Wemmbu perked up, looking up at him from the corner of his eye, the other one not reciprocating the gesture and keeping his gaze fixed on the flames, deep in thought. There was this tension that lingered between the two that he knew wasn't either of them’s fault. It didn't feel uneasy, it never felt like that around his best friend, but there was definitely a different note in the air. He had been joking around as much as he could, but he knew Eggchan could see beneath it and notice how deep into the fatigue he was. He looked worried. His hair being just slightly longer than his shoulders, even though he knew he despised it being like that, the friction against the back of his neck making him go crazy. His wings; not as soft as usual, albeit still unbelievably so.
Wemmbu instantly knew something was wrong.
“Hey.” He called out, and only then did the other look back. “Want me to preen your wings?” He asked, tone genuine. The other was silent for a few seconds before he nodded, wings fluttering subconsciously.
“..Sure.” The angel replied, and the bandaged one knew that he had hit the right spot in his heart. They knew each other like the palm of their hand, so it wasn't really difficult nowadays. He liked that.
Now, both friends laid comfortably on the couch. They had taken the pillows of the back out to have more space, and they had decided to position themselves in such a way so they wouldn't have to be kneeled because that would be painful as heck. Eggchan was sitting forward, still staring at the fire with a blank gaze, and Wemmbu had put his legs on top of the other's lap, stretching them out since folding them wasn't even possible with the bandages. Yes, they were comfortable like this. The seraphim had puffed up one of us wings for the demon to work with. And so he was: plucking bad feathers out and letting them rest on his lap, feeling the soft, new ones pluck and tender beneath his touch.
“You always preen them.” Wemmbu spoke after repeating the same motion a few times, passing his fingers softly through the now-not-so-cared-for feathers. Eggchan’s shoulders finally loosed up at the sensation, which had been tense up until now. “What's wrong, bro?” He said, the nickname bringing up a familiarity that, instead of feeling unserious like it would for others, it brought comfort for both.
The angel paused, hands together, fingers locked as his thumbs circled around each other. The other continued preening his wings, knowing that sometimes forming well-thought sentences was hard. Finally, he spoke: “I… I’m worried. About you. Everyone just seems so fixated on seeing you as a ‘goal’ to beat, as some kind of obstacle to push through, that they just— they forget you're a person, y’know? And… with that, it worries me that maybe you are losing that idea too.” The all-seeing eye rambled with growing emotion, and yet the demon could just feel every word fall harder onto him, as if it was some kind of weight being pulled onto his shoulders.
God, Egg.
“You're coming back more and more injured each day. I'm surprised the base isn't getting griefed! The grass back here is getting tainted red from the trail of blood you leave behind, Wemm.” God. Stop talking, Egg. “And Gambit is basically more red than purple or grey already. My point is— there's red everywhere, dude. And you know that red is yours. I can do nothing every day but try to heal you back to a good state. But these people make it impossible. You're not a war machine. You need to rest, yes?”
Egg stopped entirely as he felt hands gripping almost desperately at his wings, trying to be careful so as not to hurt him, and a liquid that slid off the puffiness of the white, pure feathers. He looked back, just to be shaken to the core as trembling arms reached up to lock around his neck to bring him close, heads knocking together with a slight ‘bonk’. Sobs accompanied the rustling of the fire in front of them, and the angel took a few seconds to process what was even happening. Then, he shifted in place to wrap his arms around his friend, the embrace tightening. Wings wrapped around Wemmbu, and the warrior crumbled like a block of wet sand, slipping between his friend's fingers.
He sobbed. And wept. He was so unbelievably tired. How could he continue forward with no path? Lost cause. He hated this. He hated waking up every day, only to grab Gambit and go outside to fight a million people, every day. He was tired of his muscles hurting. He was tired of—
God. He hadn't realized until now how much he missed fishing with Egg.
The fishing rod, so peacefully floating at water level, sometimes dipping deeper as a fish dared to pop its mouth in for just a second. Finally, as one of them surrendered to temptation and grabbed the bait with a hungry bite, and the hook pierced the skin, the fish then tried to free itself in something like panic, spinning around like in a frenzy. Those were the moments where Wemmbu struggled pulling it back, no matter how much strength he used, the fish somehow beating him. Eggchan always grabbed his arm, and with a pull that required no strength but skill, the fish came out, almost neatly, falling at their feet. He remembered being annoyed, wondering how the other had even done it, and how he looked as the all-seeing eye grabbed his own fishing rod, propping it up, smiling almost smugly for a second before it turned to content as he swished the fishing line forward once more.
And now— look at him. Look at them. He looked like a wet dog, with the other one hugging him like the best blanket in the world.
Wemmbu sniffed again, digging his face onto the other’s collar as he cried, tears and oceans of grief, of emotions he had been keeping inside some sort of casing. Or more like, shell. Or dam. Or shield. Or the strongest walls, sturdier than any kingdom’s. But every kingdom falls, and so do its walls. And so did Wemmbu.
Eggchan could do nothing but hold and squeeze and embrace and hug the other as tightly and caringly as possible, giving it his all, even feeling a few little drops of his own appear in his eyes as he held the other one dearly. And yet, he also tried to remain careful, not wanting to make his friend also feel physical pain from the wounds aside from mental pain. “Wemm? Wemm— hey, Bu. Want me to braid your hair?” The angel tried to keep his voice steady, hands rubbing the other’s back in a slow, ginger motion that made the purple demon leave out even more sons and hiccups. God, he was crying stronger at the offer— should he have said that? He—
Wemmbu nodded, choking on tears. Oh. Eggchan couldn't help a sad smile, and dug his face in his hair for a second in an affectionate gesture. The usually composed and closed off player seemed hesitant on letting go of the embrace in the first place. Egg felt bad immediately, and let him sit on his lap, his wings fluttering to bring him close, to which Wemmbu also hugged them, helping him keep the warmth he was previously so sweetly enveloped in.
Calming down his subtly trembling fingers, the winged one reached out with slow and ginger motion to settle his hands on the purplish, not as neat hair he so greatly knew from braiding and tidying and brushing and tying and massaging a hundred times. Before, it was a silky violet, one that reminded him and, he supposed, other players of lavenders. Or hyacinths, he could never really tell. But he loved both of them, and he loved Wemmbu, so it didn't matter. Always so neat, so tidy and fixed yet blown by the wind, and yet now it was filled with tiny clumps of dried blood and debris, a layer of dirt covering it that made the seraphim uncomfortable every time he saw it. He coaxed a hand a bit deep onto the hair just to massage a bit of the other’s scalp, to which the demon melted a tad. He could feel his hands trying not to squeeze too hard as he gripped onto the main feathers of his wings. God, fuck the people of this server, dude.
“Wemm… what’s wrong? C’mon, talk to me. Please.” He inquired softly, voice coming out as a light, almost airy yet caring tone, just a few levels above a whisper, as his hands began the oh-so-known pattern of splitting sections and locking them. He already knew which one of the many hairdos he had done for him was going to be the one for today; his favourite. “I know it's hard. Just take your time, yes? If you ever get too anxious, you can keep preening my wings like this.” He said, moving his hands so as to grab all of the sections he had separated with just one, to bring the other one up to a feather of his own wings that was kind of bad-looking to pluck it out. Wemmbu observed, still letting out broken sobs, as he proceeded to rustle the feathers beneath his thumbs, trying to find familiarity in the sensation.
And since Eggchan told him to take his time, he did. He didn't want to speak like this, less even think, so he sought the comfort the other so easily brought, letting his eyelids fall heavy with fatigue as his arms kept the warm wings all around him like he was in some sort of safe cocoon, the occasional massaging also working perfectly. And yet, he knew he needed to say something. He didn't know what, or how he was going to articulate it, but he had to. Words felt heavy, purposes seemed meaningless, but he was willing to try. For Egg.
“I… I just. You're right. A-And it hurts, because— I can't stop. People know my thing is fighting, y’know? They— fuck-” He began, and yet he began crumbling again with every word that came out of his mouth. Why was it so hard? He took a deep breath, sniffing, and his best friend continued braiding his hair peacefully, which, with enough time, grounded him back to the moment. “I… They're going to fight me. And I'm going to win. And they're going to fight me. And I'm gonna win. And— it hurts. Because I want it to stop, but it can't. Not with this. This.. this— the whole ‘I want to kill Wemmbu’ situation.” He explained, and yet he felt like he couldn't even understand himself. He was such a mess it was pitiful.
| I’ve done the math,
| there's no solution.
| We'll never last...
The one who was braiding his hair heard the low groan that escaped him after a sob. “Hey, hey, it's okay. You can always start over again.” Eggchan kept his voice firmer than the other’s sobs, his fingers never stopping the motion of splitting, locking, splitting, locking. Just by habit, it usually took him five minutes or less to do these braids, but this time he was doing it slowly, making sure it was felt.
Wemmbu wanted to just curl up and cry. Cry, and cry, and cry the tears he had never shed yet. Tears for everything. All the tears that were kept inside were now keeping him devoid of life and hope. He didn't want to live this life. Not like this. He wanted to let it all go and live peacefully with Eggy.
“I—” He sniffed. “I-I.. I’m scared. They’re hurting me. They’ve tried to hurt you. If someday I'm not here, what will happen to you? I don't want to die. B-but— I don't wanna live like this.” At the last part, his tone wavered, and he completely broke, heart wrenching sobs making their way through for the third or fourth time today. He really was reaching his breaking point. He was shaking with each of them, hands focused on trying to feel the known feathers beneath them, perhaps gripping a bit too hard as he struggled to breathe with each sound of grief.
And Eggchan steadied his fingers to silently finish the braids, locking the final bits, finally tying it up. He tensed up involuntarily, not only from the slight humidity on his eyes, but because of how he was fighting internally not to immediately pull his wings away at the grip. It hurt, but instead of pushing the other away, he reached out to move him on his lap, scooping him close, hugging him tightly. Only then did Wemmbu let go, his hands changing position to instead have the same vice grip on his suit, clawing at it, craving closeness. He wanted nothing more but to stay like this. For Egg and him to be far, far away from here, fishing like they did back in the old times. His whole body hurt. He couldn't help but sniff his tears on the angel’s suit, heart pounding faster than ever, everything feeling so close and yet so far away that he felt like he was drowning.
“Wemmbu. Just know I’ll always be here, okay? Nothing will happen to me. I’ll be fine, and so will you. We’ll both be alright.” He whispered, arms wrapped tightly around the other, who had already curled up in his hold, just making sure to grab him back, as if he could disappear any moment now. “It’ll be fine. Actually, we’re both gonna take a rest. What do you think about that?” He added, and the purple demon perked up just slightly, the grounding words bringing him back just enough so as to show confusion.
“Huh?” He hummed, making the seraphim’s lips curl up in affection.
“Yeah, a rest. Just us staying here. Your injuries have to heal, not only the ones from today but previous ones, and I haven't had the time to treat them properly.” Eggchan explained, and yet he didn't. How were they going to stay safe? Basically like half of the server knew where the treehouse was. Again, they were both surprised it hadn't been griefed yet. So, how did he even expect to ‘take a rest’ without being jumped?
“B-but— how are we gonna stay here? We— we can't stay here. We can't stay anywhere, God damnit.” He protested, a sob sprouting out of his throat once more as he said the last sentence. They really had nowhere to go. The treehouse was an obvious spot, going to the End with Minute would just bring them even more problems, and Wemmbu had been kicked out of basically every place in the server by now. Everywhere he went, destruction followed.
And yet, Eggchan smiled softly. He cupped the other’s face, something he didn't really do often, so of course Wemmbu melted into it. “Just trust me, mh? We'll be free from any danger here. For enough time to have a well-deserved rest. I promise.” He spoke, wings fluttering, eyes smiling oh-so-warmly, as if light was beaming out of them. The purple demon hadn't been able to settle down enough until he heard “I promise.” The all-seeing eye didn't vow often, and so he immediately believed him. At least enough to try and calm down, curling up in his arms again.
“‘kay. Trust you.” He answered, and Egg went back to hugging him tightly. Wemmbu still clung, albeit now loosely with tiredness, to his suit, hands clutching almost desperately at the black fabric. He had dug his face back into the other’s collar, now letting himself try and relax, letting out soft sobs he hadn't exactly known he had been holding from such a long time ago. It all hurt, and yet his best friend embraced him, welcomed the pain and soothed it all. He truly was a light in the dark.
The fire crinkling and sparkling with heat in front of them, warmth bathing them, warmth they had been sharing in every complicated situation they went through, warmth that just became stronger with each passing moment the hug went on. The calid love and comfort they emanated while being with each other was just like an anchor at the wildest storm. Grounding. Safe. Home. It truly was something that Wemmbu couldn't live without, and neither did Eggchan. It seems like opposites do attract. A lost cause, attached to a growing hope. An angel, attached to a demon. The tables were flipped. Laws of nature bending, logic breaking. It truly was amazing.
Wemmbu didn't want to fall asleep. He felt like if he did, he would wake up from the beautiful dream he was in. Eggchan really did feel dreamy, oh ethereal. An angel with the prettiest, warmest wings. He could feel them around him, guarding him as if he was a treasure.
As if he bore telepathic powers, the seraphim brought him a little closer and leaned his head atop his, as if telling him “I'm here”. The demon couldn't help but relax underneath, all of the stress he had been carrying disappearing momentarily as if an unbearable weight had been pulled off his shoulders. They were curled up into a little ball-shaped hold, and they both loved it. The previous pain had faded away so gradually with the warmth of the fire and the embrace that he hadn't even noticed it. Now, they were warm, safe, and home.
No explosions, no totems, no fireworks, no flying, no falling, no death, no red.
Just Eggchan.
| It hurts to be something,
| It's worse to be nothing with you.