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Percy felt he should’ve been fine after it all. 

The thing… the demon… whatever the hell it had been was gone. He’d not picked up the pepperbox since Scanlan had taken it and hidden it away- it’s influence gone from his mind and stowed safely in the gnome’s pocket. 

Whitestone was saved, the De Rolo name restored, his sister alive , he even still had friends… friends who had forgiven him for the massive clusterfuck he’d made with the Briarwoods- for the way he’d turned on them like a monster. 

They were finally returning to Emon, in high spirits and waving the banner of victory and truth, ready to clear their names and uncloud Uriel’s mind. 

So why… Why did he still feel so wrong ?

He’d thought with the Briarwoods dead he would feel… safe. Sated at least.

But something still roiled in his belly, churning in his gut, something deeply ravenous, a beast of his own making. It still lay there, coiled neatly, starved and begging for release.  

He opened his mouth to tell, well, not the others. But Vex, however… She was one of the most sensible of the bunch. She had good judgment.

A thought stopped the words from spilling from his lips, stopped his hand from touching her shoulder. What would she say if he told her? And then Keyleth cast tree stride and all of those strange thoughts he’d been having were forgotten for more important things. 

There was no use, really, in telling her that there was something blackening his heart, a hungry wretched thing, still angry . He knew what it was already- it was himself. The rage kindled in his heart had become a forest fire not so easily put out, swallowing him whole. Something like shame mixed with loathing kept him silent- he’d nearly killed her, nearly killed them.

He couldn’t tell them… he just couldn’t. 

This time, whatever it was, he would deal with it on his own. He would handle his problems himself, he would not burden them- he would not hurt them again. 

(He was tired of hurting his family.)  

Thankfully, the keep had been cleaned up in their absence and the evidence of their fight with Delilah’s monsters had been scrubbed from the blackened broken wood. Percy really should extend their thanks to Allura sometime, since it was undoubtedly her who had arranged for something like that. 

None of the other members of Vox Machina had a sense of the proper decorum about such things. In fact, he would bet good money that none of them would even think of it. 

That thought, usually embittered by his companions' lack of subtlety and finesse, was instead colored with a strange foreign sort of affection that made something twist wretchedly inside. 

As they entered their keep after having cleared their names and the Briarwoods’ magical influence, exhausted and tired and ready to sleep, Percy froze on the threshold. Something curled around his heart, his breath hitching- finally catching up with all that had transpired. These people were his friends- a family, really. A family that had survived the Briarwoods. 

(That had been what he was most afraid of, if he thought about it. He’d never minded, not once, if he’d died at the end of his quest for revenge. In fact, he’d embraced it. But then Vox Machina had followed him to Whitestone and he’d been afraid. Scared for their lives. He hadn’t quite realized it until the end, when his weapon was pointed at their heads. The Briarwoods had killed his first family. He could not let them kill his second one.) 

Vex glanced back over her shoulder. She was still scraped and bruised from the many fights they’d been a part of in the past few days, yet somehow still breathtaking, “Percy darling, are you coming?” 

Percy jerked forwards out of his thoughts as he stepped inwards, closing the door behind him, “Ah yes, my apologies. I was… Er, thinking.”

Vex’s lips quirked upwards, brows softening with a strange relief, “Well, don’t do too much of that now, Percival. We’ve seen what happens when you get too caught up in that head of yours.” 

Percy’s shoulders hunched, taken aback, and Scanlan snorted, “I can’t believe I’m the one saying this but maybe still a little too soon Vex.” 

She whirled on Scanlan, reddening strangely, “Shut it, gnome.” 

Percy, impossibly, felt something soothe the jagged edges inside him and he chuckled, striding past them, hands clasped behind his back, “Impeccably timed as always, Scanlan. Vex'ahlia.”

They stared, eyes wide, as Percy headed to his room, steps light. The further he went from them, the more the joy left him- a momentary spark only. His stride slowed as he approached his room and he unclasped his shaking hands, lips thinning.

He honestly had no idea what could be wrong.

He was fine. 

They had won.

Hadn’t they? 

Percy jumped as the door banged open. He turned from his chair by the desk, eyes wild, to see Pike standing there, panting heavily and bright hair mussed, his door busted inwards. It barely hung on its hinges, a mess of splintered wood and shattered metal. 

Percy snapped the pen in his hands, something curdling low in his belly, annoyance and anger sparking as if simmering just below the surface, “Did you have to break down the damn door?”

Pike frowned, straightening and rubbing her bruised knuckles, “I’ve been knocking for five minutes, Percy. Didn’t you hear me? I thought something had- something had…” She trailed off almost awkwardly and he frowned, confused.

After a moment, he sighed and waved a hand dismissively, returning to the blueprints on his desk, “Well, I’m fine. I was just-“ what had he been doing? Diagrams? Blueprints? Before him were maps of the keep that he didn’t recall taking out. He shook his head, rubbing his brows, trying to massage the headache growing there, “Working.”

Pike gingerly stepped over the ruins of his door, tiptoeing over to his side to place a gentle hand on the crook of his elbow. She retracted it when he flinched, uncomfortable. She bit her lip, studying him, making him twitch beneath the heavy knowing weight of her gaze, “Percy, are you okay?”

He snapped at her, bristling, harsh and full of a low growl, unable to help the cruelty dancing on his tongue, “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

Pike tilted her head, taking no offense at his sharp biting tone, “It’s just… we haven’t seen you in a few days. We’re all a bit worried. I just thought… I just thought maybe you’d want to have dinner with everyone.” 

Days? That made him stop. Percy glanced around the room. His bed was perfectly made, no signs of sleep on it. In fact, the clothes he'd changed out of when they’d returned from Whitestone were still neatly folded on the chair in the corner of the room. He’d intended to wash them when he came down for breakfast. 

Percy’s brows furrowed, unable to accept that he had lost days at his desk, “That’s- that’s preposterous, Pike. I don’t- I didn’t…” Had he been sitting here this whole time? What had he been doing? 

Pike looked very concerned, hesitant, “You didn't what, Percy?”

His stomach growled and, like a fog diminishing, he came back to himself. Percy pushed his glasses up, weary, pinching the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, “Perhaps you’re right, Pike. I have been rather preoccupied. It’s time for a break.” 

He ran his hand down his face and then glanced back at his ruined door. An apology for his rage was on the tip of his tongue but it seemed content to stay there, to never take that final step. He smiled, something sad and tired in it, hoping his words would suffice for now, “I suppose I shall have to find a new door.”

Pike snorted, not apologetic in the slightest, “Yeah, probably. I’m sure Scanlan wouldn't mind a roommate, though.”

“Oh gods,” Percy groaned, leaning back, chair creaking, “Don’t even joke about such a thing.”

Pike grinned, relieved, “Answer your door next time.” 

“I will be most sure to do that,” He stood, straightening his vest, smiling more genuinely now, “Well, shall we?”

Percy kept losing time. He didn't know why, he’d go to sleep and then find himself at his desk or he’d start trying to make a new pepperbox, one that was better and more refined and not tainted by the strange dark shadow… And then he’d turn and find himself outside of Scanlan’s door at three am, plans for the keep clutched in his white-knuckled hands with no recollection of how he’d gotten there. 

It made him nervous and the fact that his door was gone only made him shiver with unease. He was utterly unable to put his back to the empty frame, neck prickling with apprehension- like someone was watching him, eyes on his back, following his every move.  

He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was brewing, some dark storm gathering on the distant horizon, heralding of some great doom that was to come.

Percy shook himself out of his dark thoughts, glancing back at the mirror he stared at, the man peering back unrecognizable. His eyes were tired, the bags heavy and dark under them, his skin sallow and pale. 

He’d refused the other’s requests for a night out on the town, citing fatigue. 

He’d been telling the truth when he’d said it just a few hours ago. He was so tired, exhaustion boring deep into his bones, weighing him down. Everything felt too heavy, too much. No matter how much he slept, he could not seem to rest, could not seem to find relief.

Now, however, now that the keep was empty of life, and despite the sick feeling in his stomach and the shivers in his spine, his fingers trembled with a strange sort of energy. 

A numbing anticipation fluttered in his lungs, dread trickling down his spine like spider’s legs. 

Percy sighed, palms braced on the rough wood of armoire. He watched his hands, feeling strangely detached, dulled, as if they were not his own. He knew them well, however, knew the faint scars tracing them as surely as he knew… well, the back of his hand. He glanced up at the mirror agan, his eyes still blue and clear and not the orange and black that Keyleth had once mentioned nervously. That was almost enough to reassure him. 

Almost. 

A voice startled him out of his reverie, every muscle and tendon quivering with fear, “If you’re not careful there, Freddy, you’ll scare your own reflection off.” 

Before his sentence had finished, Percy had already whirled, one hand swiping out towards his hip where his pepperbox no longer hung, fingers spasming over empty air. His other hand had grabbed Vax’s collar, slamming him into the wall, his lips curled, brow furrowed, fury rising in his throat, choking him. 

Vax gasped for air, the breath knocked from his lungs. Percy’s chest heaved, as if he’d run a marathon, as if he’d stolen the air from the half elf’s body. 

Percy stared for a moment, trying to parse what had just happened before he let go, eyes wide, the rage leaving him like cold ice water thrown over his head.

“V- Vax,” he reached out, twitching and unsure. 

He aborted the movement as Vax straightened, coughing, voice hoarse, “Shit, Percival. Remind me not to sneak up on you.” 

Percy took a step back, pulling on the cuffs of his shirt, hurriedly distancing himself, “Yes. Yes, quite right,” he frowned, a foreign thrill of fear running through him again, not quelled in the slightest even though he knew he was safe, “What are you doing here? I thought you were out carousing.” 

Vax waved a hand, eyes skating over his form, as if he were holding something back, “Well, I uh, decided someone needed to stay and watch the keep.” 

Percy’s eyes narrowed with annoyance, folding his arms as he leaned back on the dresser. He knew what that meant. They had felt he needed a watcher, “Did they put you on babysitting duty?”

Vax looked around innocently with a shrug, dark eyes lingering on him pointedly, “Dunno. I don’t see any babies around here, do you?” 

Percy glared, skin itching. He glanced around his room, unable to shake the nagging feeling that he was still being watched. The corners of his quarters were dark and foreboding, a great menace making him suddenly desperate to flee the room, “What the hell do you want, Vax’ildan?”

Vax held up his hands, smile soft, “No need to get tetchy. I came to offer use of my room. I’ve got an extra bed and you’ve got no door. Pike asked around but uh, looks like it’ll be awhile before we can get a replacement,” he laughed trying to lighten the mood, “Fucking doors, right?”

Percy’s glare did not abate and Vax rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “Look, I know what it’s like not… feeling safe. It keeps you from, well, relaxing.” 

Did he really look in need of sleep that bad? 

Percy pressed his lips together, suppressing the knee jerk reaction to lash out, to hide and defend his room with an anger he didn’t recognize. This was his space. But it wasn’t like anyone would be taking it in his absence. 

Besides, moving for a bit might do him some good. 

Percy nodded slowly, mentally cataloging what he should take and what he should keep. Belatedly, he remembered Vax was still waiting for an answer. He sighed, truly grateful, “…Thank you, Vax. I think I shall take you up on your offer,” he grimaced, “It has been terribly… drafty in here as of late.” 

Vax clapped Percy’s shoulder, something worried in the furrow of his brow, fingers massaging the nape of Percy’s neck, gentle and soothing, “Course, that’s what we’re here for. You know you can talk to us, right?” 

Percy nodded, the touch sending uneasy tingles down his spine, almost burning. He shrugged it off, already distracted by the thought of the projects he’d need to relocate, “Yes, yes I know, Vax.” 

He turned back to his desk, gathering his parts and blueprints hastily.

He missed Vax’s reassuring look change, melting into something tight and thin and deeply worried, tracking his every movement with an intensity that would’ve made him shift self-consciously if he’d been aware of it. 

As it was, Percy returned to his work and Vax’s words lingered, quiet and unnerving in the back of his mind. 

Percy unfurled the blueprints he'd taken with him. He’d elected only to transfer a few of his belongings. Hopefully, the door would be here soon and he could return to the privacy of his own quarters. This arrangement would have to suffice for now. 

Vax whistled quietly to himself from the other end of the room, unclasping his cloak and tossing it onto the end of the bed, quick nimble fingers unlacing his boots. 

Percy’s hands stilled as he looked over the half assembled parts warily. His palm burned, the wound still aching even after some of the healing he’d received. This new weapon wouldn’t be functional for a bit yet. Not like his pepperbox just across the hall. 

It would be so much simpler to just retrieve his original weapon. What would be the harm?

He’d seen the harm already. And he was a complete idiot for forgetting its devastating effects so soon. But he truly did ache for it. He longed to hold it again in his hands, to feel it's reassuring weight and perfect fit against his palms, whispering of the ability to protect, to defend, to avenge.

Percy lifted his head, watching Vax yawn, getting ready for bed. He swallowed, tongue thick in his mouth, nearly impossible to move, almost as if trying to keep him from what he was about to say, “Vax.”

Vax looked up, waiting, movements freezing, “Yes?”

His hands curled into fists, nails biting flesh on one and thick gauze on the other, “Can you promise me something?”

“Sure,” Vax raised an eyebrow as he yanked off his boot, “But for what?” 

Percy closed his eyes, breathing deep, unable to face the other man when he spoke, “If that… If anything like… like Orthax ever happens again, I need you to promise to kill me.”

For a moment it was silent, the air oppressive and thick enough to cut with a knife. Then, “Whoa- wait- hold on now, Percy-”

Percy snarled, opening his eyes to shoot the half-elf a glare, “Vax’ildan, stop playing around,” the thief paused, hands spread, eyes wide. Percy sighed, running a hand through his hair, “You saw what happened. You saw what I could’ve done to them- to your sister .” 

He knew he had him when he mentioned Vex. Vax straightened slightly, a hand thumbing the dagger at his side, wary, “I could’ve killed them. I would have killed them...” Percy’s shoulders hunched as he looked back down to his ruined hand, voice quiet, “I can’t stop thinking about it. How easily it was able to- to…” he pressed his lips together, “I won’t let something like that happen again.” 

He straightened, palm on fire, breath hitching as he faced him finally, the other man’s eyes flinty, “I’d rather die, you understand Vax’ildan? I would rather die.” 

Vax dug his fingers into his knees, distressed, “Percival… I can’t-”

“I nearly killed your sister,” Percy did not shy away from those words- it was the truth after all, despite its bitterness, “Do you understand me, Vax?”

Vax closed his eyes with a sigh, lips pulling downwards with displeasure, “I know what you’re doing, Percy, and it's a bullshit move.”

“It’s the truth, Vax, and you know it,” Anger flared within, bright and quick, “Do not get squeamish with me now. You’re the only one I can trust with this. The only one who would be fast enough, capable enough.”

Vax chuckled darkly and Percy’s lips twisted with momentary regret, “You know what I mean.”

Percy sighed and removed his glasses, staring down at them gleaming in the low candlelight. He grimaced and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, cleaning them slowly, “If Orthax shows himself in me once more, I need you to kill me, Vax, do you understand?” Satisfied with his job, he placed the glasses back on the edge of his nose, reflecting back the light, “You need to kill me before I kill you, because one day your sister might not be able to talk the monster out of me.”

Vax laid back on the bed with a quiet thump, the bed bouncing slightly as he stared sightlessly up at the ceiling and spat, sounding almost broken, “Fine, Percy. I’ll do it, damn you.”

Percy’s shoulders slumped, the tension leaving him at last. He hadn't wanted to do this to Vax, hadn’t wanted to burden him anymore than he already had, but this was important- more important than either of their feelings. 

The guilt, now a familiar garment, settled comfortably on his shoulders as he went to get ready for bed.

Keyleth made a noise for the tenth time and something in his mind snapped. He ground his teeth together, brain buzzing, something dark and angry filling his chest, a storm cloud thundering within his ribcage.

He was busy. Why couldn’t she see that he was busy? Why couldn’t she just be silent? He was forced to reread the page for the tenth time while the girl hummed, doing whatever it was that she was doing. 

This was why he’d preferred his room. But Scanlan, in some kind of ongoing prank war with Vax, had smoke bombed the room with some disgusting potion and now their shared quarters required quite a bit of fumigation. Percy had wisely relocated to a more central room for the time being. 

He’d been alright for a few minutes, until everyone had decided that they’d suddenly needed to be here to stick their noses in his business. They were all gone now save for the druid, but it was far too late. Every noise made him twitch, something searing his insides, painful and itchy. He longed to lash out- to sink his teeth into something, to ease the wildfire of his frustration. 

Keyleth’s humming pierced his skull again and he broke, growling, “Will you please shut up for more than a minute at a time? Some of us have important work to do.” He bristled, for a moment, the rage uncontainable, nails digging into his palms, the pain bringing a modicum of relief. 

He wanted to break something- to chuck the book at the wall, to throw the chair through the window, to pull his hair out and finally finally break out- break free of this prison. (What prison he didn’t know, but he couldn’t help the feeling of being trapped that constantly clawed at his mind. He was trapped and he needed to be freed and the fury bubbling within needed to be directed somewhere .) 

When the dust settled, the ringing in his ears fading and the fury melting into memory alone, he realized that the room was quiet. 

Blessed silence. 

He sighed, chest heaving, unable to concentrate any longer despite getting what he’d wanted. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to the table on the rough-soft paper of his book, hearing the rustle of cloth and silk, the humming gone silent. 

Guilt settled like a familiar blanket on his back and he winced, head pounding, “I apologize Keyleth. I didn’t- I didn’t mean-“ 

He groaned, lifting his head to press his hands to his face, pushing his glasses up to massage his aching eye sockets, “That came out wrong.” 

He sighed after another moment, head bowed, hands falling to rest between his knees, fingers laced, “I’m sorry. I’m just…” the words stuck in his chest and he cleared his throat, forcing them upwards, “Something is wrong, I think. With me. And I am…” his voice cracked- like him, like his head, “I am afraid.” 

She didn’t answer, eerily quiet and he needed to see her face- to see what she was thinking. He needed to see if she was… if she was afraid. 

He turned, heart falling as he realized where she’d sat was empty, flowers and vines gone, the clouds returned to blot out the sun. He swallowed and then hissed, running a hand down his face, cursing himself and his hasty temper, “Damn it.”

Keyleth was gone.

Percy sat at the table and tried to quell the uneasiness in his stomach. There was no reason for it in the first place, no reason to shatter the good mood that turned the air gold and bright and lovely. Vex and Vax were laughing, whispering to each other over their drinks, Grog and Pike and Scanlan already starting a drinking competition that would undoubtedly end with them unconscious on the floor. Keyleth beside him hummed happily, coaxing a flower to wakefulness, cheeks flushed with the heat of alcohol. 

All in all, it was fine. 

Perfect, even. 

So why was he so afraid? 

Perhaps it was because he couldn't shake his memories of a feast like this. He could still hear his father and mother laughing, full of love, see his brothers and sisters playing games with each other. He could feel Cassandra beside him, leaning over the table with glittering eyes- once again up to no good. 

(He could still see their faces contorting into surprise and fear and pain- still hear their raw voices, cries ripped from their throats with brutal pleasure.)

He hissed, pressing a hand to his forehead, grimacing, trying to ignore the memories of blood and gore and pain. They pulled at him, relentless, polluting the sweetness of the moment around him. 

“Percy?” Keyleth asked, cautious, gentle, pulling him back into the glorious present, “Are you alright?”

He opened his eyes, relief filling him at the sound of her voice, chasing the screams away. He turned to face her, the smile returning to his face, unbidden, “Yes, Keyleth, I’m fi-”

His breath stopped, eyes widening with horror. Keyleth smiled, tilting her head, grinning, a little confused but endearingly earnest as always, “Percy? What’s wrong?” 

Her eye was gone, skull shattered, bits of stringy meat hanging from her tattered face, eye socket corroded by an explosion, flesh charred, “Percy?”

The pepperbox shook in his hands, barrel smoking. He gasped, unable to breathe, the smoke clogging his lungs as Keyleth leaned inwards. Blood dripped down her cheek, brain matter coating her hair, smelling like salt and sweat and copper.

She pressed a hand to her face, resting her cheek in her hands and frowning at the wet on her fingers. She looked down, palm coated with blood and viscera.

She slowly lifted her eyes, meeting his, green against his blue. Her chest hitched with fear and horror, because of him .

Her smile was gone, replaced by a visceral terror, her features changing, flashing, Cassandra and Keyleth, his mother and father, blown apart by his hand, “ Percy, what did you do? ”

Percy stumbled back, whirling, the chair clattering on the tile. His hand shook, the pepperbox gleaming, and the others were standing, weapons raised, shouting, begging, pleading with him to stop. Percy tried, but his body refused to obey his commands. His lips laughed with a vicious delight, cheeks stained with tears. He raised his hand anyway, the malignant smog filling the room, stopping up his throat, his eyes, his ears.

Vex reached out, desperate, horrified, somehow still choosing to believe in him, “Percy, wake up! This isn’t you!”

He felt his mouth curl further into that warped smile, lips pulled back to reveal bloodstained teeth and gum. He fired, unable to scream or to warn them, unable to do anything but relish the satisfaction of watching Vex’s head blow open, splattering Vax with her blood. 

He couldn’t command it, could not move his arm, could not control where the damned thing was aimed, locked inside his flesh, wrath consuming him.

He couldn’t scream, could not beg for their forgiveness or grovel at their feet. He could only watch and burn, choking on the smoke within, the screams of his friends and his family mingling into one, his very flesh rotting with malevolence.

And Percy jolted awake, gasping, eyes wild as he fumbled for his glasses, jamming them onto his face as he tried to figure out where he was. 

It took him a moment to remember he was sharing a room with Vax now. He could hear the soft snores of the half-elf just across the room. 

Percy wiped his eyes, suddenly hating the tears that gathered there, poisonous and bitter. Their screams still rang in his ears, his past muddled with the murky present. He’d been a fool to think the nightmares would end after the Briarwoods defeat. It was a disgustingly optimistic thought and utterly unlike him. 

He sighed, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, resolving to go for a nightly walk.

In the darkness, he heard a shift and then a low groan of, “Percy, s’that you?”

Percy grimaced, bristling, tone brittle and sharp, “Go to sleep, Vax.” 

Vax muttered something, probably insulting, but still asleep enough for Percy not to pursue it. He sighed, hands braced on his knees before he stood and walked cautiously across the room, fumbling for the doorknob. 

He just needed some air to cool his head and the roiling anger in his veins. 

Yes, that was it. Some air would do him some good.

Percy woke up again, his neck cricked from the awkward manner in which he’d fallen asleep. He drifted for a moment, the air cold and sharp in his lungs, almost like ice. His nose and lips were numb, almost moist. Percy grimaced and blinked in the light, frowning as he shifted, trying to pull himself from the sleepy fog.

He wasn’t in the spare bed in Vax’s room. Hell, he wasn’t even in the keep. He was standing outside the building, in the courtyard, the early morning sun glowing pink, golden, and orange on the horizon.

He’d fallen asleep standing up. 

Percy turned, shivering. His hair was damp with dew, glasses fogged. 

How long had he been out here? He glanced down, lifting his feet. His knees popped and he hissed with pain, fingers twitching as he stumbled a step backwards. The grass was smashed flat, dry underneath the soles of his bare feet unlike the soft dew that glistened on stone and grass and clothes. He’d been standing here for quite some time. 

He had no recollection of even leaving Vax’s room after he’d returned to it sometime around one in the morning. He was dimly aware of his breath hitching, heart rate skyrocketing. His feet prickled, the dull ache sharpening, pins and needles cascading across his limbs as feeling returned. 

His legs were unbearably sore, back stiff, mouth dry. 

This was something undeniably unusual, almost frightening. This was something more.

Wasn’t it? He’d always been a restless sleeper but never one to actually move, to leave his bed and walk. 

Perhaps he had just started to sleepwalk. Out of the blue. 

He glanced up, heart dropping into his stomach as he realized he was under a familiar window.

Scanlan’s window. 

Fear gripped him tight. 

And then anticipation, longing, aching. His pepperbox was up there. 

He wanted it. 

He needed it.

Percy was leaning forward, hungry, ravenous, insatiable. He wanted his pepperbox back.

A mourning dove called, somewhere beyond the wall, long and low and sad, piercing the haze of want and need and rising fury in his mind. Like a spell had been broken, realization dawned.

He took one step back, another, and then he walked away, forcing himself to move faster, until he was running across the lawn, away from the window, the grass wet, sliding with each heavy footfall. 

He didn’t stop running until he was in his own room, the doorframe empty and yawning, away from Vax and Scanlan and the others. Away from that damned pepperbox. 

Percy slid down the wall until he hit the ground with a thump, fingers digging into his hair. Someone was laughing, he realized dimly. Raw and wounded and humorless, it hurt to hear it. 

He was laughing. 

Broken and shredded and scared, echoing off of the walls. 

(He’d known it was all too good to be true.)

The next few days passed like molasses. 

They were slowly making the keep their home. 

Or the others were. 

Percy kept to himself in Vax’s room and paced for hours, unable to quell the fear writhing in his lungs. He couldn’t come out, afraid they’d see the rage in his eyes, the way he was rotting from within. Afraid the sickness in his veins would taint them too, ashamed of the anger and hostility he wore like a glove. 

He couldn't stop thinking of the ways he could hurt them, how he could cut their skin from their bones and rend their souls from their flesh. He couldn't stop thinking about how easy it would be. He was ashamed of it, of the rage blistering in his lungs, of the thoughts that assaulted him in the night. He constantly turned to the mirror, terribly afraid he’d see the black smoke wafting from his skin, corrupting his flesh like a sickness. He never saw it, however, not even in the dark of night, as the bags under his eyes grew heavier. 

Whatever it was, it was only his imagination. This- this foul repugnant mood he had fallen into could not be some demon’s influence. He was fully aware when the anger flooded his mind, needy and intoxicating. These thoughts, disgusting as they were, were his own.

This was what he was. 

At most, it could only be merely a fragment- a memory- of Orthax pulling at his attention. He had quite thoroughly rejected the creature’s influence; he had even surrendered the weapon to Scanlan. It had no real hold on him.

(Right?)

Nevertheless, his fingers itched for the pepperbox, trigger finger twitching by his side until he clenched his hand and stuffed it into his pocket, trying to hide it from Vax’s prying eyes. 

He should tell them, he knew he should, but every time he opened his mouth, a sucking fear and heavy shame clamored loudly for his attention, curling around his throat and whispering in his ear, stilling his tongue.

(What if it was nothing? What if he was just imagining it? Did he really want to frighten them again? To watch them look at him with that disgust and fear and horror once more?) 

He knew they liked to say they weren’t afraid of him, but he could see it in their eyes, unspoken, whenever he came down for food. The worry and anxiety in their eyes- directed at him- as if they could sense the venom in his veins. It made him dread his mornings when he’d emerge from the room to eat, just enough to keep them off his back. 

The demon had not returned. 

He had revoked it. 

It was gone. 

After another particularly restless night, he found himself repeating the ceaseless pattern he'd fallen into, relentless and unforgiving. Something had to give soon, didn’t it? 

He shuffled down the stairs, half asleep still, eyes heavy. 

He paused before entering the kitchen, taking a deep breath to try and fortify himself for his companion’s usual exuberance. And then Scanlan spoke, interrupting his thoughts, loud and sudden, “The way he looks at me is creepy, Pike! Are you sure there’s nothing wrong with him?” 

He could hear Pike’s soothing tone, slightly chiding, a gentle reprimand, “Scanlan, Percy looks at everyone that way.” 

Percy froze, suddenly knocked awake, unable to enter as Scanlan scoffed in response, “Oh come on. He looks at me like he wants to murder me and take his stupid gun back.” 

There were loud murmurings and half-hearted protests, he could hear everyone in there- everyone but him. The cacophony was halted by Vax’s firm statement, lacking even a shred of doubt, “Actually, I think I agree with him.” 

Scanlan laughed, giddy, full of a triumphant glee, “Ha!”

Vax sighed, footsteps low and nearly silent as he moved across the room, sounding terribly worried, “Something is wrong with him.” 

Pike huffed, “We know that. But do you think it’s… you know… demon related?”

It was quiet for a moment, unbearably tense in the room before Vax spoke, soft, pained, “Maybe.” 

Vex’s voice was equally gentle and full of concern, “Are you sure brother?” 

“I’ve been sleeping in the same room with him for a week now,” Vax laughed, mirthless, “He… He says the most terrible things, sometimes.”

“Yeah,” asked Grog, genuinely confused, “But doesn’t he always do that?”

Vax snorted, wry, “Not like this, buddy. This is- is weird. Wrong. He talks like he's going to die. And… and sometimes I wake up and he’s gone. Trust me, no one is getting up to anything good at two in the morning.” 

The kitchen was silent but Percy had heard enough. He backed away, away from his spying friends, away from their poisonous lies, away from the betrayal lingering behind his ribs. He shoved his hands into his pockets, fingers aching. 

How dare they?

How dare they violate his space in such a manner?

They knew nothing. 

He was fine. Fine-ish. But he was taking care of it. 

And they had the audacity to spy on him. 

To watch his every move- as if he was some thing to be controlled, a pet on a leash.

And they called themselves his friends?

He never should've trusted them, never should’ve trusted Vex’ahlia. He, out of all people, had seen many a shopkeeper charmed by her perfect lips and her dark eyes and the soothing voice she deployed to calm a distrustful heart. 

He should’ve shot her when he had the chance. He would not make that mistake again.

He was fine and they were all fools. 

There was nothing- nothing- nothing… 

His footsteps, egged on by a dark rage, had taken him to Scanlan’s room. 

Percy swallowed, eyes wide, wrath doused by fear and horror.

He wanted the pepperbox.

He needed to have it, must have it. And if they stood in his way, he would not hesitate to take care of them in order to meet his goals. 

Percy stepped back, something fighting within, a voice in his head beating against the walls he’d thrown up, begging, pleading with him to open his mouth. 

He didn’t know how long he stood there, locked in place, fighting a losing battle, waging a doomed war, the sweat trickling down his back making him shake.

He blinked and the shadows shifted across the walls, as if he’d fallen asleep standing.

“Percy?”

He turned, eyes wide, breath hitching as he saw Keyleth standing there, fingers curled around her staff, unsure, “You okay?” 

Percy’s breath stuttered, mouth disconnected from his mind, “I- I-“ her brows furrowed with worry and the thing in his chest roiled, screaming for violence, to force her to open the door so that he could take what was rightfully his back.

He licked his lips, trembling with the effort it took to say, “I don’t think I am.”

His whole body felt heavy like lead, his limbs and coat weighing him down, like chains on his wrists, feet dragging as Keyleth helped set him down on a chair by the kitchen table. The wood didn’t feel real beneath his fingertips, the words of the other’s low and hushed as Keyleth murmured to them- whispering, always whispering, about how he was defective, a problem, a poison. 

(Were they wrong? Even now, cruelty lingered on his lips as he struggled to stay in the present.

What was he doing again?)

The wood itched, strange against his palms and he shoved them into his heavy heavy pockets, trying to stop the constant dulled sensations spreading like a flame across his ill-fitting skin, prickling and uncomfortable. 

Vex’s voice knocked him out of his reverie, eyes soft, a hand on his shoulder (when had the others come forward?), “Percival, darling, what’s wrong?” 

He opened his mouth, blinking, tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. Vex’s raven-black hair curled around her soft cheeks, loose for once in the privacy of their home, her dark eyes full of warmth and understanding. He suddenly felt trapped, pinned like a bug beneath her gaze, no secrets beneath those probing eyes and inkstained lashes, dark as the night sky above yet blessedly cool. 

Keyleth clung to her staff, cheek resting on the top, waiting, antlers shining in the sunlight filtering from the windows, amber hair blowing in a wind that seemed focused only around her. Behind her Scanlan leaned on the table, eyes narrowed with suspicion, lips pressed into an annoyed pout. Pike and Grog were absent but that was probably because they both liked to exercise together at this time of the day. 

Vax reclined languidly against the wall behind the group, his arms folded, eyes hooded, posture deceptively lazy and nonchalant.

Percy desperately needed to tell him something. He couldn't remember what it was, mind smearing like wet condensation over murky glass, his reflection obscured, memories made of peeling paint and shattered metal. 

Percy opened his mouth and closed it, teeth clicking. He managed one strangled, helpless plea of, “ Vax- ” before his throat closed up again. Something was deeply wrong, but he didn't know what . 

He couldn’t seem to think, to concentrate, to clear his head of fog.

Vex frowned as Vax glanced up, alert. Percy’s hand in his right pocket touched metal. He hadn’t remembered putting anything in it and he certainly hadn’t been working on any projects lately, too consumed by fear and worry, his normally calming inspiration ripped from him.

So what could possibly…? 

…He had , however, just been outside of Scanlan’s room. He had stood there for who knows how long, missing time.

Missing everything.

For a single shining moment, clarity at last won out. He knew exactly what his fingers brushed, what had been nagging at him this entire time. His lapses in memory, the anger burbling like venom in his veins, the violence of his dreams- stupid, stupid, stupid.

And much too late.

His fingers curled around a familiar metal and wood handle and he knew, then, that it was over. He’d failed before he’d even begun, he had lost the war before he’d even known he was in a battle. He choked, hoping that at least he would have this last dark victory, helpless, afraid, wishing he’d had a little more time, “Vax, you know what to do.”

Vax’s eyes, still locked with his, widened with understanding. 

Scanlan scoffed, hands on his hips, missing the importance of their exchange, thoroughly unimpressed, “What does that mean?”

( Oh, but he was about to be impressed. That stupid look was about to be wiped off his smug face in the most satisfactory manner. Percy couldn’t wait. )

Vex placed her hands on her hips, clearly not liking whatever she saw in his face, glancing at her twin carefully, taking note of his suddenly tense posture and horrified eyes, “Yes, what does that mean, brother?”

Vax shifted, the most minute of movements, and Percy jerked upwards, surging to his feet, the chair clattering backwards as he stood.

The pepperbox glittered in his hands, beautiful and deadly as he snarled, feeling the intoxicating rage rise up, the smoke filling the room, voice strained with need, “Vax, damn you, move! Do it now! Please!”

Scanlan shrieked, stumbling away, “Oh shit, he’s got the fucking gun-!”

Keyleth yelped, arms pinwheeling as she flailed backwards, Vax’s arm wrenched back for a throw he had yet to make, his knife in hand. Percy knew damn well that he was faster than this- he was hesitating- and for what? Had he miscalculated? 

Vex threw out her arms, calming him like he were a wild animal, honeyed words soothing his soul like a balm, a gentle caress, “Percy, you can fight this-!”

He could hear it- hear the thing feasting on his soul hiss, “ Oh, we can’t let the bitch get another chance, can we? ” 

Percival couldn’t scream, couldn’t even warn them, nightmare made real. He could feel the tears blurring his eyes, feel the smoke tugging at his mind, the fury hot and inviting. He’d given it up, he’d given it up- it shouldn’t still be here . 

“ You made a pact, ” hissed the devil on his shoulder, the thing that had burrowed itself into his very soul, heavy and violating, making him sick, making him wail with horror, “ You’re done when I say we’re done. ” 

The pepperbox was aimed squarely at Vex, perfectly lined up with her forehead, prepared to blow apart her brilliant mind and steady judgment- but she didn't move, didn't even flinch. She’d been here before, staring down the same demon- and she’d won.

But he knew this time that he was going to fire. He knew it deep in his bones.

The bullet was inevitable, just like in his nightmares. Orthax would not let him miss again, it would not give them the chance to pull him back.

Vax was still waiting, watching, holding his blow. Why didn’t he see the danger his sister was in? They all were in? How could he still see something worth preserving? Surely he hated him twice as much now for the horror he was putting them all through once again. 

And yet, Vax stayed his hand, eyes calculating, following his sister’s lead. 

Percy knew then, he could see it. Vax wasn’t going to stop him in time- choosing foolish faith and sentimentality over sensibility. Vax was going to wait, to strike too late, and they were going to die. There was no way to get out of this, he was going to pull the trigger, he knew it with unquestionable certainty. 

But he could still move his arm, he could still aim, still pick the trajectory. The demon had not thought that through, had not closed that door. He had one chance before it realized, before it corrected its mistake and sealed their fates. 

His finger twitched, pressing down, and he jerked it upwards. 

The metal was cold against his hot skin, the pulsebeat of his neck thrumming against the barrel as he finally, at last, let go and stopped resisting. He let the demon fire the pepperbox as it wanted, but with a different target- into his own skull. 

There was an explosion, pain- but less than expected, screams ringing from inside his head and within the room. He was on the floor, writhing, hands on his chest as he clawed at his throat, something ripping the gun from his fingers- and then a shout, something more than the wordless howls piercing the smoke, “Misfire!” 

It was Scanlan, half-hysterical, incredulous, “The fucking thing misfired! Oh holy shit-”

Percy writhed, hands pressing against his neck as he gasped and coughed, and then- something hard slammed against his head, and the heat of failure and despair was replaced by blissful darkness.

Keyleth’s hands were pressed over her mouth, eyes filled with tears, fingers trembling against her freckled cheeks. Scanlan clung to her side, fingers digging into her green tunic, terrified eyes wide.  

Vex, straddling Percy, was still holding the smoking gun that she had just bashed the man over the head with. She’d thrown herself forwards when he’d changed into that monstrous dark shadow- his back arching from the force of the explosion, screeching wordlessly as he fell to the ground with a voice that must've come from the depths of the nine hells. His blackened fingers had clawed at his neck after the shot had been fired, the pepperbox flung away like it burned him- which it could have since Percy had fucking shot himself . 

Or tried to shoot himself before fate had intervened. 

Vex, still running on adrenaline and chest heaving, turned to face her brother. Her eyes narrowed, hair mussed, face streaked with panicked tears, “What the actual fuck was that, brother?”

Vax, knife in hand, stuttered, almost guilty, “I- I-” he glanced down at his hands and then grimaced, voice sour, “Why are you asking me ?”

Vex glowered but before she could pry more, Keyleth whimpered, shaking, “What do we do you guys? The- the demon- he- it- he’s not gone , is he?” 

Vax flipped his knife, sheathing it smoothly, words firm and brittle, “No, Kiki, he’s not,” He lifted his chin, jaw set, “We tie him up.”

Scanlan spluttered, still half hiding behind the druid, “But- but what about the fucking demon? Ropes aren’t going to stop that crazy ass shit!” 

Vax whirled on the gnome, snarling, eyes glittering with moisture, “We. Tie. Him. Up. He’s not dead yet, Scanlan. And we’re not going to give up on the pompous bastard until we get some sort of exorcist in here to get the fucking thing out of him.”

Vex broke his tirade, cautious, wary of the rage in his tone, “Brother-”

Vax’s shoulders hunched at her voice, hands curling into fists as he retorted sharply, defensive, “We’re not killing him.”

Vex’s lips twisted, something knowing in her eyes, “I never said anything about killing him. No one did… Except you.”

Vax didn't move, spine stiff, and Vex sighed, the pepperbox sparking in her hands as she tossed it on the table, “Scanlan, go get Grog,” She hoisted one of Percy’s arms around her shoulders, dragging the limp man up with her, his deadweight too akin to a corpse in her arms, “I think it’s time we had a talk with Percy’s little companion.”

Percy had failed, he had failed and now he was back, trapped in that dark shadowed place, his flesh burning up, crisping like food thrown in the fire. Orthax laughed in his ear, reverberating in his bones, “ Here we are again, Percival. Isn’t this delightful? ” 

He whirled, the smoke gathering around his legs, fogging from his throat, like venom billowing from his lips, “Where am I? Let me go!” 

“Hm, ” for a moment, the shadows roiled, a blazing eye surfacing to turn slitted, delighted, relishing its answer, “ No. ” 

Percy grit his teeth, heart hammering in his throat as he took another step forwards, deeper into the sea of fog and mist, “You have no hold on me-“ 

His knees slammed into the ground. He caught himself before he fell further, trembling with the effort it took to stay upright. The tendrils of smoke had thickened like chains, the demon laughing around him, a hundred thousand voices hissing and whispering like a crackling fire, “ You sold your soul. I own you, Percival. ” 

Percy grit his teeth, knowing that it spoke the truth. His blood and bone belonged to it, tainted by dark malevolence, never to be clean again. But he knew that already, he didn’t need to be told that again, “You don’t own them. You don’t own Vox Machina. They’ll kill me soon and then whatever it is you have planned will be useless.” 

“I wouldn’t put too much faith in your little family. They’re Vox Machina, after all. They fuck shit up. ” Percy blinked the sweat out of his eyes as the thing’s voice curdled like old milk, like the raging storm on a hot summer’s day, the ash and cinders of a burnt home, the smoke thickening around him, “ Who’s to say I have not already killed them with your hands? ” 

The world flashed and suddenly he could see, see the others, his mind shoved back into his body with a force that sent him stumbling.

He couldn’t breathe, blinking, unable to comprehend the bloody mess he witnessed.

It was a monstrous scene- limbs pierced and blooded, hacked to bits of flesh and bone, blood splattering his hands, his cheeks. He could taste copper and salt in his mouth, feel the rawness in his bloodied fingers. 

Orthax sighed, mocking, savoring the brutal scene before them, it’s bulk looming over his shoulder, ashy feathers warming his back somehow both bitterly cold and fiercely hot, “ Vax watched his sister die and cursed your name with his dying breath. It was rather touching. Perhaps I should have made a pact with him. ” 

“You lie!” Percy tried to wrench himself from the shadows that held him down, the world blurring, “He would have killed me first- he would have-“ but he had seen the hesitation, the fear, something unspoken staying his hand. 

Vax would not have struck first. None of them would have- not until it was too late. And he knew why, he knew why and he could feel it shattering him again and again. They were all so good, so full of love- and he had destroyed them for it. 

The thing chuckled in his ear, “You called me here. This is what you wanted Percival- “ and he felt it twist his head, force him to look upon the gruesome sight. Vex with her perfect eyes gone, red lips flayed over bone, laughing Keyleth and her jaw fractured- ripped apart by fire and metal. Vax slumped by his sister, eyes open and unseeing, his neck torn open, blood coating the floor. Scanlan bled from holes in his chest, Grog’s knees shot out, legs broken, skull shattered. Pike was crumbled by him, torn and shredded like the rest, by his own hand. Even Trinket had not been spared, fur fluttering and matted with blood, “I must say, I couldn’t have done it better myself. ” 

Percy couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, their blood on his hands. 

“ Isn’t it tragic? To lose both of your families to such an untimely end,” its voice dug into his mind, burning, “ Perhaps you’re cursed, Percival. Perhaps you’re poison. ” 

Percy couldn’t move, the shadows locking him in place, tearing him open, spilling his hot blood, flaying him alive, “ Now, who’s next on our list? ” 

Percy closed his eyes, burning, ashes to ashes and dust to dust, as he screamed, folding inwards, raw and wounded. 

Broken. 

Vex crouched before Percy’s knees, distaste for the restraints thick on her tongue like acid and bile. The heavy iron manacles they’d found in storage were ugly, hanging off of wrist and neck and ankle. If Percy woke, she’d gladly take his complaining about their dramatics over the creature she was about to talk to. Though, knowing Percy, he’d be the one insisting on such precautions. The thought was almost enough to make her laugh- and definitely enough to make her want to weep. 

As it was, Grog’s heavy hands held the chair in place, silent and unsure now that one of their own was trussed up like a criminal, the manacles still glowing faintly from when Pike had blessed them. 

She hoped against everything telling her otherwise that Percy would open his eyes of his own accord. She hoped that they would be of the clearest blue and not burning with hatred- with that demonic heat. 

But Percy did not open his eyes. He remained slumped, still, and, for all intents and purposes, an almost corpse.  

The others, at least, were behind her. They made for a steady welcoming presence at her back, reassuring against the darkness.  

Scanlan muttered quietly into the silence, “What do we do now?” 

Vex laced her fingers together around the gun, clearing her throat and hoping that this would work, “Well? Do you want the pepperbox?” She held it up, dangling it within reach of the man. 

Even though she’d been expecting it, he still moved fast enough to surprise her, to cause her to flinch, teeth gnashing, smoke billowing, eyes flaring bright and orange. He jerked to a stop just shy of her, chains rattling, strained, pulled taut, Grog’s grip was firm on the back of the chair. 

She could hear Keyleth’s soft, startled, “Oh shit…” behind her. At least she hadn’t been the only one caught off guard.  

Vex’s lips twitched, heart hammering, trying to take control of the situation, “Hello. Orthax, was it?”

The thing hissed, head cocking, Percy’s shock of white hair falling into its blazing eyes, lips curling over sharp teeth into a painfully stretched grin. Its voice mingled with his, rasping like sandpaper, like nails on a chalkboard, “ Vox Machina. So lovely to meet you again. ”

Behind him Grog gasped, incredulous, “It knows us!”

“Of course, I know you, ” snapped the thing wearing Percy’s face, tone tantalizingly familiar to Percy’s knowitall manner, “ I’ve always been here. Watching, listening, ” it licked its lips, the expression disconcerting, “ Feeding. He is quite the feast… His hatred, his pain… ”

“Yes, well,” snorted Vex, unamused by its words, something like rage blooming in her chest, shaking with fury at the violation, “Not for very much longer.”

How dare it so much as touch him? How dare it?

It growled low in its throat, fixating on her and the pepperbox in her hand, its movements sharp and jerky, as if yanking Percy’s body around on a leash, “ I’m afraid not. His soul is mine. He gave it to me long ago and now he is mine to consume. ”

“Eugh,” Scanlan made a gagging noise, “That’s one gross leech.”

“ I am far more than a leech, gnome ,” It twisted Percy’s lips into a smile, skin splitting, amber eyes glittering in the pits of its darkened sclera, “ Do you know what Percy really thinks of you? Keyleth, such a pitiable figure. He has a soft spot for you- so much like his dear dead sisters, ” it dipped low and for a moment and Vex could’ve sworn it was Percy that spoke, “ His new family. But he doesn't have any real faith in you, you know. It’s all lies. He knows, deep down, you’ll never complete your Aramenté. ”

Keyleth’s breath hitched and its grin widened. Vex realized it had done that on purpose, its words meant to cut, to wound, to drive them further away, to dangle what they had lost just out of their reach. 

Its eyes flicked to Vax next, relishing in the hurt, “ And you… The brother he’s always thought of you as but never quite been able to voice. Oh, he knows how much you hate him for endangering them. And he relishes it, welcomes it- needs it to remind him of the monster he truly is. Percival always has been one for self flagellation, hasn’t he? But you failed him in the end, when it really mattered, didn’t you? ” 

Its voice rasped, almost a singsong, grinding like gravel underfoot, “ You failed him in every possible way, his final request. So easy to fulfill. He thought you could do it, thought you disliked him enough. But he was wrong, wasn’t he? You care too much, always have Vax’ildan, ” The half elf flinched, face pale as it continued, driving the dagger deeper, words festering like a poison, “ Death would have been a mercy in comparison to what I am doing to him now- ”

“Enough,” snapped Pike, stepping forwards, eyes flaring like the sun itself, powerful, protective, and radiant, “Get out of him.”

“ You can do nothing here, pawn of the Everlight, ” it cackled, leaning forwards, uncaring of how the metal dug into Percy’s throat, the shadow of the great monster digging its claws into his shoulders, flaming eyes looming, reflecting back fire and ice and rage, “ Even if you killed me now, you’d burn him up with me. No matter what you do, he’s mine, mine, m i n e. And where I go, he goes. I will take his soul with me. I have burrowed too deep, devoured too much- ”

“Hey,” Vex grabbed his chin then, gentle even as she forced it to look at her and only her, voice deceptively soft, “Eyes on me.”

It chuckled, low and smooth, almost like a caress, a horrific imitation of Percy’s all too rare laugh, “ Oh Vex’ahlia, ” it breathed, giddy, “ He always has his eyes on you .”

She hadn't expected that, her lips parting as it chuckled, breath ghosting over her fingertips, eyes glittering in Percy’s face, brows furrowing in a mockery of his usual sadness, “ What could’ve been is always the most haunting of all, isn't it? Those pesky little what-ifs, more potent than any heartbreak. ”

Vex’s eyes hardened, cold steel, “So that’s it? You’re in there with him and there’s no way to get you out? Even though Percy fought you off before?”

“ Percy, ” snickered the thing, the shadow on the wall growing with its words, that terrifying bird creature warping, looming over all of them, maw dripping with dark oil that steamed and hissed, “Made his pact long ago. He forged the weapon, traded his soul for revenge, for names on the list. He will never be free. I will always be in the back of his mind, twisting him until he is no longer the man you knew,” Its eyes glowed like hot coals, full of a fiery malevolence, “He could feel it, feel me, feel my strength returning. Oh, he tried to tell you so many times. But none of you noticed- too used to his anger to realize it wasn’t him speaking, ” It cocked Percy’s head, exposing the blackened bruising burn on his chin from the misfire, “ Or perhaps, that really was all him. Perhaps I didn't have to do much at all. ” 

Vex let go of his cheek then, standing, stepping away. Her lips curved upwards, trembling, “Thank you. That helped quite a lot, actually.”

It blinked, its confusion intensely satisfying, “ What? ”

She turned the pepperbox over in her hands, thoughtful, their dulled names still carved on the barrel, “Grog, do you think you could destroy this?”

Grog grinned, toothy, eyes alight, “Could I? I thought you'd never ask!”

The thing lunged, the chains pulled tight as Vex raised an unimpressed eyebrow, its voice rumbling like a shrill thunder, crackling like fire or the report of the pepperbox itself, “ Don’t touch that- ”

Vex smirked, interest sparkling in her eyes, all her indecision evaporating, “Really? My, you seem quite desperate about that.”

She passed it to the goliath, his face lighting up with anticipation, horror filling the demon’s eyes- Percy’s eyes, “ No! Stop-! ” It whirled to face her, lashing out, spitting, Percy’s face twisted into a grotesque expression, almost splitting at the seams, “ I’ll kill him. I’ll rip his mind apart, you’ll be left with nothing- nothing. A broken husk of a creature consumed by hatred and revenge. He’ll always bear my mark, he’ll always be mine. He’ll never know peace- never experience redemption- never know love- ” 

Vex leaned forward, meeting its barred teeth with a smile that could have made men bleed, unafraid of the sharpness of the thing’s anger. She took Percy’s head in her hands, searching the face contorted by rage and pain, brows softening as she looked upon his beloved visage contorted by an imposter, “I’m afraid you’re far too late on that front.” 

Her breath ghosted across his lips as she leaned forward, the creature’s eyes locked with hers, quivering with fear, her fingers digging into the nape of his neck, “Percival isn’t yours. He’s ours .” 

The pepperbox crunched in Grog’s hands and the thing howled, Vex closing her eyes and pulling his head to her collarbone, refusing to flinch as the smoke left him, pouring from his mouth and eyes, expelled at last. 

Whirling and screaming, it whipped past her hair and clothes, the foul sulfur gathering at the roof before exploding outwards with one last screech, finally gone forever.  

Percy slumped forwards, head on her shoulder, shuddering against the restraints. Vex shushed him quietly, carding her fingers through his hair, “Shhh, it’s alright now, darling, we’ve got you now. We’ve got you.” 

Pike stepped up, her hands glowing, letting them fall after a moment, her smile faint, “It’s gone. Whatever it is, it’s really gone.” 

Scanlan slumped, hands on his knees, gasping with relief, “Oh thank fuck.” 

Grog grunted and then dropped the broken pepperbox on the ground. He hummed and then, after another contemplative moment, stomped on it, grinding the pieces into dust, “Stupid demons.”

Keyleth patted his arm, looking worn and tired, “Yeah, you said it, Grog.” 

Vax stepped forward, swinging the keys in his hand, releasing their wayward gunslinger carefully, wincing at the red lining Percy’s wrists. Vex nodded at him, helping untangle the rest of the iron and discarding it on the floor beside them with a clatter. Vax kept his touch light as he unbound the manacles, fingertips ghosting over skin.  

“Percy,” Vex’s voice was soft, quiet, clearly still trying to figure out what to do now. It was strange to see her so unsure, the man shuddering, gasping into her shoulder. If she didn’t know better, she would say her jacket was quietly being wet with tears, “Are you alright?” 

After a moment, he spoke, voice muffled and low, aching with weariness, “Surely the answer is obvious?” 

Scanlan held his hands up in the air, his attempt at good humor still weak, “Hey, there he is! Percival Dickwad Von Fancypants De Rolo.” 

The low chuckle from Percy was surprising enough. He pushed himself up, eyes swollen and bloodshot, chin scabbed and burnt from where he’d tried to end his own life not even an hour before, voice hoarse from his screams but colored with good humor and real affection, too raw for them to bear, “Scanlan, you really are a bastard.” 

Vex smiled, sad, rising from her knees to her feet, hands hovering by his shoulders, “There you are, darling. Good to have you back with us.” 

Percy coughed, running a hand down his face, unable to look at her, gaze carefully averted, “Good… Good to be back,” He pushed himself out of the chair, wavering unsteadily.

Pike stopped him, a hand on his hip, “Wait, let me.” Her eyes glowed, her palm glittering with the power of the Everlight. This time Percy did not flinch away from her magic, slumping with something like solace. His split lips, bruised jaw, and burnt chin vanished, washed away, flesh made new.

She stepped back, bright, and Percy nodded in thanks, tired from the ordeal of the past few weeks. 

Keyleth, clutching her staff like a lifeline, jumped forward, pulling him up by the elbow, Vex by his other side as the druid spoke, “C’mon, you haven’t had breakfast yet, right?” She laughed nervously, “Well, I- I make a mean pancake!” 

Percy couldn’t meet her eyes, smile fixed in place, a painfully weak facade that they could all easily see through, “I don’t know, Keyleth. That… that took a lot out of me. I think- I think I’ll just turn in early.” 

Keyleth’s face fell, unsure, shifting uneasily, “Oh! O- oh yeah I guess… I guess I wouldn’t really wanna socialize after that either.” 

Percy nodded, soft, “Thank you, Keyleth.” 

She watched him, careful, sad, sincere, “Of course, Percy. Anytime.” 

Vex took his arm, gentle, “Well then. Shall we?”

He stared at her, taken aback and confused, face coloring, the expression reassuring them that he truly was back, that he was himself, “I beg your pardon?”

She blinked, guileless and Vax started, following her lead easily, “Oh! Yes!” He nudged Keyleth's shoulder, “I think it's time we all retire for the day, yes?” 

He yawned pointedly and Percy frowned, eyes flicking from him to his sister, “You must be joking.”

“I am most certainly not,” snapped Vex, her tone brooking no argument, “We are all going to bed. We all need the sleep. Come, Percy, Scanlan .”

The gnome, who’d clearly also been unable to catch her hint, laughed nervously, “Well, who am I to ignore an invitation to bed?”

“If you try anything,” Vex’s eyes narrowed, tone withering, “You will wake up one day and find yourself suddenly unable to perform in bed, understand me?”

He squeaked, “Yes ma’am.”

Percy sat where they’d left him, on the edge of Vax’s spare bed, his face in his hands. He hadn’t noticed until his head was clear how much his mind had become fogged by Orthax’s influence. He hardly remembered the last few days. He was so very foolish, a bigger idiot than Scanlan. 

And he couldn’t stop feeling the phantom pain of the creature cutting into him, couldn’t stop seeing the faces of his family brutalized by his hand.

He glanced up at the grunt by the door, his brows furrowing with confusion. He spluttered as Grog dragged in what looked to be a mountain of pillows and blankets into Vax’s room, “Whatever are you doing?” 

Grog grinned, excited, “Cuddle pile!”

Percy squawked, “W- what? Whatever for-? Who- what-”

“Oh, Percy,” Grog winced, dropping the bundle on the ground like an offering, “You don’t sound too good. Pike was right, you definitely need it.”

“I- I most certainly do not - I don’t - I- oh fuck me,” Percy gave up, Grog clearly content to ignore him, humming happily as he began spreading the pillows and blankets into what seemed to be, admittedly, a very cozy nest. 

After a moment he tried again, half heartedly, “This is Vax’s room. You’ve got to ask him, you know.”

There was a grunt and then Vax stumbled into the room, more pillows in his arms, “Don’t worry, Freddy, I gave him my blessing.” He let them fall with a whumpf and then he turned, eyes gleaming. Percy suddenly knew fear as Vax’s smile widened, “C’mon now, you know what's happening here. Get in.”

“ Absolutely not- ”

Vax crossed his arms with a scoff, “Oh, don't be such a prick-”

“Boys,” snapped Vex, standing in the doorway, “Why don’t you two quit it and be helpful,” she blew a strand of hair out of her face, “Percy, darling, we need to hang these,” she held up a few blankets, “Come on, make yourself useful- you too, Vax .”

Vax snorted, muttering under his breath, “I was being useful, Stubby, thank you very much.”

Percy straightened his rumpled vest, trying to appear dignified as he took the blankets from her arms, the heat rising in his cheeks. 

In a few moments, they’d created a rather spectacular fortress of comfort. Blankets lined the walls, hanging from the beds and carpeting the floors. Pillows were spread in various comfortable spots on the mattresses they had pulled off of the bed to the ground. Keyleth had returned with dancing lights, filling their makeshift tent with twinkling globes of white light, a comfortable warmth filling the room. 

Grog had settled into the fort with a contented sigh and a, “Now this is the life.” 

Pike had joined him not long after, nestling against his side with a book, her head resting against his massive bicep. Scanlan had said his usual barrage of innuendos and received the normal amount of glares before Pike had dragged him down to rest his head on her lap. That had shut him up, her fingers carding through his hair as she read from her book, content. 

Keyleth had grabbed various treats from the kitchen, muffins and chocolates she’d been squirreling away. Vax had taken one, hopped onto the ground, and patted the floor beside him with a soft, “C’mon, Kiki.”

Keyleth had followed, vines and flowers lining the room, beautiful and bright, curling around bed posts and dressers. Vex had shoved Percy after her, watching him stumble to rest beside Vax at the center of their group, before she followed, sandwiching herself between him and Grog. Trinket curled up at her feet, effectively blocking the door. 

Legs and arms tangled together, the world shrunk to encompass just this room, only these people. It was the most comfortable Percy had been in weeks and it made something crack open inside his chest, warm and gooey and unbearably soft. It was far too much. 

He twitched, Vex’s head on his shoulder, and he cleared his throat, choking on the apologies he wanted, no, needed to speak, “I don’t- I-”

Vax stared at him, as if he'd been waiting for him to talk, Keyleth as well, her auburn hair cascading down her back in shimmering waves. He managed, finally, “I must apologize to you all, for-”

Scanlan groaned, “Oh, shut up, Percy,” he whined pitiously, “Pike’s thighs are much too nice to be ruined by your angsting.” 

Vex suppressed a laugh and Percy glared at him, disbelieving, “You cannot seriously be amused Scanlan, by the fact that this is the second time in the span of a very short period that I have tried to murder you all?” 

Scanlan laughed wryly, “Same old, same old,” at the same time as Vax snorted, leaning back on his side, “No, why? Does it bother you?”

Percy blinked, running a hand through his shock of white hair, almost offended, “Yes, very much so! I have tried to- to kill you all, twice. I have sold my soul up the river for bloody revenge. I have hurt you more times than I can count. This- this is- this is-” he could still see their faces, mutilated in his mind, by his hand.

Didn’t they see? Couldn’t they see what he was? 

Keyleth’s voice was quiet, brows furrowed with a softness, a knowing, that made his vision blur, “More than you deserve?”

He swallowed, tongue thick in his mouth, voice hoarse and cracked, raw, “...Yes.”

Pike made a soft noise in the back of her throat and Vex opened her mouth to speak, to soothe, but Vax beat her to it, lips curved upwards, “Oh shut up, Freddy, you really are the smartest most thick-headed idiot in Exandria.”

He leaned forward, watching Percy stare at him, uncomprehending, as he took his face in his hands and pressed a soft chaste kiss to his forehead, disregarding the horror of him as if he was somehow worthwhile, “We love you, now deal with it.”

Percy’s breath hitched, trembling, before he closed his eyes with a wince, breaking again and again, but this time with someone there to catch his broken pieces, “You really shouldn't.”

Vax pressed their foreheads together, closing his eyes, “I never said we should,” his lips pulled into an impossibly fond smile, “But we are a family.” 

He felt Percy shudder and then relax, boneless. He guided the shaking man’s head into his shoulder, gentle, letting him breathe.

Vex met her brother’s eyes, something dark there, something bittersweet as she finished her brother’s thought, her hand on his back, warming Percy’s cold bones, their presence thawing him for the first time in years, “And families stick together.”