Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Thingamajigs can’t get hurt. Scratch that. Thingamajigs aren’t supposed to get hurt. They’re supposed to be quick, powerful, and even purposely lack the limbs for better mobility. So, when a Thingamajig does get hurt, what’s done about it?

Well, they get better.

The perks of being built with Lums are increased strength and regeneration. Since Lums build everything in the Glade of Dreams, why can’t they build themself? Thingamajigs were designed so they could last extended periods of time without needing to ‘heal’ themselves, or at the very least, serious healing. When they’re saving the Glade, they don’t have the ability to stop and recover. But sometimes, they get so injured that they need outside help to fix themselves.

A gasp of air was heard, then a slam. The snapping of wood and the soft smack of the grass followed soon after, then a shaky breath. If he hit the tree any harder, his limbs were sure to fly off. The pelting on the rain did little to ease his wounds. As he collapsed on the ground, and with the strength he had left, he glanced up. A red Lum hovered up into the air, ignoring the rain. He let out a chuckle, not from joy, but from shock as another sound in the rain caught his attention. The light bouncing of the grass was an immediate reminder that he hasn’t won yet.

In front of him was a Psychlops, grinning wildly at its fallen prey. Its singular eye looked up and down, seeming to examine the recent damages it just caused.

The person managed to get to his knees and clutch his chest as he looked down. Where his floating hands were covering shone a bright light. He moved his hands slightly to see the wound the Nightmare just punctured in him. There was a luminous hole right in the middle of his circle. He looked back up and shot a determined glare at the enemy, using the tree he crashed into as support to stand.

He wasn’t injured only on his torso. His knuckles and face also showed a bright light, but not as bright as the hole. He wiped his cheek with the back of his hand to get some of the sweat off. He couldn’t bleed, but if he could he would be covered. Actually, if he had any of the organs Teensies and Glutes had, they would all be broken.

Another laugh escaped the Darktoon’s mouth, its wings flapping up and down. It found entertainment in his suffering. This mockery only fuelled the hero’s anger.

‘Why is this so hard? I’m Rayman. I do this all the time!’

He thought, scanning the creature for any weak points. Its spikes were up and baring, so punching wasn’t an option. Maybe he could distract it or–

SHING!

Another spike was thrown at Rayman, but luckily he rolled out of the way. He didn’t have the strength to get up, so he was now on all fours, scowling at his foe. His body shook from the pain, but also a twinge of humiliation.

‘This shouldn’t be so hard. What am I doing wrong?’

Yes, the man hasn’t been on any crazy adventures as of late, but a break shouldn’t make him this bad at fighting a Psychlops of all things… right?

The rain increased in severity, droplets of water poured down and snapped him out of his thoughts. It also made it harder to see the target, but it was affecting the other party as well. They stood in the rain for a second, waiting for the other to make a move.

‘Ok, I can’t hit his sides. Where can I aim without looking like a voodoo doll?’

He eyed the Nightmare up and down and noticed its massive eye. It was also having the same sight problems as him, but probably worse. It blinked the water out of its eye rapidly, moving back slightly in the process. The Thingamajig grinned to himself and stepped back as well.

The downpour only got more aggressive as time went on. The gray hues covered the once yellow-greens of the forest. The only thing giving off light in this view was the hero’s gaping wound in his stomach. He stumbled back, his footing constantly slipping on the wet grass. After a few more steps, he shot one last glare, his sopping hair providing minimal protection from the rain, and ran forward.

The Psychlops looked up and gasped to see a foot to the eye. The second the sole made contact it let out a cry of pain before collapsing in on itself and bursting. Rayman let out a shaky breath and looked up at the passing blue Lum, the light fading as the clouds got darker.

He let out a chuckle and looked at his hands. Their wounds, from what he could see, seemed to be getting better. His lower-half… well he may need some help fixing that.

‘No… I’m stronger than that. It’s just a scratch anyway. He’s the problem, not me.’

He felt another sting of pain from the wound, causing him to fall to his knees, or wherever his knees were. He gritted his teeth and stared at the light again. It only got brighter by the second. He was glad he couldn’t physically have blood, or else he would be dead on the ground.

His breathing turned from shakily to downright coughing. He hasn’t been injured this bad since… well, a while. How was this possible? It was just a Psychlops. Was it just a stronger one, or was he losing his touch?

As the main hero of the Glade of Dreams, the latter option couldn’t be true. What would everyone do if they found out that the Rayman couldn’t defeat a simple Psychlops. He felt the puncture again, resulting in him wincing from the contact.

Rayman was really glad that it was raining right now as tears swelled up in his eyes. Tears of pain, yes, but a little bit of guilt. He blinked rapidly as the rain roared around him. The wind picked up, only making him colder.

He clutched his wound, but it slowly turned into him just clutching himself. He let out one last sob before falling over. Even in the pouring rain, he was able to make out something. Through the drum of the water, faint voices could be heard. Someone… or some people, calling for help. Was it help? His brain was too exhausted to make a conclusion. The voices got louder as the hero’s eyes drifted shut as the storm took him over. His light grew brighter as he slowly lost consciousness.

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“Rayman..?”

“Rayman…”

“RAYMAN!”

The sudden noise jolted the Thingamajig awake, only for him to feel a sharp jab in his chest. He let out a hiss as two small hands held his back, gently lowering him back down on the bed.

“Woah, woah, Ray. Don’t move so much.” The voice instructed as something else readjusted some sort of wrapping on Rayman’s torso. Rayman let out an uneven grunt in response. His eyes were still closed as he steady his breathing. “You seemed to have had quite a battle. I’m surprised we even found you in all that rain.” It continued, rubbing his back.

Rayman breathed in and out before finally opening his eyes. He was on a bed wrapped in various blankets and leaves. Around him were two of his friends, Globox and Grand Minimus. They both seemed to be covered in mud, even Minimus’ cloak had stains. They also were both slightly damp, with Globox’s skin being shinier and the king holding a towel, drying his hands.

The Thingamajig blinked a couple of times and glanced down. Where he was stabbed was now wrapped neatly in some bandages. He looked at his hands to see them also bandaged. He touched his hands to his head but pulled away, flinching from the sudden pain.

Outside the window was the rain, not as hard as it was when he was fighting, but still pouring. The only thing he could mumble right now was, “W… what happened? How long was I out?”

“Not long after we found you, thankfully.” Globox explained, turning around to dig through a bag on a nearby table. He pulled out some ointment and tilted his head back, “You were in critical condition, buddy. I was worried sick!”

“I’ll be fine, Globo– ow!” He clutched his hand again, still sore.

Grand Minimus rolled his eyes and grabbed Rayman’s hand. “Fine?” He repeated, his eyebrows furrowing. “Is a massive hole in your chest ‘fine’? If you were any other species, Rayman, you’d be dead.” He scolded, letting go of his hand.

The Glute walked over, pouring some of the liquid in a wooden spoon. “I second that. What were you even fighting to take down… you?” He shoved the spoon in Rayman’s mouth. “Here drink this…” He mumbled quietly before continuing. “Or at least get him to this state?” His question felt more directed at Minimus than Rayman himself.

Rayman coughed before forcing himself to swallow. He was reminded again of that Nightmare, the one that managed to get several vital hits on him. On the 'Hero of the Glade'. He changed the topic swiftly, not ready to admit his near-defeat yet. “Ugh, Globox! What is that?”

“Betilla gave it to me after we found you. She said it was something involving red Lums?” He squinted at the label on the bottle, turning it slightly.

“Red Lums? Guys, you know I don’t use that stuff.” He exclaimed, wiping his mouth with his hand.

The Teensy quickly shut him up though. “Ah! Ah! Ah! I don’t want to hear it. I know you think you’re ‘too good for this stuff’, but you need it if you want to survive.”

“I told you two, I’ll be fine! I can handle myself.”

“If you can handle yourself, why did we find you passed out, in the rain, basically bleeding to death?” Minimus quipped back, his arms crossed. “I had to get my cloak dirty and my shoes muddy for you.”

“Guys, guys! Can we please not fight? At least not now?” Globox pleaded, pushing Minimus slightly away from Rayman. “We sort of have a kind of really injured friend now.”

The hero lightly pushed his friend’s hand away. “I told you, Globox, I’ll be okay.”

“Rayman, as much as I want to believe you, you just won’t heal without the help of Lums. Or at least, not as well or fast.” Globox’s eyes shined with concern and worry for his best friend. Grand Minimus, as stubborn as he is, also nodded at his statement.

Rayman hesitated, his head lowered down slightly. He knew his friends were right, but there was a part of him who hated using red Lums. He always told himself that he could heal himself, which he could. But even he knows his limits, and one of those limits is being impaled.

Minimus raised an eyebrow at his hesitation. “Don’t tell me you’re still worried about André–”

“I’m not worried about André! It’s just…” He took a deep breath as looked at the ointment his creator prescribed. “This stuff just feels cheap.”

“Now, now, Rayman. This ‘stuff’ is from the Fairy Council. It’s the last thing from cheap.” Globox put the medicine back in the bag. “You don’t know how much Minimus had to plead to skip the line.”

Rayman rolled his eyes. “Hah. I assume not much because it was ‘the Rayman’ in danger.” He referred to himself in a mocking tone.

The Teensy scoffed, his expression slowly growing more and more irritated. “You would think, but no one believed me. Me! The Grand Minimus who is best friends with Rayman! I had to wait thirty minutes in the pouring rain!”

Globox put a hand on his shoulder. “Easy, Minimus. We got the medicine and Betilla knows. Remember how she and the Council are putting in the time to research the sudden surge in Nightmare power?”

Rayman tilted his head, “What? They are?”

“Well, duh. If you got your ass whooped, who knows what’s running around the Glade now? Robots? Mr. Dark? It is the duty of the Fairy Council to protect the inhabitants when Rayman has failed.”

The word ‘failed’, and failure as a whole, was a concept uncommon for Rayman, and a word he hated hearing as a whole. He was built to be a hero. To beat the bad guys. He’s never failed. Heroes can’t fail.

He shot a glare towards the king. “Hey. I didn’t fail, Minimus. I beat the bad guy, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, half-alive! They could never even touch you before. What happened? Who happened? How could you bungle it so badly that you were on Voodoo Mama’s door?” The king wanted a reason. He wanted to know what was roaming around the Glade defeating Thingamajigs; defeating Rayman.

“I don’t know, Minimus, okay?” Rayman hissed back, his voice getting colder. “It happened and it won’t happen again.” He mumbled, gripping the covers of the bed. He blinked faster than normal, pushing away the tears.

The room went quiet, the only thing being heard was the unsteady breathing of the hero and the patter of rain on the window. Globox had a small frown on his face as he looked between his two friends. He placed a hand on the Teensy’s shoulder.

“Come on, GM, he should get some rest.” He offered.

Minimus sighed and turned away, clutching his shoulders. “I’ll see you in the morning, Rayman. Maybe you could handle yourself better with a goodnight’s sleep.” He said softly before leaving.

The Glute followed soon after, giving Rayman a look of pity before shutting off the lights and gently closing the door behind him.

Rayman was left alone in the dimly lit room, his breaths being overshadowed by the downpour. He looked back down at his, now patched, chest and winced. He won’t let it happen again. He’ll prove he can handle himself.

He’ll prove that he’s the hero.

Chapter Text

Red Lums were a common healing tool for both Thingamajigs and Dreams alike. Rayman had a neutral mindset with them. He just used them when it was necessary and that was it. They didn’t need to be protected, like Heart Lums, but they also weren’t abundant, like Yellow Lums. Red Lums were the perfect in between vital and optional.

Until the wrath of the Hoodlums.

Rayman could remember it vividly. The start of their terror and the near destruction of his home, all started by a small ex-Red Lum, caused by his own hands. How could something so small be so lethal? After that mess was cleaned up, Rayman walked out with a different mindset of the little lights. Somewhere between vital and deadly.

The Fairy Council was also doing more to keep the small guys in control as well. They were able to distribute the energy more evenly throughout the Glade, preventing all the power from clumping up like last time. The plan worked really well, with Dreams having more access to healing wherever they were. It was the big thing for the Teensies, Fairies, and even Thingamajigs alike.

So, why was Rayman so against them?

‘Because it’s unfair.’ He told himself as he stomped through the foliage. It was right at the crack of dawn and the sun was just peeking over the horizon. The thick trunks of the trees blocked out some of the light, but a ray would occasionally peek through the gaps and temporarily blind the hero.

As he walked through the woods, his hands were occupied with holding his chest. It was two days after the fight, and Rayman’s body was not pulling its weight. Yes, both Globox and Grand Minimus declared Rayman to stay bed-ridden until the Red Lums could speed up the process, but Rayman was stubborn. He can’t stay in one place and take care of himself. He’s supposed to take care of other Dreams. He also needed to prove a point.

His eyes scanned the forest that seemed to last forever. His mind was racing to formulate the plan he made on impulse. Was he worrying his friends by running off? Maybe. But if Rayman could get this one thing, he could finally prove his worth again.

“Come on…” He mumbled under his heavy breaths; his body was still not fully recovered for steady breathing. “The sooner I get this… the sooner I heal… and the sooner I get back to being Rayman.” He exhaled and leaned on one of the many trunks. He paused and listened carefully, trying to separate the abiotic sounds from the biotic ones. Finally, he heard the sound he needed.

Singing.

With a final huff he pushed himself off the trunk he was leaning on and followed the noise. He needed to find these guys. He needed to find at least one before heading back. The singing grew louder with each shaky step and breath. Moving past some trees in the way, Rayman found a bright clearing brimming with Yellow Lums. It was the common Lum, yes, but maybe they would help him find his goal. He stepped forward out of the shadows, making himself seen.

All the Lums stopped and turned their heads. They all smiled in unison and sang louder. Several, if not all, the yellow balls of light started to swarm and dance and sing around the hero.

”Rayman! Rayman! The hero is here! Let’s sing! Let’s dance! Let’s celebrate! He’s returned!” The Lums sang in harmony, zooming past and around him.

Rayman couldn’t help but smile at their adoration for him. He raised his hands and tried to calm them down, though. “Hey, guys, I know you all love me, but could we keep it down? You’re louder than the Teensies.” He asked, lowering his voice.

On command, all the Lums quieted down, but their bright bodies still danced in his presence. Each one still had a big goofy smile on their face. One of them moved forward, spinning in the air. “Oh, Glade’s Hero, what assistance does thou require? ‘Tis another race thou yearns to win?” The Lum’s grin turned cheeky.

The Thingamajig could not help but flinch slightly at them calling him a hero. ‘Not yet. But, when I do this, I will.’ He shook his head, chuckling slightly. “No, no. Not that. It’s something else."

His hands drifted to his injury, directing attention so the Lums could understand. “I’m in sort of a pickle right now. Are there any Red Lums here, or at least, in the area?”

The beings of light jumped up and down in a synchronized motion. They nodded their heads as the one from before spoke. “Yes! There be Red Lums!” It announced as it waved its hands in a grand motion. The second it did that, two Red Lums emerged from the forest; their eyes were wide with pride as they hovered towards Rayman.

Rayman’s smile quickly faded. That couldn’t possibly be enough to fully heal him. He shook his head and nodded anyway. “Thank you, kind Lum. I appreciate your generous donation. You may now go.”

The Yellow Lums all celebrated in unison and quickly darted back into the depths of the jungle. The hero crouched down in front of the Red Lums. “Hey, champs.” He said to both of them. “Are you two ready to help the greatest hero in the Glade of Dreams?” He felt dirty saying that, but he knew he would be after these additions.

One of the Lums hovered up and down in joy; the other did the same. But Rayman noticed something off about that Lum. It seemed more jittery and jumpy. Could it be– No. He can’t dwindle in fear. He has to get better and go back to protecting the Glade. He shook his head and scooped both of the light bugs in his hands.

“It’s not much, but every Lum counts.” He whispered under his breath. He moved into the center of the small clearing, the part where the sunbeams hit the soft grass. He strategically placed the two Lums in front of him. He reached behind his back to grab the ties of the bandages and took them off. The fabric fell to the ground, revealing his glowing puncture. The sight of it made him wince, but he knew that it would be better after this.

He kneeled on the grass and took a deep breath, his symbol absorbing the sun and soon, the Red Lums. His whole body started glowing as Rayman focused on his wounds, mostly his puncture in his stomach. The Red Lums also started glowing. Bright, red particles emitted from them, and they slowly hovered towards the hero’s wound. When they made contact, Rayman let out a small wince before moving back to his neutral, focused state. His breathing slowed as he absorbed the two Lums. His wound grew a bright red as the Red Lums began fading away into the light particles. The particles majestically swarmed around the Thingamajig, their trails forming a heart before going into his chest. His brows furrowed as he focused harder, the Lums disappearing into his essence.

After the end of the ritual, Rayman opened his eyes. He looked around to see only himself in the clearing. He has successfully absorbed the Red Lums. He sighed and pushed himself up to his feet. His gaze shifted down towards his injury. The puncture, while still glowing, seemed to have dimmed. He smiled to himself, knowing that he jump-started the healing process. Rayman's shaky breaths slowly steadied. He took a deep breath and slightly stretched. His eyes glanced at the area he came in from.

“I’m sure Globox and Minimus are fine. I wasn’t gone for too long.” Rayman brushed aside his and his friends’ concerns and headed back to Globox’s house.

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Rayman slowly creaked open the door, peeking his head in before fully stepping inside. It was quiet, too quiet. The hero scanned the area and found a note on the front door. He took a glance and noticed Uglette’s handwriting.

‘Taking the kids out for lunch. Be back soon!’

The letter was signed off by a ‘U’ and a few hearts, indicating it was for Globox. She didn’t notice he was gone, so Globox most likely didn’t notice–

“Rayman.”

The tone was loud, but not screamy loud, more of a concerned loud. The voice did not sound mad. Well, a bit did, but it felt more like a disappointed parent. Whatever tone it was in, it spooked the person being spoken to.

Rayman jumped at the mention of his name as he swiveled around, his fists ready. Immediately he threw a punch in defense, but that hand was quickly caught by a bigger, stronger, webbed hand. Rayman gulped and gazed upward; his body freezing for a minute. His ‘disappointed parent’ idea was spot on, because in front of him was a peeved Globox. One hand was crossed while the other was holding his fist. He glared down at the Thingamajig. A worried chuckle escaped his lips, his eyes looking past the Glute.

There was a stern silence between the two. Globox’s expression or grip would not soften or harden until Rayman stood his ground, which was something Rayman could admire about the guy. He could hear the soft tapping of his best friend’s feet.

He knew he had to come clean; Globox just saw him sneak back in. He sighed and raised his free hand up in surrender and stuttered an excuse.

“Okay, you caught me. B-but, I had a good reason–”

“For sneaking out?” Globox cut off, his anger quickly shifting into worry. He let go of his hand. “After Minimus and I said you need rest?”

Rayman shifted his weight back and forth, “I did rest-”

“A week, Rayman! You needed to stay and heal for a week! What will Minimus say, what will Betilla think?” The Glute let out a stressed whimper as he paced in front of his friend. “Oh, Rayman, you’re acting like my kids…” He could hear him mumble under his breath.

The Thingamajig waved his hand in dismissal. “Hey, there’s no need to involve Betilla. At least, even more than she already is.” He mumbled the last bit under his breath before shaking his head. “She will be fine, Globox. She knows I can handle myself.”

“Correction, she knows you could handle yourself.” Globox stopped his pacing and crouched in front of the runaway, checking for damages. “What did you even do out there, anyway?”

Rayman pushed his hands away, brushing off his concerns. “GB, I’m fine. I’m back in six pieces, right?” He grinned, trying to brighten up the mood. Sadly, his attempts at his original job did not ease Globox’s worries; it made them worse.

“It is not the time for jokes. What if you encountered a Nightmare? Maybe something even more unpleasant? In the state you’re in, you would’ve been beat worse than a few days ago, buddy!” Globox exclaimed, lifting up Rayman’s hands, cheek, and hoodie to investigate all his injuries. “I caught your hand with ease, and it was a defensive, ‘I-Was-Caught-Off-Guard’ hand!”

The hero scoffed. “Globox, look outside. It’s morning. Nightmares come out later in the day.” He explained as he tried to shoo him away. “Besides, it’s not like I’ll be leaving anytime soon.”

Globox cocked an unamused eyebrow.

He stuttered. “Well, not after I realized how much you would worry. I totally wasn’t planning on going to town or something later…” He muttered, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he swayed back and forth.

“Rayman.”

The Thingamajig raised his hands up. “Hey, hey! I never said I was. Even if, hypothetically, I did to like, I dunno, get some snacks, maybe refresh my bandages, what would even happen? Who else is brave enough to take me on? Raymesis? He can’t even come close.”

The Glute let out an exhausted sigh. “Rayman. I admire your thriving ego after getting your torso handed to you. I really do. But you need to tone it down.” He explained, standing straight up. “Or at least until this whole ‘Nightmare-Strength-Spike’ blows over.”

Rayman stayed quiet. He puffed up his cheeks and looked away, his shoe softly scraping the ground.

“Come on, buddy. If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for me. Please?” Globox slightly smiled. Rayman slowly perked his head up to meet his eyes. After a small silence the hero exhaled and crossed his arms.

He groaned a bit. “Fffffine. I won’t go picking fights with unsuspecting Nightmares.” An idea then formed in his head. “B-but, what if the town gets attacked? Then I have too–”

“Ah, ah. No, Rayman.” Globox wagged his finger at him. “You don’t. I’m going to send Minimus with you. If you really want to go out with permission, then you need a chaperone.”

Rayman’s jaw dropped. “What? A chaperone? How old do you think I am? 14?”

“No, but you’re clearly acting like one. It doesn’t bother GM anyways. He was already planning to go.”

The hero grumbled under his breath and pouted once again. He kicked up some loose dirt on the floorboards. “I don’t need a chaperone…” He said quietly.

Globox exhaled, trying to reason with his friend. “Look, Ray, it’s either you can leave with supervision, or you get your six pieces back to bed. Please don’t make me count to three.” He said the last part as a joke, but he was considering it.

“Ugh. Whatever. I’ll go with Grand Minimus. But if something happens, don’t expect me to sit on the sidelines.” He reluctantly agreed, heading to his room to reapply his bandages for the trip.

“Oh, I know, but tell that to Minimus.” The Glute muttered under his breath. He followed Rayman to the guest room to help him with his wounds.

When they arrived at the guest room, Rayman took a seat on the edge of the bed. Globox came in with a half-full bucket of water and a simple rag. On the bedside were some ointment and bandages, all fused with the healing properties of a Red Lum. The hero placed a knuckle under his chin as he watched his friend grab the supplies. Rayman always disliked this part of his day. To him it was a waste of time and energy. To Globlox and all his friends; however, was vital to his survival and healing process. The Glute was already being generous in letting Rayman leave the comfort of his home, so Rayman wasn’t in the mood to push his generosity.

Globox walked over and gently took Rayman’s hand in his, renewing the bandages. When they were off, he took the rag and the water to gently clean the wound. The room was silent, but it was more of a comfortable silence than tense. Occasionally Globox would look up from his work to see Rayman glancing off. He knew as well as he did that he despised this. He let out a soft chuckle and worked on the Thingamajig’s nose, forcing him to make some sort of small talk.

“You know, being all grumpy about it doesn’t make it any better.” Globox remarked, grabbing some of the wraps and spreading some of the medicine on them.

Rayman scoffed as he blew his hair up from out of his face. “I’m not being grumpy.” He mumbled.

The dad sighed. “Ray, are you upset about having to do this daily, or having to be watched over?”

“Both! This is all so… so redundant! I’m Rayman! The guy who stopped Razorbeard! Mr. Dark! Why do I need to be watched over by a Teensy– Ow!” Rayman bursted out before clutching his open nose, wincing slightly.

Globox frowned at his statement. “Don’t be so dismissive of Minimus. You’ve seen how well he fights.” He stated. He reached over and softly took Rayman’s hands off his nose so he could put the new bandage on.

“Yeah, but why do I even need a ‘squad’?” The hero air-quoted as he rolled his eyes. “What happened to just me and you against the baddies?” He huffed. “Betilla’s just being paranoid again.”

The Glute let out another tired sigh. “She’s not being paranoid, Ray, she’s just being cautious.” He patted his nose, freshly wrapped, and stepped back. “She just wants to keep you and the Glade safe. Give her a chance.”

Rayman let out some inaudible grumbles as he rubbed the soft fabric of the wraps before hopping off the bed. “Yeah. Sure. A chance.” He said before walking off. “I’m going to go meet Tiny in town. No need to worry about me.” He said dismissively, waving his hand at Globox.

He sighed and followed the Limbless to the door. “Alright, but if GM tells me he didn’t see you, you’ll be under house-arrest until the Fairy Council gives the green light.” He playfully scolded, meaning a good amount of it.

Rayman let out a chuckle and opened the door. “Yeah, yeah, I got it. No ditching.”

Globox smiled before sighing. “Also, be a little nicer to Minimus, please? He loves protecting his people as much as you do, you know.” He asked.

The Thingamajig paused before turning back to him with a smile. “Okay. I will. See ya, GB.” He waved and made his way back to town, leaving a hopeful, but concerned, Globox.

Chapter Text

Rayman remembered the way to town. He’s been to it several times. Even if he did forget somehow, there was a dirt path leading from Globox’s home—and many other Teensy homes—to the distant village. Rayman could easily run off into the woods to go searching for some more Red Lums, but he was already on thin ice with both Globox and Grand Minimus. He decided that he’ll just play along until he’s better. Once he’s better, things can go back to normal and he’ll be the hero once again. He just knows it.

The path to civilization was short and quiet. It was about noon from the placement of the sun. Most of the Teensies should be in town doing their daily shopping. Teensies loved to shop, no matter the day or weather. It didn’t matter what it was for, if they had gems, they will spend them. Rayman was a bit more stingy than the average Teensy, but he never had a reason to spend his own gems anyways. Teensies from all around loved giving Rayman gifts and thank yous for his heroism. One of the perks of being him.

Globox had given Rayman some extra pocket change in case Minimus ran out, or if Rayman wanted to spoil himself. Despite this, Rayman felt a lingering sense of anxiety and shame heading to town. He knew that this was his idea and he insisted on going, but now he was starting to regret it. This was the first time he’s been out in public looking like this: All bandaged up and stumbling every other step. It was embarrassing, especially for Rayman.

But he was in too deep now. “The only way out is up” he constantly told himself.

As he stepped out of the shade of the woods, he saw that town of Teensies. It was bigger than others, but not a kingdom. Just a casual village with houses made of wood and other natural items. Many of the Teensies were out and chatting, or shopping, or selling various goods. Everyone went out on their day like any other day.

Rayman looked at his bandaged hands, his healing torso, his wounded nose. This wasn’t Rayman. This was someone else. With a huff of discomfort, he threw on his damaged hood and prayed that he could blend in. Though, despite what he thought, he was still Rayman, and he-–like the rest of his species—are prone to standing out. Ignoring this, he covered his chest with the best of his ability and went to go find his chaperone.

Not even a second in the open, a group of young Teensies approached him, their eyes filled with admiration. After an awkward silence of Rayman just staring at them, one of the blue creatures was pushed up to the front by another.

“E-excuse me, sir.” They stuttered, playing with their cloak sleeves. They seemed to still be in school with their red school uniform. “Are you Rayman? Like, the real Rayman?”

Rayman was confused about why they had to specify. There was only one Rayman. Then, he remembered the increase in Thingamajigs throughout the Glade after seeing his own success. From his memory of his brief meeting with the Nymph sisters—the one he only paid half attention too—they wanted a backup. In case Rayman… needed help. He was against it, but they were persistent. He assumed they must have had a run in with one of the others.

The Thingamajig smiled and reluctantly pulled down his hood. “Yep. That’s… me.” He waved slightly before his hand went back to covering his chest. He could tell that these kids looked up to him, and it tugged at his heart to see them looking up to… this. Both in flattery and pity.

The Teensies collectively gasped, with some whispering amongst themselves and squealing. “Hocus Polokus, it really is you! We’re big fans. Thank you for saving our kind countless times. I bet it must be exhausting.” They laughed nervously, clearly overwhelmed by just being in the presence of the Glade’s Hero.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s no problem. That’s what I’m built to do.” Rayman has had countless interactions with fans and haters alike. He was confused as to why he was so nervous. He shrugged it off, blaming it on his mindset at the time being.

Another thing that confused Rayman slightly was the enthusiasm these Teensies had. He appreciated it, yes, but this was the town near Globox. Surely they’ve seen his best friend shopping here once or twice. Maybe that's why this encounter is so special. Rayman normally spent more of his time at the Snoring Tree, and it’s not everyday that a regular Teensy is able to waltz on in for an autograph.

One of the Teensies in the back peeked their head up. They finally noticed Rayman’s obvious wounds and asked, “What’s with all the bandages?” They gasped and looked at their friends. “Did you get hurt?” They whispered under their breath.

Their question alerted the others and got them asking more questions, but luckily some came to defend his honor. For better or for worse. Rayman could even hear some of them talk about the rumors of his defeat a few days back. He winced and tried to calm the group before more Teensies batted an eye.

“Woah, hey. I didn’t get hurt. I’m fine. See?” He waved his hand around and held back a wince. “It’s just, um, a party. A costume party. And I’m going in as a… zombie chicken.” He specified, forcing a smile so the children could believe it.

The Teensies let out a collective “Woah” before complimenting Rayman’s “costume.” The praises and admiration went through one ear and out the other for the hero. His mind drifted back to the worries of the kids when they found out he was hurt, and the fact that some didn’t believe it.

If that’s their reaction to Rayman getting injured, even a little. Then what would be their—and the rest of the Glade’s—reactions if he–

“Hey! Leave the man alone, why don’t you?” The noticeable voice of Grand Minimus snapped Rayman out of his potential spiral. The king stormed over and shooed the kids away. “The kid’s busy! You can get autographs later.”

As Rayman watched the children scurry away with a few giggles, he placed his hands in his pockets and looked at the Teensy. “No need to scare them away, Mini. They weren’t harming anyone.”

“I know, but they could form a crowd; something we don’t need right now.” Grand Minimus pulled out a list from his pocket. Rayman peeked over his shoulder to see it as well. It looked like a shopping list. “We just need to grab what we need and head back home. Another minute of you out of bed is another minute you’re wasting when you could be healing. And don’t call me ‘Mini.’” He shot a glare at the hero.

Rayman grumbled again at the mention of his health. “Whatever, dad. It’s just nice to be out again.”

Minimus rolled his eyes, keeping his attention on the list. “It was only two days. And you’re going right back to bed after this anyways.”

This time, Rayman groaned audibly. “I’ll be fine. I can walk, run, jump, and be Rayman just fine. You guys are so overdramatic.”

“Sure, I’m the overdramatic one. How about the word ‘cautious?’ Hmm? What about ‘concerned?’” The Teensy snapped back. “Call me names all you want, but who’s going to have the last laugh if you get yourself hurt? Again?”

“I’m not going to get hurt. Nightmares don’t attack towns like this anyways. They’re after the big targets, like kingdoms.” Rayman leaned over and flicked the king’s crown.

Grand Minimus gave him an unamused grumble. “Fine. Be like that. But you heard Globox, I’m in charge.” He pointed at himself before readjusting his crown.

Rayman scoffed. “I know, I know. I’m in no position to go against GB.”

“Of course you’re not. Don’t think I don’t know about that little ‘stunt’ you pulled.” He huffed and gestured to the path to Globox’s house. “Thinking you can just run off with no repercussions.” Without a second glance at Rayman, Minimus walked off, expecting him to follow.

The hero did—reluctantly—kicking a few small rocks as he followed. He paid little to no attention to Minimus, focusing on his surroundings and giving a charming smile or wave to passerby Teensies who stopped and stared. Everytime someone would get a bit too close, Grand Minimus would wave them away.

After the fifth or so Teensy he so rudely scared off, Rayman decided to interfere. “Hey, Tiny. Why are you so grouchy today? Wake up on the wrong side of the tree?” Rayman smirked, enjoying getting a reaction out of his babysitter.

“I am not grouchy, I am stressed. You are in no condition to be out making… public appearances.” His eyes drifted to Rayman wounds, causing the hero to involuntarily cover them with his hands. Rayman was about to oppose before Minimus grabbed his remaining hoodie string, pulling him down to eye level. “There’s already rumors about the Nightmares in the storm.” He whispered, making sure that only Rayman could hear it. “We don’t need to make them worry more with the state you’re in.”

Rayman glared and pulled away, rubbing his wrists in discomfort. As much as he wanted to argue with the king, he had a point. Even Rayman himself was regretting coming out here, but he couldn’t let it show. With a stubborn huff, he backed down. For now.

Grand Minimus gave him a nod of approval and gestured with his hand. “Good. Now, come on. We’re wasting daylight.”

The two traveled through the various stalls and shops of the town. Many Teensies waved to Rayman or gave him a gift as a thanks. No matter what they did, little to none of them paid attention to Minimus until he had to get in their face to shoo them away.

After five or so stalls, Rayman got bored of playing follow-the-leader with the king; his attention on everything but him. He noticed some kids nearby trying to reach a plum in a tree. It was the same group of kids who approached him earlier that day. He glanced at Grand Minimus, who was trying to discuss a deal with a stubborn stall owner, before sneaking off without a word.

“Just gotta help these guys, and I’ll be back before he knows it.” Rayman planned, making his way over to the group of small Teensies.

One of the creatures tried climbing the tree before slipping and falling on their back. They looked up and saw Rayman looking over them. The Teensy gasped and all the others followed.

“Rayman!” They all shouted in unison.

Rayman smiled and helped the fallen kid up. “Hey, guys. What’s going on here?”

The Teensy pointed up. “We lost our plum for our game. None of us can reach it.” The school uniform they wore had a star on it, indicating that she was a girl. She sighed and lowered her head. The others followed, all sighing as well.

Another Teensy poked their head up. This one had a circle on their uniform. “Yeah. And that was my lunch.” He exhaled sadly.

“Oh, we can’t have that can we…” The hero muttered before looking up as well. He examined the tree, trying to figure out the best way to climb it.

The kids around him muttered and whispered, most of them talking about Rayman and him offering his own assistance. They weren’t as hyper, but he assumed it was because they ran into him before.

After a bit of thinking, Rayman stepped back and looked at the small crowd. “You kids want to see something cool?”

They all smiled and nodded eagerly. “Yeah!” They moved out of the way, providing easy access to the tree.

Rayman looked up at the closest branch to the ground, which was still pretty high up. He hasn’t been able to stretch his limbs this far since the battle, but he couldn’t let these guys down. He took a deep breath and ran. He jumped on one of the exposed roots and propelled himself up. He reached as far as he could and just barely made the branch. Rayman winced as he attempted to pull himself up. Below him he heard the cheers of the Teensies. He had to make it now. With a grunt of effort, the hero climbed the tree, his sneakers occasionally slipping off the bark. Every time it did, the children would gasp before going back to cheering.

Eventually, Rayman made it to the branch the plum was at. It wasn’t big, not the ones he was used to, but it wasn’t small either. An average sized plum the size of a bigger rock. He was panting and his body ached, especially his torso. He seemed to have lost a good amount of his core muscles from the fight. He shook it off and grabbed the plum. He glanced down at the Teensies, who were jumping up and down. It warmed his heart, but also filled him with a sense of duty. He stood up, plum in his hands, and dropped it down.

The fruit landed with a soft thunk, causing the kids to “ooh” and “ahh” in amusement. Rayman glided down and smiled. Once he landed, the Teensies stormed him with praise.

“That was so cool!” One said. “Do it again!” Said another. “I can’t believe Rayman saved my lunch!”

The Thingamajig chuckled and raised his hands. “Okay. Okay, I’m blushing. It was no big deal.”

They settled down and one of them stepped forward. It was the girl from earlier. “Um, Mr. Rayman, we’re also sorry for bothering you earlier.” The others nodded.

“Bothering me? You guys never did such a thing.” Rayman tilted his head.

“But, why did Mr. King-man yell at us?” Another asked.

Rayman waved his hand in dismissal. “Shrimp? That old stick in the mud? He was just grumpy today. Don’t think too hard about it.” He crouched down and patted the Teensy on the head. “Believe me, when I go back I bet he totally forgot about it–”

“Rayman!!”

“Ugh. Speak of Jano.”

Rayman sighed and turned around to see Grand Minimus storming over. He looked upset, which Rayman could guess. He did run off without telling anyone again. The kids around him whimpered and all crowded behind the hero. He glanced at them before turning back to the king. He also noticed that the basket Minimus was carrying was full with various products.

“Hey, Minimus! Seems your bargaining worked.” Rayman put on a smile and opened his arms to cover up his blatant disobedience.

Grand Minimus wasn’t having any of it though. “Cut the crap, Rayman. You ran off. Again! After we told you not to.” He jabbed above Rayman’s chest with his finger, making sure not to touch the bandages.

Rayman still winced from the contact, but he pushed it down. “I didn’t run off. I was helping Teensies, just like Globox asked.” He crossed his arms.

“No, Globox asked you to help me.” Minimus corrected, but Rayman had a trick up his nonexistent sleeves.

“And what are you? A Teensy. Case closed.” He grinned slyly and stood up proud. The children behind him nodded in agreement.

“Yeah! He has a point.” One of them blurted out.

Rayman gestured to the Teensies around him. “See? Seven against one.”

The king growled and stomped his foot. “Ugh, Rayman! This is no time for loopholes. I– We asked you for one thing. And you can’t even do that!”

“Well, the thing you asked me to do doesn’t benefit the Glade as a whole, this does.” He stuck his nose in the Teensy’s face, scowling slightly.

“No, it doesn’t! No one was in danger! It’s a hocus Polokus plum for crying out loud.” Minimus’ gestures got more grand, like he was trying to make himself bigger than he actually was.

“But his lunch–”

“But you, Rayman. You. The only one in danger is you.”

Rayman's eyes widened slightly at Minimus’ statement. He moved back slightly as the Teensies around him watched in confusion and a hint of fear. As quickly as it came, Rayman’s brows furrowed as he inhaled to defend his ground.

CRASHHH!!!

He wasn’t allowed to start because of a distant commotion, like the sound of a house crumbling down. The fighting between the two momentarily stopped as everyone stared at where the noise came from. Suddenly, a group of Teensies came running, their hands in the air.

“Help! Help!” They cried before running up to Rayman. “We’re being attacked! Save us, Rayman!”

Rayman looked at the townsfolk, and then the students. His worried expression turned into determination as he ran towards the action. Grand Minimus called out to him, but he didn’t listen. This was his chance to prove Minimus wrong. That he can be a hero like he was built to be.

The king saw him run off and he groaned in frustration. He turned to the rest of the Teensies. “Stay here. I’ll handle this.” They nodded and Minimus ran off to chase the brash hero down.

---------------------------------------------

“Rayman! What are you doing?”

“Calm down, Tiny! I got this.”

Grand Minimus stopped a bit before Rayman and gathered the situation. In the east side of town, a small horde of Nightmares started to attack. The townsfolk ran for their life, trying their best to not get smushed or eaten by the creatures of darkness. When they weren’t terrorizing Teensies, they were destroying the houses, causing a mess everywhere they went.

Rayman tilted his head and looked up at the sun placement. “That’s weird. It’s too early for Nightmares.” He stated, placing a hand to his chin.

“Early or not, they’re still attacking!” Minimus snapped his fingers in front of the hero. “We need a plan. And quick.” He stepped forward and gestured to Rayman. “You help evacuate the Teensies; I’ll deal with the Nightmares until Globox shows up.”

“What? Isn’t that your job?” Rayman looked back at the rampaging critters.

“There are no ‘jobs,’ Rayman! We need too–”

“Cool. You handle the Teensies then. Good luck!” The hero flashed a grin and sprinted off into battle, completely ignoring the king’s concerns.

Grand Minimus yelled at the Thingamajig, but his cries fell on deaf ears. The other Teensies from before approached him. Minimus turned his head and groaned. “You guys too? I thought I told you to stay back there. Why is no one listening to me?” He clutched his head in frustration.

One of the Teensy children stepped forward. “We want to see Rayman in action. Like, actually beating the bad guys. Like in the stories!” The rest nodded in agreement.

“But his– He shouldn’t–” Minimus snarled and stomped his foot before running towards Rayman once again. “Why am I always stuck playing babysitter?”

He turned a corner to see Rayman brawling two of the Nightmares. Some of his bandages were ripped off, from either him or the Nightmares, Minimus couldn’t tell. What he could tell was that Rayman was losing, or at least couldn’t take two at once. He was throwing punches, but missed over half of them. He kept slipping on the debris of wood and straw, resulting in him stumbling every other punch. It hurt Minimus to see him fighting in this state. With a huff of disapproval, the Teensy charged in to assist the hero.

Rayman lunged at one of the Nightmares—this one being a Livingstone—but it swiftly moved out of the way. He crashed into the ground and coughed, holding his chest. The Livingstone laughed in response.

“Is this the hero of the Glade? You were stronger when you were younger.” It laughed again as the other Nightmare joined in.

The hero scowled and rolled back onto his feet. “Oh, please. I'm just getting started.” He told his enemies, though it was a bit of him reassuring himself.

His comment only amused the Livingstones further. “This is just your start? You look like you just had twenty fights before this!” It spun the staff it held, preparing to strike the hero.

Just as it was about to wack Rayman square on the head, it was pushed back by a blow of blue magic. The Livingstone tumbled onto the ground as the other one also got the same treatment, resulting in the two Nightmares crashing into each other.

Grand Minimus ran over and pulled up Rayman, panting and glaring at the hero. “What was that for?!” He asked, charging up his magic once again.

The Thingamajig grunted and shook it off. “Nothing. I can handle this.” He raised up his fists, ready to fight the Livingstones once more.

“No, you can’t, Rayman! Can’t you see? Look at you!” The king exclaimed, pushing back the Nightmares once more. He ran forward and casted a spell, knocking them both into the ground.

“It’s only two. We can take them both on. I’m sure–”

GROAHWWWW!

The two turned around and saw a small swarm of Psyclopses. Minimus wasn’t phased, but Rayman went wide-eyed. He stumbled back and clutched his stomach.

“Only two?” Grand Minimus remarked, side eyeing Rayman.

Rayman ignored him, only focusing on the five or so Nightmares in front of him. He whimpered softly, his mind flashing back to the woods, the storm. He heard distant cheering and looked over his shoulder. He saw the group of kids and some townsfolk. They were further away, but they were clearly rooting for Rayman’s success.

He couldn’t let them down, even if it killed him.

The Thingamajig was about to run head on like before, but his hoodie was snatched. He grunted as he saw Minimus holding him back. “Rayman! Back down for once!” He scolded, using all his might to hold the hero back.

Normally, Rayman would have easily broken from the Teensy’s grip, but this time something else was holding him back. It could have been his weaker state, or maybe it was something internal. Something like…

Fear.

Rayman hated that word, that feeling, that concept of fear, especially for someone like him. The last time he felt genuine fear was when the Heart of the World was destroyed under Razorbeard’s rule, and that resulted in the capture of him and the Glade. He—Rayman—was scared of losing his home, his people, and in return, made others feel fear with him. He vowed to never feel fear again, let alone let the others know he felt it. To him, it was best for them to stay believing, stay hopeful, stay… ignorant.

The hero scowled at the small king holding him in place. “Let go, Teensy! Are you trying to get yourself killed?” He yelled, prying at the tiny hands pulling his robe.

“Me? Are you trying to die?” Minimus responded, tugging harder. “You can’t take a whole hoard on! Not like this.”

“I can take them on just fine! You’re just being paranoid.” Rayman tried to ignore his chaperone’s pleas, readying himself for a showdown.

“Listen to me for once in your life! You can’t, Rayman. You cannot!” Grand Minimus yelled, snapping the Thingamajig out of his thoughts. “You’re not cut out for this. You are not the hero.”

Those five words, straight out of Minimus’—A Teensy’s—mouth. Everything Rayman tried to ignore, to hide, right there out of the creature looking after him. He could not believe it, but he did anyway.

And just like that, his defiance and determination started to crumble.

Rayman stumbled back and stared at the Teensy, wide-eyed and full of hidden fear. “What… you’re joking, right?”

“No, I’m not joking! Did you not hear me? You’re not going to save the day. Not today, not anytime soon.” Grand Minimus finally was able to yank Rayman away from the battle. “If you’re gonna to tune every single word I tell you, at least let this get through your thick skull.” He scowled.

Rayman did not say anything back. No remark, no quip, not even a statement of acceptance. He just stood there, his eyes wide. His blue pupils swiftly moved from the Teensy to the Nightmares approaching him. Maybe, maybe Minimus was right.

Maybe he’s not the hero.

Grand Minimus took his silence as him backing down. Swiftly, he shoved Rayman to the side and approached the enemies, preparing his magic.

The Thingamajig watched as the king charged into battle. He watched as the other teensies cheered him on. He watched as the Nightmares slowly were fought off by the small, yet determined, creature.

Suddenly, Rayman felt something after a few minutes of stunned confusion. It started out as being aware he was breathing, though heavy. He tried to at least focus on the one thing he still had control over, but even that slipped out of his grasp. The air became thicker, harder to take in. Eventually, he needed more strength to take in chunks of breathable air, with it slowly, but surely, becoming a chore.

His view started to blur, barely focusing on Grand Minimus saving the town, saving him. He became dizzy and his body attempted to stabilize himself. He stumbled back, his hands doing little to nothing to keep him steady because of the unexpected weights of it. His torso burned with an unexpected pain, a pain that seemed to spread from inside out.

Then, he slipped. He could feel himself falling. Where? He wasn’t able to figure it out. He must have ran into a rock or stump, because before he knew it, he lost all vision, all feelings…

All control.