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It was never supposed to end like this.
It was never supposed to go this far.
Building that damned missile was a step too far, he could admit that. Even in his stubborn mind, he could agree that he hadn't thought the whole thing through carefully, acting mostly on impulse and the fear that was eating him up inside.
But at that time, he was really, really sure he had no other choice if he wanted to protect Nacho. People were becoming more and more aggressive, more and more thirsty for blood and revenge, and he preferred to send them all to hell rather than let anything happen to his son.
And he had it under control. As always.
Until he didn't, of course.
He should have kept his fucking eye on Nacho. After the situation with Katie, he literally shouldn’t have lose sight of him, following him every step of the way, and not letting anyone within ten meters.
He shouldn't have fallen asleep, since even blinking seemed too risky. He shouldn't have let Nacho walk out of the reactor on his own.
When he disappeared the first time, that time with Katie, Multi was honestly certain he wouldn't be able to bear that excruciating pain in his chest piercing him through , that he would die on the spot, practically hearing his heart shatter into pieces.
He doesn't remember much of that day, only a suffocating panic, laced with an anger so intense it practically seared his mind like living fire. In blind amok he killed his employee, a Dark Federation employee, then struck down Ash and Don when they happened to cross his path. And he didn't even care. None of it seemed important compared to the kidnapping of his child.
He hadn't thought much then, despair flooding his senses. He had no plan, wandering wildly across the island, calling for his son.
If it weren't for Katie, he didn't know what he would have done.
Obviously she'd screwed up, badly. So badly, in fact, that the whole situation was almost irreparable.
But she'd come too, bravely admitting it and offering a solution. Holding him as he crumbled before her like a broken toy, choking on sobs too much for his body, shaking as if in a fever.
Katie had saved the day. She'd saved their little family, despite the price she'd had to pay. And how much Multi had wanted to be angry with her then, to pour out all the pain her betrayal had caused, but…he couldn't. He couldn't, feeling nothing but such immense relief that his knees buckled beneath him as he fainted in front of her once again.
How is it possible that he allowed this to happen a second time?
This time, Katie wasn't even there.
She wasn't at her HQ, nor at the long-forgotten KFC, nor at her home on Schlatt Island.
She was gone. She disappeared to nowhere, and with her went his hope.
He only had himself to blame.
At first, he did not believe in the truth of the message from Dark Cucurucho, because why would he? They had never even met and Multi wasn't even sure if this asshole knew he existed. It was more likely that this idiot Ewron did it, probably wanting to make him suffer or take revenge for something he got up to in that empty head of his.
It couldn't be true. After all, Nacho had only just found himself, and besides, he was now going everywhere with Cupcake and Pancake; there was no way anything could have happened to him.
No, no, that wasn't possible, it wasn't…
But…but Cucurucho wouldn't allow it, would he? Surely he wasn't that damn useless?
The photo fell from his hands as a shiver gripped his entire body. With trembling fingers, he texted Ewron, not even looking at what he was sending, as panic took over his body and chaos reigned in his mind.
Nacho.
Nacho.
Where is Nacho??????
The photo—Yes, yes, the photo! NO, there's nothing in the photo! He doesn't know where it is, he DOESN'T KNOW WHERE IT IS!
He had to find Katie, he had to tell her. Maybe this was just another stupid misunderstanding, right? Yes, yes, definitely, he'd find her soon, and she'd explain everything to him, that there was nothing to worry about, that everything was fine. She'd know what to do.
He didn't find her.
With each step forward, with each new place he checked, he felt the last vestiges of hope slowly fading away within him, which was the only thing that pushed him forward, begging him to go a little further, to call out again.
And Multi was so terribly tired. His mind deflated, no longer even having the strength to panic, dissolving into a dark, dense despair, beneath which yawned a deep, icy void. He didn't even notice when he had fallen to the ground and vomited beneath himself.
He mindlessly teleported straight to his tower, looking up at it as it loomed over him menacingly like an executioner.
Maybe this is how it had to end.
He reluctantly began to climb, no longer even seeing the world around him. Nothing mattered anymore. There was nothing anymore.
He didn't even hesitate, when, after finally reaching the very top, he went behind the railing, finally letting go of the remnants of life that remained in him. Throwing himself to the ground.
That he survived was thanks solely to his armor, which had absorbed some of the impact. Not all of it, knocking him off his feet and causing something inside to snap. The sharp pain almost sobered him; almost, because it didn't stop him from slowly climbing back up, completely ignoring the deepening trauma.
He deserved this.
For Nacho, he deserved every bit of pain.
That he had survived the second jump was the pure cruelty of the world. Laughing in his face, denying him even a peaceful death.
Maybe the world was right. Maybe these few extra moments of agony would at least somewhat erase his guilt.
Nacho…
Poor little Nacho…
For him, even an eternity in the abyss of hell will not be able to atone.
He tried once again to get to his feet, but the searing pain made him fall back to the ground, tears obscuring his vision.
Fuck, he c-couldn't stop now, just one more time and…
A sudden, arrow-sharp thought cut through his barely conscious mind, making him freeze in his position on the ground.
But…Nacho had a transmitter. Fuck, NACHO HAD A TRANSMITTER!
He was such a damn idiot! What the hell was he even doing, he had to—
Okay, okay, okay, he just had to get up. No big deal. He was ready for this.
With a weak hand, he reached into his lab coat pocket, praying the syringe was intact. Fortunately, the glass was intact, burning him like fire in his hand.
The liquid glowed faintly, shimmering dangerously in the sun with its chemical color.
Without a second thought, Multi rolled up his sleeve, jabbing the needle directly into his vein and pressing the plunger. He instantly felt the substance surge through his veins, hot as lava itself, as if burning him from the inside. He collapsed with a helpless cry of pain, feeling himself drifting on the verge of fainting.
But a moment later, he leaped to his feet with feverish energy, teleporting straight to the Federation lab.
He would need help finding Nacho.
Katie only learned of the news the next day, when she returned to her HQ. As soon as Multi noticed she was available, he immediately sent her a message, begging her to meet him as soon as possible.
A moment later, they were standing opposite each other at the reactor's Waystone, Multi nervously pacing and Katie watching him silently.
"...Are you okay?"
The scientist jerked his head up, glancing at her worried face and cautious tone.
Multi let out a hysterical chuckle, waving his hands incoherently as if to deflect her question.
Well. He probably didn't look too good.
He hadn't sat down for a second since yesterday, let alone taken a nap, pacing the entire reactor like a madman, from the missile silo to Nacho's room, and from Nacho's room to the silo.
He doesn't even know if he's had a single clear thought since then that wasn't pure panic. The substance still coursing through his veins made his frantic thoughts fuel his frantic movements, and he couldn't stop for even a minute to tend to his already terribly swollen leg.
He probably looked haunted.
To be honest, he felt a little like it.
"Katie, we're not talking about me right now!" he said, desperately grasping her jacket, silently pleading for her attention.
She stared at him for a quiet moment, as if weighing his words, then nodded in acknowledgement, gently pulling his shaking hands away from her.
“Lead the way.”
Multi breathed a sigh of relief, turning on his heel and walking quickly inside, fast enough that even Katie, with her long legs, had trouble keeping up.
Meanwhile, he had already begun rambling on about everything that had happened yesterday, not even noticing as his steps were subtly redirected from the office to the corridor leading to the operating room, gently guided by her.
When they entered, Katie sat him down on the settee, not even hearing a single protest in return, as the scientist seemed to be oblivious to his surroundings, completely focused on the story.
His pulse began pounding in his ears again as he replayed yesterday's events. The mere thought of Nacho still sitting there, alone and terrified, made him so nauseous that he instinctively began searching for a trash can.
Katie, as if reading his mind, placed the container on his lap, frowning at him. When he finished vomiting, she took the basket from his useless hands, placing the bottle of water she'd pulled from her backpack inside.
Multi stared blankly at the object in his hands for a moment, as if unable to connect the dots and guess what to do next.
"Drink," Katie suggested quietly, unscrewing the cap to show her meaning.
The scientist mindlessly obeyed, feeling his brain seem to be shutting down. As if after all this madness, someone had suddenly come and turned off the battery button in his mind.
After the bottle was taken from him, a warm hand grabbed him under the chin, tilting his face up toward the light. Katie was now staring into his eyes intently, as if searching for something.
"Did you take anything?" she asked quietly, narrowing her eyes in concern. Multi blinked slowly, staring at her uncomprehendingly, not responding.
Katie only sighed, letting go of his chin and instead pinching the bridge of her nose.
"Okay, okay, okay, everything's fine." She suddenly dropped her hand, abruptly turning back to Multi. "Do you have a plan?"
The scientist nodded several times, suddenly regaining some of that morbid energy, and began to slide off the settee, as if remembering everything. And before Katie could react, he found himself on two legs, suddenly making a painful sound and falling to his hands and knees.
"Fuck—" she cursed under her breath, rushing to help and lifting him back up. Once he was safely seated back, she started looking for the cause, ignoring his weak protests, grabbing his pant leg and pulling it up, then slipping off his shoes as well.
At the sight of his horribly swollen ankle, already dangerously blue, a surprised gasp escaped her lips. She looked up at his face, now hidden behind his dreadlocks, gritting her teeth.
“What happened?” she asked quietly, gently examining the injury with her fingers. Multi remained silent, still not even looking up.
The prolonged silence was finally broken by louder-than-usual breathing, which soon turned into sobs muffled by the sleeve. Katie jerked her head up, looking at the source of the sound.
Her heart clenched painfully.
Multi's shoulders trembled beneath his apron as desperate sobs racked his small frame.
“You weren't there, Katie,” he confessed indistinctly, still burying his face in his hands, avoiding her gaze. “Y-you weren't there, and I-I didn't know what to do, I c-couldn't…”
Before she could even think, she was already pulling him into a suffocating embrace, feeling a terrible pain in her chest, unable to bear the sight. A strong hug interrupted his hysterical flow of words, freezing him in place.
Multi had never liked hugs. People were always too warm compared to him, always too effusive, squeezing him too tightly, until his mind began to doubt their good intentions. They always carried too many germs with them, too many microbes of unknown origin, which God only knows how they'd react if he accidentally brought them into the lab.
Well, they seemed to notice this quickly, from his stiff posture or his literal struggles, and stopped trying.
Not that there were many people who wanted to hug him anyway.
Katie was the exception. As always.
No matter how many times he slapped her hands away, didn't hug her back, or actively avoided her, she never got discouraged. She never got upset about it either, sometimes just teasing, but always with that smile of hers, full of some incomprehensible tenderness.
This time there was no smile on her face.
And this time, Multi returned the hug.
A little awkwardly, clutching at her jacket at the back, a little too tightly, like a drowning man clinging to a raft.
He was indeed drowning.
He was drowning in too many tears, now soaking Katie's clothes, transferring that terrible pain in his heart onto her. He was drowning in his runny nose, unable to even catch a desperate breath, hiccupping between shallow inhales. Drowning in all of those emotions that now flooded his body in conflicting waves, colliding in the middle like a storm.
And Katie was a raft. She always had been, even if he hadn't fully noticed it before, let alone appreciated it. Without her, he would have drowned long ago, suffocating beneath all those masses of cruel water.
She kept him afloat once again.