Chapter Text
Couri could feel something wrong, in that handful of stretching minutes that meant the world to the two people in their twinned worlds.
It was tense, even as midoffs went. Coming down to the last moves, in the last few seconds, of the last match. Couri could feel how much it was going to hurt, from the very start. It was a ball waiting to drop, crushing whoever stumbled into it.
He could feel it. He couldn’t do anything about it. He didn’t want to do anything about it. It was entertainment, and Couri would revel in distress as much as the next Chat.
But… Infume. Their Infume. Couri didn’t like to call himself possessive, but he shared Fein’s dislike of seeing their own hurt. It began to itch, in an easily-quieted part of his mind, as his words came separated from his thoughts.
That was a bad move. He’d wanted to hug Infume, already, when he sensed the burn of a poorly-lit leaf on his own skin. Couri had sailed through his invisible wince, narrating with increasing verve. Rose was a good co-host. He was in his element, right now, but he could still appreciate a good fellow commentator.
Now, he could feel the bad ending coming like a sack of bricks. Too many pearls wasted. He was stressed, Couri could practically hear it, and he was panicking. Of course he was panicking.
No one was messaging him. They knew he was commentating this one, but Couri was sure he’d see a thousand messages in the smaller chats when he logged back on. The ones Infume wasn’t in. Fein must be watching, must he tracking Couri’s thoughts like Couri was tracking Infume’s, and he’d be there for both of them the moment this was over. Which was soon. Very soon. It was coming, any second now, as Chat waited for EDCR to hit the zero-cycle.
Poor Infume.
Couri could ignore it, for now, but it tugged at his heart as surely as any of the quiet, sad movies he watched when he was bored. He hated seeing people lose. Even if someone always had to. Even if it gave him a thrill, watching orchestration fall into its final place, a single loser and winner sailing towards their respective endings, it left a bitter taste.
He couldn’t acknowledge it, though. It was easy. Everyone else must be watching, and he’d be with Infume the second he and EDCR logged back onto the admin server, regardless of who came where.
For now, talking. Talking faster, because he talked more when he was stressed, Chat wouldn’t know that, but his friends would. Couri was decomposing the problems in front of him, as his attention zeroed on every arrow Infume loosed, hearing the way his breath must stutter with each miss.
Infume was going to lose. He was saying as much, he could hear himself, in some window in his mind still running to keep the viewers updated. Then what?
Then EDCR needed his championship. That was part of the program. Winner’s ceremony, all of that. Maybe Couri wouldn’t be free for a while.
A final explosion rang through his headphones, and Couri nearly flinched away from his setup, seeing the dragon flash alongside the glowing text in Infume’s overlay. His heart ached, as his voice rose, breath catching in sheer, stressed excitement. Any win was a good win. It was just such a shame it had to be Infume.
Rose was cheering, too, in the part of his mind devoted to the present. Couri was going faster, and faster, saying nonsense words to hold attention, as his was fixed on Infume. The stream would be panning away, now.
Second. Second wasn’t that bad. Couri calmed, watching Infume, in the video link only he and Rose could see, now. They were the only two people left watching, as the cameras switched to another server, where EDCR was probably revelling in his own endorphin rush.
Infume wasn’t. Infume wasn’t doing anything.
Couri knew he still needed to be talking, but he was losing pace. Rose picked it up, switching her attention to the replays, while EDCR pieced himself together.
Infume was streaming first-person, so Couri didn’t see how he sat down. He only saw their video link sink to the ground, shaking over endstone and a dragon still circling overhead. No audio. Nothing at all, to tell him if Infume was crying, or entirely silent, or something else.
Couri stared for too long. He could feel it, itching, could feel himself trying to stare through a screen to feel Infume’s pain.
As he pulled himself back, his eyes flicked up, across Infume’s screen, and a soft breath escaped him. The dragon was still circling. Infume seemed checked out. He could die there, and that would be an even shitty way to end the match than merely losing.
Couri couldn’t leave here. He needed to rejoin Rose, he was still in the grace period that could be passed off as his own awe, those few seconds in which he had to make a plan.
Pulling up his private chat, Couri typed quickly, tearing his attention in two between Rose and Infume as he sent a message to Parker.
Couriway: go get infume
Couriway: please
Couriway: you have admin access and I need to commentate
Couriway: Ill join you asap but I need a minute
Rekrap2: on it
Rekrap2: We’ll be okay, don’t rush
Oh, Couri was going to rush. Infume was going to need all of them.
——————
For a few seconds, Rek considered saying something else to Couri, before real instincts kicked in. Infume. God, he’d known Infume wouldn’t take that well.
Couri was right, thankfully. He had easy access, even to the runners’ servers. Commentators had full permissions, and were some of the few people trusted with universal whitelist.
All that to say, Rek logged on without an issue, following Infume’s route straight across the world to the End portal. It was a bit of a trek, but he managed, with the help of a boat. It was like he was running it himself, after all.
His comm was strapped to his arm, open to the emergency broadcasts channel, the only ones that he could receive here. Otherwise, Rek was cut off. It felt almost eerie, on a Ranked seed that not a single other soul had access to, except the one he was trying to find. He was alone, in a perfect world. Searching for Infume.
Rek presumed his responsibility here was to get Infume off-world, and with the rest of HBG. He might be expected to do some of this himself, and he gladly would, but he also knew Fein and Couri, and they’d want Infume back as soon as possible for debrief and some winding down.
He’d need it. This had been a rough season. Rek always thought that second was one of the worst things to achieve. Infume had gotten so close, and fallen at the very last hurdle, tripping just inches away from the podium. It would feel like an insult, to be helped onto it, after that.
Rek was more than happy to help. Couri had trusted him with this, even if he’d seemed desperate.
Also, there was a hell of a sunk cost going into this, for Rek. Any and all commands were disabled, in here, locked into the bare basics of this game they dedicated their lives to. Rek was doing this in survival, even if he had a top runner’s footsteps to follow in.
In hindsight, he could have gone through the Nether. But that came with the risk of navigation, and Rek would rather play it safe than stumble into lava. He wanted to do this right.
And it didn’t even take too long, as he jumped into the portal, pillaring up the same way Infume had.
The first thing Rek saw was the dragon. It was still circling. His eyes lingered, for a moment, instincts itching to kick in. He shook them off with a small laugh, and pushed his feet forward, towards the small figure huddled against the off-yellow stone.
Infume was on his knees, spread under him, hugging himself with his head dropped all the way to his chest. Rek could see his shoulders shaking from half the island away. He couldn’t hear him, until he was no more than a handful of blocks off.
“Infume?” Not wanting to spook him—he’d been on the receiving end of that too many times—Rek made sure to announce his presence, keeping his hands empty and general manner non-threatening as he circled around, into Infume’s eyeline, if he chose to look up. “It’s Rek.”
“Go- go away.”
Rek wasn’t fond of the End. He didn’t like lingering in it, at least. So he was inclined to follow Infume’s shaky request, but probably not in a way he was going to like.
“With you?”
“No.”
That sounded like it was the end of it. Infume probably deeply wanted it to be the end of it, but unluckily for him, Rek wasn’t very bothered by that. He had a job, and that was to be a good friend. So, he crouched down, and didn’t touch, but did see if he could start easing Infume back to the idea of normality.
“Season’s over. They’ll be shutting down the worlds soon, and I think HBG’s waiting to congratulate you.”
“I- I lost.”
“You came second. Pretty big difference.”
“…still- still lost.”
Infume was more talkative than Rek was expecting. And sniffly, too, which he couldn’t be blamed for. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.
Rek reached out, just to touch his shoulder, and Infume whimpered, flinching backwards. It seemed to disturb something, a sign of distress that didn’t go ignored by even the dragon above them, who chose that moment to change direction, startling poor Infume more.
“Hey- you’re good. We can get out of here.” Rek held up his comm, and held out his hand. He needed Infume to touch him. Neither of them were about to beat the game, so they might have to use a few minor exploits to get off-world. “Ready to see the others?”
From where, until now, he’d been hiding in his white hoodie, Infume raised his head, soft blue eyes meeting Rek’s with a fright that bordered on childlike. Rek tried another smile, his hand unshaken, just waiting for him to be ready.
Or… he was.
Until Infume took one more look at him, and his hand, and took off running, scrambling to his feet in a moment almost too fast for Rek to catch.
“…frick.”
Rek was only a little slow on the uptake, getting up like a normal person, not whatever scared-bunny move Infume had just pulled, and launching himself into a run. There was nowhere particularly to go. Rek wasn’t an experienced hunter, but he’d been prey enough times to cobble together some strategy.
The obvious answer was to run Infume to exhaustion. One of them had just run a Ranked seed against a world-class opponent and lost by mere seconds, and it wasn’t Rek. He had spare energy to burn, while Infume must be running on fumes and sheer adrenaline.
The second option was to try to reason with him. Rek imagined it was the mention of the others that had frightened him. He could talk Infume down, maybe grab him, but he didn’t have many other options.
Third was real pursuit. Which Rek was neither dressed for, nor interested in, but would, if it came to it.
For now, he was focused on the pillar Infume was hiding behind, slowing to more of a walk as he got closer.
“There’s really… nowhere to go, around here, you know.”
“Go away.”
“I actually do need to-“
“Fuck- fuck off, Parker.” Infume’s voice cracked, and a small sob was audible. Rek paused. “I’m not- I don’t want to see them. Ever. Just... leave me alone, please…”
“Ok.”
Rek moved fast, but Infume seemed almost ready for the move, catching his eye with a terrified look as he went haring off again, dashing to the next pillar before Rek could even grab him.
This was going to be a challenge, then.
Rethinking his strategy, Rek watched Infume from their respective pillars, watching the fear in his eyes settle to apprehension, the longer Rek didn’t move.
When he did, he went fast. Curving towards Infume again, feigning the idea that he could simply be outpaced, then switching as soon as Infume started running again, beelining for the next pillar along.
But some miracle—or Infume’s exhaustion finally catching up to him—Rek caught him. Nearly at the next pillar, but still close enough that he could tackle Infume without hesitation, grabbing him bodily and wrestling him to the floor before either of them could think too hard about it.
For a runner in peak physical condition, Infume went down easily. Rek tried to soften the fall, but there was still an uncomfortable thud as they both hit stone, Rek instantly moving to pin Infume’s hands as he started crying again.
“Alright.” His voice was tinged with exertion, now, and Rek knew he was losing any pretence of being gentle he might have had, going into this. “Done?”
Infume whined. He moved his head, too, like that would help. Like Rek was about to hit him, for some stupid reason, when the main reason he was even holding Infume down was so he didn’t accidentally stumble into the Void in a panic.
“Ok.” Rek was talking both of them down, at once, feeling Infume’s racing pulse with the same grim fatigue as his own pounding heartbeat. “We’re ok. I’m taking you back to the others. Then you can cry, and… try to run again, I do not mind. Anything else you want to do, before we leave?”
“Let- let go…”
The struggling was getting weaker, but not for lack of effort pouring into it. Rek was just very aware that Infume was running himself to empty, and was more than a little anxious to get back to the others before he was dealing with an unconscious body, rather than a panicking friend.
“Nope. We’re leaving, now. Get ready.”
That must have gotten through, on some level, because Infume went obediently limp, breathing getting faster and shallower for it. It wasn’t perfect, but Rek could work with it, as he transferred both of them to the HBG main server.
His fingers dug into Infume’s wrists, for a moment, until his knees were no longer pressing against rough-smooth stone, but cobbles, and Rek could hear someone running towards them.
“Parker?”
Rek was focused on Infume. They were still in the same position, but Infume had stopped moving, and he was irrationally terrified, for a moment, that moving worlds had broken his code somehow.
Thankfully, it didn’t take more than a small squeeze to his hand, as Rek sat up a little, and Infume’s breathing hitched, his eyes still firmly shut.
Rek looked up, just in time for Fein to come running over, and pause, as he fully comprehended the scene in front of him for a few seconds.
Their eyes met, Rek’s staring blankly through a neon visor as Fein did absolutely nothing. Infume was still hyperventilating softly beneath him, not looking at either of them.
“…Fein, are you going to help?”
Rek tugged a little on Infume’s wrist as he spoke, unthinkingly, but making his point sufficiently when the resulting whine was audible to both of them.
Fein twitched, nodding quickly, and crouching down.
“Sorry. Couri just… said you were getting him.”
“I got him.” Rek could hear his own blood, his voice harsh and solution-oriented. “I wasn’t expecting it to be fun.”
“Yeah. Fair enough. Sorry. You want help?”
“Yes.”
Infume was out of the consultation, for this one. Rek shifted, kneeling beside him with his grip firm around Infume’s wrists, dragging him up as Fein helped him to his feet.
Neither of them made the mistake of letting go. Even Fein seemed to sense it, keeping a careful touch on Infume’s shoulders as he stood still and shaking between them.
With a small shake of his wrists, Rek recaptured his attention, voice low and eyes drilling into Infume’s teary, unfocused gaze.
“I’m leaving you with Fein. Did I hurt you?”
No response. None at all, even in the trembling of Infume’s shoulders, tiny, repetitive flinches away from Fein’s gentle hold. Rek met his worried eyes, for a moment, then looked back, pressing harder.
“You fell. Did you hit your head? You can go after this, I just need to know.”
It was possible, more than possible, even, and it was half a selfish desire, driving Rek’s determination. He wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight, not because he’d hurt his friend, but because he’d let him walk away without either of them knowing.
Infume wasn’t helping. Rek wasn’t even sure he was listening. His pulse was going like a hummingbird, his whole body vibrating with unspent tension.
It exploded, suddenly, action snapping back into Rek’s face the second he tried to relax, to try something gentler, as Infume jerked, and ducked, and stumbled into a run.
He didn’t make it out of the cobblestone square they’d built around Spawn, before Fein was on him.
It was admirable, really, the hunting-dog satisfaction in Fein’s eyes as he dragged Infume back by his collar, switching to a bruising hold on his upper arm by the time they were back in front of Rek.
It had taken five seconds, or less than. But Rek felt some sense of defeat, and shook his head. He’d be getting nothing out of Infume, now. Not when he was really crying, breaths coming shorter and sharper as he ducked his head away from both of them.
“…never mind. Fein, can you- can you just check him? I need to-“
“No problem.” Fein nodded, a little of his nerves eased, somehow, by a more practical application of his skills. At least one of them was coming out of this better off. “Are you hurt?”
Rek paused. That was a fair question. Unexpected, but fair.
Mentally, he checked himself, too. A few scratches on his hands. A little too much adrenaline, and he might be in for a panic attack when it died down, but he needn’t bother them with that.
Glancing back over to Fein, Rek gave a thumbs up.
“Nope. All good.”
His hands were shaking. He pulled them back down, quickly, shifting his weight to hide the stress. Infume’s eyes found him, and Rek was irrationally terrified, for a moment, that he’d be snitched on, in some way.
“Sure. See you this evening?”
“See you, Feinberg.”
——————
Fein was enjoying perhaps a bit too much of a superiority complex, as he tugged Infume in front of him and towards their HQ.
He’d lost to EDCR too. And he hadn’t had a mental breakdown in front of the dragon about it. It might be mean, but he was keeping it to himself, and processing it now, so he could soothe the few wounds his ego had suffered with exactly how much worse Infume was taking it.
Infume, who’d tried to bolt again twice now, and was still going. Fein had wanted to let him go—he hadn’t, but he’d been aware of the warning looks he’d get if he turned up and looked too much like he’d hauled some poor runner back to their base in a state of disarray—but it hadn’t proven doable. It was either he held on to Infume, or Infume tripped over his own feet trying to flee.
Which was also not impossible. Infume was lacking coordination by the moment, expected, really, after what had after all, been only a few seconds off a world-class run, but it was his desperate attempts to fight it off that were doing him the more harm. Fein was half holding onto him like a leash, half just keeping him on his feet, as he struggled miserably like a baby deer in a snare.
He’d had way more energy, after his run.
Now, Couri would tell him that wasn’t fair. And Fein wasn’t looking to be fair. He was looking to get all his thinking about himself out of his system now, so he could devote his full attention to Infume, as soon as he found a good place to put him down.
He found Hax, sitting in their living space alongside Rowl, both of them far more concerned with Couri’s ongoing analysis with Rose, but looking up when he practically dragged Infume inside behind him, despite him pouring every ounce of resistance he could into opposing Fein’s hold.
“Uh- hi? Is this- oh… hi, Infume.”
Infume looked like he wanted to die. He was trapped, for now, by Fein holding him firmly in place, but there was a teary note to his still-hitching breaths.
“Be with you guys soon. Or I might get Nerdi.”
“He’s somewhere else around here.”
“Thanks.”
Sparing Infume, Fein carried on, feeling him relax, a little, just in time for them to brave stairs. Like he’d decided other people were a much, much worse fate than simply letting Fein push him around.
Fein’s hand slipped down to Infume’s wrist, almost relaxing into merely holding his hand, but was stopped just a few steps up by almost being tugged back himself. He looked back, and found fearful, arctic eyes lingering on him and the stairs.
“Dude… stairs?”
Infume looked up, and shook his head. It was a momentary motion, and Fein may be fairly heartless, but he could see the slight, shaking effort that Infume was putting into merely staying on his feet.
With a sigh, Fein walked back down, and stared at Infume, for long enough for both of them to be uncomfortable.
“Do you want me to carry you?”
A nod, quicker than he was expecting in return to what had mostly been a joke. Fein had backed himself into a corner, though, because no part of him wanted to say no to Infume, who was now looking at him with wide, pleading eyes.
“…fine. Whatever.” Rolling his eyes, Fein made a quick plan, and nodded in return, hiding his reluctance what he would call well. “Don’t tell Couri.”
Bending down a little, he got a good hold at around Infume’s waist, who took the cue fairly easily, hooking his own legs around Fein’s hips and clinging onto his neck like a koala.
It wasn’t the hardest thing. Just his pride, which Fein would willingly set aside for anyone, and for Infume, he didn’t even need to ask. Infume wasn’t that heavy, or difficult to accommodate, or protesting, as Fein took the staircase carefully. Just a weight around his shoulders, practically limp as he was finally relieved of even the stresses of staying on his feet, pressing his face into the crook of Fein’s shoulder and staying there, even a they reached level ground again.
“You want down?” Fein didn’t dare take a hand off Infume, even if he could probably support himself, but did move his head, nuzzling gentle against hair streaked with ash and stone dust and dirt. “Gonna have to put you down eventually.”
Infume’s hold tightened, almost strangling him, and Fein took that as an answer. He nodded, and readjusted, and took a moment of pride in the fact he could still carry any given HBG member, if called upon to do so. Even if he’d been trying not to, after Couri had gotten a little too comfortable trying to jump into his arms without warning.
The short walk to his own bedroom felt longer, with a passenger attached to him obstinately, but Fein got to enjoy feeling Infume’s heartbeat calm to an almost reasonable rate, before he was nudging his door open, and leaving it open, because Infume wouldn’t notice, and if anyone else wanted to drop by, they were more than welcome to.
Fein made short work of detaching Infume from his neck and waist, dropping him softly onto messy bedsheets, and immediately following to sit beside him as Infume tried his best to hide under the duvet.
“Alright. Yeah- you know, buddy, you can do that. Want to chat?”
“No...”
It was pretty much the first complete word he’d gotten out of Infume, so Fein was taking that as a win. He patted Infume vaguely, fairly sure he got his knee, with how the duvet was wrapped around him.
“What’s on your mind?”
“I… god, I- I fucked up those pearls…”
“Yep. You did.”
“And- I fucked it up from the start, fuck, these leaves were- so stupid, but I didn’t know what else to fucking do-“
“It wasn’t a bad move. Bad RNG.”
“I’m so fucking stupid…”
Shifting the duvet off his head so he could wrap it better around his shoulders, Infume curled in on himself, staring nowhere near Fein with tears glazing his eyes. His shoes were on the bed.
“If you’re stupid, what am I?” Fein ruffled Infume’s hair, raising his eyebrows to make the point. “At least you lost in the finals, buddy.”
Infume sniffed, and nodded, with only a fraction of reluctance.
“‘M better than you, though.”
“Right. That’s nice.”
“I am. You- you got all the way to the semis, and I- couldn’t even fucking win, it’s been- fuck, I- I’ve lost so many fucking times…”
“Can we… tone down the swearing?” Fein eyed Infume carefully, gauging his reaction. It just felt strange, when he was so distressed, to hear him swearing like a teenager. “I’m sure you can criticise yourself without it.”
“…fuck, yeah, o- ok…”
“Continue.”
“I… keep losing, and-“ Infume sounded genuinely lost, trailing off after only a few words, and staring vacantly. “Shouldn’t I be somewhere?”
“I mean- the commentators would love to see you.” Fein checked his messages, incidentally reminding himself to keep an eye out for Couri. “But that doesn’t feel like the best idea.”
“No…?”
Infume trailed into a questioning whine, blinking up at Fein unsurely. It was cute. The kind of thing Couri would fawn over, and Fein was a little inclined to coddle Infume for as well.
“No.” Fein reached over, just to hug Infume for a moment, squeezing his shoulders with such cuteness aggression he had to do something with it. “You’re here. We’re making you feel better.”
“It’s just- just you, though.”
“Because you’ve gone running every time you’ve seen a new person since the end of the tourney.”
“…oh. Uh… yeah, fuck, s- sorry…”
“Do you want to see anyone else?” Fein pulled away, staying close enough to maintain Infume’s attention. “Couri’s still stuck on stream for just a little longer, but pretty much everyone else wants to see you as much as EDCR.”
Infume flinched. It was a small thing, a momentary twitch, but Fein still saw it. It made him frown, tugging at his brow as he sat back, catching the worried glance cast at him.
“I’m okay-“
“No. It’s fine. You want to see the others?”
“Not if… they want to see replays.” Nervous, Infume’s fingers twisted the blanket, his eyes lingering anywhere that wasn’t Fein. “Way more interesting than me.”
“Sure about that?”
Fein could override him. No one would even blame him, he could drag Infume downstairs right now and leave him in the middle of a room with a dozen people ready to congratulate and comfort him. It would take the pressures off him, at least. No need to navigate these murky waters alone.
Or he could do this himself. Not even just because Couri would be proud of him for it, but because Infume looked so sweet, hiding under a blanket like a child.
“…no.” Infume sniffed, and laughed, and looked for a moment like he might break into tears again. But he took a shaky breath, and nodded, holding onto it and his composure. “Can… can I have a hug?”
“Of course you can.”
Fein wasted no time, leaning closer and pulling Infume the rest of the distance between them, wrapping him securely in his arms and the duvet. It felt so good, for Infume to have even asked, Fein didn’t care about tear streaks or awkwardness.
Which there was a bit of, as Infume worked out where he wanted to be in the suddenly-confined space, fidgeting until his face was pressed against Fein’s shoulder, and their heartbeats were almost echoing into each other.
“Thanks…”
“No problem, buddy.”
“I… fuck, I- I lost midoffs…”
“You came second in midoffs. And, again. At least it was the finals.”
“…yeah.”
“Feeling better?”
“No. Maybe a little.”
“Okay. Few more minutes.”