Chapter Text
Usually the nights at new home were rather calm and uneventful ones. The streets of the Underground capital would mostly be desolate save for a few monsters taking strolls who enjoyed the quaint serenity of the night. But this night was different. On a secluded balcony a good bit away from the residential areas, a clash took place which may very well decide the fate off monster kind. A clash between a grieving mother and a young cowboy, both determined to complete a mission they had both sworn themselves too. For one however, no matter the cost.
Clover sneered in pain as a fireball hit them square in the chest sending them flying backwards, their back hitting the wall with a painful force, knocking the wind out of them. Clover panted, grabbing at their torso, vision getting blurry. Burn marks covered their skin and clothes. Their head was bleeding considerably, their forehead was lacerated with blood continuously dripping down their face and into Clover's eyes, making seeing harder than it already was.
Ceroba herself wasn't in good condition either. She was exhausted. Continues barrages of attacking and Clover pelting her diamond barrier with their SOUL left Ceroba gasping for air under her mask. She had never intended for this fight to drag out as long as it did. Quite the contrary. The longer this battle between them went on, the harder it became for Ceroba to commit too her mission. She had planned for this fight to end quickly, but much too her dismay, Clover seemed to have had other plans. She meant every word when she had stated that the young gunslinger had earned her respect, but their clash had come to a point where Ceroba was starting to wonder if she hadn't bitten off more than she could chew.
She had underestimated Clover, that much was clear. What wasn't clear however was the extent of how far her underestimation reached.
Ceroba had wondered how a child had made it this far in the underground while everything around the corner seemingly had it out for them. She was now getting first seat answers to her question.
Clover was persistent. Frustratingly so.
Nevermind the fact that the child had seemingly precognitive abilities with Clover dodging just about any attack Ceroba threw at them, when Clover did get in a hit, nothing seemed to keep the Cowboy down for long. Just one bite into whatever item they pulled out of their satchel, and Clover was already back on their feet again. Just how much food could fit into that cursed satchel!?
The longer the fight went on, the harder it became for Ceroba to keep up the relentless assault of magic. Not just that, but the gravity of her actions were starting to creep up on he. On what she was actually doing. She tried blocking out those thoughts, but she could deny reality only for so long. Which was making an attempt an innocent child's life. Not just on any child, but a child she had spend time with. A child that had followed her every request. A child that had trusted her. Well, that trust had certainly shattered into a million pieces by now. Just like her diamond barrier was about to shatter once again.
However, it wasn't just her who was reaching the limit of their capabilities.
Whether is was was fatigue or Ceroba upping the rapidity of her attacks, Clover was getting sloppy in their dodging. The Fox started getting in more and more hits as time went on, and it wasn't lost on her that Clover was beginning to heal more frequently between intervals, until she noticed that, despite being in pretty rough shape, Clover hadn't consumed anything for a good while. They were bleeding, their movements significantly slower, Clover's face wincing at every step they took. With how debilitated Clover seemed, they should have pulled some sort of healing item out of their satchel...but they didn't. The implications were clear to Ceroba. Clover was out off food.
Her suspicions were all but confirmed when the last fireball she had sent their way hit Clover dead center. She watched as the Cowboy was flung against the wall, gripping their chest as they struggled to breath. For a split second Ceroba felt a moment of clarity hitting her like a freight train. She was watching like a predator was eyeing its prey with hungry eyes. Ceroba was thankful that she was wearing Kanakos mask. Maybe she could still bring herself to look in the mirror after all of this was said and done.
But this might just be to moment she had been fighting for. Ceroba noticed that Clover was unable to fully lift themselves up, instead kneeling on their left knee while supporting themselves on the ground with their right hand, head hanging between their shoulders desperately trying to catch air.
Finally, this could be it. Ceroba's eyes gleamed as she tried to ready her next and final attack, eager to capitalize on Clovers moment of weakness...only she found herself needing to suddenly lean against her staff. That last flurry of attacks she had sent the Cowboys way must have drained her more then she had realized.
Clover sniffed, trying to wipe the tears away with the little strength they had left to spare. They tried to get up but Clover's legs failed them, buckling under the weight of their body that they could no longer bare. A thousand thoughts were shooting through their mind, none of them coherent enough to make out through the sheer volume of the ringing going through the Cowboys head. With all the willpower Clover could muster they managed to lift their head up just enough to look their opponent in the eyes.
Clover could not make out anything of Cerobas behind Kanakos mask. Even the broken bits, shrouded in darkness, impossible to make out. Only her piercing gaze stared back at them, filled with so many emotions and yet none at the same time.
They eyes were in a deadlock, both of them unwilling to back down. Not after everything they had gone through. Not after coming this far.
Clover was determined to see this through. They saw that Ceroba was on her last leg, barely keeping herself stable on her staff. However, Clover also knew that much the same was true for them. Any hit from any attack at this point would do them in. And so, both of them just stood there for a moment. A moment that seemed to stretch for eternity. Their gazes locked, exchanging an indescribable amount of words that they could not have spoken even if they had wanted too.
With a deep breath, Clover leaned their back against the wall, and pressed their feet against the ground, slowly heaving themselves up, finally managing to again stand on their own two legs. Clover's entire body seemed to protest this action, muscles aching with pain they had never felt in their life before, and yet, Clover refused to give into the weakness that was beckoning them to simply lay down and close their eyes for some much needed rest, and let the darkness that was forming around their peripheral take over.
Clover again looked up to the Fox, who had also managed to stabilize herself again no longer relying on her staff for support.
Clover's gaze was defiant, their hands balled into fists and even though Ceroba could see their entire body shake, they seemed more determined than ever to finish what she had started. Clover's head was slightly tilted downward making their oversized cowboy hat cast an eerie shadow over their face, particularly their eyes, making the already intense look Clover was giving her even more unnerving.
Ceroba didn't know it was possible for a mere child to make her squirm too this extent. Then again...Clover was way more than just some ordinary child. The Gunslinger had long proven that aspect long ago.
Ceroba noticed that Clover was eying her last bell whirling around. Her barrier was already near its breaking point and in her state she most definitely would not have power to conjure another one. If she got hit again right here, everything she had done up to this point. The betrayal committed, the trust abused, it would all have been for...
No!
Ceroba slammed the hilt of her staff on the ground, shaking her head and dispelling those thoughts. Failure was not an option. Not when she had come this far. Not when she was this close to achieving what Chujin had worked all his life to accomplish. Not when she this close too savin her daughter. Her dearest Kanako. She couldn't fail. She wouldn't fail.
With a howling scream she pulled every ounce of energy she had left into her soul.
The culmination of her life's work was standing In front of her, and it would end right here, and it would end right now!
Clover watched as Ceroba summoned more masks and chimes around her. Fireballs began floating over her head and the fox repositioned herself into a combat stance, the air around Clover crackling with raw magic ready to be unleashed upon them. A sense of finality washed over the young child.
Clover let their gaze first wander to Starlo, who was leaning slumped against the wall. The strike the sheriff of the wild east had received from Ceroba's staff had looked painful enough. Clover remembered the fun times they had spend together even if there were some hiccups between them and Starlo after the short dissolution of the Feisty Five, and the trials they had to go through to earn their deputy badge...their badge...
Clover gently let their hand trace over the star pin adorned on their chest. While it had been shining bright and proud before going into this fight, it was now charred and burned, having lost its spark.
Letting go, their face now turned toward the one monster who mattered more to them than anyone else in the entire underground.
Martlet was the only reason Clover had even made it this far. From their first meeting down at lower Snowdin, to the scorching heat of the dunes and the wild east, through the endlessly stretching mines, all up to the point of new home. She was the only one who had been at their side through thick and thin, guiding Clover through nearly the entire underground.
It made no sense. Clover had known her for days, but the feeling of familiarity was one of years. The feeling of recognition wouldn’t let go—impossible memories, always slipping loose just as Clover tried to grab them, like a thought that dies on the tongue. It was maddening.
Truth be told, Clover felt the exact same sensation with other monsters as well, but the sense of Deja vu was the strongest with Martlet by far.
Seeing her sprawled out like that hanging over the edge of the balcony made their entire being shudder with...fear? Anger? Worry? All three combined?
Clover didn't know, and to be frank, they didn't need too.
No. Clover needed to focus. Focus on what was in front of them. On what caused all of this in the first place. On who caused all of this in the first place.
The future of theirs right now might be unsure, but there was something Clover was absolutely sure about. They would make Ceroba face justice.
So, taking in a deep breath, steeling their nerve and resolve for what was undoubtedly to be their final act of confrontation, Clover tore their attention from their injured friends and re-focused it on the monster responsible.
The wind was a tender breeze, bringing with it a gentle cool brushing against Clovers painful burns which covered most of their body, a stark contrast to the violent clash that was inevitably about to happen.
For a short while time appeared to stand still both Clover staring deep into eachothers eyes, deep enough to reach their SOULs. The entirety of the Underground seemed to hold its breath in the face of this standoff, until-
Clover's pupils dilated as multiple fireballs shot into their direction. With speed that should not have been humanly conceivable and not even a second to spare, they managed to throw themselves to the side, barely dodging the scorching flames which would have surely killed them as they shot past. None needed to connect for Clover to still feel the burning sensation that made their skin crawl as.
Clover rolled of the ground, transitioning into an immediate second dodge dashing away as a diamond formed where they had been standing mere moments ago, followed up by flower petal strikes. Clover hated that attack in particular. Few things could match the fear and hopelessness as your body tensed in an unnatural and painful way, taking away the ability to move, forcing you to watch as attacks with the intent to kill struck your body. It was cruel, too say the least.
Ceroba cursed the second wind that seemed to have graced Clover's wings. Either she had miscalculated just how much she had whittled the cowboy down, or she was a bad judge of character. Both were unacceptable notions in these circumstances. The fox had put everything into that attack, enchanting it to strike as fast as possible, even making sure to account for a dodge by casting her immobility diamond, just for all of her efforts to be rendered null as Clover avoided both her attacks.
She hadn't even managed to track Clover's movements as they did so. She shouldn't be surprised though. In a way, the standoff they just had was one straight out off one of the western movies Star had always forced her to watch, and she was facing a cowboy after all. She might have been quicker on the draw, but Clover was all the quicker on the dodge.
Ceroba's face contorted angrily under the mask. She knew she couldn't give Clover any room too breath. If she did, rest assured a soul bullet would find its mark, and that would be the certain end of her efforts on the cowboys soul. So she continued with her relentless barrage of attacks, trying her best to trace Clover's movements as they weaved and dashed across the entire balcony with unbreakable tenacity.
Though as soon as she had started her attacks again Ceroba immediately noticed that she could not keep this up any longer, feeling as her body began to fail and her knees started to crumble.
She had worn herself out, depleted her magic reserves. In a few seconds her entire being would falter and break under the enormous strain it had been subject too. Ceroba had to end this battle now, lest it would be her end.
Not in a literal sense of her life. No, she knew Clover would never. But Ceroba? She wouldn't hesitate.
Clover woud.
She wouldn't.
They would always hesitate, find another path that didn't involve resorting to violence. Always so innocent. Always ready to help. Always doing the right thing. They were too naive. Too pure. It wouldn't be the end of her life, but the end of her resolve to march forward. To do what would be necessary. She wouldn't have the resolve to try this a second time. That, she knew with calculated certainty.
Ceroba almost let out a bitter chuckle. She really was irredeemable scum.
She gripped her staff tight, banishing those thoughts for the moment. They would certainly come back later with a vengeance, but there would be plenty of time for unrelenting self-hatred after finishing Clover and the deed with them.
Focusing on Clover, Ceroba redirected her Ketsune masks behind the cowboy, the projectiles forcing them closer to the fox, still just of the reach of her staff. Then, for just a moment, Ceroba let her attacks cease. Her previous suspicion would be confirmed instantly. As soon as Clover found stable footing, the cowboy pointed his soul at her last remaining chime. Unbeknownst to them, this was exactly what Ceroba was not just expecting but betting on.
The moment Clover had their soul pointed at the target that would end this nightmare, they felt a familiar warmth building up under their shoes. A split second decision had to be made.
Sure, Clover could technically get a soul bullet of before the fire shower they would be drenched in would hit, but that wouldn't matter should they die immediately afterward.
With all other options exhausted, the only way forward, was forward.
Clover jumped ahead, the fire shower erupting behind them barely grazing their hind legs, burning the already tattered and torn cloth of their clothes away, searing the Cowboys flesh.
Clover had no time to register the pain. The instant they rolled of ground they noticed the shadow that had manifested over them. During the seconds Clover had been busy avoiding painful immolation and subsequent certain death, Ceroba had taken the momentary opportunity to lunge forward, her bodies shadow consuming Clover's small frame in its entirety.
The entire duration of the fight the two had kept themselves at somewhat of a distance. Both emotionally and physically. Now, they were as close as ever and Clover could grasp all the emotions Ceroba was emitting. Sadness, frustration, despair, love, hatred (Whether for Clove themselves or Ceroba herself, Clover could not tell) converging into a single point, namely her hands holding-
Clover's heart skipped several beats. Only then did they realize they had been read like an open book. Ceroba's staff was already raised high over her shoulder, poised to strike. Her crimson eyes, half-hidden by the darkness, stared down at them without mercy, an oppressive aura rolling off her with a weight Clover had never experienced before.
For a minuscule moment that seemed to stretch for eternity, time seemed to stand still, unmoving. Fear embedded itself into their skin like a parasite, threatening to lock Clover's body in place.
Ceroba proved her own hateful thoughts about herself true. As soon as the Fox had closed the distance between herself and the child, she clutched her staff with strength that made her hands throb in pain.
With a sideways downward motion Ceroba brought down her staff with speed and might she didn't know she possessed, burning the air around it creating sparks in its wake.
In some manner they couldn't explain even to themselves other then some sort of divine intervention, Clover managed to duck at the last second as the staff skimmed just mere centimeters above Clover's head, eviscerating their cowboy hat in the process. Even as it swung past Clover could feel the raw power behind that strike, which if it had connected would have no doubt cracked and split their head open like a watermelon. They had to wonder at this point if it was desperation behind that strength, or unspeakable hatred.
It didn't matter however as Clover immediately noticed she had put all her eggs into that staff strike, leaving her lower body completely exposed.
Ceroba couldn't recover from her missed strike in time. With a force that should have been impossible for a child, Clover drove a knee straight into her abdomen. Her diamond barrier—meant to shield her from harm—shattered instantly, taking her protective chime with it.The impact hurled Ceroba backward, slamming her against the edge of the balcony. Agonizing pain shot through her back as her knees threatened to give out beneath her. Through vision blurred by the blow, she looked up just in time to see Clover charging a Soul Bullet.
For the first time since the battle had begun, dread gripped her heart.
No! She couldn't falter, not now!
With the little remaining shred of strength she didn't know she had Ceroba raised her staff in an desperate attempt to block the incoming bullet.
Clover lined up their SOUL against Ceroba's defense. A single big shot erupted from it. First it struck her staff breaking it clean in two, before finding its mark in Ceroba's mask, completely shattering it.
Ceroba stumbled back a few steps, and then...she gave out. First her body, then her spirit.
With her fighting spirit being exorcised from her body, Ceroba sank to her knees. She stared at the shattered splintered across the concrete in front of her. Meekly she spread out her arms, quitely picking up the pieces of her mask and staff, pressing them against her chest. No longer able to hold back the flood of emotions, she finally allowed the dam to break. Tears rolled down the side of her face, whimpering cries beginning to escape her as memories of Chujin and Kanako began drowning out anything else.
Once more her efforts had proven in vain. Yet another failure added to the already crushing pile.
Her shoulders sacked as her head fell down to her chest.
The battle was over. She had lost.
The revolver in Clover's hand was feeling heavier than it ever had. The Cowboy had overcome many a-foe in the underground. None had pushed them to their limit like Ceroba had, and not just just physically.
Clover couldn't even begin to describe what kind of emotional roller-coaster they were going through. The Gunslinger had always considered themselves to be an individual with a strong moral compass, however Ceroba was strongly putting that belief to the test.
The Fox was right in front of them, slumped to her knees. She had asked them to put her out of her misery, and Clover was more than willing to grant that final request.
Why shouldn't they? Ceroba was right. Clover had every reason to do it.
She had done unforgivable things. She had betrayed them. She had hurt her own friends. After everything they had been through together, she had planned to take their SOUL. And worst of all, the memory of Kanako still lingered in Clover's mind, as vivid and painful as if they had lived it themselves.
Clover did not know Kanako directly, but the fate she had been subjected too by her own mother no less was one of cruelty.
Now Ceroba had asked them directly.
Wouldn't this be justice?
Judgment, delivered in its purest form.
Maybe...Maybe it would be.
But Clover's heart betrayed them.
The reason their hands were shaking right now aiming the revolver at her wasn't because of fear.
The reason they were breathing so hard and heavy wasn't because of pain.
The reason their eyes were tearing up wasn't because of some inner conflict of morals.
No, the reason why Clover was even considering ending her wasn't righteous justice. It wasn't unbiased judgment.
It was pure, unbrittling, boiling anger the likes of which they had not felt since back on the surface.
There was no inner conflict. Just a very thin rope of restraint that Clover was clinging too, threatening to tear at any moment.
Everything seemed so calm around them. The balcony was littered with beautiful pink petals, as well as broken branches falen from the tree which had suffered multiple stray hits during their confrontation The air smelled burnt and the barrier to the surface cast a light upon new home which could not be described. But this serenity was only a thin-veiled lie on the brink of collapse as Clover struggled to hold onto their last remnants of composure
This is justice.
They repeated too themselves again and again.
This is justice.
Clovers breathing got heavier.
This is justice.
Clovers hands ceased to shake.
This is justice.
The pressure on the trigger grew heavier.
This is justice.
The veil of lies is lifted
This is vengeance.
Clover pulled the trigge-
"Ceroba..."
The words cut through the tension like a hot knife through butter.
Starlo let out a painful groan. Angel, his back was killing him. "You...beat me up p-pretty badly, huh?" The sheriff managed to heave himself up, clutching his shoulder. His had hit the balcony wall hard, and it sure as hell was a painful hit, but that wouldn't stop the Wild East sheriff.
"S-star I..." Ceroba began. He didn't let her finish.
"Don't sweat it too much..." He let out a dry chuckle. "I reckon I deserve it for the Wild East fiasco. Heck of a hit tho. I didn't know you had that in you." he noted with subtle hint of a smile, but secretly cringing inwardly. He had caused quite the unnecessary ruckus hadn't he? Well, with what he just went through the debt was paid the sheriff reckoned. Now was not the right time to dwell on the past anyway.
"I'm...I'm so sorry..." Ceroba's voice was laced with shame.
North Star made his way next to the deputy, a smell filling air he couldn't quite place, yet made his skin crawl. His focus now shifted from his childhood best friend too his deputy who was looking worse for wear from the last time they had seen them.
Clover had certainly seen better days and God how were they still standing? Their clothes were torn with an entire lower sleeve missing on their right arm, char on practically every patch of their cowboy outfit and dried blood mixed with sweat. Clover was also missing their ten gallon hat. Bruises scattered about on their body in colors Starlo didn't know possible. Most notably, the huge burnmark on Clover's exposed torso with the skin seared considerably. North Star had to ask himself again how the Deputy was still standing, and his heart ached as he noticed the now near indiscernible charred deputies badge bestowed upon them by yours truly.
It wasn't until now that Starlo could finally place the smell in the air as he caught a whiff of it once more. It wasn't a smell he got to experience often, but rather on the occasions when his posse or family and him were cooking together. Given the circumstances it should have been obvious.
It was the smell on burned flesh. Undeniable in its intensity. Impossible too ignore. Knowing who the stench emanated from made North Star shiver.
Before the Sheriff could comment further subtle movement from the left caught his eye. Both Starlo and Ceroba turned their heads toward the now awakening blue bird, supporting herself leaning against the balcony edge.
"Wh...Where am I?" Martlet groaned holding her wing against her throbbing head. The pain. Angel, the pain. It pulsed through her skull in relentless waves, exploding behind her eyes until every color in existence bled together before her. She stared down the abyss in front of her. Was she on a balcony? And why was she lying so close to the edge? She managed to stand up yet still had to lean against the balcony for support, lest she'd lose her balance.
She cursed herself. Stupid scatterbrain! She could always count on her memory to fail her when she needed it the most.
Alright, think, Martlet. Retrace your steps. What were you doing just a few moments ago? Think you idiot, think! You were...("Ma-tlet! Grab-over!"). This wasn't her managing to actually remember anything on her own merits, unsurprisingly. She'd be surprised if she managed too actually do something in her life correctly for once. This was just a sudden memory coming back to her. But that voice. It sounded so familiar. Urgent. Had she been doing something important? Grab over...? Grab...over...Clo...? Clover...? Grab...Clover.
"CLOVER!" Martlet shot up in an instant startling a concerned North Star who had made his toward Martlet too check up on her. Her head painfully reminded her that she was very much still feeling dizzy and unstable on her feet.
Starlo stretched out his arms as Martlet tripped over her own feet letting out a surprised yelp before being caught by the Sheriff.
"Easy there Feathers, you alright?" North Star asked, patting away some dirt from her shoulders. Martlet didn't even acknowledge him, and Starlo could see the panic etched into her face as her head frantically whirled around scanning the area for his deputy. Her brain failed to register the kneeling Ceroba at the opposite far end of the balcony.
"Clover!? Clover we gotta get out of..." The words died on her beak as her eyes were now trained on an severely wounded cowboy, standing motionless. The Sheriff could make out the exact moment her face shifted from panic to sheer horror.
Martlet felt her feathers bristle one by one. The sight before her made her head spin. A lump rose in her throat, her stomach twisting as she stared. Clover, battered and bruised to near unrecognition. It took all her strength not to retch as her stress levels went flying through the roof. The stench hanging in the air only made it harder, sending a shudder through her body. The state of Clover themselves made her wince. She wanted to look away, and yet-
"Clover...?" The child did not react, vacantly staring forward. Martlet followed their gaze. She blinked a couple off times. Her stupidity was seriously starting to irritate herself. Of course she had to take Clover away, but why did the 'why?' take so long too just now dawn on her. Ceroba's gaze was cast downward surely to avoid having to look either Martlet, or Clover in the eyes. The Fox herself wasn't looking too bad, but what caught Martlets attention were items she was holding. A staff and... pieces of a mask. The few gears in her head started to turn. Martlet could have sworn that those pieces looked familiar too her.
Nevermind that, Ceroba didn't look like she'd be getting back up anytime soon. Yet Martlet couldn't help but feel on edge before a leather-gloved hand placed itself on her shoulder "She's done." Starlo whispered solemnly, the weight in his voice heavy. Martlet glanced back at him, then to Clover, then back at Ceroba, then finally toward North Star again, giving an unsure nod, before focusing herself on Clover again.
She made a few careful steps toward the child who had still not acknowledged her, and it took her a lot self-discipline too not buckle under the sheer pressure she felt building up inside her. Clovers face was obscured by his now dirty and charred hair, making it hard for Martlet to get a read on them. Should she call out to them? Should she keep going? should she stop? By the time her scatterbrain took to make a decision she had subconsciously already made her way toward Clover, and now that she was close Martlet could truly see just how badly of shape Clover was in.
"Angel..." Martlet whispered to herself.
She slowly began to kneel beside the child, deliberately making sure her movements were slow as too not startle them, putting her wings on her knee. The sheriff opted to stand back and give them some space. He hadn't really had the chance to fully take in Clover, and now as he did, he couldn't help but feel an uncomfortable unease creep up into him.
"Clover..." Martlet tried again, moving beside them. Her voice was slightly louder now, but no less gentle.
Nothing.
Clover stared straight ahead. At first, Martlet had thought they were looking at Ceroba. Up close, she saw that that wasn't the case at all. Their gaze went through her, through Ceroba, past the barrier itself, fixed on some distant point only they could see.
Their eyes were unfocused and hollow. Their breathing was slow enough to make Martlet's feathers prickle. If she hadn't know any better Martlet could have mistaken Clovers behavior for calm.
But she did know better.
Martlet looked back over her shoulder at North Star who was wearing the same grim expression she was.
Martlet hesitated for a few seconds before she slowly reached out at Clover. Once again she paused letting her wing hang in the air before finally mustering the courage gently put her wing on their shoulder.
As soon as she did Clovers eyes widened, suddenly life shooting back into them. The child sucked in a scared breath before clumsily stumbling a few steps back. Their hands clutched their revolver which both adults who were observing them had somehow failed to notice, and raised the weapon alarmed at the direction where the touch had just come from
"S-stay back!" Their voice trembling with fear as were their hands.
Martlet promptly pulled back her wing and took a few hasty steps back herself raising her wings with wide eyes. "W-wait! Clover, i-it's me! Martlet!"
"Woah there, easy deputy, it's just us!" North Star tried to assure Clover as well, raising his arms halfway.
"M-miss Martlet?" Clover asked wearily. "Is that you? I-I can't-" They blinked a few times, shaking their head. Their right eye was swollen shut and the left had leaked blood all over it from the laceration on Clover's forehead. They tried to wipe it away with their torn sleeve on their arm, but instead just smeared it even worse. And their head. God their head was pounding and a constant ringing in Clover's ears made it hard for them to focus on anything.
"Yes Clover, it's me..." Martlet's answer barely a whisper, trying not to choke up. She felt ill. "I'm gonna come toward you now, okay?"
"I...I..." Clover blinked again. It sounded like her, and they could make out a blue smudge a few steps away, but...what if it wasn't? They couldn't do this again. Clover had suffered many hits. Died many times. They couldn't go through all of this. Not again. Clover was tired. So so tired. They just wanted to lay down and sleep. Anything for just a few hours of rest. They hadn't rested in...actually Clover couldn't remember the last time they had taken a break. All they knew was that it had been far too long.
"N-no, wait," Clover began. Martlet noticed that they weren't actually looking directly at her, but past her. "Please, stay there. I just...I just need to..." Needed to what? Not even Clover knew the answer to that. What was their plan here?
"I can't do that." Martlet carefully answered. "You're...you're hurt very badly Clover..." The gun was still pointed roughly in her direction, and Martlet would be lying if she said she wasn't scared. She was. Who wouldn't be when a clearly unstable child was pointing the end of a barrel toward them?
But Martlet couldn't let herself be deterred right now. She had promised Clover that she'd keep them safe. That ment weathering every storm that came her way, even if it was Clover's own. She had failed to protect them at every turn. Almost killed them during their travel with Ava. Let the Feisty Five kidnap them. And finally, her birdbrain had allowed itself to be tricked by Ceroba into leaving Clover alone with her...unprotected. Martlet was a failure through and through. That's what her whole life had been about. Failing. At everything.
But not this time. Martlet owed Clover that much. This was the one chance she had to make up for her humiliating performance as a 'guardian'. She would keep moving forward. And if Clover pulled the trigger...Well, that'd be one more way to prove she was useless.
She almost laughed.
Great plan, Martlet. Traumatize the kid even more by making them kill you. That'd surely lighten the burden they were already carrying.
Angel, she really was hopeless.
...And still, even knowing that was a very real possibility, she refused to back down.
Martlet took a shaky breath.
Here goes nothing...
"I know you're scared Clover but...I can't leave you alone like this. I'm...I'm gonna take a step forward now." Just as she said, Martlet took a step forward. It didn't escape both Martlet and North Star that the moment she did, Clovers grip on their revolver tightened even further, the latters shooting hand twitching in instinct.
Starlo opened his mouth, considering an alternative suggestion the the blue bird. But he hesitated. Sure, him and Clover were close, but no one was as close to the deputy as Martlet was, that much anyone would agree with. Her and Clover were birds of a feather (pun intended) and knit as tight together as a noose. So, Starlo opted to keep his trap shut. If anyone could get through to Clover, it was Feathers.
Martlet took another step, wings still raised. As she did, she caught Clover blinking rapidly with their left eye, presumably to get a better focus on her.
But nothing happened.
Another step forward. This time Clover visibly flinched, and the gun repositioned itself dead center between Martlet's eyes. Her entire body tensed and she pressed her eyes shut while North Star squinted in silent apprehension.
She was still breathing. Another step then.
This time there was no reaction, however Martlet could see the uncertainty painted across Clover's face, their impaired vision no doubt contributing to Clover's confusion . At this point Martlet was only two or three steps away from Clover. If she'd dash to the side and then forward she'd probably be fast enough to grab or knock away the revolver Clover was shakely holding in their hands. Martlet however knew she wouldn't. This wasn't just about disarming a threat. It was about keeping Clover safe both physically and mentally. Doing that would mean the exact opposite. Who knew what kind of fear Martlet would inflict if she forcefully took away the only safeguard Clover probably had in their mind.
Despite the circumstances of Martlet staring down the barrel of a gun, she forced herself to take another step forward.
Just out of reach.
The final step.
Martlet was now standing right infront of Clover, her wings remaining raised high. Once more she slowly knelt in front of them, getting onto eye level with Clover.
This was the closest she'd gotten to them since their failed escape attempt. Martlet could now make out every detail.
Every wound.
Every bruise.
Every burn.
Every gash.
Every scar.
The journey had taken its toll, and Clover had paid in full. Martlet felt her SOUL tear itself apart. This was her fault. It was her mistaken, her idiocy, her incompetence that had led them here. If they had never crashed with AVA none of this would have happened.
She felt herself choke up. But she couldn't crumble under her self-pity. Not yet.
"Hey," She warmly muttered. Clovers wide gaze now firmly locked onto hers, rushing with to many emotions to discern. Their gun was still aimed at Martlet with the finger of the trigger however. With the utmost care Martlet slowly let her wings glide down as she reached for the revolver. Clover did nothing but continue to stare at her, until finally her wings firmly grasped the iron. "Easy..." Martlet gently whispered.
The feeling of warm feathers brushing against their hands were instantly recognizable too Clover. Their breath hitched, and any tension in their body drained away, and all that remained was utter exhaustion.
Martlet slowly pulled the revolver, and it slid out of Clovers hands with no resistance. Martlet mustered a smile that never reached her eyes. "There you go...you're okay." Martlet said and nearly decked herself as soon as those words left her mouth.
Clover was not okay. Clover was anything but okay.
She laid down the revolver beside her. It was looking worse for wear since the last time she had seen it. Martlet turned her attention back to Clover, closing her eyes as she let out a big sigh of relief.
They were looking at her. Looking for something. Martlet wanted to say something. Wanted to apologize. Apologize for everything Clover had to go through because of her. But her mind blanked. Nothing came out. What could she even say?
Instead, she reached out with her wings. She didn't know why she did or what she was hoping to achieve, but she did. It had to be better than nothing, right? As she did, Clover watched her movements, before extending their own two hands. Martlet had never noticed how small their little human hands were compared to hers. How small Clover was in general. With how independent, brave and mature Clover always acted, it was easy to forget that they were still just a child. A child, whom had to go through so much pain and suffering no child should have to endure.
The reality of it all hit Martlet the moment Clover reached for her wings. Their touch was hesitant at first, almost afraid. But moments later, their grip tightened until it was almost desperate, clinging to her as though loosening their hold for even a heartbeat would mean losing her forever.
"Don't worry, I won't let go..."
Clover's body let out a tremble and Martlet wondered is she had one or said something wrong, before Clover leaned forward and pressed their head against her chest, arms wrapping tightly around her. After being caught in surprise for a moment at the sudden gesture, Martlet immediately reciprocated. She almost squeezed as tightly as Clover before remembering their condition and instead gently putting her wings around them.
"I-I'm here for you Clover..." Martlet cooed, having to use all her resolve to keep her voice from breaking. "No one can hurt you anymore..." Clover was breathing heavily against her now, and Martlet could hear them sob with each breath drawn, her own eyes threatening to tear up. Martlet leaned her head against theirs and softly caressed Clover's matted and ruffled hair. It too was burned form the battle before.
Beside them, North Star watched the scene unfold in solemn silence. It took a great deal to shake the sheriff's composure. This was one of those rare moments. Without a word, he bent down and retrieved Clover's revolver, where Martlet had set it only moments before. After a brief glance at the weapon and a moment of nostalgia, he slipped it into his spare holster. No one would draw a weapon again for tonight. That, he'd make sure off.
He observed the two embracing for a while longer before turning his head toward his childhood friend. Ceroba had been wordlessly watching them. She hadn't moved even an inch, arms still clutching her broken belongings. Weather that was because she was too tired to do so, or because she didn't dare too, Starlo could not say. Once she noticed him eying her, the Fox averted her gaze in shame. North Star let out a long sigh. Whatever would happen after all of this, it was going to be a handful to deal with.
A serene atmosphere washed over the balcony, the wind humming its peaceful tune. North Star leaned against the blossom tree to rest his hurting body a bit, before silently gritting his teeth as a sharp pain shot through his shoulder. Something definitely must have busted after he had hit that wall. Had to be his shooting arm too, of course. Starlo rubbed his eyes. This was going to be a long night.
Martlet and Clover embraced for what felt like an eternity. For a moment she managed to forget all about the painful journey they had to go through, and instead just focused on Clover. How they were clinging to her. The trembling had somewhat lessened and their grip wasn't as tight anymore, yet still strong. She continued to stroke their hair before Martlet caught movement in her peripheral.
Their gazes locked for a second, and Martlets expression instantly darkened.
"Give me a second," she whispered. Clover hesitated before reluctantly letting go. Gently, Martlet eased the child back against a wall. Then she turned. Her eyes focused onto Ceroba, hard enough to cut steel. Without a word, she marched toward her, intent clearly hostile, the tip of her wings curled into fists.
"What do ya think ye're doing?" Starlo placed a firm hand on Martlet's shoulder.
"What am I doing!?" Martlet's head whipped around. "Look at Clover!" She pointed toward the injured child resting against the wall, head hanging low.
"I can see Clover just fine. That still doesn't tell me what exactly ye're plan is." Martlet's face contorted in anger, but before she could say anything North Star continued. "Look, I know how ye're feeling, but now ain't the time to let ye're anger get the best of you."
"But-"
"You think startin' another fight is gonna do us any good? Think Feathers,"
"Don't Feathers me." Starlo ignored her remark.
"What's more important right now? Satisfying ye're anger, or treating Clover?"
"Easy for you to say when it's not your friend on the line." Martlet shot back
"You know that this isn't about that." Starlos voice sharpened. " Don't pretend ye're the only one who cares about the Deputy. Stop actin' dense and focus on what's important right now!"
"You know," Martlet harshly shoved Starlo's hand of her should "I should have known from the get go that neither of you could be trusted. Even after everything you-"
Martlet's tangent was interrupted by a gurgling sound erupting from behind. Both her and North Star turned their heads just in time to see Clover grab their stomach as mixture of yellow and red shot out of their mouth.
"Holy-"
Clover let out a few coughs, more mukust leaving their mouth before their eyes rolled into the back of their head, and their body slumped down sideways face first into the muck and concrete.
"CLOVER!? CLOVER WHAT'S HA-"
The rest of the sentence never registered. Somewhere in the distance, Clover could still hear a panicked voice, but the words themselves were lost to them. Their vision faded by the second, the world dissolving into an indistinct blur. One by one, their senses slipped away until they couldn't even feel the cold concrete beneath their cheek. An unnatural chill spread through their body, followed by a crushing exhaustion that involuntarily pulled them toward the darkness. Clover fought to stay awake, to hold on for just a little longer.
But it was no longer their choice.
The last thing Clover remembered were tears dropping down onto their face before the darkness fully consumed Clover's remnant of consciousness.