Archive of Our Own ^beta

Am I loud and clear, or am I breaking up?

Am I still your charm, or am I just bad luck?

Are we getting closer, or are we just getting more lost?

Falling to the sandy ground outside the portal he had just been tossed through, the anarchist was severely confused and malnourished after his moons of isolation as a consequence of not following through with what his boss requested. His muscles shake as he tries to stand, failing and settling down into a sitting position as the portal closes behind him, his entire body aching after its prolonged ordeal.

Blinking tears away from his blurry hazel eyes, he tries to figure out where he is once he is left alone. Looking around where he had been thrown he recognises the sandstone walls of their new spawn area, wondering if he has the strength to make his way to within the shelter as he gathers his will to stand up, or at least crawl away from the burning hot sun.

Fit had spent at least a few moons at the bottom of that pit, Madagio attempting to teach him a lesson about attachments and wronging them until they had a sudden change of heart. He has no idea what prompted it, still reeling from his boss reappearing to simply put him back on Quesadilla Island. No word on if they will ever speak again but Fit had the distinct impression they wouldn’t, mentioning nothing about another contract before they departed back to another world far away.

Leaving their previous employee to his other employer’s mercy apparently, Fit is already wincing as he sees Cucurucho exit the building ahead of where he collapsed. He still wasn’t positive this was real, he could very well be dreaming. During his time in that chasm he had many episodes of losing touch with the reality around him, the only indication this was real was his senses were alive with the scent of the fresh flowers lining the path and the grainy sand beneath his palms as he attempts to struggle once more to his feet before deciding to face his fate with his head held high, sitting on the ground.

“Hello boss, long time no see?” Fit attempts to joke, breaking off into a cough as he gets used to speaking again, his throat rough from the smoggy atmosphere he just left.

“Where have you been?” Instead of their usual catch phrase, Fit’s heart immediately sinks hearing the accusatory tone within the bear hybrid’s voice. The lower half of their face was hidden behind a mask with voids of darkness where eyes should rest above, Fit nervously swallows while thinking of a response.

“I was kidnapped but, hey, I made it back!” Fit knew if he answered honestly it would lead to a thousand more questions and despite how Madagio mistreated the anarchist, he couldn’t find it in himself to betray them as that would eventually lead to the reason he arrived upon this island and perhaps invoke their wrath. “You gotta give me a few days to get back on my feet but after that, I am ready for my tasks per our old agreement. Of course…if I am still employed that is—”

“Grab him.” Cucurucho speaks to the two Federation workers at their side as Fit was trying to remember how long it was since he had seen these guys when their words register.

“Hey—wait, OW!” Fit growls as he is yanked to his feet in a harsh motion, his muscles screaming as they shake, unable to take his weight he leans heavily into the workers. “Watch my leg… fuck that hurts.”

Without sympathy, they drag him along as Cucurucho turns and starts to make their way back to the gold-gilded building, arriving at the elevator. Fit is groaning and cursing each time they jostle him around. Instead of trying to escape he bides his time attempting to reserve his energy between the jolts of agony as his body reminds him how injured he is after that long time alone and barely surviving on rotting meat from the corpses that were his only company.

Hissing as they begin their ascent, he glares down at his boss, no longer caring how hostile he appeared with the treatment he was receiving. Though Fit hoped one day he would return to this island this was not the greeting he had accounted for, logically he knew why this is the route Cucurucho chose. As members of this island they were explicitly told there was no way to escape and yet somehow Fit managed, though not by choice, for several weeks at least. He had no idea which moon it was but he knew at least some time had passed, he lost track of the cycles at the bottom of that chasm and could only guess at best.

Leading him to the pristine white office Cucurucho occupied, they gesture to their workers to toss Fit into a plain sturdy chair nearby before binding his legs so he could no longer get up. His artificial arm had run out of power leaving it limp and he barely had any strength to move his other yet they still tied it down, at their mercy for the moment the pair of workers stepped back.

“Get him food and water then leave us.” Their orders were concise, the faceless workers at their beck and call hurrying to do so before they disappeared outside, slamming the doors closed behind them.

Cucurucho spends a few moments staring at something on their desk before bringing over their own place to sit, placing it down near the food and settling in. Fit shivers at the intensity of the expression ahead of him, their bone white hair perfectly woven back into a long braid between their shoulder blades leaving their harsh face uncovered, fuzzy cloud white ears near the crown of their head poking out. A crisp suit with a black tie was all they wore, reaching up to undo the black satin fastened around their neck as they gathered their thoughts with manicured nails deftly tugging it loose without a word as their considerations turned frightening.

Fit’s stomach growled at the food beside Cucurucho on an end table nearby, a simple sandwich and glass of water stood alone on the tray, but to the starving anarchist it was a decadent feast. Desperately holding back how weak he felt, the muscular man shifts in discomfort as his leg reminds him how damaged he remained after his involuntary vacation. Doubting he could even stand on his own right now he can only hope to mislead the ruthless hybrid before him until he finds a way to evade their clutches and regain his strength properly.

“Where have you been, Fit?” Polite enough and a barely disguised threat, the bald man winces hearing that rage and malice that coated their every word in burning hot inflections that promised agonizing torture.

“Away?” A weak answer at best, Fit knows Cucurucho isn’t afraid of spilling blood in their efforts to control those they were in charge of and prepares to feel his wrath.

Leaning forward their hands morph, bringing forth their ursine characteristics in thick black needle-sharp claws at the ends of their fingers, they sink them into the bloody denim of Fit’s left knee where once of his worst wounds lay where a part of his shattered bone had burst through and Fit is unable to choke back the scream that erupts from his cracked lips as his stomach rolls.

“Where?” Their growls echo through the clean office above Fit’s wails, uncaring of the crimson dripping down their paws to the pristine marble floor below from the painful grip they locked around the wound. “Was it Purgatory again? How did you escape Quesadilla Island?”

“No, not Purgatory , I promise you do not want to know where I was, it will only bring chaos to your peaceful shores.” Fit can only beg between his pants, finally able to slow his breathing as Cucurucho’s claws slowly release while they consider what he said. “You can tell by my condition that it was not a pleasant place to be, don’t provoke them.”

In a moment of weakness he spills more context than he intended to give, Cucurucho’s eyes narrowing as they lock in on that phrasing flexing their hands that still showed their lineage in a silent indication they could continue their torment. Leaning forward Fit cannot avoid the line they draw up his throat with those claws that could easily kill him, leaving it resting just beneath his chin in a silent vow of more agony in his future.

“Explain.”

“I won’t, I’ve already said too much. Cucurucho I swear you do not want to bring that evil here if I tell you who they are. That is not a door you want to open, I swear upon my very soul.”

Leaving him sitting up painfully straight as they think about it, Fit’s relief is short lived as they remove their claw from beneath his chin to just above his dull hazel eye that had already suffered major damage after Madagio pushed him into that pit he was sure he was going to perish in.

“You think that scares me? I have been charged with controlling this world and you somehow managed to break free, you will tell me how Fit. I will not rest and neither will you until you finally give me an answer I like.”

Reaching forward until their claw rests upon his left eye socket, Fit’s shrieks echo ever louder as they tear through his delicate flesh to continue their torment of the grizzled anarchist who was pleading for a new kind of mercy, one that allowed eternal rest away from this current situation while desperately trying not to reveal the secrets they wished to spill. Using his body as a canvas long into the night, Cucurucho carved open new wounds searching for the knowledge Fit withheld, becoming a masterpiece of suffering set to a symphony of screams and pleading for it all to stop as the full moon rose overhead.

Unbeknownst to their boss, one of the Federation workers managed to give a message to one of the dragon hatchling children they assigned the parents of this island, praying to whoever above they did the right thing as the child wearing a cow hat covering wild chestnut curls races off to tell their Pai the news they learned. This guilty employee couldn’t stand Cucurucho but was terrified to ever leave their service, instead allowing themself tiny rebellions then returning to their partner after a supposed break from the screams they stood guarding. Their heart shook with every word that was dragged from the anarchist’s mouth, hoping that they did the right thing informing his mourning family they needed to come save him as they prepared for a long terrible night of listening to the depths their boss was willing to go to find the answers they desired. 

I'll show you mine if you show me yours first

Let's compare scars, I'll tell you whose is worse

Let's unwrite these pages and replace them with our own words

Bursting through Pac’s front door, Richarylson finds the secret ladder to go downstairs and rushes to where his father lay slumbering. A rare occurrence these days, as the sunrises passed with no signs of Fit’s return Pac’s depression grew tenfold and most were convinced if not for the children he would have given in long ago and went back to Cucurucho for relief from his sorrows masked as tiny white pills. His sleep had been filled with dreams of the love he lost and as a result Pac had barely rested recently, leading to heavy bags beneath his deep brown eyes as he stumbled through this reality until exhaustion claimed him in random intervals.

The moment Fit’s absence was noted Pac told everyone a doctored version of the tale his boyfriend left him with, explaining that Fit’s past had summoned him back but once he completed what was required he promised Pac and Ramón that he would return. Refusing to give any further details like the fact Fit was technically sent as a spy and had been charged with handing over player data about his fellow islanders, he kept close to himself and only left his home for dungeons or when it was his turn to care for Richas and Ramón.

His child launches himself onto his Pai where he lay across the mattress meant for two, Pac groans as he slowly awakens to his child’s excited expression. “Richas? It’s not our time together yet…aren’t you supposed to be with Cellbit and Roier?”

“I know where Pa is.” Richas quickly writes in his notebook, showing Pac who is attempting to blink the sleepiness from his gaze, slow to register what is being told to him.

“At his castle, y’know, where you should be.” Pac groans as he sits upright, wondering why Richas rolls his eyes with a sassy sigh before writing below what he said earlier.

“I know where your boyfriend is.”

“What?” Pac asks in sheer disbelief, having spent months trying to find any clue of the man and now Richas claims to know that knowledge he was in shock. “Gremlin child, this better not be a lie or I will be very upset. How? Why? Who told you you?

Having to take a deep breath when Richas mimics doing so, he finishes his ramble with. “Where is he?”

“Cucurucho has him imprisoned at spawn according to my source. He appeared yesterday but the Federation hid that from everyone, wanting to get answers out of him first.”

Pac is debating how much he wants to push for more information about the source Richas claims to know but ultimately decides to leave it alone for now, checking his artificial leg is ready for him to stand up before he does so.

“We need to rescue him, but we could also use backup if we have to break him out of the Federation office.” Saying aloud the choice his son knew his father would make, Richas is frequently nodding before he rushes around the room gathering an outfit for Pac to put on. Following his child’s exuberance he quickly changes before even remembering to check what time it is, wondering who the hell would even be awake slightly before dawn.

Sending a quick message to one of his friend’s who would drop anything to help them both, he quickly prepares breakfast for both him and his son before his communicator dinged with a response which he reads as he downs his coffee.

“Thank the Goddess, Phil is up and said we can come over. Are you ready?” He addresses Richas who is already bundled up in winter gear to protect him from the cold season that had swept across the island, Pac follows suit before they both make their way to the waystone in his garden.

Appearing in a cloud of vibrant purple particles in the snow covered fields of Phil’s home, he makes his way up the steps after his son who embraces Phil’s legs with a shriek before rushing indoors. Pac notices Phil’s wince at the volume and quickly apologises, Phil waving it off.

“Good morning Pac and Richas, it’s okay, they get a pass for being a kid.” Phil ruffles Richas’s hair as they step inside, Pac’s son making their way to where Chay stands making his own family breakfast and offers to help prepare the meal. “It’s good to see you up and about Pac, getting out is important for your wellbeing.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Pac knows the ancient warrior is right and his weeks alone left his mental space in a rough state but he was willing to face that reality because he needed the crow’s help. “You make a good point, I intend to change that starting now. Richas pounced on me earlier with the most interesting news, would you like to tell your Tio or shall I?”

Richas waves for Pac to do it, helping roll out the dough for fresh pastry at Chay’s fond direction. Though Phil’s oldest shouldered the burden of being a leader to his fellow dragon hatchlings he was also the most patient with them all, willing to spend any time he could helping them improve any skill they wished and was a fantastic chef himself.

“Fit’s back, and Cucurucho has him prisoner.” Pac announces, everyone’s attention turning to him as Lullah and Missa join them downstairs with yawns that change to a shocked expression. “I need your help breaking him free, or at least some direction on how I should do so. Also I figured you would want to know, he’s one of your closest allies too.”

“You and your entire family are under my protection Pac, of course you can rely on me and by extension my own.” Phil vows to his longtime friend’s partner, his normally joyfully tone steady and serious, a flash of aeons hiding behind those blue gray eyes similar to the sky they were beneath. “How do you know this, Richas?”

Staring down Pac’s child, he writes an evasive response on the sign before him. “Tio Phil, if I reveal my source they may never trust me again. They’ve never lied to me and have given me various tidbits of information before, though this is the first time they have told me something as forbidden as this. They knew I’d tell Pac and gave their blessing to me passing it along.”

“Are we sure this isn’t a trap?” Phil’s strong sense of paranoia was a major reason he had survived so long, though it frustrated Pac he also respected it.

“Then we gather together our strongest allies and figure out a plan before we rush in, but from the things I’ve heard that won’t be necessary. This source has never provided him false information, not from what he has told me. I don’t think they would lie about this, though the face of the Federation is questionable there are some compassionate souls amongst their ranks who hide their kindness from the cruelty of Cucurucho.” Pac makes his case after taking multiple breaths to calm his rationale, his chest grows warm as Phil gives a nod of approval.

“Who were you thinking of recruiting to help?”

This was the tricky part. Technically Pac was sworn to secrecy by the Rebellion to tell anyone of their existence but after Phil successfully fought off the past that possessed him there had been a strong push to bring him into their ranks. They were still waiting on the approval from the higher ups, but Pac was impulsive and knew the organisation might overlook it if they were able to save one of their strongest participants. He still decided against revealing the organization’s existence for now but he could suggest his allies from that group.

“Etoiles and Bagi are on top of the list for me, perhaps Cellbit because we could use his intelligence and knowledge of the Federation after his infiltration back at our original spawn. Etoiles obviously for his fighting prowess and I trust Bagi with my life, I know she would immediately offer to help once we tell her.”

“Small but well rounded, I think they are good picks. I can provide backup to Etoiles if things get out of control. What resources do we have?”

Pac pauses to ponder about the first thing that came to his mind, knowing this might be a risk but they needed all the advantages they could get. “I did bring my darkness armour.”

Phil raises a blonde eyebrow, hesitance drawing his features into one of concern. “I thought you stopped using that set because it had some…unwelcome influences…”

His voice stumbles in the middle of his inquiry, one of his fingers unconsciously reaching back to brush against one of the vibrant scars that coated Phil’s once beautiful crow wings, now wrought with bald patches between iridescent feathers. That event was now a few months ago but Pac vividly remembered the terror watching this immortal warrior lose himself to greed and begin to terrify those close to him. Fit had been nearly frantic, wondering if Phil’s many years of history had finally caught up with him and the crow had begun to go mad. The brunette was one of the few people who knew about Phil’s protection from age blessed by a Goddess, Fit was also one She saved from time and they chose to tell him the moment Fit and Pac announced the fact they were in a relationship. Watching such a powerful being become unrecognisable Fit had revealed though it was rare, thousands of years could warp your mind into a madness infused husk of your former self and the only relief they could provide would be to end the threat.

Fit was forced to answer to his boss at the contract’s deadline leaving Pac with the specific instructions of getting Ramón and the rest of his family far the hell away from the crow if he didn’t gain control soon. Luckily for everyone Phil was victorious, leaving him a bit more haunted but firmly back to his protective and wise self, providing counsel and help to all who requested it.

“I know the risks, but I need to bring everything powerful I can to the table and I have to admit, the armour has its advantages. Knowing Fit lies at the end of this attempt is enough conviction for me to remind myself to stay present the moment I put it on.”

“Be careful.” Is all Phil warns, smiling as Missa comes to rub a sore spot between his wings once he notices the crow’s discomfort, the affection traded between the platonic partners makes Pac’s heart ache missing his boyfriend. “Sit down, have breakfast then we can send messages to everyone.”

“Ah I appreciate it but I made something for us both before we arrived. It will all work out though because Richas and myself can walk over and tell Cellbit and Bagi ourselves while you eat if you want to ask Etoiles afterwards?”

Phil agrees, waving them out the door as Chay begins to serve his family breakfast with Lullah’s help. Pac thought it was very sweet how Phil’s children became a bit bouncier since learning their Tio was within reach, his anarchist boyfriend had found a home in all their hearts no matter how intimidating he could be to a stranger. Covered in scars and somewhat jaded due to archiving thousands of lives well beyond their demise his character took some getting used to, at first Pac shared those sentiments until he learned what a sweet soul hid behind years of torment.

Revealing the fact Fit lived went along similar lines as the conversation he had with Phil during his talks with Cellbit then Bagi. At first they questioned the legitimacy of the information before Richas won them over, both deciding they would do anything for the man who had saved their lives. Fit’s influence could be found in every historical event that happened here since they arrived upon this island, he left his marks everywhere and had won the loyalty of more than a few people in his travels.

Pac felt their courage bolster his own watching them prepare for what was to come, strapping weapons to themselves before they all meet at Phil’s when the sun was about a quarter of a way through it’s path over the day.

Deciding to take advantage of the clear weather, they make their children promise to stay with Missa and the rest of the Mom village where they would be protected, Tina agreeing immediately the moment Bagi texts her to ask. Ramón was safe with Tubbo at the Town of Fobo, something Pac decided was best as he texted one of his best friends to keep their son within his sight while they performed this mission. He knew Ramón might be angry for not being allowed to come but Pac didn’t want to risk anything happening to his sweet baby, feeling much better knowing he’s safe than in active danger and that he can apologise by hopefully reuniting their son and his father.

Etoiles arrives shortly after Pac, Cellbit and Bagi do, it takes minimal convincing before the skilled warrior is in on the plan. Fit had earned Etoiles respect, an honour that didn’t come lightly, which meant his blade would happily be raised in the anarchist’s defense.

They spend a few hours going over every detail that could help them including roping Badboyhalo into their schemes, a mix between Ordo Theoritas and the Rebellion stood around Phil's table and made a commitment to saving their loved companion. Bad offered to protect the Mom Village for the day, having a mixed history with Cucurucho meant the best use of his abilities were with their children and other more vulnerable members. Everyone was strong in their own way on Quesadilla, you had to have some type of fortitude to remain sane upon these chaotic lands, but some didn’t hold a warrior’s spirit instead one of endless comfort and empathy, another type of safety.

Tubbo would bring those he was nearby to the Village at around noon, a more central location for their loved ones who would become hostages if they fell into the wrong hands. Foolish was another strong ally on the battlefield and though he bickered with Bad nearly constantly, they were a deadly pair when fighting for theirs and others lives together.

Pac felt the flicker of hope deep within his ribcage grow stronger watching each piece of their plot fall into place, precisely at noon standing with Phil, Etoiles, Cellbit and Bagi at the waystone waiting for their signal to proceed.

The brunette decides at that moment to clear his throat, looking to each of the people at his side and says. “Thank you all for choosing to trust me and helping me save Fit, I will never forget this gift you have given us.”

“Your friendship is reward enough, young one.” Phil states, giving a wild grin. “Now, let's go remind our government to not harm one of our own.”

We live on front porches and swing life away

We get by just fine here on minimum wage

If love is a labor I'll slave till the end

I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand

Gasping out pained breaths, Fit attempts to blink his gaze open after passing out, a small relief from the agony Cucurucho had wrought onto his already injured body.

Lacerations and burns coated his flesh between the infected wounds left untreated from his time in the corpse cave, all as a result of refusing to reveal Madagio and their schemes. If his life was worth anything it was keeping his boss far away from Cucurcuho, the war that would reign down upon this island if the Federation provoked Madagio would be devastating.

Especially with their children here, his poor Ramón had already been through hell, so had all the other kids. If he could prevent further conflict he would, taking it all to his grave without a complaint yet with some regrets. To be honest, his death was a long time overdue, the Goddess saving his flesh from the ravages of time but he could still be struck down by a mortal wound. Which he currently felt like he was suffering from several of them, dizzy with blood loss and nearly crazed with the suffering Cucurucho had put him through.

He had no idea why he was even still alive, the mercy of death felt eons away as Fit wondered what the hell was next. Rapidly blinking before realising he could no longer see out of his left eye, his panic reached an all time high feeling something sticky and warm leaking down his cheek. 

“My my Fit, you have impressed me with your persistence, but you still haven't given me what I want.” Cucurucho’s voice is soft and threatening, Fit could practically feel the malice marked across their sharp teeth beneath the smiling scarf they wore across the lower half of their face. “Where. Did. You. Go.”

Slinking closer, the bear hybrid freezes as alarms begin to ring, sounding like they are centering from the commotion that erupted outside Cucurucho's office. Recognising the loud swearing and taunting anywhere, a true smile breaks across Fit's face for the first time in many long hours.

“Wonder who that could be?” He muses, watching Cucurucho think of a thousand ideas before locating their gun, coldness rushing down his limbs as the moment the office doors swing open the bear levels the chilly barrel against Fit's forehead.

“Not another step.” Fit can only pray silently this isn't the last time he sees his love and his family as they pause at the threshold.

“Fitchi—” Pac's gentle whisper is something Fit latches onto in his terror, watching Phil's gaze change to one of rage matching Etoiles where he stood at the crow's side, the crow gripping his impressive glimmering scythe at the ready.

“Let him go, you bastard, or else you won't survive leaving this office because I will kill you. I've slain armies and finished gods, I can end a pretender.” Goddess Fit was glad Phil was part of the rescue party, watching Cucurucho's expression momentarily show true fear made Fit remember why in lands long ago the crow was labelled the Angel of Death. “You wield a pathetic attempt at authority over beings that you barely know a fraction of knowledge about, I can swear to you your heart will stop the moment Fit's does.”

Sliding his enchanted bow from the sling upon his back, Pac steels himself with Phil's resolve and stands with his arrow pointing at the white-haired bear threatening his love. Wearing armour made of shadows with his starry eyes surrounded by rose red markings, Fit couldn’t help but admire how beautiful Pac was when defending something he was willing to fight for. “That is if he gets the chance to kill you, the moment you pull that trigger your life will be forfeit and I will release this arrow.”

Cucurucho’s gaze darts about as Etoiles gives a feral smile, Bagi and Cellbit joining him with a machete and oversized frying pan that was a surprisingly useful weapon.

“My patience is running thin, pretender.” That title in particular seems to get under Cucurucho's skin, after several heartbeats they holster their gun and step back.

“Take him and go. But I won't forget this.”

“Neither will we.” Pac sneers back, Fit overwhelmingly proud watching his boyfriend's determination win against the seemingly in control Federation as Cucurucho takes another pace further from the brunette, struggling to hide how cornered they were right now.

Etoiles and Cellbit guard the rest as Pac rushes to Fit where he is hunched over in the chair, not caring about the blood and grime by embracing his once lost partner with a loud sob. Mumbling to Fit in desperate Portuguese Phil works quickly to undo the veteran's restraints before the crow and Bagi locate their medical supplies.

“Oh my love, what did that fucker do to you?” Pac leans back to look him over, carefully cradling both side's of Fit's jaw. “I am going to skin them alive and feed them to the sharks in the sea!”

The anarchist surprises them all by chuckling, attempting to wink and groaning as his face aches before he weakly replies. “You are so fucking attractive when you get protective Pac.”

“My Goddess, can you save the flirting for later?” Phil adds his own affectionate banter. “We are right fucking here mate, also I am very worried about you.”

“How many of these are infected, meu deus—” Bagi comments, locating a health potion and giving it to Pac.

“Make him drink this then we need to get him out of here before Cucurucho does anything else drastic.”

“Bring him to my place, I have both the supplies and the space to treat this. I hope.” Phil's worries are barely hidden upon his weathered face, Fit's vision swaying once more as the agony settles back in now that his adrenaline calmed down.

“Fitchi you stay with us. For me. For our sons, for your Ramón.” Pac's soothing voice is a rope in the storm to cling to, taking a deep breath before drinking the potion Pac helps him consume. 

Giving the empty bottle to someone else, Cellbit and Pac help Fit stand up out of the bloodstained chair where a few hours ago where he was positive he was going to die. Hissing as his broken leg takes his weight Cellbit grunts as he provides more help, doing their best to be gentle as they leave the office together.

It's an odd juxtaposition to be in, going from being the strong warrior who fought for everyone to being the victim everyone cared for but these were people who he trusted himself to be vulnerable around. A very short list over thousands of lifetimes, even with tragedy around every corner somehow that had only bonded this island even closer together and these souls at his side were one of the first people he felt safe with.

“Big guy, if you die on me I will kill you.” Pac's terror is barely restrained, trying to joke his way through this situation.

“A certain Goddess will be pissed too, so keep that in mind.” Phil tosses back as he leads them forward, calling for the elevator. “Stay conscious as long as you can so we can keep checking in, I promise you will get to rest soon.”

Feeling the way Pac slotted himself perfectly into being his support is a well of strength Fit draws upon to keep himself upright, eternally grateful for the people he found himself among here.

“Let's take you home and fix you up, yeah?” Bagi squeezes Fit's arm briefly, Etoiles and Cellbit echoing reassurances as they finally leave the spawn building to the warpstone waiting outside.

I've been here so long, I think that it's time to move

The winter's so cold, summer's over too soon

Let's pack our bags and settle down where palm trees grow

Pac is having trouble believing this is real, despite the comforting weight leaning into him. He can’t help the anxiety tightening across his chest seeing the worst of the damage on display as they help him lie down on the pallet on the floor of Phil’s cottage after clearing the space needed. Niki had rushed over after hearing of Fit’s condition, one of their resident experts in all things medical she gets to work straight away sanitizing various cuts and wounds as Pac softly detaches Fit’s artificial limb to charge. He promises to himself to fix it the moment he can focus before Phil guides him back to his boyfriend’s side to hold his hand of flesh.

Humming softly to the record Phil adds to his player, Niki hands Pac a cloth to begin wiping down Fit’s handsome face from the dried blood and remnants of his left eye. He had passed back out the moment he was horizontal but Niki assured them all that was probably for the best, saving him the pain associated with cleaning all the damage that occurred to his poor body since he went missing moons ago.

Pac shuddered thinking what must have happened with his left eye socket now gaping and empty, missing the beautiful hazel orb that once regarded Pac with so much protection it was affectionately suffocating. Taking a moment to settle his stomach and swallow the bile that had slowly inched its way up his throat, Pac gets back to work concentrating on how much better his partner will feel after they finish their tasks.

Niki briefly leaves as they strip Fit out of the ruined clothes that were in some spots embedded in his torn skin, covering his dignity with a towel Phil and Pac sponge off the rest of the grime before the next part of their procedure begins.

Stitching together all the lacerations Niki deemed necessary to need them, it's a good few records in their entirety before they can relax knowing they have done their best. After splinting his broken knee back in place and dressing the anarchist in loose clothing, they were finished after packing up all the medical supplies nearby. 

Cellbit, Etoiles and Bagi had gone to the Mom Village to check in on everyone after realising they were more of a hindrance lacking the medical knowledge to help effectively. Instead choosing to give those who needed it some space they leave, swearing they won’t say anything quite yet until they are positive Fit will pull through. As tough as he might be, his body had a traumatising amount of injuries caused to it, it was up to his will to wake up.

For now, Pac laid back down on a sleeping bag Phil helped him set up to doze directly beside his love after cleaning himself up from the medical attention earlier, not willing to leave his side for even a single second afterwards. 

He didn’t care how many scars or burns disturbed Fit’s flesh, he only saw and admired the strength within Fit’s well-guarded heart and the compassion that had bloomed under his and Ramón’s adoration. His partner had been through hell and back, if Pac had to spend the next thousand mornings kissing each healing ghost of a wound and promising Fit forever, he would do so happily. He would give it all just to see Fit’s smile one final time knowing that his soul was allowed another chance at a quiet domestic life, though that sentiment was at war with wanting to be that partner Fit lived a life cooking for and loving absolutely.

“He’s a strong bastard, he will come back to us.” Phil comforts them both, having just waved Niki off when she returned home via motorboat. As Fit healed she promised that both of Phil’s children and his husband could stay at her home, allowing the trio a moment of peace for Fit to recover in.

“How do you know?” Pac can’t help but voice his worries, feeling instantly better the moment Phil leans down to rub his shoulder with a smile.

“I have faith. Sleep well Pac, don’t be afraid to wake me if you need anything, I swear I won’t be upset.” Phil straightens back up when Pac returns his kindness with his own goodnight wishes, watching Phil do a round of checking everything is secure before he makes his way upstairs, leaving Pac and Fit alone together.

“I was so worried about you Fitch.” Pac confesses into the chilly night air, listening to the crickets sing outside as he reaches forward with one of his narrow fingers to trace the bandages wrapped around his boyfriend’s temples and across the left side of his face. “I felt like I was in Purgatory again; alone, bleeding and terrified. Ramón became so withdrawn, not that I blame him because I nearly followed his route until our friends kept showing up to remind me to care for myself.”

Rhythmic breathing is all that follows for a good long while until Pac lets his head lay down on Fit’s broad chest and snuggles closer to his sunshine. There were many words to be shared yet he preferred speaking them when Fit could respond, for now he had to convince himself Fit would still be here when he woke up and to stop sitting back up to trace another part of his love’s sleeping face as a grounding touch for them both.

Yawning again, Pac mumbles one last thing as he presses a kiss to Fit’s forehead,“I love you, Fit. We never got to say it to each other but that will change the moment you wake up. Keep fighting, I will be there for every beat of your heart going forward. I swear, how else could I survive and want to be a better person without the one who holds me at my worst and cheers for my best.”

Pac goes through an entire spectrum of emotions over the next few sunrises, Phil talking him down every single time with a patience well learned over his immortal lifetime. Fit continues to slumber as all their efforts go into healing his physical state, Niki coming over each dawn and sunset to check on her patient. Cleaning the stitches and checking his broken bones are healing properly, they all breathe a sigh of relief once the sickly scent of infection clears on the second day.

Phil encourages Pac to talk to his boyfriend and stay nearby, claiming maybe even in his unconscious state the anarchist could hear them all. Meanwhile the crow shoulders the burden of coordinating care for all their kids, Tubbo stepping up to the plate by offering a place for Ramón as long as they need and Richas had several other parents he could be pawned off too. Pac had no idea how Phil managed to convince the children to not to come over and investigate, he simply winked and claimed all would be forgiven the moment Fit woke from his medicinal coma. Allowing Pac to remain at Fit’s side as the hours slowly passed waiting for any sign for them to be truly reunited, treating his broken love with grace and gentle touch in the meantime.

I've got some friends, some that I hardly know

But we've had some times, I wouldn't trade for the world

We chase these days down with talks of the places that we will go

Soft birdsong is the first thing the anarchist becomes aware of as his body struggles to regain consciousness, shrugging away the heavy embrace of healing potions as he rejoins the world of the living. Two voices are chatting in the background between the clatter of pans, delicious food scents filling Fit’s nose as his muscles twitch, awareness flooding all his senses. Gentle music fills in the gaps between the sweet laughter of the dear souls who were responsible for him finally being safe, hissing as he attempts to move his arms which brings a gasp from someone nearby.

“Fitch?” Pac’s beautiful voice is the last bit of encouragement Fit needs to finally wrench his eye open, confused why his other refused to respond before realising it was covered by something scratchy. “It’s okay, you are safe, I swear. Oh Fit—”

Landing heavily beside where his boyfriend lays, the anarchist is greeted by his wonderful love as Pac’s own gaze fills with tears, glassy night skies Fit could get lost in. Reaching out a hand to caress Fit’s jaw, he leans forth to press both their foreheads together gingerly, doing his best to not rest his weight on anywhere that might be tender. 

Fit clears his throat and whispers; “Hello my love.”

“If you ever scare me like that I will kill you.” Pac chokes out, pressing their lips together for a brief firework-filled kiss before pulling back. “I love you too, we will talk about everything when you are ready but for now you only have to worry about recovering, you are safe under our care.”

“That’s fucking right, if that bear comes knocking I will give them the harshest reality check they’ve ever seen.” Phil pipes up, leading to Fit chuckling before he grunts at the pain that simple act of joy brought his aching ribs.

“I doubt he will, I saw a glimpse of our past in your threats to them in that office, you intimidated the bastard!” Fit compliments, allowing Pac to help him sit up carefully to observe where they were. “You’ve helped us above and beyond what you had too, per usual Phil, I appreciate your skill helping me heal and letting me crash here.”

“It made the most sense, besides, my home does appear to be the place everyone gathers at and has enough space for multiple visitors. Speaking of, since you are awake now do you want me to fetch your son?”

A flash of his beautiful baby boy made in Heaven by the Goddess Herself appears in his mind, his frantic nods answer enough as Pac giggles. Fit shudders at the bandages covering his left temple and socket, Pac's expression turning into one of hesitation.

“Pac, why can’t I see out of my eye?”

“Well we aren't sure if it was destroyed by Cucurucho or where you were beforehand but there was nothing left of it to restore.” Pac's beautiful voice is quiet as he explains, reaching forward to trace his finger with a feather-light touch along Fit's cheek just below the white fabric. “I'm sorry, Fitchi, we couldn't save what wasn't there.”

Taking a deep breath, Fit lets himself absorb the news. His body was a mess of scars and a museum of a life lived through turmoil. He was now half blind on top of being mostly deaf from being far too close to many explosions and missing his left arm, sawn off in the wastelands of his past. He hated the weakness that dragged him down thinking of the consequences of his long lifetime showing in various physical ailments some of which would never be what they once were.

“Fitchi.” Pac shoves his way closer onto the pallet they were both sitting on, reaching forward to hold his anarchist's jaw to connect their gazes together. “How can I help?”

“I just feel very defeated right now.” Fit admits, reaching up with his right hand to cover one of Pac's. “I will never be able to put into words how much I appreciate you coming to save me from Cucurucho's claws but I am so tired of adapting to pieces of myself being lost to conflict.”

“If you dare to give up on yourself right now…” Pac practically hisses, his endless eyes flashing as Fit's own widens. “You think we will let you just roll over and wallow in this pain? We are here to help you, you are a stronger man because of the torment you went through. Yes we all have moments of weakness but you have many people who love you and will help care for you whether that’s listening or helping you learn how to live a normal life again. You will get through this because you have an endless amount of hands willing to pick you back up when you stumble and if you need a shoulder to lean on while you gather your strength.

The veteran's throat tightens as the heat behind Pac's demands balms the wounded parts of his soul, giving a single nod as he is unable to form words at the drowning love that was poured into their relationship. “You once said to hell and back, I am here to be your guiding point to always direct you home even through the worst purgatory. Forever and always, we found each other to have and hold, you won't get away that easily from my grasp.”

Fit leans forward to kiss him, ignoring Phil's exhausted yet affectionate scoff as he makes his way out the front door to fetch their children. They enjoy a few moments of one another's touch before Pac leaves to locate Fit's arm, helping him reattach the mechanical limb, fixed up by the handsome brunette while he was unconscious.

“Ramón is about to come in here like a bat out of hell.” Fit’s deep voice is shaking with excitement, Pac’s joy only increasing the emotion after the amazing pep talk his boyfriend provided him.

“You two share a very special bond, he missed you desperately.”

As those last words left Pac's lips Phil's door was thrown open, a small child with wild chestnut curls bursts his way in and scrambles across the floor to toss himself into Fit's embrace. It's impossible to tell who starts crying first during this family reunion, Pac joining the hug after Ramón tugs him in. Richas is last to join the pile on the pallet, Fit trying not to groan as his tender wounds are jostled in his family's exuberance.

“Oh my darlings…” He holds all his boys close, Pac wiping the tears from his own face as Ramón snuggles closer into Fit's chest. “I am so sorry I didn't come back on Monday.”

That makes Ramón lean back, his gaze growing tight before he signs with shaky hands in a language half of the wastelands mixed with the one he shared with the rest of his siblings. “I am glad you are safe but I have many, many questions.”

“I wouldn't expect anything less.”

“Pa I was so scared you wouldn’t come back, Pai became so depressed and impulsive, he worried us all after the moment your disappearance became known.” Richas continues his brother’s statement, Fit tossing a look at Pac who rubs the back of his neck nervously.

“We will discuss it all but for now, let me enjoy holding my family once more.” Fit brings them all back close and ignores the shutter noise of Phil taking a photo, reminding himself to bug the crow later for a copy.

His muscles still screamed their frustration but he squashed it down to memorize how it felt having everyone he loved back close to him. He didn’t quite realise how much he missed loving touch until it was robbed from him for moons on end, he swore to himself to make up for that lost time starting today. Richas and Ramón cuddled into his arms where Pac draped himself across his side, wrapping his arms around the trio.

Slowly they separate as Phil’s children and husband join them alongside Niki, Bagi and Empanada, everyone is ecstatic the moment they see that Fit is awake. Niki immediately runs all sorts of checks on her patient while Ramón and Richas go to help clear space for Phil to make food for everyone who is here.

Fit simply soaks it all in as Niki is measuring his heartbeat, watching their friends attend to various tasks with laughter aplenty and affection traded between helping one another cook a fantastic meal. Once Niki finishes her checks she joins Phil where he is rolling out dough, the way they danced around one another without verbal coordination showed their easy trust within each other. Fit didn’t have the pleasure of sharing any prior worlds with the strong shieldmaiden but he had clear memories of Phil singing her praises any time they were apart.

Bagi and Pac are chatting about something in rapid Portuguese while they are helping portion out the sides for the sandwiches their children were crafting, a smile on all their faces as they spent time together. Ramón refused to leave Fit’s side after Empanada took over helping prepare their meal, something the anarchist was overwhelmingly grateful for, enjoying the rare cuddle from his normally stoic child as he dozed safely in his father’s arms. His inquisitive eyes occasionally opened slightly to reassure himself that Fit was still holding him before falling shut once more.

It was pleasant sunshine on a fragrant green meadow, this exact moment, his trusted companions working in harmony to provide them delicious food while Fit committed to memory how it felt to be so unconditionally loved. Sugary scents of cinnamon dough ready to turn into buns the moment they properly rise waft around Phil’s beautiful home, plates clinking as Chay and Lullah set the table.

Fit’s stomach rumbled loudly, Ramón blinking his eyes open and yawning afterwards with a playful glare at his father for disturbing his nap as he climbed out of the embrace. Richas was also dozing, cuddled up against his Pa, having made himself comfortable tucked into his side. Pac makes his way over and wakes their wild child, easily picking him up to place him in a chair before returning to Fit’s side with Phil shortly behind.

The crow hands over a crutch he had fashioned for the veteran while his knee healed, between Pac and Phil they get Fit upright and over to the dining table. Pac helps him sit down, pressing a shy kiss to his cheek before placing the crutch nearby and taking the free seat to Fit’s right hand side. Ramón takes his left and everyone else packs tightly in. Phil’s sturdy table is a bit on the small side for the amount of souls crowded around it but not a single one of them complained about the closeness.

Pac helps Fit serve himself a ham and cheese sandwich with a side of delicious potato wedges, the Death Family’s hosting skills are top tier per usual along with a tall glass of water to drink. A few different conversations break out around the table leaving the Rosa Family to chat with one another, Richas immediately stuffing his face compared to the other three who start slower.

The sparks that explode beneath his flesh every time Pac nonchalantly traces his fingers across his partner’s skin is something Fit is positive he will never get tired of. Since he had woken up Pac refused to leave his side and Fit was not complaining about it at all, often leaning into the soft caresses because he couldn’t get enough of knowing Pac was nearby.

Ramón was furiously scribbling notes into his journal, from what Fit could see on occasion it was ideas for a new machine for Tubbo’s factory. Pac had informed him that Ramón spent quite a bit of time in the Town of Fobo in his father’s absence, something Fit intended to thank the clever brunette profusely for. Giving his intelligent child a place to design and create with someone who could keep up with his intricate designs was a Goddess-send as a distraction from their time apart, Fit giving Ramón a proud grin when he asks for a breakdown on what this fantastical new contraption would do and his son launches into an extensive and detailed description of the machine he had invented.

Pac clears his plate of food quickly before tucking himself under Fit’s right arm and hums under his breath a tune the anarchist knew perfectly, his cheeks growing rosy recognising the song he wrote for his boyfriend ages ago. Pondering what he could bribe Ramón with to go get his guitar from their home to play it once more, he finishes eating his sandwich as his son completes his explanation of his new device.

They spend the rest of the sun-high hours catching back up, once word gets out Fit has returned people kept showing up without notice to happily greet their once missing friend. The Rebellion members, the Town of Fobo, Cellbit and his family are among many others who come to shower Fit in love mentioning how scared they were for his fate and they were immeasurably happy that he was safe.

Prying questions were asked and avoided, most people letting it go besides the most curious souls who Fit knew would demand better explanations in a more private setting. Bagi, Etoiles and Cellbit in particular, giving the grace of not pressing now but Fit knew the moment he was in better condition they wouldn’t hold back.

If he was honest he was still debating how much he would reveal, beyond telling his immediate family everything he debated holding back to protect the other islanders from Madagio.

The topic quickly got buried beneath wild laughter and overwhelming love, sweet as the baked treats Niki, Empanada, Sunny and Lullah kept passing out the moment someone's plate emptied. This was the return this tired old anarchist hoped for, spending precious moments with his friends and family far away from the obligation he once agreed too before slowly coming to regret it.

Hours speed by and the sun sets off in the horizon Phil’s cottage faces, people are slow to leave until they all grow tired where they are now sitting upon the dock where they were stargazing, having shifted spaces to watch the beautiful end of the day painted across the sky.

Fit yawns while leaning heavily into Pac’s embrace when Niki suddenly claps her hands together, looking at those friends still left. “My patient needs rest after his ordeal so I am pulling the medical card for him and telling you all to go home, lovingly of course.”

Phil chuckles, joining her where she stands. “I’ll say it, get the hell out.”

Despite the harsh phrasing, the friends who are left chuckle as they pull themselves to their feet knowing it was said in good fun and pick their sleepy children up. Etoiles, Baghera and the Mom Village leave first, followed shortly by Bad with Dapper and Pomme close behind. The last to leave is the Town of Fobo crew, Tubbo hanging back after Foolish agrees to take their kids home to embrace Fit for several heartbeats.

“I missed you too, kid.” Fit’s deep voice is warm, saying aloud what he knew Tubbo was feeling but having trouble verbalising. “Once I am better we will sit down and have a long talk about what we need to get off our chests but the short answer is I apologize for not reaching out sooner when the distance started to grow.”

“Neither of you deserved my anger and it was childish of me to cause shit when you both were so happy.” Tubbo finally responds in a quiet tone, unable to meet Fit’s gaze until Pac reaches over to join the hug. “I’m sorry.”

“Morning crew forever, let’s not do this again where feelings fester and instead talk them out immediately.”

“Deal.” Tubbo’s voice is tight as he replies, leaning back just enough to check both their expressions. “Let’s do something soon, the moment you feel well enough to do so, Sunny misses you desperately—so do I to be honest.”

“Of course, I have neglected my bodyguard duties for far too long.” Fit smiled thinking of Tubbo’s excitable child, protective to a fault of Morning Crew’s children especially.

“Get home safe, yeah?” Pac tells Tubbo, who nods and waves goodbye while making his way to the transportation stone beside the stairs up to Phil’s home.

Phil and Pac help Fit back inside to the pallet still in the middle of the living room, helping the couple tuck in as Missa does the same with their children. Ramón decides to have a sleepover with Chay and Lullah, joining them upstairs along with their parents after Phil checks that everything is secure. 

Fit holds his love close as they snuggle up together, making a promise to himself to never spend a night apart from Pac ever again. In the wastelands he always slept alone, not wanting to be so vulnerable around people he didn’t trust, which was the complete opposite of who he was now where he barely slept without his boyfriend’s delightful presence.

He joins Pac’s humming of the song he wrote for his Brazilian boyfriend, holding him ever closer with his right arm while Pac shifts to lean his head on Fit’s chest. Their vision connects and Fit’s heart beats faster beneath Pac’s soft touch, admiring the handsome man who always chose him.

“What would I do without you?” Fit’s voice rumbles low in the subtle moonlight peaking through the windows, completely absorbed in the night sky eyes of Pac.

“We would both be worse off, that’s for sure.” Pac lets his fingers trace across Fit’s chest before he hugs the veteran and tucks his head beneath Fit’s chin, silky pitch tresses getting stuck in Fit’s stubble as he settles in to hold him closer, both tangled impossibly close on the pallet. 

Pac’s forgotten sleeping bag was behind him, Fit maneuvering them until they were both under the thick knitted blanket that covered him. Feeling much better after the doses of health potions allowed some of his strength to return, giving a small smile at Pac’s squeak at the movement before they were in a comfortable position once more. Fit was positive he would overheat but he couldn’t bring himself to care, much preferring the feeling of being embraced by the one that stole his heart.

“I was going crazy without you.” Pac admits as he gazes up at Fit’s hazel eye, tracing the eyepatch Fit now wore while the gruesome wound healed.

“Same.”

“Will you tell me where you went now?” Pac’s hesitation tugged at Fit’s soul, turning his head slightly to press a kiss the inside of Pac’s palm before nodding.

“Yes, but I don’t want this knowledge shared with anyone else unless I agree they have to know. My boss is a dangerous creature, I don’t want to invoke their ire on anyone here.” Pac agrees immediately, Fit taking a deep breath before launching into what happened these past few weeks.

We live on front porches and swing life away

We get by just fine here on minimum wage

If love is a labor I'll slave till the end

I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand

Until you hold my hand

“I arrived at the radio tower with the minimum amount of data and high hopes it would be enough to satisfy them, leaving me to take the retirement reward and return here. After I began the upload I fell asleep in a chair nearby, not suspecting a thing and there was something irresistible about it, unsurprisingly that was a trap. I awoke upon this dead world filled with fragments of information and dust, it was very clear no one had lived there in a very long time.”

Pac could taste the sand upon his tongue as Fit describes the landscape, able to picture the sun dimmed behind clouds of heavy particulates and fog. He goes on to explain finding tidbits of knowledge along his trek until he eventually ran into Madagio who shoved him into a pit. After ridiculing him due to forming attachments and not satisfied with the amount of data Fit brought, they left him to rot in that cavern and reconsider his choices.

“I was probably days from death when they suddenly reappeared and tossed me through the portal directly at Cucurucho’s feet.”

“Are you on another deadline?” Pac’s stomach sank thinking that might be the case before Fit shakes his head.

“I don’t think so. They didn’t say a word to me when they brought me back, I have a pretty good feeling that it will be our last interaction.”

“I hope so. I never want to lose you again, Fitchi.” Pac’s voice stumbles over that statement, Fit reaching forward to comb his fingers through Pac’s messy locks soothingly.

“You won’t, not as long as I have a say in it. I want to grow old with you Pac, raise our kids in this chaotic yet wonderful community we found ourselves within. It would be everything to me to watch your hair grow grey and your laugh lines deepen as the seasons pass, there is no one else I want at my side as my son’s father and my partner through it all.”

Taking away his words, Pac stutters before simply kissing Fit, making them both laugh before becoming lost in each other's touch and feelings. Eventually they separate from their loving reassurances that this is real, still pressed close as slumber claims them both with Pac’s head upon Fit’s collarbone and arms wrapped around one another.

The morning comes far too quickly in Pac’s opinion, awoken when Phil descends downstairs to begin the day. Deciding to let Fit rest for a while longer they work in tandem to prepare breakfast, Pac smiling every time Phil laughed.

Though the old crow seemed withdrawn at the beginning Pac found a kind soul behind that mask, realising after his many years alive he kept people at a distance until he was positive he could trust them. Now they got along famously, between Phil helping Pac with his archery and the sheer amount of time the crow and Fit spent together their families had grown quite close.

Eventually their children join them which rouses Fit when the trio of troublemakers arrive at the meal they just finished making, the veteran groaning affectionately as they celebrate the sweet pancakes filled with various fruits and chocolate. Unable to be annoyed for long Pac helps Fit stand up and make his way to the table to eat breakfast together, enjoying the fresh syrup atop the sugary treats.

Once they finish Phil asks Pac to deliver some of the baked goods that were left behind by Niki back to the Mom Village when he mentions going to see Bagi. She asked him to come hang out soon and Fit shooed him off after mentioning he wanted to spend some time with Ramón, needing a few hours just as father and son. Pac understood completely, expecting Fit to want to explain where he had been these past few moons to his curious son. He was unsure whether Fit wanted to tell the crow as well but he trusted if he wanted to, he would. It wasn’t Pac’s story to tell, so he packed up the treats and the utensils that had been left behind and got in a boat outside to make the short journey to the neighbouring settlement.

Navigating across the small bay he ties the vessel to the dock before making his way up to Bagi’s front door, waving to Niki who is tending to her garden with Empanada. Jaiden sat beneath a tree nearby, drawing something in her sketchbook with Tina at her side, giggling as they chatted.

Bagi answers the door and hugs Pac tight, trading their good mornings as Bagi lets him into her home.

“Wow, I am so glad Fit is back.” She mentions leading him downstairs to where most of her home was set up. “Do you know where he was?”

“I do, but it’s not my place to share.” He could tell she was frustrated with how vague the brunette was before she let it go, respecting his decision. “I am just very happy he is safe.”

“You two are good for each other.” Bagi agrees, going to the hidden ladder in the corner to descend to where her kitchen lay. Pac follows without any prompting, as her best friend he was trusted with quite a few of her secrets including the fact her true base lay deeper behind this facade of a room.

“How are you and Tina, speaking of good couples?” Pac teases, enjoying how Bagi’s face turns rosy as she walks over to the fridge.

“I asked her to marry me.”

“WHAT?” Pac shrieks, making them both jump before the biggest smiles are shared between them. “Did she say yes?”

“She hasn’t found it yet, I left a note and chest inside her room. She just spent the last few days with Bad helping him around his base because he’s still recovering from his last ordeal.”

Pac winces, thinking about how far the demon had decayed before the situation resolved itself. “I’m taking Fit’s return as a sign we have all been through enough, I just want peace even if it’s temporary to give us space to breathe and recover.”

“Goddess willing, it was terrifying nearly losing our trusted companions so close together.”

Pac nods, before he returns to a previous subject. “Why in a chest? Don’t you want to ask her personally?”

“I’m scared she will say no…”

“Bagi.” Pac addresses his best friend, waiting for her to look at him. “She adores you, I highly doubt she would refuse. In fact, I bet she’s even considering asking you anyways. You bring out the best in each other, I wholeheartedly support it.”

“Have you ever thought about asking Fit to marry you?” Turning the inquisition on the clever brunette, it’s his turn to blush before he gives a slight nod. “Tell me everything.”

“I don’t think either of us are truly the marriage type but I have thought about giving him my promise ring and asking him to be my partner for the rest of our lives.” Pac rubs his hands together before grinning at Bagi. “The fact both of us are on the same wavelength with wanting to ask our significant other’s for their hearts forever, without knowing the other was planning the exact same thing.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Pac.” Bagi pulls him in for a long hug, the taller man resting his chin on the crown of her head before they separate.

He helps her put away all the cooking tools that Phil sent him with after they sneak a few more cookies from the large containers filled with goodies, enjoying them with a round of hot cocoa. Eventually the storm outside picks up and Bagi sends him back to Phil’s with a vow to do something together soon, seeing him off from the dock while the cold wind howls. 

Making it safely back they spent a few more days at the Death Family cottage as Fit recovered from some of the damage that had been caused to his body, at least enough that he could walk short distances. It was decided they would head home the next day afterwards, having one more good meal before everyone retired for the evening and tucked into bed.

I'll show you mine if you show me yours first

Let's compare scars, I'll tell you whose is worse

Let's unwrite these pages and replace them with our own words

Pac fell asleep far earlier than Fit tonight, leaving the anarchist to make his way to the fishing dock through a door off the living room after his mind kept him awake. It was a suspended platform high enough that they were safe from any monsters beneath, Phil’s building skills on display everywhere throughout this beautiful red and white cottage. The anarchist takes a deep breath of the salty air, his thoughts remaining busy with plans for the future, something he couldn’t be upset about as he sat on a wooden bench beneath the stars and considered where to go from here.

He turns as the door behind him creaks, Phil emerging from his cottage with a smile to his best friend, Fit’s gaze catching on the eerie shimmering purple scarring that was prominent through his once grand wings. Sliding over to allow the crow to sit down, the blonde does so with a groan before joining looking up at the galaxies above.

Fit turns to him to see Phil mumbling some prayers beneath his breath, letting him finish until the crow turns to his best friend. “Doing alright, mate?”

“Pondering what to do from here, thinking about how lucky I am to have such an amazing boyfriend and family to rely on, the usual.” Fit smiles, Phil grinning hearing the veteran say his sentiments openly.

“Didn’t fancy you the settling down type then I watched Pac sweep you off your feet, you two are perfect together.” Phil’s words are straight from the heart, having known the anarchist for much longer than anyone else upon Quesadilla Island.

“Right back at you, Mr Platonic Husband and two loving children.”

“What can I say, I get attached far too quickly.” Phil fidgets with the emerald earring Fit had never seen him without as he chuckles.

“Love does crazy things to a person.”

“I completely agree.”

Words die out as Phil curses when he tries to shift one of his wings from an uncomfortable position, Fit deciding to hell with it and asking the question he held back for days. “What happened with the Ender King, Phil?”

Feeling bad as he watches the crow shy away from the inquiry as he takes a few deep breaths, allowing words to gather before he answers the veteran’s question. “After you disappeared it got worse, the greed became this all consuming thing and I hit my breaking point. Needing to put some space between myself and those I love I took off towards the horizon unsure I would ever return.

A few heartbeats pass before Phil continues, lost in his own memories briefly of what he was describing. “Chayanne ignored my warnings and chased me down, fighting me in my possessed form for many days before he defeated the Ender King. The fallen god then fled with his tail between his legs and my wife alongside a few old friends promised they would secure his spirit so he could never escape, I trust my Goddess to follow through.”

“I thank Her for that, you are a valuable ally and it scared the shit out of me watching you become unrecognizable after our centuries together.” Fit reaches out to pat Phil’s forearm, the crow nodding quietly. “We’ve both seen our own go mad, I was afraid I’d have to kill you when I returned.”

“I am so proud of my son Fit, yes he went against my warnings but he cared enough to spend several hours wearing out my possessed body until I could take control once more and shove the Ender King out. I have it on good authority that Chay had some help from someone dear to me but that’s a secret from anyone who asks.”

One of the worst kept ones, Fit thought, he knew exactly who was meddlesome enough to interfere with the rules of the Gods just to help his nephew be victorious. A legendary warrior famous for his skills of warfare and dry sarcasm, at one point Fit had sworn fealty to this warrior in exchange for becoming allies upon lands of ice and snow. No one could control him and it was something Fit admired deeply, knowing from personal experience how impressive Phil’s ancient warrior partner was.

“Do you want to tell me where you went?” A fair ask, Fit ponders how much to explain to Phil before going with a carefully worded answer.

“A being I made a deal with in exchange for a ticket to this island came knocking, demanding something I promised them by a certain date. They weren’t happy with what I brought them and decided to punish me before they had a change of heart and returned me here. No idea what caused that decision but I am forever grateful, well besides the torture Cucurucho put me through trying to get the information I just gave you.”

As that sentence leaves his mouth a crow suddenly appears before them, Fit jumping as Phil remained calm, used to constantly being around birds of all species as an avian hybrid himself. Dropping the wither rose it held in its beak into Fit’s lap it poofs away in an explosion of purple particles, Phil smirking as the realisation settles into his best friend.

“It seems your wife saved us both.” Fit comments, picking up the bloom carefully as Phil nods, looking up to the moon above.

“Of course She did. Which means neither of us have to worry about our past at the moment, maybe as long as we live within this world.”

“Phil, I think I want to stay here forever.” Fit admits to the only one who understood the depth of that declaration, the blonde motioning him to go on. “Or at least wherever my family goes, I want to watch them grow up and become who they were meant to. I want to live until the end of Pac’s life and perhaps follow him, finding my own eternal rest and happiness in the beyond that awaits us.”

“Love will do that to you.” Phil sympathizes, giving an approving expression. “I’m happy for you mate, and will support whatever decision you choose to make. You found someone you are willing to face a mortal life for, I’m proud of you. Life is much more fulfilling with people you would give everything for at your side to make memories with that will comfort you through troubled times.”

Phil peers back out across the lake he was in the center of, his mind a thousand blocks away until conversation resumes once more. “I think I want to stay here too, at least for a while. That is, until Techno or the Goddess need my help but even then I might bring Chay, Lullah and Missa with me.”

“It's a special place we found here, full of people we consider changing several centuries worth of habits for.”

“You’ve never been more right, my friend.”

Two ancient warriors consider their heavy choices on that redwood dock beneath the starry abyss above, finding solace in each other's company until they finally decide to sleep. The rest of their time together is spent on lighter topics until they return inside to the loving arms of their partner’s, their children still in the blanket fort they created upstairs, and fall into slumber with lighter hearts after talking about topics only they understood.

We live on front porches and swing life away

We get by just fine here on minimum wage

If love is a labor I'll slave till the end

I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand

Pac blinks awake the following dawn to an empty bed, briefly panicking that Fit had left and was hurt somewhere until he heard a soft melody through a cracked window in the kitchen. Shrugging on warm clothes he stumbles outside and follows the shaky strums of a guitar until he finds his love sitting by the frozen pond behind Phil’s cottage. Sitting on a bench in the warm sun, Pac spies the beginning of spring around them in the melting snow and trees blooming fragrant buds with emerald leaves encased within.

Fit doesn’t hear him approach, allowing the brunette to admire the visage before him as Fit mindlessly plays a few scales warming back up his skills. His worn leather jacket is fastened tight to keep the chilly wind out, a knitted beanie pulled down to cover his hearing aids and his bare hands picking away at the strings of his weathered instrument.

Pac had spent hours asking about the engravings and stickers that covered his guitar, listening to the many stories this object had witnessed with enraptured attention.

Eventually Fit catches sight of him and waves him over, Pac rushing over to kiss Fit good morning before settling at his side with a yawn that leads into a smile.

“Sleep okay, handsome?” Pac questions, Fit nodding as he returns to playing his guitar and humming. “I’m glad, I just got worried you got up and couldn’t make it back to bed.”

“I’m feeling much better but I treasure the fact you were concerned, my love.” Fit replies before he lapses into a song that became both their lullabies, the couple getting lost in the music Fit wrote specifically for his boyfriend.

Pac lays his head on Fit’s shoulder as he plays, committing each second to his memory of this moment they shared under the clear blue sky of early spring. It's soft and quiet besides the beautiful tunes Fit coaxed from his instrument, cushioned by the heavy snow beneath their feet. He couldn’t believe this hulking warrior was all his, as the first person Fit ever let hear his music he would treasure that for as long as he lived.

This moment is the definition of peaceful, filled with love and harmony of two souls who understood each other perfectly after facing many trials together. Pac wouldn’t have it any other way; after a strong friendship the feelings between thief and anarchist bloomed into a relationship that many were both envious of and happy for.

After crashing into this island he never would have expected to find his forever upon these shores, but he refused to ever picture anything else now that he experienced Fit’s devotion. Wrapping his arm around Fit’s lower back they let the symphony the veteran plays do the talking, rising through highs and humming through lows until he finishes the song.

Pac’s blinking away tears at the end, Fit turning to him with a similar expression as the brunette reaches across to brush them away from his right hazel eye. Leaning in for one more sweet kiss, Fit places down his guitar before shifting so he faces Pac completely.

“Pac, I have something I want to discuss.” Pac tries to not let his anxiety show which is immediately caught by Fit, who captures his wringing hands. “This isn’t a breakup, far from it.

Fit takes a moment to gulp nervously before the veteran continues. “You’ve changed my life for the better in so many ways we could be out here for hours if I try to explain them all so instead I will put it like this. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I’m not the marrying type but Cellbit once mentioned that where you grew up you would exchange promise rings with the person you want to swear to spend forever with. I don’t have them on me, in fact I only asked Phil to make them last night and I intended this conversation to happen after a proper date—”

Cutting off his rambling, Pac presses their lips together for a brief kiss before replying with his own shaking voice. “Of course I want to spend my forever with you, if I wasn’t positive you were with Phil a few days ago I swear you were spying on Bagi and I because I told her I was considering asking you.”

“You’re kidding.” Fit laughs, Pac frantically shaking his head no before he responds.

“I’m not, that morning you spent with Ramón Bagi asked me if I would consider spending my life with you and I told her I already planned on it.”

“I think that’s a sign it was meant to be.” Fit replies with a wide smile, reaching out to hold both of Pac’s hands. “It would be my pleasure to spend eternity at your side, helping you raise and protect our family. Give me many more opportunities to remind you how much I love you and appreciate us as a couple.”

“You saved me from despair when those I considered my family went missing, and have gone above and beyond in supporting me while I became a stronger version of myself. I could thank you for a thousand different things, Fitchi, and will spend forever doing so.” Squeezing their hands together, Pac finishes by saying. “I love you too.”

The sun overhead watches the couple celebrate the next step in their relationship before they head inside to wake their child and tell him the news. Louding cheering echoes across the lake when the Death Family finds out they were now life partners, Pac adding his own request to Fit’s commission from Phil to make the matching jewelry.

Unbeknownst to them, this was the first symbol of an extended peace that would overtake these lands. The Federation was still licking their wounds, Madagio was long gone, and no one had seen any sign of the black concrete since they left their old spawn. With Fit returning safely and Phil no longer possessed, the islanders could take a breath of relief and spend the foreseeable future bonding ever closer while they raised their children with good morals and loving hearts.

This harmony felt foreign for the first few moons before even the most paranoid accepted things were settling down, allowing an age of laughter and joy. Buildings sprung up everywhere as people established themselves, neighbours volunteering to help one another without prompting when they were needed between many gatherings growing closer together.

It was the beginning of a happily ever after that every wounded soul upon this Island deserved, protected by a Goddess at the request of Her husband who wanted a reprieve for all of his dear friends. Their forever had finally begun, and everyone upon Quesadilla Island faced it united while loving one another, raising their families together and nurturing ironclad dedication to protect everyone within their population.

From a world that began in chaos it evolved into one held together with love, and what a wonderful ending that would be.

Swing life away

Swing life away

Swing life away

Swing life away