Chapter Text
Wemmbu distinctly wondered if anyone would find his note. Maybe Egg, if he somehow managed to escape Arachnid's kingdom. He hopes Egg knows better than to return to the place he was trapped at just for Wemmbu. Would Arachnid kill him too, if Wemmbu died?
He wants Flame to find it and tell Mane about him. That way, if Mane cared even a little, he'd—
Wemmbu lifted the pencil from the paper. His hand was shaking. He'd what? Go to his funeral, if he had one, to shed a tear? Mane probably had other things to do and Wemmbu was just living up to his words. Lost cause.
He thinks he's starting to understand where Mane came from. Wemmbu was blind, in a way that was worse than its meaning. He kept pushing his luck too hard. He was aware that it wouldn't hold and he still did. Wemmbu always hurts people around him.
Flame. Flame would find it because Mane wouldn't search for it or for him. He trusted that Flame had the decency to at least inform his friends—was Egg his only friend left?—of his death. That, or he'd burn it.
The pen continued scribbling, letters forming with shaky lines and unsteady hands. He missed Egg's books, which were a source of inspiration for him. Poetry was beautiful in his eyes.
There are three things you need to know before you read this. A lot can happen during a lifetime, how am I supposed to tell a well-structured story when everything around me, everything I touch turns to chaos, if it isn't already?
Firstly, I'm sorry. Capital City didn't deserve to be blown up. It had to be done, though and I was aiming for casu creating as many casualties as possible. It's not beautiful (lately I've been thinking that nothing is, but that's not relevant) and it's the truth.
It's really unfortunate. Betraying so many because Arachnid wanted him to. It was like the law all over again, he was a dog listening to commands. He hated order more than anything. Especially if it cost him the health of others.
It made a heavy feeling settle over his heart. It was like a spiky lead chain, stabbing strikes through its delicate tissue. The thought left bitterness twisting in his gut. Guilt was crushing him and he didn't know how to escape it.
He took a sip of one of the few night vision potions he had left. Explosions and bright flashes still lingered in his head. His ears were ringing, head feeling too light for what's considered normal. But Wemmbu's not normal so he continued writing.
Secondly, Egg's my best friend. Egg, from the bottom of my heart, do not do anything stupid. Please. Just get Jaden to get CodMaster out and go run away somewhere peaceful. You're my best friend, I hope you know that. You helped me so much and I'm sorry I couldn't return it.
Believe me, I tried. I did, even when it didn't show and you only ended up captured by Arac hurt in so many ways because of me. You like fishing and you got trapped in the End because of me. I didn't even get to visit you frequently.
Forgive me. I promised too much and now I can't keep all of my promises. You deserve better. I'm not reliable, you and I know it best. You probably know me better than myself. I'm sorry I couldn't ask you for help. Even now, I wonder, will you hate me for this?
Please don't hate me.
He wasn't sure he could leave with the thought of Egg hating him. If he found out and started looking at him differently, he'd do more than cry himself to sleep every night; he'd make sure it was painful enough to make up for ruining their friendship.
Tears blurred his vision, forcing him to stop for a moment. Here he was, wasting time because he was too weak to bite back his whining and finish writing. He was supposed to be done with it by yesterday. Wemmbu was just a procrastinator.
Maybe if he would've trained like Lettuce had once wanted he would've been someone great. Or at least a better person than who he is right now, even if fighting for the Law was awful.
He took a deep breath, willing his trembling to ease. He rubbed his eyes, smudging the tears on his cheeks and ignoring the way they instantly returned. It was fine, he'd wash his face before going out again. No one would suspect anything. No one would care enough to search for him.
Lastly. Uh, Flame. (Yes, I wrote uh on a piece of paper. What're you gonna do? Beat me for it? Find new ways, I'm getting bored of the constant pain wallop.) I bet Egg's growing tired of healing all the wounds too. Hah.
It's crazy that I'm actually addressing you. Is it? I don't know. But, as your riv l rival, I think I owe you an explanation. I don't really think we're rivals. Sorry, I know that's not what you're searching for.
I know I disappoint you. I fight dirty and you have your honor. You are not honorable, I have to admit. But you would've killed me a long time ago if you wanted to. It would've been a nice way to go, compared to this.
It really would've. Wemmbu just had to survive that fight after their alliance, he had to ruin the Law for Lettuce and all his citizens. He felt awful. A wave of lightheadness hit him. His breathing caught and something wet fell down his cheek.
You probably have better things to do, so I'll get to the point. Thank you, if you were the one to find this. Please show it to Egg. I like to think we're not rivals, you know. Maybe we're toying the line between rivals and friends is what I tell myself to get my brain to shut up. I lo
His communicator started ringing loudly in his pocket. The last sentence was stained with tears, unfinished. Wemmbu set the pen down, clearing his throat before answering the call. He can't afford someone walking in on him doing this.
"Wemmbu. Get to the castle immediately." Arachnid's voice rang loudly in his ears, barely tearing through the static.
Wemmbu nodded. "Okay. I'm coming now." He did his best to keep his voice from shaking. Not like Arachnid would care, but his reputation had to at least be decent.
"Now, Wemmbu. I'm not joking around. You have ten minutes, or else." The line disconnected. Wemmbu didn't need him to finish the sentence. He knew what the else was.
He splashed cold water on his face. The armor stood uncomfortably on his frame, making the fabric of his hoodie wrinkle and rub against his skin. It felt heavier than usual, but it didn't matter. He shut the door behind him, sprinting towards the castle.
If he was lucky, this was going to be the last time he wore armor.
•—•—•
Saying that Flame was pissed would be the understatement of the century. His blood was boiling, bubbling up beneath his skin and the speed of its flow was enough to melt it. He was stomping around his base, circling his training ground.
Wemmbu, stupid and dumb Wemmbu, obviously chose to run away. He blew everything up, cruelly killing a handful of people. Innocent people that had nothing to do with him. He did it just for fun.
Sure, it wasn't like he had no skeletons in his closet. They worked together to kill Lettuce's army. Flame murders individuals in cold blood, without giving it a second thought. It became instinct, at some point. If they attacked, he attacked back.
Wemmbu, on the other hand, chose to kill the citizens knowing they were innocents. They weren't even fighting and Wemmbu was targeting them. It got to the point where he needed to be reminded of how to act around others.
Flame was going to show him how to act. Genuinely using words and all of that. He thought about it for a total of thirty minutes before deciding that it was the right thing to do. Mane probably just told him to do whatever he wanted and it was not okay.
So Flame decided that, for one more time, he can set aside their differences and help Wemmbu understand how to socialize. Egg was a great friend for Wemmbu but it wasn't enough. Wemmbu needed friends.
Flame clasped the buckles of his amror, repairing it as a precaution. The experience bubbles floated towards him, climbing his body and smoothing over the scratches and cracks in his items. The rest of it went to Flame, a welcomed refreshment.
It was weird, walking in Arachnid's territory like he belonged. He splashed a night vision potion, following up with invisibility. Better safe than sorry. He wasn't here to fight, at least not yet, so he snuck past the guards and wandered farther inside.
The area felt truly dystopian, with the thick cobwebs hanging from the ceilings, anchoring everything in place. The mansions was were he wasa headed to and even if they were supposed to be for the rich, they looked destroyed.
A dirt house would feel more welcoming. Flame pushed through the normal players, eyeing some of Arachnid's henchmen talking. Flame is aware that he needs to find Wemmbu, but his curiosity always got the best of him.
It wasn't a lot that he heard. His hiding spot was a house over, so it wasn't the easiest conversation to eavesdrop on. The only things he managed to gather were trap, now and Wemmbu.
He started moving faster.
Flame pearled up, not waiting for the elevators to do their work. If they trapped Wemmbu, then he'd miss his chance. His muscles ached as he sprinted, pushing himself to not lose his balance despite the tricky terrain.
Flame knew which one of them was Wemmbu's. The big hole in the roof was a great mark, although not his. He knocked frantically, listening for any signs of living inside. There were none. No footsteps, no soft breaths that his demon ears usually picked up. Wemmbu wasn't here. Wemmbu was already gone.
His heart skipped a beat. He turned the doorknob, forcing the door to open and stumbling inside. The house was filled with stale air, dust covering most of the furniture. There were some signs of use, the kitchen table and a lonely desk in the corner.
The desk lamp was on. It caugh Flame's eye, gleaming and reflecting on a metallic pen. At first, he paid it no mind. He did a quick tour of the mansion, but there was no sign of Wemmbu, only a few of his belongings which were left behind.
He creeped closer to the desk. The lamp was still on. He didn't want to risk someone noticing him here. Under the pen there was a wrinkled piece of paper. It was half written in small and messy writing, but it was very clearly Wemmbu's writing.
He hesitated. His heart did a leap again, sending a wave of dizziness through him. His hand moved to pick it up, bringing it closer. He took off his blindfold to be able to see better.
Then his heart seemed to fully stop. It definitely felt like it, as he read the first words. Three things he needs to know? His hands shook as color slowly drained form his face. Was this Wemmbu's suicide note?
Why was his name there? Better so, why was that sentence not finished? What did Wemmbu want to say, he what? Looked like an idiot?
Flame stood there for a second, note in hand. Loved him, was a thought he quickly shut away. It made his stomach twist, a giddiness enveloping him. Did... did Wemmbu love Flame? Is that what he wanted to say?
If it somehow was, then did he think that Flame truly hated him? Mane was an entirely different case, but Flame? Flame doesn't think he could ever hate Wemmbu. He doesn't want him to die or get trapped thinking that.
His legs moved on their own. He jumped in the players swarming below, landing a bucket clutch before sprinting to Arachnid's castle. He needed to get to Wemmbu first. Not doing so meant failing, not only himself but Wemmbu too.
His heart pounded in his ears, increasing in time with his worry. What if he didn't find Wemmbu? What if... he was already dead? Arachnid wouldn't tell anyone and he didn't have the heart to tell Egg.
He pearled, landing on his foot wrong. He was gratefull for his invis as a pair of hands caught him before fallin. "Bro, you need to be more careful around here." A monotonous voice rang from behind him.
Flame froze. For once, his mind was clear, void of any idea or thought or future plan. It was a clearence for his brain to rest and to feel everything else. Wemmbu's touch was cool, safe even though unfamiliar.
Flame didn't want for it to be unfamiliar, he thought as he turned around. "Wemmbu." He whispered. His voice was breathy and he was still regaining his footing as he spoke.
Wemmbu looked mortified for a second before the previous expression of indifference returned to his face. "You shouldn't be here. I recommend you leave. I was just heading home from an important meeting and I should not be distracted."
Flame stepped closer. He grabbed Wemmbu's shoulders, planting his hands firmly on them. "Did you write it? Please tell me it wasn't you." His voice broke on the last syllable.
Wemmbu didn't move. His head snapped at Flame, going through at least four different emotions. He opened his mouth, stuttering awkwardly before looking at the ground. Flame gripped his shoulders tighter, pearling away with one hand.
The familiar feeling of disappearing an reappearing ended in a split second. Wemmbu heaved, hooking his fingers in Flame's aromor. "Flame." His voice was barely there, audibly on the verge of breaking.
Flame dragged Wemmbu inside his house, locking the door behind. His hand moved to circle his wrist. "Wemmbu. Did, did you mean it?" He watched tears built up in Wemmbu's eyes.
"I'm sorry." He said, finally making eye contact with Flame. They were teary too, holding something way heavier, way less ugly than the disgust he expected. Flame was concerned for him. He didn't want that. "I'm fine, I didn't mean to worry you, I'm sorry."
"Don't." Flame raised his free arm, motioning for Wemmbu to pause. He felt himself get steered to his bed, limbs falling on the soft mattress. "You're getting rest, then we're getting out. Understood?" His voice wavered, but the message was clear.
"I can't, I have to do—"
"It's a trap, Wemmbu." He snapped, tightening his hold slightly. Wemmbu pulled his wrist away and mourned the warmth of Flame's skin. He was always so cold without him. "I overheard them talking. You have time to rest, yeah?"
Wemmbu's mouth hung wide, a single tear falling from his eyes. It rolled down his cheek, dripping on his hands. Flame busied himself with taking off Wemmbu's armor, his soon following. He placed them gently on the floor, then turned to leave.
A weak grip, cold and thin, stopped him. He glanced back, seeing Wemmbu look up at him as if he was five in a playground. "Can you stay?" He asked, hope rising in his purple eyes. "Please? Please, you're so warm, Flame. I missed it here, where it's always cold and freezing."
Flame, well. Was he supposed to say no to this offer? No. So he nodded, climbing in bed next to Wemmbu. He extended his arms, a silent offer of body heat to Wemmbu. And he sure made good use.
In a second, he transformed from Wemmbu to a monkey. His legs were tangled with his, holding Flame in place in case he wanted to leave. His hands circled Flame's chest, pulling himslef impossibly closer and burying his head in his neck.
Flame pulled the blanket up, snaking a hand around Wemmbu's waist. His other scratched his scalp, willing him to sleep. "Relax, I'm here." He whispered in Wemmbu's ear, Wemmbu hummed, absorbing his warmth like a sponge.
It was bad, really, really bad. Wemmbu didn't care about what was happening. Flame knew the signs—Wemmbu wanted Egg safe and the warmth of somebody. He didn't want to die alone.
For now, Flame hid that thought deep in the back of his head. In the morning, or whatever morning was here, they'd talk. Flame promises that to himself and to Wemmbu, who was passed out, but still wrapped around him.
Wemmbu was holding on, and it was enough.