Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In hindsight, Bennett should've expected this would happen.

Really, how had he let himself believe his day would finally not be plagued with bad luck for a change?

His day had started off relatively normal, the only difference being he didn't wake up by falling head first off his loft like he normally did, and the breakfast he made for himself and his dads wasn't burnt around the edges for once.

Honestly, that should have been when he noticed something was off.

He had left the house that morning with a prep in his step, and made his way over to the Adventures guild to collect his daily commissions from Katherine. He didn't even have a rock fall on his head from out of nowhere, or trip and knock his forehead on the stone street on his way there!

He had a small chat with Katherine, the women as kind as always, before he set off beyond the city walls to complete his commission.

They were all relatively easy ones today: Help someone find a key they are lost the day before, clear out a small hilichurl camp, stop an Abyss Mage that was casting some suspicious spell, and finally defeat a ruin guard spotted near a ruin. OK, so, maybe those last two ones weren't the easiest, but he'd done many like them before without getting hurt to bad, so he wasn't worried.

He had completed the first and second commission extremely quickly, and with no issues what so ever! The key had been very easy to locate, and the Hilichurl camp had no more then 5 Hilichurl occupying it, not a Samachurl or Mitachurl in sight!

Surprisingly, Bennet had found the third commission hadn't been difficult either. He had managed to take the Cryo Abyss Mage off guard, and was able to get a good two hits in before it activated its shield, but he was able to break it clearly by infusing his sword with Pyro—thanks to his vision—and then the Mage itself was taken care of quickly. The Hilichurl that had been assisting the Abyss Mage then followed.

When he had finally tracked down the ruin guard, he had found it was already injured, sparks flying from its left arm, which hung limping at its side, throwing off its balance. He didn't even allow himself to question just how he had gotten so lucky seeing as he was, well, him! He had charged forward, infusing his sword with Pryo as he struck it, aiming for its singular glowing eyes. Somehow, his hit had landed, and exactly where he wanted it to! He had kicked off the now deactivated Ruin guard, his action knocking it down to the ground in a flurry of sparks and smoke.

Feeling giddy off his quick victory, and his strange newfound luck—that he had stubbornly refused to question for whatever reason—Bennett decided to take a rest before returning to the City to collect his rewards.

He had wondered around for a short while, until he had found one of the many firepits fitted with a cooking pot scattered all through Mondstat, one that was in great condition. Normally the ones he found had dented and rusted pots, or just didn't have one at all.

He sat himself and his gear infront of the firepit, and with a flick of his index finger lit the stick and leaves underneath the pot ablaze. He didn't even set any of the grass on fire!

He then unhooked the cooking pot and placed it to the side, not needing it for what he planned to make, and pulled out a skewer, a piece of fowl and two mushrooms. He stabbed the peices of food onto the wooden skewer, and then hovered it over the fire to let it cook.

He hummed to himself as the watched the fire lick at the mushroom and chicken skewer, steadily cooking it while he allowed himself to relax. He could hear the bird singing in the background, the wind rustling the leaves of the trees, and—by far his favourite sound—the crackling of the fire before.

He didn't know why he loved the sound so much, but he guessed it was because he was the bearer of a pryo vision, so it kind of made sense that he enjoyed the noise. And the sight. Fire was just so pretty to look at, so mesmerising. Watching the oranges, Yellows and red mingle as the fire danced and twisted, releasing embers that cooled down into ashes as they were carried off by the winds..

It was a weird thing to have an interest about—but then again, when he had told Sir Kaeya about it, he had said he liked the look of ice, and he had an cyro vision. So maybe it really did have something to do with his vision..

Thinking of Sir Kaeya, Bennett suddenly remembered something—they were supposed to train later today! He loved training with Kaeya! Even if he always messed up his footwork and ended up tripping, or his sword would go flying out of his hands when he swung it—he had fun! And Kaeya never got mad at him, either. He'd always laugh it off, or check to make sure he wasn't hurt. Bennett never really understood why—everyone else would curse him up and down if his badluck happened anywhere around them, but Sir Kaeya never seemed to care.

It was.. nice. Honestly, he didn't mind it when everyone got mad at him for being Mondstats 'Bad Luck Charm', he was used to it. And everyone was right—his bad luck was a nuisance, and annoying. But Kaeya.. him not caring was nice.

The smell of his skewer burning shook bennet out of his odd reminiscing session, and he had quickly pulled his lunch away from the fire and inspected it. Thankfully, it hadn't been too burnt, if anything it was only the smallest bit charred, so he ate it anyways. It had tasted great, despite it being a bit overcooked.

Well rested and his appetite satisfied, he put out the fire, picked up his gear, and began making his way back to the City.

He had decided to take the longer route, only hesitating for a moment when he remembered said route, while arguably more scenic, was riddled with monsters. But then he had thought back to his luck throughout the day, and decided it was worth it—Archons, he had been so stuipd—and continued on the path.

Courtesy of his new fortune, he didn't come across any Hilichurl camps—he didn't even see a lone Hilichurl wandering about.

Strangly enough, that was the moment he had begun to question why his bad luck hadn't caused anything. The only thing remotely unlucky that had happened was his food getting the slightest bit burnt, but that was just because he wasn't paying attention.

Why hadn't a rock fallen on his head randomly? Why hadn't he accidentally left most of his gear back home? Why did his commissions go so unusually well? Why hadn't be gotten injured in anyway, shape or form? Why hadn't he seen a single monster in a area that was known for being riddled with them?

He had felt bad for suddenly questioning his luck, because what if this was the Archons finally feeling pity for him and gracing him with even the smallest bit of fortune, and there he was, complaining about it?

He bit the inside of his cheek, his hand going to grab at the pryo vision hanging at his side. He had slowed in his steps, eyes scanning the area around him, yet.. still, not even a single monster.

He had sighed, groaning. He really shouldn't be complaining about that. It wasn't like he wanted to fight and possibly get injured. It's was just.. it was so strange. He was so used to monsters jumping out of bushes randomly, hitting him over the head with a club before he even noticed them. And now that something like that hadn't happened yet, it was.. odd.

He didn't know how to react to this—which was stuipd, seeing as he'd just be ignoring his lack of misfortune for the entire day, so he should be fine. But he wasn't. He couldn't stop looking over his shoulder, flinching at every small noise and holding his breath at the sight of a mere shadow. He wasn't even admiring the beautiful wilderness around him—the whole reason he decided to take this route!

While before he wanted to take a relaxing stroll before heading back to the city, now all he wanted to do was get back home as soon as possible. Screw the view! He just wanted to get home, and then maybe then he wouldn't feel like something very, very bad was about to happen!

He had been walking by a cliffside when it happened.

It had been quiet, almost silent. Even the naturals sounds of the the area surrounding him had disappeared. Just sound of his own heartbeat in his ears amd his quick paced footsteps and—

Clack.

Bennety flinched, hus head swiveling to the direction of the sound. A peddle dropped down the cliffside besides him, skipping down the high incline of stone before landing with a thud on the grass.

There was silence once again. Then—

Clack.

Another pebble.

Clack.

Another, larger this time.

Clunk.

A rock rumpled down the cliffside, this time.

Clunk.

Another.

CLUNK.

And another.

CLUNK.

And then-

Suddenly, there was a wave of stone falling from the cliffside—peddles, rocks, stones, bolders—the earth shaking with the intensity of the abrupt landslide.

Bennett felt panic seize him, staring at the incoming threat of stoney death with wide, terror-filled eyes.

He turned on his heel, almost tripping and ripping up dirt and grass, before he took off running in the opposite direction to the landslide, praying to every Archon he knew of—Barbatos, Morax, Buer, Murata, all of them—that he'd be able to get out of the way in time, that those falling clunks of stone would miss him. That his luck wouldn't run out, that he'd be lucky enough to get to safety—

But when has luck truly been on his side?

He hardly had time to react as a flying rock hit him square in the back of the head, then another in his thigh, then his shoulder, until one knocked right into the back of his knee, forcing his legs to buckle underneath him and—

He summoned pure pyro elemental energy from his vision, pushing it out to try and give himself some sort of shield, anything to protect himself from the sudden onslaught of rocks and borders encasing around him.

It worked, somewhat.

That was, until he felt his vision get torn away from where it was clasped at his hip, a stray rock ripping the fabric holding it in place, and suddenly, the thin layer of protective pryo energy disappeared.

And the heavy weight of bolders replaced it.

Chapter Text

The first thing Bennett noticed when he woke up, was.. how dark it was.

He couldn't see a thing—there was no light at all, just.. pure darkness around him. It.. was kind of weird. His loft was never this dark, so why?..

The second thing he noticed was how stuffy the air was. As if he was just breathing in dirt and dust. It made it hard to breath. That was also weird. Sure, his loft was dusty, but not that dusty. And he had a window he always had open, so the air shouldn't be this stale and dust filled—and it shouldn't be this dark, either.

The third thing he noticed, was.. weight. A heavy, crushing weight on his left leg. A lighter, less heavy weight on his right arm. Which, again, didn't make any sense at all.

The fourth thing he noticed was a ringing. A loud, buzzing, aching ringing in his ears. It was so loud.. but muffled at the same time. Like he was underwater.

What followed next was worse.

It was sudden, like a shock to his system—it was pain. The fifth thing he noticed after waking up was pain and it hurt. It hurt so much.

The pain was all over his body, a persistent ache that pulsed, but a lot of it was centred around his leg. And holy archons it hurt so bad. Like pins and needles, no—small swords stabbing into his leg from the knee down with no remorse.

Instinctfully, he tried he yank his leg towards himself, but the moment he tried, two things happened.

One, the pain got so much worse. So, so much worse. It felt like it was one fire, like his skin was being peeled off and ow, ow, ow, owowowithurtsithurts-

Two, something shifted. He heard a sound, like stone hitting stone and suddenly something was knocked out of place, and the weight moved. The pain in his leg grew worse, now covering almost his entire leg as something—no, multiple heavy and large things fell onto it.

He screamed, the sound getting caught in his throat as he tried to shoot up into a sitting position, only to knock his head against something hard above him—more things shifted, stone knocked against stone and something fell onto his shoulder with a crack.

He screamed again, biting his tongue as his shoulder screamed in pain, mixing with the weeping ache coming from his leg.

Bennett was so confused. None of it made any sense.

Why was it so dark? Why was the air hard to breath? Why were his ears ringing? Why was there something heavy on his arm and leg? Why he his entire body hurt so much? None of those things made any sense, because he was at home, on his loft. He had just woken up, so why-

Suddenly, it all came rushing back to him.

Waking up, having weirdly good luck the entire day..

His commissions going off without issue..

Finding a firepit that wasn't damaged in anyway, shape or form..

Taking the scenic root home, dispite it being a path known to be riddled with monsters, yet seeing none..

Growing paranoid, flinching at shadows and the smallest off noises..

Walking by a cliffside, a peddle falling.

Then a rock.

Then a bolder.

Then a wave of bolders and stones and chucks of the clif were falling, rushing down the clif like a tidal wave, the ground trembling with the force of the landslide.

Running, or trying to, away from the tumbling bolders, desperate to escape.

A rock hitting him, knocking him to the ground.

Using his vision to try and create something of a shield between himself and the landslide.

His vision getting ripped away from him, then-

Bennett felt panic crawl up his throat, choking him as he remembered everything. He felt tears well up in his eyes, not even bothering to try and stop them as his breath came in sharp and quick.

He had been caught in a landslide. An honest-to-archon landslide. He was buried under what was no doubt tons of stone. He couldn't see, and he didn't have his vision. He couldn't move his leg, it was pinned under bolders and rock and it hurt so much.

The only silver lining to this situation was that he was still breathing—somehow, he hadn't been completely crushed by the rocks. He was buried under tons of stone but they almost created a sort of cave around him. That he couldn't sit up in, pinned to his stomach and with no entry or exit.

His tears flowed freely, and Bennett screamed—the weight of his situation almost heavier then the bolders trapping him.

"Hel- H-HELP! ANYONE, PL-PLEASE- HELP ME, I CAN'T- HELP!" He screamed, and even in his panicked mind, he knew it was pointless. Even if anyone was around, they wouldn't be able to hear him, buried under tons of stone.

But he couldn't help it. He couldn't stop. He kept screaming, calling for help, pleading for someone to by some miracle hear him.

He only stopped when he jerked forwards in his sobbing, causing a few more rocks to come lose and further crush his leg. He screamed at the pain, but his calls for help died in his throat as he sobbed.

Not for the first time in his life—would it be for the last? Oh Archons, was he going to-—he cursed his bad luck. Cursed it as he sobbed, buried in a landslide, in the dark, in pain and so fucking scared.

"D-Dads.. I-I want my D-Dads.." Bennett found himself crying, to no one but himself, as he rested his forehead against the harsh ground below him.

In any other situation, he might have felt stuipd, calling out for his dads comfort—it's not he hasn't been hurt before, he can normally handle it—but in that moment he didn't care.

He wanted his dads. He wanted them to pick him up, holding him close and pet his head like they used to when he was younger. Before they all grew older, the wounds of their adventuring days causing them to grow tired more often, weaker. They weren't as young as they used to be, and they couldn't always help him when he needed it.

He knew they loved him, even if his bad luck caused them problems—they shouldn't have to deal with him, really. Their old, tired adventurers, they deserved a proper retirement, not being forced to look at a bother like him—but they couldn't coddle him like he was a kid anymore.

But dammit—he didn't care. He wanted his dads but they weren't here. They couldn't be here. And it wasn't their fault.

He shouldn't have- have been so stuipd! He should have questioned why he was suddenly being lucky, he shouldn't have turned a blind eye to it! He should have been more careful!

Maybe- maybe if he had stayed home instead, stayed in the city, helped his dads around the house, everything would've gone back to normal!

He wouldn't be here—buried under a mountain of stone and bolders and he wouldn't be in pain and he wouldn't be going- going to-

..he was going to die, wasn't he?

The realisation had Bennett's sobs dying down, caught in his throat. He didn't want to die. Fuck, he really didn't want to die.

He had no way of getting out of this situation. He didn't have his Vision. He couldn't see, the air was so thick with dirt and dust it was like it was trying to choke him. He couldn't move without risking being crushed further. No one would be able to hear his calls for help.

Archons, he was really going to die. And no one would know.

He bit his lip, trying to keep himself from breaking out into sobs again.

He didn't want to die.

Chapter Text

Bennett was running late.

Now, this wasn't an uncommon occurrence, Kaeya would admit. The boy would often show up to their training sessions a few minutes late, or sometimes even pushing up to an hour.

He'd stumble over his words as he rushed to apologise, and Kaeya would laugh, ruffle his hair and reassure him it wasn't a big deal. Then, their lesson would take place as usual, with a few hiccups here and there—for which Bennett would always blamed himself for, even when he hadn't done anything wrong—and that would be the end of it.

So, point is—Bennett normally ran late to things. The kid always tried to be in time, but stuff would happen and he'd be forced to stay behind until it was dealt with. So him running late wasn't unusual.

Normally.

But this wasn't 'normally.'

You see, Bennett was only ever up to an hour late, at most. But after those 60 minutes he'd appear as if summoned, spewing apology after apology.

But here Kaeya was, having been waiting at their usual meeting spot for over three hours. And yet, he hadn't seen hair nor hide of Bennett. At all.

He was a patient person, especially when it came to people be cared about—and Bennett was definitely one of those people—so he didn't necessarily mind waiting, and it wasn't as if he had anything urgent he needed to do. But it had been three hours. Three. So yeah, maybe he was getting a little worried.

Which, honestly, was a bit foolish of him. Despite all the cuts, scraps and bruises Bennett always sported, not to mention the treatment from the other citizens of the city—he really couldn't stand how they treated the kid—he knew how to take care of himself. Sure, he wasn't a master when it cams to wielding a sword, hence their lessons that totally weren't a geize for them to hang out, but he knew what to do with one.

And even if somehow he had gotten hurt, he would've headed up to the cathedral to see one of the nurses there. And their healing was always very effective, and knowing how Bennett was, the moment he had a bandage on whatever wound he might have he would've been booking it to their meeting place.

But he wasn't here. And it'd been three hours. And damnit, Kaeya was worried.

So after another thirty minutes of waiting, on the off chance Bennett would rock up, he stood up from the bench he'd been occupying with a stretch, and began making his way through the city and down to the Adventures Guild.

It was a quick journey, really, and soon enough Kaeya was greeting Katherine and asking her for permission to enter the Guilds housing resident.

"You'd like to visit the Housing Sector?" Katherine echoed, almost sounding surprised, and the Calvary Caption nodded with an affirmative hum.

"Hm.. well, I don't see why not. Right this way, Mister Kaeya. " And with that, Katherine directed him to the entrance to the housing residence.

Kaeya had to admit—it was weird being in the building. He'd never had to enter it before, and never particularly wanted to if he were honest. It wasn't as if the place itself was bad—it was actually rather nice, however it was used as housing for the retired adventures of the Guild, those that struggled with disabling injuries and such, much like a large group home. And he didn't fit that description—please, he wouldn't be old enough to retire for a long while yet—so he never saw any reason to enter. He was only going there now because he knew that's where Bennett, and the old adventurers that adopted him, live.

He walked down a small, sparsely decorated hallway, making his to the door right at the end. When he arrived, he delivered three quick knocks to the door. He waited a moment.

There was no response.

He knocked again.

Once again, no response.

He knocked once more.

Again with no response, and just as he was about to knock a third time, the dark oak wooden door flung open.

"I heard ya, I heard ya! Geez, I may be well in my years but my ears ain't that bad, y'know." A man, clearly passed his prime with greying hair and a wispy beard, but with muscles the size of rocks, stood on the other side of the now open door.

He looked down at Kaeya—he was a few inches taller then himself—a handing rubbing the back of his neck. "Ah, ain't you the Calvary Captain?" The man asked with a tilt of his head.

Kaeya nodded. "That's me alright—pleasure to meet you, sir..?"

"Just call me Gerhard—and none of that Sir or Mister stuff. Makes me feel older then I am." The man—Gerhard, which now that Kaeya thought about, Bennett had mentioned him a few times in their conversations—introduced himself with a wave of his hand. Just as Kaeya went to tell the man his own name, he was cut off. "You're Kaeya, yeah, I already know—Bennett talks about ya' all the time."

He'd admit he felt a stab of pride knowing Bennett talked to his dads about him—what can he say? He has a soft spot for the kid. He's glad to know he feels comfortable enough with him to mention him to his Father's.

"Now, whatcha' doing here? Don't you and the kid have a sword-wieldin' lesson together right now?" Gerhard pointed out, leaning back into the room behind him to no doubt look at a clock or something of the sort.

"We do, and that's exactly why I'm here." Kaeya stated, but all that got him was a confused look from the retired adventurer. "Me and Bennett are supposed to have a lesson right now, but Bennett hasn't shown up yet, so I was wondering if he was here and had just forgotten."

Gerhard was quiet for a moment, as if processing the words, before he spoke. "He's not here—left to do his daily commissions early this mornin'." He explained, pausing. "He was supposed to go straight to his lesson with you right after he finished 'em."

Now that had Kaeya confused. Despite Bennett's, well.. bad luck, he never really struggled much with his commissions—and when he did, he always made it back to the city for proper medical attention(normally..). But even then, if he left to do his dailies early this morning, and it was currently late afternoon, then.. he should've been back by now.

Gerhard must have come to the same conclusion Kaeya had, based on his expression. Suddenly, the older man turn around, calling out into the house.

"Oi, Ernst! You seen Bennett since this mornin'?" He shouted, and a few moments later another retired adventurer—shorter, with shaggy blonde hair and a hand that was missing 3 fingers—came into view.

"Bennett? No, not since he left to do his dailies. Why?" Ernst asked, confused, as he approached Garhard and Kaeya.

"Calvary Captain guy rocked up—says the kid didn't show up at their lesson." Gerhard explained, and when Ernst turned to him, he nodded to confirm.

"The squirt loves those lessons, talks about 'em all the time—He'd never miss one." Ernst said, turning his attention back to Gerhard. "I know. It doesn't make any sense." Taller retired adventurer replied, his voice taking on a worried undertone.

There was a stretch of silence between the three of them.

"I'm sure he's alright—he's a tough kid." Kaeya suddenly says, meaning what he said. Sure, he's worried, but he knows Bennett can look after himself.. for the most part. "Why don't we ask around? Someone has to have seen him?" He suggests, and after sharing a look, Gerhard and Ernst agree.

The first person they questioned was Katherine.

"Bennett? I saw him this morning, when he came to collect his commissions for the day. But he hasn't come to collect his rewards, so I'm afraid I haven't seen him since." She regretfully informed them, her own brows pinching in worry as she did.

The next person they question is a gaurd patrolling close to the front gate.

"Who? Oh, you mean that unlucky kid? White hair, green eyes? Yeah, I saw him this morning looking happy as a pup, but not since then."

Sara, owner of the good Hunter, is who they ask next.

"Oh, I'm sorry—I haven't seen Bennett since yesterday."

They question many other people; citizens, stall owners at the market, other patrolling gaurds, drunkens at the taverns, even that pigoen obessed Timmy kid on the bridge—but they all had similar answers, each and every time.

Either they haven't seen Bennett since this morning, or since yesterday. Throughout the entire process, Kaeya's worry became to steadily rise with each person they questioned. Gerhard and Ernst were the same, given by their almost grim expressions.

They decided to track down on last person to ask about Bennett and his whereabouts—that being Fischl, someone they all knew to be a close friend of his.

It took some time, but they were finally able to find her chatting with her Raven familiar by the Statue of Barbatos near the Cathedral.

When asked, her response was.. interesting, and confusing to say the least.

"Bennett, you query me on? I am woe to inform thee that I have not laid eyes upon our star-curse companion this orbit!" She proclaimed, and there was a stretch of silence.

"What Mein Fräulein means to say is—no, we have not seen Bennett today." Fischl's Raven familiar—Oz, he thinks it's name was?—translates.

"This isn't gettin' us anywhere! No one knows where the kid is!" Gerhard exclaimed in frustration, and Ernst huffed in agreement.

"No one has- Ahem, I-I mean, none of this city have seen our dear friend? How can such be? His is not a presence capable of being so disrespectfully overlooked!" Fischl exclaimed, placing a hand on her hip and turning her nose up to all of them in what was seemingly offence oh behalf of her friend. "Might he simply be out indulging in the wonders of the fair land of this realm?"

"Thats the thing—we don't know. No one's seen him since this morning, and he should've been back by now.." Kaeya explained to the girl, and even he was able to see the worry appear in her eye's at the information, despite how she tried to mask it. Even the Raven seemed worried, now.

He looked up to the sky, noting how dark it had gotten—the sun was starting to set. Yet there was still no sign of Bennett. Or even any useful information about him.

He heard Ernst sigh, and he turned his head towards the retired adventurer. "The kid knows to not be out of the city this late—if he ain't back by now, then.." His voice trailed off, and the words he left unspoken hang in the air. And none of them liked the implications of them.

Kaeya looked back up at the darkening sky, seeing the beginnings of stars begin to show themselves in preparation for the night to come.

He knew he shouldn't be as worried as he is—Bennett can take care of himself. He even has a vision, for Archons sake. But.. dammnit, he couldn't help it. What if he really was out there, somewhere in Mondstat, hurt? With no one to help him? He felt almost stuipd for jumping to the most pessimistic outcome, but.. even Gerhard and Ernst thought the same.

Just where are you, Bennett?

Chapter Text

Two days.

It had been two days since anyone had seen Bennett.

And to say Kaeya was worried would be the biggest understatement of the century—no, the biggest understatement if all of Teyvat.

He was so worried be could feel it building up in his chest, slowly rising and rising until it threatened to choke him, only to crawl out of his throat until he cried because dammit—he didn't know what else to do.

Bennett's Fathers were in a similar state—all dozen or so old, retired Adventurers worried to the bone about the boy they all adopted, they all raised. A boy they hadn't seen, or heard from, in over 48 hours.

The news of Bennett's disappearance had spread throughout the city like wildfire, throwing water onto the pleasantly burning fire of peace that lit the city and warmed everyones hearts.

After the first 24 hours had passed, Jean had authorised a search party—one that Kaeya lead alongside Gerhard and a few more of Bennett's Guardians. They looked for anything that even resembled a clue, something that could lead them to Bennett, but even after hours of searching, until the sun began to set and the sky grew dark, they didn't find anything.

Nothing. Not even footprints, for Celestia's sake!

So here Kaeya was, pacing around the Knights headquarters, trying to think of anything that could be done to help them find Bennett. While Bennett's Dads and that Fischl girl and her Raven familiar were out in the city, once again questioning people of what Bennett's last whereabouts could be.

In all honestly, Kaeya felt rather stuipd at the moment. He was the Calvary Captain—and while search and rescue wasn't part of his job description, strategy and tracking was. The Calvary's job was to weaken large groups of enemies, track them down and spread them thin—making them easier to defeat.

And as Captian, he knew how to do that—he was good at it, too. So why the fuck was his knowledge failing him now? Sure, he didn't need to weaken an opposing force, he did need to track someone down!

He wasn't sure how long he was pacing around his office, pulling at his hair and trying to think of something, before he heard someone knock on the door.

He wasn't sure who he expected to see—hopefully someone with news on Bennett, honestly—but it sure wasn't the infamous Cheif Alchemist himself.

Albedo stood in the open door, the perfect picture of calm and collected that Kaeya definitely wasn't. The shorter male stared at him for a moment, his usual blank expression softening in a way it only ever did for one other person—a little girl with firey and explosive tendencies—before approaching him.

"You'll tear your hair out, Kaeya." Albedo softly chided, reaching up and untangling the tallers fingers from his hair and holding them in his own. His own dark, rich skin stood out against Albedo creamy, almost unnaturally white completion.

"You're stressed." He pointed out, and Kaeya couldn't hold back his half-scoff, half-laugh.

"I didn't notice." Jeez, that came out ruder then he wanted it too. The Alchemist didn't seem offended in the slightest, however, and merely hummed as his stroked the back of Kaeya's hand with his thumb.

"You need to take a break, Kaeya." Albedo stated, and Kaeay shook his head—pulling his hands out of his lovers to run them through his hair with a sigh.

"I can't."

"You can." Part of Kaeya wanted to be mad. Albedo had no right to tell him to take a break—had the Alchemist met himself? He wouldn't know what a break was if it smacked him in the face.

"No, I can't—I can't just- just sit around and do nothing! Not while Bennett is missing! I need to think of something, some kind of plan-"

"Something you will not be able to do if you are as distressed as you are now." Albedo cut him off, and Kaeya hated him. Hated how right he was.

"But it'll waste time! Time that can't be wasted right now!" He argued.

"But more will be the wasted the longer you let your distress cloud your judgement." Albedo shot back.

Damnit, why did the Alchemist have to be right?

Without another word, Kaeya collapsed down into the nearest chair, resting his head in his hands as he forced out a shake sigh. Albedo followed and took a seat next to him, resting a hand on his back and rubbing up and down slowly, comfortingly.

Kaeya would admit, taking this moment—as small as it was—to clear his head, to force down his worry and shove it into a small, unbreakable box, helped.

"I need to find him, Dove.." He muttered after a few minutes, his voice quiet as he breathed.

"And you will." His lover comforted, and it sounded like he truly believed that.

After a few more minutes of silent passed between them, calm and comforting, before an idea struck Kaeya.

Damnit, now he felt really stuipd. Honestly, why hadnt he thought of it sooner? It was so blatantly obvious.

Instantly, he was on his feet and all but rushing out of his office. Albedo was quick to follow, jogging to catch up.

"Where are you off to?" He asked, and yet there was a knowing glint in his artic eyes.

"Springvale. That hunting town is full of experienced trackers—someone there would be able to find Bennett, I'm sure of it!" Was his response. In the corner of his eye, that wasn't covered by his eye patch, he saw a small smile tug at Albedo's lips. "See? You just needed a moment to clear your head."

He'd have to remember to give his Dove the biggest kiss in all of Teyvet as a thank you as soon as they found Bennett.

Bennett didn't know how long it had been. A few hours? Days? He honestly couldn't tell.

Hunger ate at his stomach, desperate for something, and his throat was so dry he couldn't even breath with it feeling like he was swallowing sandpaper—the dust and dirt in the air didn't help.

He couldn't even feel his leg anymore, and something screamed at him in the back of his mind that that really wasn't a good thing. But it was like his mind was filled his cotton, he could hardly think.

He was just.. so weak. The dull ache in his body faded in and out of focus, and he's sure he's passed out a few times, but he just.. can't move.

He tried—tried raising his hand infront of his hand, but he couldn't. Did it even twitch? He doesn't know, he couldn't see.

It was scary. He was scared. Terrified. But it felt so.. so dulled. Like it was covered in a damp blanket. He knew it was there, he could feel it, but he couldn't focus on it.

Honestly, he doesn't think he wanted to.

His mind wondered—wondered as much as it could, but any thought he had faded quickly. He thinks he pictured his dads faces a few times, old scars and greying hair. Roughs hands and warm hugs. Wide smiles and gruff voices. But he isn't sure.

Did he think of Razor and Fischl? White-grey hair, always full of twigs and leaves, a blank face with a scarred cheek, always stained with dirt. Ruby-oranage eyes, broken speech and warm, afternoon naps in the sun. Blonde hair, leaf green eyes—complex words and black feathers.

If he did—those images disappeared quicker then he could register them.

He sucked in a breath, his lungs pulling in dusty oxygen only to want to reject it. His eyes blinked, trying to catch light but there was no light to catch.

His hands balled into loose fists, grasping at the dirt below him. The cuts on his hands stung, but he hardly felt it.

He's so.. tired..

Suddenly, his mind wondered something, and for whatever reason, its a thought that didn't fade away in seconds.

Would.. anyone miss me?

It echoed in his mind.

Is anyone.. even looking?

He doesn't know why that caused his fear to spike, air caught in his throat, but then the fatigue lingering in his mind ate away at it.

"Look, we're sorry, but.. no."

Kaeya has never wanted to punched someone in the face more then he has in that moment.

"What do you mean, no?" He growled, his hands already balling into fists as he at the stuipd, selfish, fucktard hunter before him.

"I mean just that—no." The hunter—what was his name? Draff or something stuipd like that?—rubbing the back of his neck. The cat-like ears on his head flicked back in what might have been irritation. "Look, I'd love to help ya, ok? I'm sure this Bennett kid is a real good one, but I can't spare any of my trackers right now. Not in the prime of hunting season."

He heard the sheer anger building up in Ernsts voice as he spoke. "What? So a few dead animals are more important to you then a kids life?" He spat, and if the man decided to lung at the idiot before them, Kaeya wouldn't stop him. Infact, he'd join him in kicking his ass.

"No, of course not—but I'm just looking at the bigger picture here. Springvale hunts and distributes all of Mondstats meat supply, and if we slack off for even a day during the peak of hunting season, we'll loose more meat then I can risk." Draff exaggeratedly explained, waving a hand to guesture to nothing in particular. "Don't you Knights have some trackers, anyhow? Why do you need to take one of mine?"

"Because the trackers in Springvale are the best in all of Mondstat!" And Varka took all the other trackers with him on his stupidly long expadition! "Damnit, we only need one! That shouldn't be that big of a deal!" Kaeya exclaimed—just what about that couldn't this fucker get through his skull?

"Well, it is. I'm sorry, but we can't help you guys. You're going to have to find some other way to find this kid." Draff state with a sigh, and it was clear by his tone he wasn't going to be convinced otherwise.

Kaeya was really about to unseath his sword and rip this asswipe a new one, had it not been for the hand that rested itself on his shoulder.

He turned his head, seeing the aged face of Gerhard looking at Draff. It was clear to see he himself was holding back his anger.

"It ain't worth it, Kaeya." He forced out, turning his gaze to look at Kaeya.

They stared at each other for a moment.

With a scoff, the Calvary Captain let go out his swords hilt.

He turned his back to Draff, pushing through the group of Knights and Bennett's Gaurdian that had followed him to the forsaken hunting village to get away from it as soon as possible. Everyone was quick to follow him.

Once they were a good distance away, Kaeya allowed himself to clutch at his hair in anger and shout through clenched teeth. "What the fuck are we supposed to do now?!" He shouted, his anger and distress hitting him like a truck.

He heard a few murmurs throughout the small search party, a few suggestions were thrown out but evidently ignored because they were useless.

Suddenly, someone did say something that was useless, however—that being Fischl.

"Oh, nothing but a fool I am! How could this evade my allknowing mind for this long?! What of our canine-risen companion, Razor? He is wolven at heart, raised by those creatures! Surely, he'd be able to sniff out dearest Bennett!" She exclaimed, forcing her way through the group of much older and taller people to get to the front to shout what she realised. She Raven familiar rested on her shoulder, nodding it's head in agreement.

Dispite how she said it—which, really, was very unnecessary—Kaeya understood what she was saying.

Bennett has mentioned Razor more then a few times during their lesson—a boy raised by the Wolvendom wolves. Infact, that boy was something of a myth in Mondstat. He was hardly ever seen by the public, but he was known for interfering with the hunts conducted by Springvale—those guys deserved it, the fuckers. Not only because their selfish, but because they were hunting in Wolvendom: a protected and off limits area.

Kaeya didn't know how Bennett became so.. close with the boy—he did know of how they first met, and wasn't that a story..—but from how he talked of him.. they cared for each other deeply.

"Take us too him, Fischl." He ordered, almost pleaded.

"That I can do! But our lupus-starred friend would not due kindly with all these folk! With fright and fear, he could attack or flee before he can be informed!" Fischl explained, and Kaeya sighed. Ofcourse the feral kid wouldn't like people. Just great. This would make everything so much harder..

"Alright then. I'll go with you—and.." He paused, looking through the ground of people. "Ernst. Can you come with? You've lived with Bennett his whole life—if Razor was raised by wolves, then he'll be intone with scents. He'll know your close with him, and might he more willing to hear us out."

Ernst agreed instantly, and Kaeya would hear the complaints of Bennett's other Guardians.

"Why just Ernst? We all raised him, Kaeya!" One of them shouted, and others voiced their agreements.

"You heard the girl! This kid doesn't like people! We can't all go." Gerhard shouted, and everyone shut up quickly. "I dont like this just as much as any of ya, but if you want our boy to be found, stop complaining!"

Kaeya shot the older man a thankful look, and he got an nod of approval and dismissal in retuned.

With that, He, Fischl and Ernst set off to Wolvendom at a jog.

Don't worry Bennett. We'll find you.

Chapter Text

As it turns out, trying to locate a feral boy known for his aversion of humans was.. quite difficult.

The trip to Wolvendom wasn't a long one, seeing as Springvale—that blasted hunting village—was located relatively close to the forest, but once they arrived, there wasn't any sign of the kid.

They spent some time searching, calling out his name and such, but that didn't get them anywhere. And as the sun dipped lower and lower in the sky, whatever hope of finding Razor was getting smaller and smaller.

"Are you sure the kids even here, girl?" Ernst questioned, turning to Fischl, frustration and annoyance poorly hidden in his voice. "We've been looking for hours, and none of us have seen anything other then trees, rocks and the occasional critter."

"Indeed, I am certain! This is where he and his canine family resides, he- he will appear!" She exclaimed, her voice pitching higher the longer she spoke. Her Raven familiar whispered something in her eyes—and by the way the girls shoulders dropped, losing some tension, it was trying to calm her.

Ernst rolled his eyes at her words, huffing in agitation before turning away. He walked a few metres away, looking through bushes and behind trees half-heartily.

Kaeya sighed, understanding the man's annoyance. His son was missing, afterall, and instead of actively looking for him, here they were searching for a feral kid neither of them had ever really seen before.

Quietly, he made his way over to Fischl, taking note of the worried expression on her face as she scanned the surrounding area.

She jumped when he placed a hand on her shoulder, her Raven familiar squaking as it was thrown off where it had perching on her shoulder because of the harsh movement.

"I am not lying, I would do no such thing with our Misfortune-allied companion at stack!" The blonde was quick to defend herself, yanking her shoulder of his grasp before he could even say a word. "He is here! Where he currently hides, I know not, but he is here!"

"I wasn't going to say that you were lying, Fischl—just.. are you sure it worth spending all this time looking for this kid?" He hated to say it, he really did—Fischl was only trying to help, and here he was questioning her attempt because the feral boy who was known to avoid people wasn't showing up.

The look the young girl turned to give him made Kaeya pause—she looked downright offended, her brow furrowed and lips pulled back in a small sneer.

"Ofcourse! For you to dare question their companionship, I cannot believe it! While our lupus-risen friend may avoid humanlike, so deeply does he cherish Bennett! As do I—a Prinzessin adores and protects her subjects, especially those who are within her council!" She exclaimed, her tone filled with anger and offence. Her Raven familiar was hovering besides her, also sending a glare his way—which, ok, impressive. He didn't even know ravens could glare. "Once he appears and it made knowledge of the situation at hand, he will eagerly come to our aid in locating our friend!" She finished, cheeks red with frustration and eyes alight with anger.

She then looked away, shoulders tense and fists clenched. "He'll help us find him." She mumbled to herself, after a moment, and Kaeya had a struggle hearing her. "He will."

Kaeya frowned. Dammnit, now he felt bad.

He didn't mean to upset her, he just- the time they were spending in this forest, looking for this kid, they could instead be looking for Bennett. It's almost been three days since he was last seen, and who knows what kind of condition he'd be in!

He was just worried. But..

He glanced back at Fischl, her head bowed as her Raven familiar whispered in her ears. Her shoulders were trembling.

So was Fischl. Kaeya may be Bennett mentor, and may have a special place in his heart only for the kid, Fischl was his friend. One the very few he had—and if he knew anything about the girl, Bennett was.. one of her only friends so.

She had to be terrified. Underneath that odd persona she had—which Kaeya still couldn't quite understand—was a girl that missed her friend. And that.. Kaeya could understand. And right now, she was doing everything she could to help find Bennett.

With a sigh, Kaeya walked away from Fischl, passing by where Ernst looked behinds trees and rocks half-heartedly.

They had a boy to find—and Kaeya would be damned if they left before doing that.

The moon was slowly rising into the sky when they found Razor.

Well, correction—Fischl found him. Kaeya and Ernst had been scanning the darkening forest, searching for any sign of human life anywhere—their hope and patience almost run dry—when they heard Fischl exclaimed proudly and excitedly.

The two men where quick to rush to the girls side, only pausing when they caught sight of another person near her.

A teenager boy, crouched down on the ground, long, messy grey-white hair and tattered clothes—they looked more like worn rags, really—and strikingly red eyes looking at them cautiously. His entire stance screamed wariness, mistrust.

Kaeya couldn't say he was surprised—if any of the rumours about the kid were true, he had every right to not trust them. But they had a reason for being here—a good one.

"Razor, there you are! We have been searching under pebble and stone for thee!" Fischl exclaimed, and Razors eyes snapped towards her. His gaze soften considerably, but his stance did not relax. "We come with-"

"Why here?" Razor suddenly asked, cutting Fischl off. The girl paused, evidently confused.

"Human not welcome here—know this. Leader angry, if find you." He continued, voice rough yet quiet. He sounded sincere in his warning—whoever this leader was(which Kaeya suspected was the Wolf Lord, Andrius, that looked over Wolvendom as his domain), the boy didn't seem like he wanted him hurting them. Well, by them he assumed Fischl.

"Well, that is correct, however-" Fischl began once more, only to have Ernst cut her off.

"Look, kid, we don't got time for this—We wasted enough find looking for you as is." The man almost growled out, hours of searching an unfamiliar forest having rung out his patience completely. "We're only because we need your help looking for Bennett—your friends with him, aren't ya?"

At first, Razors head had snapped towards Ernst with a snarl on his lips, but the mention of Bennett had that snarl disappearing instantly, the kid perking up. Kaeya almost got whiplash from how quick these boys emotions could switch.

"Benny?" He echoed, and all three of them nodded. "..why look for Benny?" Razor then asked, confusion in his voice as his head tilted to the side.

"He's missing," Kaeya explained. "No ones seen him for almost three days."

Fischl jumped in, and this time she wasn't cut off. "Indeed, they speak truth! It was our hope that you would assist us in locating our star-cursed companion, for not even your all-knowing Prinzessin knows where he resides!"

At her words, Razor only seemed more confused. He took a step back—well, more like crawled an inch or two backwards, since he was pretty much on all fours—with a shake of his head. "Big words. Not understand."

Ah. Well, seems like even Fischls friends had a hard time understand her odd way of speaking.

Before Ernst, Kaeya, or even her Raven familiar—who seemed to translate for her often—could elaborate for the feral boy, Fischl spoke again.

"We- We need your help looking for Bennett!" The girl rushed out, and hearing her speak without her added grandiose was.. a little strange, Kaeya would admit. Her Raven familiar even sent her a glance, seemingly surprised and/or worried—sad, even? "Y-You're good at tracking stuff down, your nose is better then anyone's I know! So.. so please. Help us find Bennett—tr-track him down for us. Please." Her voice started off loud, almost desperate, before it lowered in volume, until she was only speaking in a whisper, her head bowed.

Razor stared at her. Kaeya stared at her. Ernst stared at her.

Then, the feral boy hesitantly raised a hand, reaching out until his fingers grabbed hold of the hem of Fischls skirt—he tugged lightly, grabbing her attention.

"Will help." He said, his voice softer then it had been previously. "No sad. Will help find Benny. Not.. want him to be missing, too."

It was Fischls turn to stare, before she smiled, raising her head and she grabbed Razors hand in her own, all but yanking the boy up to his feet—to which the yelped in surprise at.

"Thank you, Razor! Thank you!" She cheered, pulling Razor into a quick hug before holding him at arms distance. "We haven't a moment to lose, then! The sun has already retreated from the moons glow!" Aannnddd her grandiose was back. Kaeya could laugh.

Before Fischl could drag the boy behind her, he pulled against her grip on his hands. "Can't, not yet."

All three of them looked at him, confused—Ernst was frustrated, however.

"What do you mean not yet?!" The man shouted, fed up with everything at this point. He just wanted to hurry up and find his boy—he didn't want to deal with this feral kid anymore!

"Need scent. To track. Need Benny's scent." Razor was quick to explained, his body tensing at Ernsts raised voice—placing himself between the man and Fischl, a growl almost leaving his lips. Clearly, he took Ernsts shouting as a sign of aggression—which.. he wasn't exactly wrong.

The man in question, however, quickly shut his mouth after Razor elaborated, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck in embarrassment. "Right, forgot about that.." He muttered, no longer sounding like he was about to kick something.

"Doesn't any of us have something that would have Bennett's scent on it?" Kaeya questioned—he really hoped they did. Because if not, they'd have to go back to the city and grab something that did, and that would waste even more time.

Kaeya, for one, sure didn't have anything like that on his person. Fischl shook her head, same as her Raven, so neither did she. That only left—

"Yeah, yeah, I do." Ernst admitted, digging his hand—the one with all five fingers—into his back pocket, pulling out a familiar piece of cloth. It looked very similar to bandanna Bennett wore around his right bicep, only the shade of orange was slightly darker—it looked very well worn, however. "Grabbed this from hime before we left for springvale, in cause we could've used one of their hunting dogs." Ernst explained, mumbling the last bit to himself, before holding it out for Razor to take.

The kid regarded him cautiously, staring at the hand-made bandanna in his hand but refusing to take it. In the end, Fischl was the one that took it from Ernst—side-stepping around Razor to do so—and gave it to him.

Razor glared at Ernst for a second longer before taking the bandanna from his friends hands—he held it very loosely, and it looked like he cringed at the texture of it—before bringing it up to his nose to give it a sniff.

"Smell like Benny.." The boy mumbled, and it was almost too quiet for Kaeya to hear. His head snapped up after, handing the bandanna back to Fischl as he sniffed at the air.

"Follow." Was the warning Razor gave before he started off in the direction of the scent trail he seemed to pick up.

Kaeya cheered inwardly—finally, they had a lead, something to follow.

Soon, he promised to himself. We'll find you soon, Bennett.

Chapter Text

Before they set out to follow Bennett's scent and—hopefully—find the kid, they took a small detour to meet up with the rest of the search party.

None of them had gone home, despite the late hour, and had only returned to the city briefly to get some lanterns and torches. When Kaeya and Ernst informed everyone how they successfully located Razor—who was hanging back, away from the large crowd with Fischl to keep him form getting overwhelmed and running off—and how he was willing to track Bennett scent, everyone was overjoyed.

Kaeya couldn't blame them. He was more then happy himself—finally, finally they had a lead. Something tangible and reliable. They wouldn't just be looking around blindly anymore.

After that, it wasn't long before all of them were following Razors lead as he followed whatever whiff of Bennett's scent he could find thanks to the bandanna Ernst gave him.

They had to stay a certain distance away, too make sure their own scents didn't make the feral kid confused. Was it a little annoying? Sure, but no one complained much. Everyone just wanted to find Bennett, they'd do anything at this point.

Kaeya wasn't entirely sure how long they all followed behind Razor, but eventually everyone was made aware it had been quite a while when the sun began peaking above the horizon.

Everyone was surely tired as hell, but no one wanted to stop. Kaeya knew for a fact he didn't—it was the last thing he wanted to do.

The longer they took, the weaker Bennett's scent trail would gets, making it harder for Razor to track, meaning it would take even longer for them to find the kid, and—

It's already been four days. He didn't know if Bennett was hurt, or introuble, or scared, and he—none of them wanted to leave him where ever he was for longer then they had to.

In the early hours of the morning, they came across a small clearing with the remains of a small bonfire. That in itself wasnt interesting, what was interestinf was the small specks of abyssial energy lingering in the air. Signs an Abyss Mage had been in the area within the last few days.

What was interesting still, was that Razor stopped, paused, and began sniffing around the area—and wasn't that a sight to see; a teenage kid on all fours, his nose to the ground. But he couldn't fault the kid, he was raised by wolves, and if it helped find Bennett, he wouldn't question it—for a few minutes.

Silently, and admittedly adorably, he sat up, reaching a hand out to Fischl in an obvious "come here" guesture. Ofcourse, the girl obliged without question. She didn't complain when the boy grabbed her arm and tugged her down to his level, and listened intently to whatever he whispered in her ear. Clearly, he wasn't conformable talking with the amount of humans that there were around him. Which, fair—Kaeya could relate. When he was Razors age, even younger, he hated large crowds with a passion.

"Everyone, turn thee's attention to thou's Prinzessin!"—as if everyone attention wasn't already on her—"The one we search for was here!" Fischl proclaimed, "Our canine-risen friend has informed me of such! He stood here for a length of time some celestial orbits ago!"

"For Barbatos' sake, please speak normally girl! We don't have time to try and translate everythin' you say!" A man—another one of Bennetts adoptive dads, whose name Kaeya didnt know, short, plum with a beard worth praising—shouted, frustrated. Kaeya couldn't blame him, not entirely.

Fischl stuttered over a possible response for a moment, her cheeks an embarrassed and almost offended(or ashamed?)red. Razor glared at the man that shouted, lips pulling make into and snarl.

Before anyone could reply, Fischl's Raven familiar spoke.

"What Mein Fräulein means to say, gentlemen, is that Razor said Bennett has been here within the last few days." Oz translated, and everyone in the search party immediately broke out into conversation—paranoid, relieved, hopeful, the whole package.

Kaeya, however, was more worried then anything. Knowing that Bennett had been within this clearing was an amazing lead, but...

There were tracing of an Abyss Mage. And with how long Bennett's been missing.. he didn't like what that implied.

Gerhard seemed to share his thoughts, the older man appearing by his side, sporting a similarly worried expression.

"Gerhard-" Kaeya began, but he never had a chance to say what he planned to.

"Bennett's a tough kid. I should know—been rasin' him since he was a babe. I'm.. I'm sure he's alright, wherever he is." The retired adventurer stated, but it sounded more like he was trying to reassure himself.

Kaeya didn't have the heart to disagree with him. Heck, he didn't want to. He wanted Bennett to be ok more then anything. If anything happened to that kid, if he was anything but ok when they found him, he didn't.. he didn't know what he'd do.

"We should continue. The longer we wait, the weaker Bennett's scent trail will get, ain't that right?" Kaeya nodded.

"Alright." Gerhard turned to the crowd. "CAN IT, MEN!"

Everyone went dead silent.

"We got our boy to find. So shit your traps and let's keep at it."

With no complaints to speak of, they all went back to following Razor—who was even further infront of the group then before. Thank you, stuipd beautiful-beard man.

By the time the sun was setting on the fourth day—Archons, the fourth day—they'd found two more places where Razor revealed Bennett had been.

The first had been another small clearing, much like the one with abyssal rements. But what set this one apart was that it had the days old remains of a defeated ruin gaurd. It'd been almost completely striped down to its base and basic machinery, no doubt thanks to bandits and treasure horders, but from what still remained there where very visible scorch marks.

No one liked what that implied, but at least they knew Bennett had most likely taken the thing down. But if he'd been injured while doing so...

There wasn't any blood. Old or new. That was what reassured everyone, if only barely.

The next was a small rest station, one of many scattered all throughout Mondstat.

This one, however, had been robbed of its complimentary cooking pot and the fire pit itself was all but destroyed. Bennett must've stopped here to rest, maybe eat.

Once again, there was no blood.

The search party continued to follow Razor, only pausing once again when they were lead past the threshold into a forest known for being beautiful, but littered with Monsters. Kaeya would know. He's conducted scouting parties here before.

And if Razor was leading them down here, then.. Bennett must have walked through here. But why?

He knew he could take care of himself, sure, but he was still a kid. A kid who still struggled with his blade work and whose bad luck would have every monster within this forest on his ass in three seconds flat. Why would he go through here?

He kept his concerns to himself. He's sure the others were thinking the same, as the atmosphere suddenly became incredibly sombre. And it didn't help that they only had the dim moonlight and their lanterns to light the area around them.

Seriously, they could hardly see Razor at this point. They could only make out where he was going because of the lantern Fischl was holding, since she was still by his side.

They walked a few minutes more, deeper into the forest.

"Oi, guys?" Someone hesitantly called out to the rest if the search party. "Not to jinx it, but.. why aren't their any monsters?"

...now that it was mentioned, yeah. Kaeya founded it odd. This place was known for being infested with monsters left and right, so.. where the hell where they?

As weird as it was—it felt like a bad omen, honestly—Kaeya refused to think much else of it.

He wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, no sir. It was very lucky where weren't having to fight off hilicurls or Abyss Mages right now. Everyone else seemed to agree, since it wasn't brought up again.

Another twenty minutes passed before anything else happened.

Razor suddenly stopped, looking around the surrounding forest, doing a circle or two of the immediate area before turning to Fischl. It took a moment for the rest of the search party to catch up, still staying some distance away.

Razor nodded once. "End of trail."

Everyone was silent.

"R-Really?" Fischl questioned, almost scared, 100% hopeful. Everyone held their breath.

Another nod. "Scent end here—no more."

No body could keep their excited shouts and exclaims back, not even Kaeya. If the scent trail ended here, then that means Bennett was here, so they've found him, but-

His excitement was cut short. If he's here, then.. where is he?

"Bennett?" Kaeya hesitantly called out, over the sound of everyones premature celebrating. Everyone went quiet.

There wasn't a response.

"Bennett!" Garhard called out, this time.

Once again, no response.

"Bennett?!" Fischl almost screamed, excitement gone and replaced with fear.

"Fan out! Find our boy!" Ernst shouted, and no one argued.

In moments, everyone was scattered around the immediate area, looking in tree hollows, in bushes, up trees, behind rocks; there wouldn't stick nor stone unturned. Everyone was calling Bennett's name, desperate for a response but receiving nothing in return.

Razor was back to sniffing the air, the ground, on all fours as he joined in the search—he stayed away from everyone else, even completely leaving the immediate area with Fischl at his heel.

Kaeya followed—if he were following anyone's lead, it would definitely be the feral kids whose noses is better then everyone's there. Sure, he said the scent trail ended, but that didn't mean he only meant this is where Bennett's scent was most localised; he could be going towards where it was strongest.

Soon, they stepped out of the tree line, coming across a sizable plateau with a steep cliff to the left hand side.

Razor was sniffing the air, Fischl was looking around and calling Bennett's name, but Kaeya hardly paid attention to any of that.

He had his eyes fixated on the thing several metres infront of them, barely shown by the light of his and Fischls lanterns. But he could see it.

A pile of bolders, rocks, pebbles, the whole lot, stacked on top of each other. The ground around it was turned up, grass shredded and dirt displaced. It stretched from the cliff face to the egde of the plateau. Said cliff face was sratched and dented, almost like... multiple heavy things tumbled down it—

Kaeya marched past Razor and Fischl, catching both their attention, directly towards the pile of stone clearly caused by a landslide.

He stopped right at the food of where the pile began, placing his Lantern to the ground and he himself lowered to his knees. Fischl came up beside him, Razor hesitantly following.

Kaeya cautiously placed a hand on the nearest bolder, but quickly pulled it back when that displaced a small rock or two.

He turned his head to his right, noticing Razor inching closer to the remains of the landslide.

He sniffed the air once.

He sniffed it once more, harsher, quicker, almost panicked. "Benny?"

No, no, no, Archons, please no-

"Benny?!" Kaeya barely had a second to react before he caught Razor around the mid section, stopping the boy from lunging at the pile of stone.

The kid scratched at his arms, kicking, growling, trying to bite, desperate to get out of his arms and to the rock pile. "Let go, let go- Need to help- Benny!"

Kaeya felt his heart sink. Please, fuck, please don't mean what he think that means—

"Benny is there! Need to help- Let Razor go, LET GO!"

A rush of cold fear, dread, nausea and panic punched Kaeya in the gut.

"W-What? What does Razor mean? Is Bennett- Is he- Archons, no no no- BENNETT!!" Fischl screamed, not caring she was breaking character, and Kaeya caught her arm just in time to stop her from lunging at the rocks, just like Razor was trying to do. If they jumped at the pile, it could destabilise it, and- and if he's still alive, then- then he'd get further crushed, and-

They found Bennett.

But he was buried under tons of stone. Kaeya barely choked back his scream at the revelation.

Chapter Text

It didn't take long for everyone else to find them, lured by Fischl and Razors screams and shouts.

Kaeya hadn't noticed them at first. He didn't notice much of anything, really. The entire world had gone silent—he couldn't hear Razor and Fischl, he couldn't hear the questions getting thrown his way by the other members of the search party, he couldn't hear anything.

He could only stare, wide eyed and horrified at the pile of rocks before him. He could only imagine Bennett, sweet, stupidly kind and optimistic Bennett, struggling to breath under the weight of the stone ontop of him, biting back tears at the broken bones and bruises and cuts he must have, or worse.

It took them almost 5 days to find him, to find the stones. Five days. And the landslide couldn't have been a recent event. The rocks were too settled.

Was he even alive? Had he died instantly, or slowly? Did the sudden bombard of bolders break his spine and his neck on impact, giving him a swift death? Or did he suffer, chocking on his own blood as he slowly suffocated-

"—ya!"

Kaeya hoped he died quickly, if he was dead. Someone like Bennett didn't deserve a painful death. He didn't deserve half the shit that life threw at him.

"Kae—"

He didn't want him to be dead, though. He really didn't. That was the last thing he wanted. He wanted to see that smile again, to hear Bennett laugh and see the sparkle appear in those vibrant green eyes. He wanted to correct his stance as he held a practice sword, to reassure him whenever he made a mistake. Dammnit, he wanted to see him again-

"KAEYA!"

Kaeya snapped out of whatever trance he'd fallen into, everything rushing back to him.

Razor in his arms, clawing at his skin and ripping his sleeve, kicking, growling and screaming. Fischl, her wrist still clutched in his hand as she sobbed incomprehensible pleads, reaching towards the pile of stone.

Gerhard besides him, an almost frustrated and almost striken expression on his face as he grabbed his attention. The rest of the search party a small ways behind him.

"There you are," Gerhard sighed, having to raise his voice to be heard over Fischl and Razor. "Now, mind explainin' why those two are freaking out? Why the hell do you look like your about to throw up? And what's with the rocks?"

It was an honest question. One he had every right to know the answer to. Kaeya had no reason and no right to keep it from him, and yet, the words got stuck in his throat.

How could he tell him? How?

How could Kaeya tell the man before him, and everyone else, that Bennett—the boy they raised since he was a baby, their son—was underneath that pile of stone before him?

How was he expected to tell Gerhard his son could very well be dead, and they may have to uncover his broken corpse from the rocks?

Gerhard was staring at him, waiting. So was everyone else.

And Kaeya normally doesn't have a problem with any number of eyes on him, in fact the attention hardly phased him. But now? When he had to reveal something that could very well break their hearts, and his own because saying it will make it all the more real?

"Well?"

Kaeya took a deep breath, forcing whatever unwelcome stage fright he was feeling in that moment to disappear. He couldn't freeze up. He wasn't 6 years old anymore, flinching and tearing up whenever anyone even glanced in his direction one too many times.

He was an adult, the Calvary Captain of the Knights Of Favonius who has seen enough fucked up shit in his life that something like this shouldn't even make him bat an eye.

But it does. Because this time, it isn't some person he barely knew, whose name he didn't remember and whose face was unfamiliar to him. This was Bennett. This was the boy he had come to view as his little brother and by all the Archons he doesn't have a lick of faith in, it fucking hurt.

"..We've f-found Bennett." Kaeya tried to keep his voice as steady as he could, but it was almost impossible to do so, not when he was struggling to stop onslaught of tears that threatened well up in his eyes.

"What?" Someone from the crowd a few metres back exclaimed. "Where? Why didn't you call us over sooner?!" Many others shouted in agreement.

But Gerhard was looking at him with pinched brows, a frown marring his expression. He had heard something in his tone, seen something in his expression.

"...Where is he, Kaeya?" He probed, and Kaeya couldn't get the words out. He couldn't say it. He didn't want to say it.

His eyes glanced over to the pile of rocks hardly a few steps away.

Gerhards eyes followed.

His eyes snapped back to Kaeya, his expression reading nothing more then pure dread.

"No. No, that can't be right. Kaeya, don't tell me that the kid- that he's-" The older man's voice was strained. Suddenly, he appeared so much older then he truly was.

"Razor confirmed it." Was all he offered, and he watched the blood drain from the mans—Bennett's father's—face.

"...Bennett's under those rocks." Gerhard mumbled, almost questioning in how soft he spoke. It was like he was asking for more, for a denial and rebuttle, for someone to jump out and say it was a joke—that Bennett was alright, wasnt possible dead and would run into his awaiting arms any second now.

But Fischl's breath hitched, and her sobbing increasing tenfold, and that seemed to be all the further confirmation the man needed.

"Bennett's under those rocks." He repeated, louder. Loud enough that his voice carried through the clearing, over Razors growls and shouts and Fischl frantic sobbing. Loud enough that Kaeya felt his heart drop to his stomach, because hearing out loud, not once, but twice, cemented what was happening into reality.

For a second, the only thing that was heard was Fischl and Razor.

Then, all hell broke loose.

"HE'S WHAT?!" Ernest screamed, forcing his way to the found of the panicking, shouting crowd. "THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN HES UNDER THOSE ROCKS?!"

"THIS BETTER NOT BE SOME MESSED UP JOKE, KAEYA!" Another man shouted, tall with a missing arm—whose name Kaeya didn't remember and wouldn't even attempt to recall in that moment.

Eventually, there was so much screaming, shouts, accusations bring thrown into the air that Kaeya couldn't pick out any one sentence. It all bled together, the sounds of hurting fathers, men that didn't even want to the humour the idea of the boy they raised being buried, possibly crushed, under tones of stone.

Kaeya couldn't blame them for being angry, for calling him a liar. They weren't wrong.

He was a liar, he wouldn't deny that. He has lied about to many times, too many times, to be called an honest man. But this?

He wouldn't lie about something like this. Not when it involved Bennett. Never. He wasn't that cruel.

Not when this—oh how he wished it was a lie—was threatening to rip his heart from his chest and throw it into an icy, unforgiving fire.

He was so caught up in his own head, his own bubble of grief and regret, his mind to buidness trying to filter out the shouts around him and arms to busy restrainting Fischl and Razor, he failed notice one of the men from the search party marching over to him.

It wasn't until he heard the sound of flesh hitting flesh did he blinked awareness back into his surroundings, his head snapping towards the sound.

Gerhard stood before him, holding the trembling fist of a shorter man in his own. The two retired adventurers glared at each other.

"Move, Gerhard." The shorter man all but growled. Garhard refused to bugde.

"No."

"You can't seriously be defending him! He's wasting time we could be spent actually looking for Bennett with this fucked up joke-" The man began to shout, yanking his fist out of Gerhards as his expression contorted into one of near rage.

"He ain't lying about this!" Gerhard cut the shorter off, raising his voice to be heard by all around them. Suddenly, everyone was silent.

"Look, we don't know much about Kaeya, I ain't sayin' we do. But Bennett trusts him," He began, and not once did his voice falter. "That's gotta count for somethin'. Our boys unlucky, yes, but he's a good judge of character. If he trusts Kaeya, we gotta do the same." The man turned to look at Kaeya, his eyes narrowed, but not accusing.

"And I can tell he cares about Bennett—he wouldn't lie about this," The adventurers eyes then turned pleading, his expression softening with something like desperation. "Right?"

Kaeya nodded instantly, without hesitation, harsh enough he's sure he felt something in his neck click.

"I wouldn't. I promise, I can be a jerk, but not- not like that. I'd never lie about this."

Gerhards shoulders sagged, willing to take him at his word.

"See, men?" He turned around to again address the crowd. "Now, let's work to getting our boy out."

Bennett wasn't even sure if he was still alive.

It didn't feel like it. He couldn't tell if he was asleep, or awake, or even there at all.

He couldn't see. It hurt to breath, but at the same time it didn't. He thinks it hurt to breath. He couldn't.. feel anything. His throat was dry, so, so dry.. he felt so weak. He felt as heavy as lead yet as weight full as a dandelion in the wind.

Were his eyes even open? Was he even still breathing? Was he still alive?

He couldn't feel his leg. But he also couldn't feel any part of his body. Did he still have a body? It didn't feel like it.

It'd.. be scary if he didn't have a body. How'd he help his dads if he didn't have one? They had trouble moving around, they need his help.

...what.. did his dads look like again?

How.. how many where there?

He thinks more then 5. But under 20? Or was it more then 20? Under 5?

He didn't even know what those numbers meant.

He didn't know their faces. Couldn't see them. Couldn't picture them.

He couldn't.. he couldn't think. Why couldn't he think?

He misses his bed, the ground he's on is too hard. It is? He think it is.

He's late...

Late to what?

Blue hair. Pale eyes. Dark skin.

Name.. name.. who?

Ice..

He's cold.

Is he?

He's too hot.

No. That's not right.

He's.. tired..

Nap.. he wants to nap..

But he shouldn't.

Why?

Sunny afternoons being lazy on rocks, meat... wolfhooks. Good naps.

But no. He's scared.

Of what? Why was he scared? He should know. Why doesn't he know?

She'd know.

Whoses she?

Raven feathers. Blonde. Big words. Other worlds..

He can't picture faces. He can't.. can't..

cant..

He's so tired...

Dads.. dads.. he wants..

His..

Dads..

Who are they again?

So... dark..

Can't move..

Heavy..

So..

So..

So..

Heavy..

Heavy?

Heavy..

Can't breath-

Help-

Plea-se-

Heavy.

Chapter Text

Even with Gerhards reassurance, his ability to rangle a panicked crowd together and force people to take a deep breath, it took a while to organise everyone.

That was too be expected, however, given the current circumstances. The kid they've spent the last few days searching for was buried underneath tons of stone, Kaeya would be more unnerved if no one was on the verge of a breakdown.

And the fragile calm that had settled over everyone wasn't helped by the two children in their mists, Razor and Fischl, who were having breakdowns.

Razor was seemingly incapable of being comforted, lashing out at anyone who got to close and trying to make desperate lunges towards the rocks constantly. Kaeya and another, Hans—a well build man with bushy hair—had to forcefully pull him away, less he accidentally destabilise the rocks. The distressed whines and whimpers he let out were like a knife stabbing into Kaeya's heart, making all the bites, kicks and scratches he received feel more then deserved.

Hans was the one who stayed with the kid, keeping Razor locked in his arms in hopes he'd tire himself out before long, while Kaeya went to go console Fischl.

Fischl.. wasn't going much better then Razor was, in all honestly. She wasn't lashing out at anyone, and had calmed down some, but her tears refused to stop and she still struggled to draw in a proper breath. Kaeya made sure to direct her away from the stone pile, rubbing circles on her back and letting her cry into his chest.

Her Raven familiar was a constant presence by her side as well, perching on her shoulder and nuzzling her cheek as he did his best to comfort her when Kaeya pulled away to give her a moment to breath.

"Bennett's o-ok, right? He's- He's not-" Fischl sobbed, choking on her words as she tried to force them out. She didn't even seem to care that she was speaking without her normal grandiose, having forgotten her facade in her distress. "He'll be f-fine, right, K-Kaeya?"

I don't know. "I'm sure he will be."

She turned her teary gaze to him, and Kaeya felt his heart break even more then it already was—she was looking at him with pure desperation and hope and trust and he didn't know if could help her when he was just as distressed as she was, when he may very well be lying to her face when she was most vulnerable. "P-Promise?"

I can't do that, I don't know. "I promise."

Fischl kept her eyes on him for a few moments longer, before her breath hitched and she looked away, her hands cradling Ox to her cheek as she sobbed.

"He'll b-be ok, h-e'll be o-ok.." She repeated to herself like a mantra, a desperate prayer to gods Kaeya doubted were even bothering to listen.

But even so, Kaeya whispered the same prayer under his breath, closed his eyes and put faith to the Archons he hated so. He doesn't trust them, he doesn't believe in any of them, but..

But if it were possible, if they could make it so when they removed those rocks and pushed aside stone that he, and everyone else, wasn't met with a bloodied, broken corpse, then dammnit—he'd throw aside all of his hatred, his loathing, for them.

Please, please—don't take him from me too.

With Fischl and Razor being comforted—well, Fischl was being conformed—and kept away from the clearing, Gerhard utilised his leadership skills once more.

He hardly had to raise his voice to draw everyone's attention to him, every voice silencing while they waited with frazzled nerves for him to speak.

"We need to be careful about this," He began, and no one disagreed—they couldn't, not when he was right. They didn't know if Bennett was still alive under those rocks, and if he was, if they rushed and were clumsy when removing the stones then they could risk crushing him. "I say we start from the top—remove the lighter rocks before working towards the heavier ones."

There were murmers of agreement. It was a solid plan, in theory. However.. if they wanted to remove rocks without compromising the no doubt fragile integrity of the pile, they had to start removing the very topmost rocks.

But as it stood, the peak of the pile was far out of their reach, given the sheer size of the small mountain of rocks itself. None of them would be able to get close enough, without having to disturbed the rocks surrounding the peak. It was a.. tricky situations.

Though, the entire situation was, so Kaeya wasn't even surprised. Nothing could be easy for them.. not finding Bennett, and now unearthing him from what might be his tome-

No. He couldn't think like that. He needed to stop thinking like that.

The more pessimistic he was, the more his mood would degrade. He had to stop thinking as if Bennett was already dead, because he didn't know that—no one did.

He could be alive, just as much as he could be dead. But he couldn't focus on the latter possibility. He couldn't. He took a moment to take a deep breath to steady himself—to clear his mind.

Focus, Kaeya, he told himself. Bennett's counting on you, and by the Archons you hate you fucking better not let him down.

Now with a clear head, or as clear as he could get it, he turned his attention to the question currently at hand;

How where they going to get to the top of the pile without risking the structural integrity of the rest of the pile?

Gerhard must have realised the same question, for he suddenly called out to the crowd. "Who here has a vision?" His voice carried over the clearing with ease.

And just like that, the completive silence was broken as people answered.

However, very few could provide an answer. It wasn't surprising, given how rare vision were.

"I have! Pyro!" One called out, with bronze-blonde hair and pale orange eyes.

"Anemo here, Gerhard!" Another voiced, this time a man with a scratchy voice and a wispy moustache.

"I do, Gerhard! A Geo one." A third man called out, holding up a scared yet toned arm, said Geo vision clutched in his hand.

"Conard! Get over here, now." Gerhard guestured towards the third man, signalling him to his side, to which the man—Conard—did so, pushing through the crowd with ease.

"Can you make a pillar, tall enough to reach the top of the rocks, but angled so it can be climbed, lad?" Gerhard didn't beat around the bush, and no one expected nor wanted him too.

Conard took a moment to look at the ground at their feet, kneeling down and threading his hands through the dirt. He tsked, standing to his full height again. "Aye, I could. But it'd be unstable—the earth here is too soft for anything too solid."

A hiss of frustration swept through the retired adventurers. How inconvenient it was that those with a Geo vision have to rely on the surrounding earth to create their constructs, instead of being able to make it themselves. All they had was control over it, but not the ability to create it.

Kaeya took this as his turn to speak up, to throw in his contribution. "I can make some ice and line the underside of it to help keep it stable."

Gerhard turned to Conard, a question in his eyes, and the Geo wielder nodded after a brief moment of contemplation. "That'd work." He confirmed.

With the method decided, what was left was finding the place to construct the pillar. It needed to be close enough to the pile of rocks that it allowed whoever climbed it to reach the peak, but far enough away from the base so that it didn't disturb the rocks there.

This was the easiest part of the process, and once the area was agreed upon by everyone—opposite to the cliff face the landslide surely tumbled down—Conard and Kaeya set to work creating a stable enough structure.

Kaeya's patience was tested in the angled pillars creation. They needed to take it slow, Conard slowly raising the earth while Kaeya followed along by lining the underside with a sturdy layer of ice. They couldn't rush, and if they did they'd risk the pillar collapsing ontop the rocks.

They couldn't risk that. They- He wouldn't risk that.

So despite his nerves, despite how much he wanted to hurry up the process so he could finally save Bennett, Kaeya forced himself to follow Conards lead.

And it paid off, with the pillar being completed and stable roughly ten minutes later. Ten minutes to many, part of Kaeya hissed in distaste, but it was better then nothing.

With its completed construction, they could move onto the next part of Gerhards plan.

"Right, everyone!" The man shouted, as if everyone's attention hadn't already turned to him. "We're going to start removing the rocks from the top, workin' through the pile till we find Bennett." He explained, already making his way to the pillar.

Everyone watched silently as he climbed it, and even Gerhard seemed to be holding his breath. When it held, not even moving under his weight—and he wasn't a small man, well built with well defined muscles—everyone relaxed, as much as they could in the current situation.

"Those rocks aren't gunna be light, Gerhard," Ernest chimed in. "I ain't saying you're weak or nothing, but even you might struggle after a bit." Some words were left unsaid, but everyone understood. If he struggles, he may drop a rock where they can't risk a rock be dropped.

"If I'm reachin' my limit, then'll switch with someone." Was Gerhard's response, and no one protested.

A few men, Kaeya included, gathered around the base of the pillar, standing around at attention as Gerhard began the gruelling process of picking up the rocks, one by one.

Each one he carefully picked up, he dropped down to the waiting hands of the small crowd gather below him. Some rocks were smaller, and only needed one person to catch them and put them aside. Others were much heavier, often needing two or three people to handle safely.

It wasn't a fast process. It was slow, one stone at a time. But it was the safest, for everyone, and Bennett included.

Kaeya had to keep telling himself that. Becuase if he didn't, he didn't know what his impatience would have him do.

After a while, Gerhard grew tired. He took longer to grasp the rocks and even longer to hoist them up and drop them to everyone waiting below. He was struggling, because while he was strong, he was retired for a reason. He had his limits, and he was pushing them.

"Time to switch, old fella." A man stated, the one with the Anemo vision, and his tone left no room for argument. So with a huff, Gerhard dropped one last rock before climbing down from the pillar.

"Call me old fella one more time, Abelard, one more time.. I'm hardly a year older then ya." The man, Abelard, chuckled at that. He then took Gerhards place on top of the pillar, and continued where his fellow adventure retiree left off.

This switch took place a handful of more times—with Conard and Kaeya having to lower the height of the pillar some every so often as the pile of stone slowly got smaller—until eventually, Kaeya deemed it his turn.

Ernest sent him a look as he took his spot, but Kaeya didn't pay him any mind. He has more important things to focus on, much more important things.

The rocks were tough, pulling at the fabric of his gloves everytime he picked one up, and almost threatened to pull them right off his hands when he dropped them down. They were also heavy, a weight to them that had Kaeya pausing more then once to ensure he had a secure grip on them. He couldn't risk dropping them on the other rocks. He couldn't.

Somehow, he fell into a rhythm. Pick up a rock, turn, drop it down to the other men. Pick up a rock, turn, drop it down to the other men. Pick up a rock, turn, drop it down to the other men. Pick up a rock, turn, drop it down to the other men. Pick up a rock, see a glimpse of pale blonde hair, turn-

Wait.

Kaeya froze, eyes wide, and it was like the world froze.

Absent mindedly, he threw the rock in his hands to the others, ignoring the confused shouts of his name as he searched for that pale blonde he knew so well.

And when he saw it, a clump of dirtied, knotted blonde hair reflecting the light of the afternoon sun from a gap between a few rocks, he almost screamed.

His breath caught in his throat as he almost threw himself forward, chest pressed against the pillar supporting him, almost all care and delicacy thrown to the wind as his vision tunnelled, focusing of that blonde hair and its implications as he threw rock after rock out of his way.

The small gap grew wider and wider, the sun illuminating more of that pale blonde part of him never thought he'd get to see again, and then dirtied, scraped skin and ripped clothes, until—

Panic and reflect crawling up his throat, scratching at his esophagus and forcing tears to his eyes, Kaeya reached down into the newly formed hole, straining his arms to go further until—his finger tips brushed against skin.

Please be alive, please be alive, please please please, Bennett-

He latched on, like a starving man does to food, and pulled.

And a few seconds later, the boy they had been searching days for was in the light, and everything went silent for a moment.

"BENNETT!" Almost everyone shouted simultaneously, but Kaeya was too caught up in his own relief to truly hear it.

Filled with a new kind of determination, a desperation to see Bennett out and away from this accursed pile of fucking rocks, he hooked his arms underneath Bennett's armpits, sitting up on his knees himself, and tried to lift him out

Key word, tried.

A small, hardly there noise left Bennett's lips—a groan of pain, one that had Kaeya thrown back into the world proper.

The first thing he heard was the sound of everyone shouting in relief, shock, happiness and pure joy, while hardly holding themselves back from scrambling up the remaining rocks to get to their son.

The next thing he noticed was the awkward position he held Bennett—limp, he was limp and weak—at. The boys back was being arched uncomfortably, having been previously laying—or pinned?—on his stomach before Kaeya lifted him up.

The third, and most important, thing was that he couldn't lift Bennett out of the odd cave like structure he had be struck in.

Something was stopping him. Keeping him stuck.

Kaeya quickly leaned forward, once again ignoring everyone, keeping Bennett in his arms as he peered into into the hole. There wasn't much light shining into it, but it was enough for Kaeya to find what he needed.

And it made his already shattered heart splinter in his chest.

Bennett's left leg was pinned under a rock. A very, very heavy one by the looks of it.

"KAEYA!" He heard Gerhard shout up at him. "What the hell are you doing?! Get him out and down here!"

"I can't pull him out!" Kaeya shouted in return, leaning backwards and directing his head towards the crowd. "He's leg's pinned!"

"What?" Gerhard half shouted back, his voice faltering in shock and.. fear. He had just seen his son again, just gotten confirmation that he wasn't crushed to death, but still couldn't hold him in his arms. There had to be something else in the way.

"He's legs pinned under a rock! If I try pulling him out, it'd just hurt him more!" Kaeya stressed, turning his head back to the boy in his arms. He couldn't even tell if Bennett was concious, his breath weak and ragged.

No one said anything, but everyone seemed to instinctively know what to do.

All the men all but launched at the pile, pulling rock after rock away with none of the care from before—not one cared enough to. Not when they knew Bennett was out, not when all they had to do to get him back to Mondstat safe and were he belongs was free his leg.

It hardly took anytime at all for the retired adventurers to locate the offending piece of stone, and the moment it was removed, the moment Kaeya felt that force keeping Bennett stuck slacked, the pulled the kid out without hesitation.

He almost fell backwards because of the motion, but before he and Bennett could tumble down the pillar, hands were at his back making sure he and the kid had a soft landing.

And the moment he was on the ground, Bennett cradled to his chest, everyone was huddling around, doing all they could to get a good look at their boy after so long.

But Kaeya tuned them all out, his attention focused solely on Bennett—who was still breathing as if he was barely hanging on.

"Bennett, Bennett," He gently called to the kid, shifting his body and their position until he sat with Bennett laying across his lap, his upper back, neck and head supported by his arm. "It's Kaeya, I'm right here, I'm here—you're ok now."

He hadn't even known if Bennett could hear him, could hear the desperation and relief in his voice, and maybe he was saying it all to comfort himself, to cemente it in his mind that Bennett was right there, in his arms.

But when he saw those grass green eyes he adored so much crack open, weak and hardly seeing, Kaeya felt as if he'd break down sobbing right then and there.

"K.. K'ya?" Bennett mumbled, the name slurred, voice weak and raspy.

"Yeah, Bennett, it's me." He nodded almost hysterically, cupping his little brothers cheek and caressing the dirtied skin of his cheekbone with his thumb. "I'm right here."

And Bennett was silent for a moment, before his lower lip wobbled, and Kaeya felt tears well up in his own eyes at the sight.

"K'ya.. K-Ka'ya..!" Bennett whined, squeezing his eyes shut as he weakly tried to bury his face in the fabric of Kaeya's shirt, his body trembling with dry sobs.

Kaeya gently shushed him, leaning down and kissing the crown of his head, not caring for how dirty his hair was, and gently rocking back at forth as he held Bennett close.

He'd worry about everything later, he'd address the other men shouting at him and calling Bennett's name later, because right now?

Right now he was going to comfort his hurt, upset and vulnerable little brother, and no one, not even Gerhard or any of Bennett's other dads, were going to stop him.

Thank you, he prayed to Archons he had no faith in, Thank you, Thank you for bringing him back alive.

Chapter Text

The clinic inside the Cathedral was not a place Kaeya visited often—it's marble floors and stones walls were foreign to him, despite being so similar to the worship hall just a few paces away.

He remembers the few times Crepus had taken him here when he was younger, or when he came along when Diluc went in for a check up. They were always quick visits, and it didn't take long for Crepus to switch to at home doctor visits. It saved everyone the trip into the city—Diluc was a very excitable lad, it took forever to get ready and out of the house, not to mention on time—and Kaeya had to say he preferred it that way.

The winery was familiar, comfortable. The clinic was not.

It was too clean. To stationary—almost unmoving. So quiet but so loud at the same time.

It didn't feel genuine. It felt fake. Wrong. Clinical—but really, wasn't that to be expected? It was a clinic.

It wasn't a place anyone should spent any lengthy amount of time in.

It wasn't a place for Bennett.

It was too cold and static, the opposite of Bennett—who was so warm and bright and so lively. He was too bubbly to be in a place like this.

But he was. All his injuries lead him to his presence in the waiting room becoming commonplace, but at least all those visit were temporary. Short. Quick.

He was always himself during those check ups.

He wasn't now.

He wasn't warm. He wasn't bright.

He was almost as unmoving as the place itself and.. and it hurt Kaeya to see.

It hurt to see his little brother so.. so unlike himself. So hurt. So.. so small. Bennett always brightened up the room around him, but now all that light wasn't there.

Kaeya sat at the boys bedside, watching the steady—but slow. It was so slow—rise and fall of his chest. To remind him that he was still here; he was still breathing. He was still alive.

He tried to ignore all the marks covering the kids body—the bandages that wrapped around him. He'd been cleaned of all the dirt and dust, but he didn't look any less banged up.

Garhard was sitting on the opposite side of the bed, clutching Bennett's limp hand in his own, stroking the back with a calloused thump. Ernst sat next to him, a hand on the other mans shoulder, but his eyes were on Bennett.

No one had spoken a single word for a while. Not since they arrived at the clinic, carrying the kids unmoving form in toe, not since the attending Sisters and Nurses took him without question, rushing to get him somewhere sterile, not since everyone was forced to wait in the waiting room until Barbara came to get them, looking years older then she should.

The journey back to Mondstat had been one Kaeya hardly remembered. It was rushed and so very slow at the same time.

All he remembered was the the weight in his arms, the limp body he was carrying, listening to Bennett's cut off breaths and weak groans of pain at all the movement.

No one had wasted any time, and many had rushed ahead to make sure they'd had a clear shot to the Cathedral the moment they arrived at the gates.

He thinks Ernst shoved many guards out of the way, maybe a few civilians to, and the scene they must have caused. But that wasn't what anyone cared about, not when it meant they could get Bennett the help he urgently needed.

Handing him off to the nurses was much harder then it should have been.

Kaeya hadn't wanted to let go. He couldn't—what if he disappeared the moment he left his arms? What if he- he died when he wasn't there? He'd never get to say goodbye, he'd never–

In the end Garhard had taken Bennett from his arms, forcefully but Kaeya knew it had been necessary. He had placed a small kiss on his child's head before handing him over to the Nurses without question, nothing but a plead to save him.

Kaeya remembers hearing the tail ends of some of the nurses frantic words and shouted orders.

"-prepare a room, now!"

"Someone get Sister Barbara-"

"Oh Barbatos, his leg-"

"-pulse is weak, declining as we speak-"

"—so much blood, we need water and disinfectant-"

Kaeya didn't hear anything after that, some Sisters shoving him and all the others watching and listening into the waiting room and slamming the doors in their face for the foreseeable future.

The wait was the worst part. Everyone was restless, pacing the room and constantly asking for updates.

Fischl had completely broken her facade, approaching any nurse who would look at her and begging for news about her best friend.

Razor hadn't entered the Clinic—the boy wouldn't have been allowed in anyways, being feral as he was—but Kaeya thinks he heard someone say Lisa was with him.

Garhard seemed to have aged 5 years every hour that passed with no update besides the same response; "The Nurses are doing all they can to see to his survival."

Kaeya hated that he knew nothing—but he wasn't the only one. Everyone was upset and worried. And all the other men present were Bennett's parents. The men that took him in and raised him—he was their son.

Kaeya hardly had the right to be worrying as much as he was, but he couldn't help it. The feeling festered in his chest and refused to removed its claws from his shattered heart.

It was hours before they heard any meaningful news.

The sun had almost set, the sky darkening outside the windows, and Archons, was everyone tired. But any and all weariness disappeared when an exhausted Barbara walked into the waiting room.

Immediately everyone had bombarded her with question after question—"Is he alive?", "How is he?", "Can we see him?"—and it was only when another nurse scolded everyone for crowding the young Sister did everyone take a step back.

"Bennett is alive," Was the first thing Barbara said, and that alone had everyone letting out shouts of joy and sighs if relief. "And he is stable for now. Most of his more superficial wounds have been treated."

...everyone sensed the 'but' that was coming.

"He... I- He was in a very critical condition when you brought him to us," Barbara become, her voice breaking slightly as she tried to settle her nerves. She looked so.. so tired. "He was severely dehydrated, a-and on the brink of starvation, it-"

She took a deep breath suddenly. There was a pause.

...

Then she continued.

"His.. Bennett's leg was broken, I-I'm sure you all saw—" Everyone did. It was nauseating, the way his leg was twisted, limp and blackened with bruises and blood and Kaeya thinks he saw bone- "The bone was shattered. An- An infection had already set in."

There was another pause.

"Are.. are you sayin'.." Gerhard hesitantly spoke up, a certain tinge of fear in hid voice.

Barbara sucked in a breath, her eyes suddenly overcome by a wet, shiny sheen. "I-I did all I could! B-but the bone was broken beyond repair, t-the flesh was necrotic, the infection- I tried, my healing wasn't enough- I'm so s-sorry-" She cut herself off, a hand coming up to covering her mouth as she held back a sob. She turned away, unable to face them any longer.

The nurse accompanying Barbara placed a comforting hand on the younger girls shoulder, another on her head in an attempt to sooth. "...We had no choice but to amputate."

Keaya eyes travelled down the length of the bed, leaving Bennett's resting face, stopping at a dip in the blanket that shouldn't be there.

Just above where the knee should start on Bennett's left leg, was nothing. There was no mass to support the blanket, no leg for it to drape over. There wasn't anything there.

..that had been a hard pill for everyone to swallow—it worried everyone.

Bennett was an active child; he was constantly moving, never still, even in his sleep—besides now, he was so, so still now.

And with all the adventures he went on—he doubts his gaurdians will let him go on any of those anytime soon, however, and Kaeya had to agree with them, after everything—suddenly missing an entire leg..

Kaeya didn't know how Bennett would react to the news, when he woke up.

Speaking of him waking up..

Kaeyas eyes drifted back up to the kids face, a frown marring his expression.

They didn't know when Bennett would wake up. Barbara, nor any of the nurses, were able to give them a definite answer. Estimations ranging from a few days, to a few weeks; in the end, it all depended on Bennett. When his body deemed itself ready to wake up.

...some nurses said there was a chance he'd never wake up at all. He was stable right now, but there was talk of there being some lingering head trauma. The shock, the stress, all the injuries that went untreated for days and festered in the dirt and dust, some nurses theorised it might’ve been to much for him.

No one even dared to humour that possibility. He'd wake up—he would, Kaeya was certain. It's just, when he would that.. he wasn't sure.

But he would be there for him. Through the recovery, both mental and physical—He'd be there. And so would his fathers, all of them. Many of the retired adventures had been sifting through the room, all spending time at their sons bedside.

Infact, Kaeya hadn't even been one of the first people to visit Bennett when the nurses allowed people into his room. He couldn't even be upset about it.

He may consider himself to be very close to Bennett—the kid was like his brother in all but blood—but those men were his father's. He could wait his turn. And he had.

And now.. he sat with Gerhard and Ernst still present. They had refused to leave Bennett side since they were allowed to be there. Kaeya.. had the feeling that they are the kids primary caretakers.

None of them had spoken a word to each other since Kaeya had taken his seat on the opposite side of the bed. The air was tense, they all could tell, but there was a deep worry and fear rooted in all three of their hearts, so they didn't care to address it. They didn't want to.

Eventually, visiting hours came to an end, and a nurse came into the room to ursher Kaeya out.

No one told Garhard and Ernst to leave.

"Parents can stay the night," The nurse explained without prompting. "It's helps keep stress low. And.. incase the boy wakes up, the faces of his parents are sure to reassure him. Lord Barbatos knows he'd need it."

When he returned home that night, the sun merely a few hours away from rising, he was greeted by the sight of his Alchemist lover, waiting for him. It wasn't often that happened, with both of them being hounded by their work.

Wordlessly, Kaeya fell into Albedo's embrace. The shorter placed a hand to the back of Kaeya's head, undoing the ribbon keeping his ponytail together. It was nice, soothing, the feeling of fingers carding through his hair.

"I'm worried, 'bedo.." Kaeya mumbled into his lovers shoulder, his fingers digging into the fabric of the others shirt. His lover didn't need him to clarify who he was talking about. "He's not- he was so still.. I've never seen him so still before."

Albedo hummed, a small comforting sound.

"He was cold." Kaeya sounded pitiful to his own ears, his words thick and wet. "H-He was so cold, Albedo." He chocked back a sob, his vision distorting, blurring.

"He's in the best of hands right now, Kaeya. He'll recover, and he'll have all the support he needs to do so. We'll all make sure of it." And someone, hearing the Alchemist say that reassured Kaeya more then anything.

Albedo was smart, much smarter then himself, and Kaeya wasn't afraid to admit that. He was calculated and knowledgeable, his genius second to none. So for him to say, with confidence, Bennett was going to get better, that he would be taken care of? Maybe it was navie of him, because even his lover could make mistakes. Calculations can be wrong and genius can be subjective.

But maybe, just maybe, he was just to tired to care about that right now. Maybe his worry and fear and regret at not being able to help had him beyond exhausted. He was tried.

"Let's get you to bed, now." And Albedo's voice had always done wonders in helping him fall asleep, strivings off his nightmares and curbing his doubts. He was still worried, he was still scared, but..

A little sleep sounded amazing right now.

He said nothing as Albedo lead him to their bedroom, sliding his coat off his shoulders and unbuttoning his shirt, taking his shoes off and helping him out of his pants. It was odd, having someone help him do something as simple as getting changed into his nightwear, but he was so tired. And his lover said nothing to object. His hands were so gentle, and he made sure to illustrate everything he was doing as he did it. Kaeya felt spoilt, being so tenderly cared for.

It wasn't long that they were both laying in bed, Kaeya clinging onto the smaller form of his beloved, nuzzling into his chest while the Alchemist ran his fingers through his hair and kissed the crown of his head oh so gently, with sleep just a hairs breath away.

And just as sleep was about to whisk him away, for what felt like the hundredth time in the last 5 days, Kaeya prayed to the Archons he loathed so.

Please, Help Bennett get better soon. Help him recover. Help him wake up.

Chapter Text

When Bennett woke up, he didn't realise it.

The process from going from asleep to awake was too instantaneous for his sluggish mind to notice.

Becoming aware that such a process had occurred, however, wasn't as seamless.

Sensations came slowly, bleeding in at a snails pace that they might as well have not been there at all. But they were.

Bennett felt like he was floating for a while. But that couldn't be right, because his body felt so heavy, and there was.. something under him. But he didn't know what it was, it was just something.

There was something covering him, too. It was light. But not comfortable. It covered him from the neck down, he thinks.

The air was cold. Against his skin. It hurt to breath. There was a smell in the air, one Bennett felt like he knew but he just.. couldn't remember what it was or why it was familiar.

Sections of his skin felt tight.

...his head hurt. A lot. A constant ache.

His entire body hurt, actually.

Voices. He could hear voices. Whispers? They were familiar to. Why? He didn't know what they were saying. But he knew them. How did he know them?

There was light infront of his eyelids. Bright. Too bright.

He tried lifting his arm, but it only managed to twitch before the full-body ache spiked and he groaned at the pain.

...the whispers stopped.

A moment later, they began again, except they weren't whispering anymore. They were louder, it hurt his head—loud, loud, too loud—they were saying his name?

He groaned again, and the voices stopped.

They called out again, softer this time.

They sounded so familiar. But he didn't know why.

He couldn't see them. His eyes were still closed. He wanted to see them, who they were.

It was.. a struggle to get his eyelids to corporate.

It's like something was holding them down, refusing to let them open but he wanted to see.

So he didn't let that weight win, and he pushed and pushed and pushed until—

Light.

It was so bright.

He winced, his eyes open in a squint again the light, stinging and watering. Why was it was bright? He couldn't see what he wanted to see, see the owner of the voices. It hurt.

One of the voices snapped something, rushed, there was a scraping sound, footsteps? The rustle of fabric and then—

It wasn't so bright anymore.

Bennett blinked, trying to clear the water from his eyes, to clear up his vision. Everything was so spotty. Blurry. Like he was underwater. His eyes hurt as if he was too. Stinging.

After a moment, he could make out the shape of two people next to him. Above him? He was looking up them from below. Was he laying down?

He couldn't.. make out there faces, his vision was refusing to focus. Who?...

He looked away from the strangers—they weren't strangers, they weren't strangers, but he didn't know why but he just knew, how—and to his surroundings.

It was.. grey. And white. ...clinical.

How was it clinical?

He wasn't in a clinic-

..where was he?

He didn't- where was he?

He couldn't be in a clinic, because the last place he remembered being was-

Heavy.

So, so heavy.

Weight everywhere, crushing him, his leg—

Dark, so dark-

The air thick, dust and dirt filling his lungs, drowning him, drowning—

Pain, so much pain-

He couldn't move-

Scared, he was scared, so scared, he didn't want to die—he was going to die he didn't want to die-

it hurt, it hurt, it hurt, ithurtithurtithurtithurtithurtithurtiTHURTITHURTITHURTMAKEITSTOPMAKEITSTOPDADSHELPITHURTS-

Bennett choked.

His breath caught in his throat, held back by the scream tried to leave his mouth.

He flailed around, kicking, pushing—there was a weight on him, too heavy, rocks, nonogetoffgETOFF-

Something grabbed him.

He did scream this time, high and loud and desprate and his throat was so dry it hurt- but he was scared, let go, letgoletgoI'mscared-

He pushed away whatever had grabbed him, his arms aching at the strain but he didn't care, he needed whatever it was to get away from him and he needed the rocks to get off.

But they wouldn't. No matter how much he kick and struggled and pushed, the weight didn't leave.

And it was long until that something came back again, grabbing him and this time he lashed out, yanking his arm out of its grasp and swiping blindly in his panic.

His hand collided with something—soft? No, fleshy? A pained grunt reached his ears, and he froze.

Everything was suddenly so quiet.

Bennett blinked rapidly, the spots clearing from his vision.

Revealing that he wasn't trapped under those rocks anymore, he was sitting upright on a bed in the clinic, the clinic he visit way to many times.

Revealing it wasn't rocks covering him, weighing him now, but just a thin blanket.

Revealing the faces of two of his dads.

One of which cheek was red, the beginning of a bruise already forming.

Bennett was choking again, but for a different reason this time.

"...D-Dad?"

He just hit one of his dads.

He just hit his dad.

Tears sprung to his eyes, and when they started to fall, he couldn't get them to stop.

"D-Dad! I- I'm sorry- Dad!" He cried, the focus of his sobs making his entire body shake, his breaths coming in gasps as he reached out because he was sorry, he didn't mean to hit him, he was just scared and he didn't know it was him and Archons he was so scared, I want my dads-

Both of his dads—it was Garhard and Ernst—rushed forward without a second thought, neither of them caring he had just hit one of them, wrapping their arms around him and Garhard held him against his chest and stroked his hair like he did when he was little-

Bennett clung to them, a hand gripping each other their shirts in a death grip, holding tight and he never wanted to let go, to be let go.

"I- I was- was-" trapped under rocks for I don't know how long, I couldn't move, could hardly breath, I thought I was going to die-

"We know, we know," Ernst shushed him, running a three-fingered hand up and down his back, "We're- We're so sorry, Bennett, so sorry." His voice was strained, filled with guilt.

"We should'a found you sooner," Garhard continued, his voice was just as guilty, as sorrowful, "But- You're okay now, your safe, we got you—your daddy's got you." He promised, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the crown of his head and-

And Bennett heaved a sob at that, pressing himself further into his dads chest as he cried because would keep him safe.

Bennett doesn't know how long it took for his tears to dry.

He didn't really care, not when he was cradled in his dads lap like he was. It had been years since they'd done this—with Bennett growing to big to be held so close, especially with his dads faulty joints. That wasn't an issue now, or at least, no one cared.

...Bennett was grateful for that.

He was still trembling, his body twitching minutely as he sniffled, but he wasn't crying anymore, his breaths coming in even and not choked.

"..'m sorry for hitting you.." He found the strength to apologise, even if speaking scratched at his too raw throat. He couldn't not say sorry.

His voice had been muffled, his face still buried in his dads chest, but Garhard and Ernst still heard him.

"You got nothin' to apologise for, Bennett." Garhard reassured, and he wanted to protest—he had hit him—but before he could, Ernst cut in. "You were scared, bud, it wasn't your fault."

"But-"

The man tutted, reached over and ruffling his hair gently—it was more of a comforting pat then anything else. "No buts. Besides, it was a mighty good backhand. Be proud of it."

Bennett couldn't stop the small chuckle that left him at that.

"You got a good arm on ya, my cheek's gunna be smartin' for a week. But I wouldn't expect any else from our boy." Garhard threw in, his voice carrying a proud tilt.

"I bet it's because of my stew. Packed with a lot of protein, that where he's getting his muscle from." Ernst commented, a smirk on his face.

"You know as well as I do that it's my Steak and Kidney pie that's giving him his muscles."

"Eh, Bennett like my stew more though."

Garhard gasped in mock offense, turning his eyes to Bennett as if for confirmation.

"..I still like your pie." Was all he said. And he wasn't lying, he did like it. It's just.. the stew was maybe, just little wee bit better.

"I told ya!" Ernst boasted smugly, and Garhard hung his head in jested sorrow.

Bennett earlier chuckle soon turned into an outright laugh, his body shaking for an entirely different reason now.

His dads joined in on his laughing, until it was the only thing any of them could hear in the clinical room.

Archons, he loved this. Being in his dads arms, held close, watching as they bantered and joked around with each other, laughing with them and spending time together.

They.. didn't do this as often as they used to. He was out of the house more often then not, going on his small adventures, hanging out to Fischl and Razor, having his lessons with Kaeya. And when he was home, he was helping all his dads, all of them, around the house—their injuries were worse then when he was younger, they couldn't be as active as they used to be.

...He missed it. Missed this.

But he'd make more of an effort to just be with them now. Especially after.. he'd spent more time with them.

Eventually, Bennett ribs started to hurt from all the laughing. Really hurt. Actually, everything started to hurt more. And soon laughter turned into coughs, and the joyful moment was over.

His dads immediately stopped laughing, their faces pinched with concern and he felt so bad—it was just a bit of pain, he was used to pain, he could handle it. But the more he thought that, the worse his headache, the ache in his entire body, seemed to get.

His leg itched, too. Bad.

Garhard cleared his throat before speaking. " 'right, time get you layin' down again. Nurses said you aren't meant to be moving right now."

And with that, his dad gently took him off his lap and laid him back down on the bed—not before Ernst made sure the quickly fluff the pillows for him, not that it did a lot. Bennett was very familiar with how stiff they were from all his previous visits.

They were silent for a moment while Bennett tried to get as comfortable as he could on the not so comfortable bed, Garhard adjusting the blanket still draped over him so he did so more evenly.

Thing was, Bennett couldn't get comfortable. He knew the beds were bad, but he never really had an issue with them before. But something just felt.. off.

His leg was still itching, too. A lot more then before.

He went to sit up so he could scratch it, but Ernst nudged him back down before he could even lift him head. "You need to rest, bud. All the movin' you did before is too much then what your supposed to be doing right now." He spoke softly, almost regretfully. Which.. kind of made sense.

Bennett hasn't liked any of the any times he's had to be on bed-rest before—like that time he broke his foot when he was 10, or when he sprained his back when he was 12—and he knew his dads hated seeing how stir-crazy the lack of movement made him.

And he might not know just how much he got hurt this time, just going off on how sore he was..

Bed-rest was probably the best, for now. So he nodded, leaning back into the pillow with a sigh.

But his leg was still so itchy.

"Anythin' we can get for you, Bennett? More pillows? A better blanket then this flimsy thing?" Garhard asked, and that reminded him of how raw and dry his throat was.

"Water? Please." And Archons, wow, how is he only now noticing just how really horrible he sounded? Yep, water would be amazing.

"Oh, yes, water—'course you'd be thirsty, how didn't I think of that?" The last bit was mumbled to himself, but Garhard quickly got to his feet with the smallest shake of his head. "I'll go get that for you, I'll be right back."

With that, Ernst was the only other person in the room with him, sitting next to him on the right-hand side of the bed.

And his leg was still itching. So much so it was almost hurting.

"Hey, Dad?" Bennett spoke up, timidly, and Ernst answered right away. "Yes?"

"Do you.. could you scratch my leg for me? Please? My shin. It's, um, really bugging me." It felt like such a dumb thing to ask for, but his entire body hurt, so sitting up to scratch it himself, when he wasn't supposed to be moving much, really didn't sound like that best idea. And he'd been stopped when he tried to himself, so..

It didn't stop his cheeks from turning red in embarrassment, though.

"Oh, Yeah, ofcourse." Ernst didn't care, and was leaning down the bed to do as requested. He lifted up part of the blanket, reaching under and—

Scratched the wrong leg. Bennett mentally face-palmed—it wasn't his dads fault, he was stuipd and didn't specify which leg.

"No, uh, my left leg. Sorry." He chuckled nervously at his own lack of foresight.

Bennett expected Ernst to chuckle with him, maybe make a small good-natured quip, and go on to do as asked.

He didn't expect him to freeze in place, hand as frigid as stone where he was against his shin, much like a caught deer in torchlight.

"...dad?" Ernst didn't response, his face morphing into an expression was reeked of regret and sorrow and guilt, but—why?

He knew it was a weird ask, but- how could it make his dad freeze like that? He didn't react like that when he asked him to scratch his leg, so why did him finally specifying which leg it was make him look so guilty?

"Dad?" He repeated, and this time Ernst flinched. Flinched. His hand came up to cover his mouth, and his eyes flickered around the room for a solid, achely silent moment before they locked onto him again.

"Bennett, I-" He cut himself off, his voice almost chocked, and now Bennett was really worried. "I'm- I'm so sorry, bud."

Why was his dad sorry?

What was going on?

"Why- Why are you sorry? Dad?" Ernst looked even more guilty at the panic he heard in Bennett's voice, and that just served to make him even more worried.

"I- Bennett- Archons, this is-" He took a deep breath as if steeling himself. For what? "When- when we found you, you were.. you were really hurt."

Bennett had figured that, hence him being in the Cathedral clinic, but how did that-

"And your leg.. it.. it was bad, bud."

"...h-how bad?"

"It was-" His dad seemed to choke on his words, because he cleared his throat before starting again. "...we.. we should wait for Garhard to get back. Me and him will explain it then."

What? No! He didn't- His dad couldn't say that and then not explain! He didn't want to wait! How bad was it?!

Bennett forced himself to sit up, ignoring the pain it brought, ignoring his dads almost frantic shout, pushing away his hands that they trying to, as gently as possible, get him to lay down again.

It was a struggle, but after forcing his dads hands away with a push, he grabbed the side of the thin, clinic blanket that was had been messed up due to the movement but was still covering his lower half, and yanked it off of him.

What he saw had his breath freezing in his lungs.

Well, it was more what he didn't see.

His left leg, from the knee downward, was missing. Gone. It wasn't there. It was a stump, bandages wrapped tightly around it and—they were stained with various shades of red.

But- but it was itching. He could feel his leg itching. How-

His leg was gone.

Not for the first time that day, Bennett screamed.

Chapter Text

My leg is gone.

That was all Bennett could think about, the only thing swirling through the chaotic mess that was his head.

He hardly realised he was still screaming, chest heaving sporadically as his body tried to draw in air but he wasn't allowing it. His hands had latched onto his dad, all but clawing at the man's chest as he shook, yet his eyes never left his legs.

His leg. Singular.

My leg is gone.

He didn't hear Ernsts desperate attempts to calm him down, his hands grasping his shoulders and trying to get him to look away—trying to redirect his attention to literally anything else because Barbatos damned, it hurt seeing his little boy scream like this-

He didn't hear Gerhard charge back into the room, some nurses at his heel, nor did he see when his dad rushed to his side just as ferociously and joined Ernst in trying to calm him down.

But he couldn't calm down.

His leg was gone—gone. And he hadn't noticed. How did he just- not notice his leg was gone?!

Tears fell from his eyes as his screaming turned into sobs, his breaths—or the lack thereof—turning into chocked gasps as he continued to stare.

My leg is gone.

My leg is gone.

My leg is gone.

My leg is gone. My leg is gone. My leg is gone. My leg is gone my leg is gone my legisgonemylegisgonemylegisgonemylegisgonemylegisgo-

He left hands on his face and then suddenly he wasn't looking at his leg—his singular leg, Archons, singular—anymore, but instead the panicked face of his dad. Gerhard grips was by no means harsh, but it was firm in a way that made sure Bennett couldn't look at anything but him.

"Bennett, breath. Please kiddo, breath." The old adventurer pleaded, eyes narrowed in the way only a worried fathers eyes could.

And Bennett wanted to listen, he really did, but he just couldn't. His lungs spasmed in his chest, forcing out whatever air his body tried to take in and he couldn't make it stop, he couldn't take a breath, he couldn't focus enough to force his lungs to work properly—not when he was to busy panicking over his legs-

Fuck, he only had on leg now.

He only had one leg.

"Da-d-" Bennett choked out the word, sputtering and crying, chocking and so scared and he couldn't breath- "M-My leg-" Gerhard gently shushed him, tightening his grip on his face when his eyes tried to look down.

"I know, I know." His dads voice sounded almost as choked at his own, guilty in a way Bennett had never heard before.

"I- I can st-ill feel i-it-" It was still itchy—so stupidly itchy and it wasn't going away but that didn't make any sense because it wasn't there-

"I'm so sorry, Bennett, we'll explain it to you soon, I promise, but right now you need to breath, baby, please."

He knew his dad was right; his head was starting to feel light and fuzzy, and his chest hurt so much, but he just couldn't.

"I-I ca-n't-"

"You can, baby, I know you can—Follow me, ok? Match your breathing with daddy." Bennett shakily nodded, and Gerhard began talking deliberate, slow and meaningful breaths, he did his best to do the same.

He choked on more then a few, and he almost spiralled back several times, but eventually he was talking breaths that actually got air into his lungs. They weren't strong and calm, like his dads, but he wasn't choking anymore—and that was good enough for now, because Bennett didn't think he was able to calm himself down any further.

Gerhard realised this too, because he gave him a gentle, approving smile and gently ran his fingers through his hair. "Thats it's—told you you could do it." He said with a chuckle, trying to ease the tense air. And yet, Bennett did not have it in him to smile.

The two retired adventurers stared a look, then—communicating in a silent way only people as close as they were to each other could, and without a word, Ernst gently took hold of Bennett's hands, still clutching his shirt at his chest, and pryed them away.

No words were said when Ernst transferred Bennett into Gerhards arms—and while Bennett normally would've hated being babied as he was, being treated so fragile, at that moment he didn't care. Because at that moment, he was fragile. And damnit—he just wanted to stay in his dads arms and cry and scream scratch the damn itch that was on his leg that didn't make sense because his leg wasn't there anymore-

He forced himself to take a big, deep breath before he could spiral again—his hands grabbing onto Gerhard and holding tight to further ground himself.

Nothing was said for a while. Even the Nurses that had rushed in at hearing Bennett's screaming were standing respectfully to the side—they knew better then to interpret such a necessary moment, less the peace be broken and panic ensured again. So, they'd stand back and let Garhard and Ernst explain, and only step in if asked, or Bennett was in the mindframe to corporate for a brief physical examination.

Gerhard leaned his head down until he nuzzled the crown of Bennett's head, placing a kiss there before softly clearing his throat.

"...You were in a bad shape when we found ya', kiddo." He began gently, keeping his voice low and tone gentle. "A.. really bad shape."

"Worse then that time you fell out the second floor window when you were 8." Ernst added, and Bennett wanted to wince at the memory. He'd broken his right shoulder, three ribs and severely bruised his hip—he was lucky to not have fractured his skull or a broken his hip.

"Way worse." Gerhard reinforced, and clearly regretted doing so when he felt his son tense in his arms.

"The Nurses were able to heal most of it," He was quick to say, but it did little to reassure Bennett. "But, uh.."

There was a pause. And then, Ernst piped up.

"They couldn't heal your leg." His voice was sombre, low and regretful—if only they had found him sooner—and Bennett felt his hand come up to rub a rounding, soothing circle on his back.

"..Why?" Bennett whispered, hoarsely. He doesn't remember all to much of being.. being.. of what happened, and frankly, he didn't want to, but he did remember his leg getting pinned by a boalder much heavier then the rest. He remembered this, and knew at the very least it definitely would've broken it, but.. but surely, it couldn't have been that bad, right?

...He knew it had been. But he didn't want to believe it.

"...We couldn't find ya' for days, kiddo.. b-by the time we did, it—your leg.." He trailed off, lips pressed into a thin line as he struggled to find the right words. He wanted to say it gently, to make it easy to hear, but he just.. didn't know how.

The sudden silence had Bennett tensing again, his grip on his dads arm tightening as his breath threatened to hitch again, because just how bad was it and why wouldn't his dad just tell him-

Finally, one of the nurses spoke up.

"Infection had already set in by the time you were brought to the Cathedral, Bennett." His eyes snapped towards the woman who spoke—an short woman, further in her years with dark blonde hair that he recognised as one of the nurses that treated him when Barbara wasn't available. Her voice was calm and trained in the way only an experienced medical professions could be—and yet, it was caring and understanding all the same.

"The flesh had already become necrotic in many places, as well. And paired with the fact you were severely dehydrated and starved—I know it doesn't make it any better, but please know we did our very best to save all we could, our healing just.. wasnt enough, Im afraid. However, if we hadn't amputated when we did, chances are you would have lost your entire leg—if not your life—instead of only half of it."

Ernst couldn't stop himself from sending a glare the nurses way. He was grateful she took the liberty to explain when neither he nor Gerhard could, but did she have to word it as she did? Telling Bennett he could've died—they all knew this, and he was sure deep down the kid did as well, but to tell him so bluntly when he had just barely recovered from a breakdown?

He bit his tongue before he could snap at the woman, instead turning all of his attention back to Bennett, who had yet to say a single word in response. That was, until he did.

"Oh." It was a simple, soft sound. A quiet and reserved reply that conveyed a sombre, hollow type of acceptance. He looked away from the nurse, his gaze moving to the wall on the opposite side of the room that he just.. stared at.

"...I can still feel it." He mumbled, leaning his head against Gerhards chest with a heaving breath.

"Phantom limb," Another nurse informed, her hair a rosy pink with blonde undertones. "Your subconscious can't understand that your leg isn't there anymore, so it tricks your brain into thinking it still is—makes it send signals to a limb when there isn't one to relay anything back. It's very common, dear." Her voice was a lot more.. personal then the other nurse's was. Empathetic on a deeper level then that of just a nurse doing her job.

Bennett just nodded, but Gerhard saw the way his hands were still trembling. The nurse must have noticed aswell, for she continued.

"In fact, so common I'm sure your father there has experienced it aswell." She guestured to Ernst, to his hand that lacked 3 fingers, marred with scars where said fingers once where. Ernst caught on quickly, nodding in agreement.

"Ay, kiddo. Took me months to get used to it." His words of comfort sounded hollow even to his own ears—because while yes, he had experience phantom limb when he lost his fingers, and sometimes still did, losing a few fingers didn't compare to losing a leg. It didn't compare at all.

But when Bennett turned his gaze to him, reached out a hand and grasped his scared one in his and held it, he knew his boy appreciated it.

There was a short while of silence, until the nurse that has first spoken up stepped forwards with an apologetic smile. "I know now might not be the best time," She began. "And I am sorry about that—but, it is about time Bennett's bandages be changed."

Bennett didn't pay attention much during the whole ordeal—he didn't protest when Gerhard took him off his lap and placed him back on the mattress, he didn't say anything when a nurse came forward to assess the bandages and prepare new ones.

He didn't look down during the whole thing, either. Infact, he made a point to look up, instead. The strain on his neck was uncomfortable, but he didn't give a shit, if he were honest. He didn't want to see it. So damnit, he wouldn't.

He was finally given water when his bandages were changed and his dads draped a blanket over his lap. Water he took without question and may or may not have almost choked on because of how fast he was trying to drink it. After sputtering and coughing for a good minute, and a light scolding from Ernst, he drank more—slower this time.

He heard Gerhard ask the nurses about food, and a reply saying something about soup because they didn't think he'd be able to stomach anything else, but he didn't care enough to listen to more then that. He choose to instead lean against Ernst as his dad ran his fingers through his hair.

Eventually, the nurses left, and it was just the three of them again.

"..My vision. I, uh.. lost it." He said after a few moments of silence, because he didn't know what else to say. He didn't want to talk about.. everything else, and it was the only thing he could think of besides that. Besides, now that he thought about it, he kind of did want to know if they also found his vision when they found him.

"Oh, right—Conard saw it and grabbed it when we all started to rush back to the city." Gerhard reached into his back pocket, pulling the vision out, its dully glow intensifying when placed it into Bennett awaiting hands. "I was holdin' onto it till you woke up."

"Thank you, dad." Bennett brushed a thumb over his vision's glowing jewel, the glass smooth and warm beneath his finger. It's heat pulsed once, twice, and the ache in his bones seemed to lessen.

He dropped the Celestia jewel onto his lap, watching it settle there before sighing. He was so tired. But he didn't want to let go of his dads and lay down.

He closed his eyes, leaning more of his weight onto Ernst, and in turn the retired adventure gently pulled him onto his lap and held his head against his chest. Bennett almost found it funny—he'd spent more time in his dads lap in the last two hours then he had in the last 8 years. He hoped the extra weight wasn't bothering their bad joints, and he almost made to leave his dads lap at the thought of causing him discomfort, but.. he found he didn't have it in him to move.

He'd apologise later if it caused his dad pain, but he just... really needed this, right now.

Bennett drifted in and out of sleep for a while, his dads both humming a lullaby they used to sing for him when he was much younger. If he focused really hard, he could almost pretend he was 6 years old again, in his dads arms in their beds after sneaking in due to a childish nightmare, lulled to sleep by their baritone voices...

He doesn't think he'd ever admit it out loud, but damnit, he missed that—he missed this. He and his dads hadn't had the chance to just.. be recently. Ironic that they only were right then because he was stuipd enough to get hurt again.

He mentally shook his head—no. He couldn't think like that. It wasn't his fault he got hurt, he couldn't have known their would be a landslide and that he'd get- for days- that he'd get hurt.

...it didn't make it seem any less like his fault.

After a while, Bennett noticed his dads humming had stopped. Confused, he cracked open his eyes and saw that their heads were turned to the door.

There was something going on outside it—there was the sound of rushing feet, barely subdued shouts, and then almost too quick to process, the door flew open with a BANG.

"Someone get that boy!" A nurse yelled, somewhere outside the room.

Bennett hardly heard the shout, because just in the doorframe there was a mess of silver-white hair, worn fabric and the smell of the forest and wolfhooks-

Ruby met Emerald and then Razor was rushing forward.

Chapter Text

Razor knows what death is.

Has seen it many times in his life. Lived with it, near it, he was surrounded by it everyday.

He knew what it looked like.

When he was a pup—a child, a word his brain refuses to learn—he saw it, witnessed it. Saw the bodies of captured prey being dragged to the dens, still bleeding, eaten by the pack. He had been young, too young, to eat like they did—was still suckling milk with the other yearlings, teeth growing but not sharp yet.

Still, he had looked with wide eyes as jaws snapped to flesh—watched and saw.

He knew what it tasted like.

Had used finally-sharp teeth to bite into prey, dig into flesh and wait until it stopped kicking. Felt the blood on his tongue, throat, in his stomach with good meat.

He hunted and stalked with his pack, his lupical, until all were fed and bones were made into toys for the young—and himself. Marrow was a nice threat, bones fun to tug between and snap in jaws.

He knew what it smelt liked.

Had smelt bad, dead meat after days out in the open, grey and bug eaten—it rolled Razors stomach in a way so different to when he was hungry, like it wanted to push up and out, instead of taking down and in. It burnt his nose.

Rotten, Teacher Lisa had taught him when he asked.

He had smelt it on himself, before. But not the same, slightly different. On his hindleg, after a day spent caught in a human hunters trap, ment for boar. Metal teeth caught his ankle, tore flesh, made him bleed and hurt. Made it stink like it was rotten, even after Leader saved him, aching and so warm it was burning, burning that spread to the rest of his body and stayed for days.

Dead, but not yet. Dying. Bitter, sticky wolfhooks helped, cleaned out the rot, left a scar where the death was. Healed.

He knew what it felt like.

Had felt the matted pelt of an elder, one who was much older then Razor, larger and stronger, but now weaker too. He had felt the shivers, the tremors, the huff, huff, huff breaths when he cuddled up close to the not-warm-cold body.

He had felt the empty after the Elder did not wake, and Leader whisked the body away before it could stink.

By then, Razor had felt death before, felt bodies still in his teeth, but had never felt... heavy, afterwards. Whimpering and whining, seeking Leader out and huddling into his warm-cool fur, eyes leaking, crying. Sorrow, Teacher had said it was, mourning.

Razor didn't understand Human death, the importance of it, but he knew death. Had lived with it, around it, caused it, mourned it.

That is why, when he smelt the sour, not-yet-rot under stone and dirt, mixed with fire-crackle and windy red flowers; when he saw the grey, raw, bug bitten flesh and bone on a leg; when he felt that shivering cold with a brief touch before he was pulled away; when he heard those huff, huff, huff breaths; when his chest felt that scary empty sorrow—

Razor knew.

And it hurt, hurt much more then it did with the Elder. Because it was all coming from Benny—Bunny like, fire-warm, warm smoke and big, big laughs—Razor's chest fluttering, best friend, Lupical, human Benny.

And Razor knew death, knew it very well. But he did not understand human death, did not know human death. Benny death.

And he did not want to find out.

He wasn't allowed to see Benny.

Even after following the people, clinging to raven-girl—familiar in the unfamiliar— entering the too-big, too-loud, too-many-smells and human city, he could not see Benny.

He tried. Tried running past, to follow the people carrying his Lupical away, but humans larger then him came and kept him away—holding those long metal claws and blocking the door.

One held him back, too. Arms wrapped around him, cold, cold, restricting, too-tight. Pulled him away and towards Teacher—he hadn't seen her there.

The human that held him went after that, somewhere Razor didn't care to see, and then she was wrapping her arms around him.

Teacher's hugs weren't like his Lupicals. She didn't have the fluffy, dense fur that Razor could nuzzle into that they did. She was taller then most of them—not Leader—but slimmer, not as wide, his arms could wrap around her and touch. She didn't smell the same, more like sweet roses and book-paper then wolfhooks and earth. She would hum and talk in the human way that Razors ears still weren't really used to, not the familiar howls, yips, growls, huff and croons, and her skin sizzled like the power of of his vision—like his own but not as wild.

But he liked her hugs. They were different, but they were Teacher-different. Razor found that that was a good different. Like how Raven-girl was, and Benny, fire-girl too, when she wasn't burning the ground and scaring prey away.

"Benny... hurt." Razor mumbled with forced effort, too tired and stressed to want to talk the people way but Teacher couldn't understand the wolf way, so he tried.

She hummed, running pointed‐not-claw-fingers through his fur, leaning down to press her lips to his forehead. A kiss, she told him it was many lessons ago, they can help make someone feel better. "I know."

"Razor can't see Benny. Not alou- allowed." He dug his claws into the back of her dress, pressing his face into her torso. Teacher didn't take her hand from his fur, kept scratching at his scalp.

It felt nice.

It felt itchy.

"I know, wolf cub, I know."

"Why?" Razor knew people-kind didn't like him much. Human hunters shouted at him, got mad, even though they hunted prey that was not theirs. City people thought he was odd, he heard them talk—called him weird. Dirty. Other words he didn't know yet.

He didn't like them, either. People were too loud, human hunters greedy, hid metal teeth in bush and by rocks that hurt, hard to understand and Razor didn't like to be around them.

But Benny was his friend—more then friend. He was Lupical. He liked Benny. Like he liked Raven-girl and Teacher Lisa, but a bit different. Good different. So why couldn't he see him?

"Bennett's really hurt, Cub," She was speaking softly, like she was sad—her scent smelt sad. "And the nurses need to look after him."

Razor knew that. He smelt the soon-to-be-rot on Benny, heard his not-there-breaths and warm-cold skin. He also knew humans had special ones that helped hurt humans. That didn't explain why he couldn't see him, though.

His silence must have given his confusion away, because Teacher continued. "Healing Bennett it going to take the nurses a long time, and a lot of energy, and the more people in the room, the harder it will be for them," She paused, took a deep breath, continued. "And the longer it takes them to help him, the more chance there is of.. Bennett not being ok."

...

Oh.

Razor didn't want that. He wanted Benny to be ok.

"But," Teacher started again, moving a hand under his chin and tilting his head up to look at her—she was smiling now, without teeth (She knew he didn't like that. Showing teeth like that was a threat). A few months ago he'd have bitten her for doing that—had before, the scar was on her finger. Now, he leaned into the touch, nuzzled like with Leader but not quite. She was always gentle, not like other humans. "Because of how quickly you helped everyone find him, I'm sure he'll be just fine."

Razor trusted Teacher. She didn't lie, like most humans did. She gave him lessons, taught him to talk like a person—didn't yell when he messed up—but didn't force him to be human. She didn't yell at him at all. Was always gentle. Didn't give him looks and call him odd.

He trusted her. But he didn't believe her, not then.

Razor left the city after the sun set. He wanted to stay longer, didn't want to leave before he knew Benny was ok, even after what Lisa told him.

But he wasn't allowed to, just like he wasn't allowed to see Benny. The humans wearing white—Nurses, Razor, those are the Nurses, Teacher told him—wanted him to leave. Had wanted him to since he got there. He would have if Benny wasn't there.

He wouldn't have left if they hadn't pushed without really pushing, and made Teacher drag him away. He wouldn't have if it wasn't late, and Leader wouldn't be upset if he didn't return soon. The elder wolf didn't like it when he didn't return to the den when the sky was dark.

Teacher walked with him to the gates—he did not know the city like he did the forest, did not trust it the same, it's wrong-warm light that tried to be the sun at night, humans always around, still so many smells, all human, all not familiar. She knew this, let him cling to her and hide in her dress to block out all the scents with hers.

"Tell that old wolf I said hi, ok?" Teacher said when they got to the gates, a goodbye. She couldn't come with him to Wolvendom, she had to stay with her mate, the wind-leader-human. Leader wouldn't let her stay either—he didn't mind her, didn't stop Razor from seeing her, but she was not Leaders Lupical like she was Razors, and only tolerated her so much.

He only nodded, a small huff, too tired to speak the human way, and Teacher Lisa smiled in the nice way most others didn't. She reached for him, pulling him into one last hug. "Goodnight, Razor."

He merely rubbed his cheek against her chest in response, a tired goodbye, before they let go of each other—he didn't want to go, but he needed to, so with one last human guesture, a wave, he began walking home.

Wolvendom was quiet.

It wasn't silent, though. There was sound. Wind through the trees, prey-things moving around, hiding behind rocks, in grass, water flowing in close by rivers.

Wolvendom sounds weren't noise. Not like the city. They were natural, not human. Calm, familiar. Razor liked them. Knew them. Lived with them.

The sounds he knew the most were the ones from his Lupical—ones he could hear from very far away and would never miss.

Like the calling howls he quickly answered the second he heard them, switching from a slow walk to a sprint, having long since gone to all-fours then people-kinds hard to walk two, jumping over rocks and dead trees to get to the dens faster.

When he did, he was knocked over by the pups greeting him, nipping at his cheeks, fur, licking his maw in greeting and huffing happily when he did the same.

Up late, he chided, Sky dark. Pups should sleep when sky dark.

The younglings whined, pattering their paws against the crowd as they continued to clamour over him. They didn't answer, ignoring.

He went to scold again, but there was a chill breeze and the smell of ice-fur and Razor looked up, only to look back to the ground when he saw Leader. The pups did the same, though with less remorse.

Yes, Leader leaned down, his snout hovering just above Razors head, cold breath hitting his fur, Pups do sleep when sky is dark.

Leader nipped at his cheek, his own silent scolding. Pup is back late. Very late. Too late.

He was upset. Razor could tell. Could feel it in the chilled, chilled air, the sour scent. He was right, too.

Why? Razor glanced up, his body low to the ground, snout tightly shut, least threatening, least challenging.

...hurt. He began. Lupical hurt—fire-flower hurt.

Leader was quiet, and Razor looked back at the ground.

Come. Into den. The elder wolf turned on his paws and became walking, Razor following after as told—the other pups at his side. Young as they were, they knew better then to not listen. Razor did.

The walk was short, all of them ducking under the root and rocks and dirt-hole that marked the entrance, filing in the den with some noise.

Some of the adult wolves were still awake, waiting. They rose when they entered, trotting over to usher the littles to bed—they greeted Razor, nuzzled their snouts against his and nipped his ears, happy he's back, but the hellos and goodnights were short.

Leader made his way to the back of the den—there, he had the best view of the enterance, could see all the pack, could react quick if need be—already laying his body down to rest. Razor stopped short some steps away, unsure, looking down.

Most nights, he slept with Leader. Some nights, with the younger adults, apart of the pup-pile but also supervising.

This was not most nights, and Razor was in trouble. Leader was still mad, scent still sour. Razor was back too late, he had a reason, but that did not change fact. He did not know where he would sleep.

He may sleep alone.

He looked around, holding back a whine, his own bubbling—over bubbling—upset. He did not like sleeping alone, not in the den.

Leader saw him looking, huffed once, his tail thump, thump, thumping against the ground, and called; Come, pup.

He was still upset, had reason to be upset, just like Razor had reason to he late, but he was not cruel.

Razor wasted no time in doing as he was told, latching onto the fur at Leaders chest and nuzzling, rubbing his shoulder and flank against the elder wolf. His scent was no longer sour.

Pup smells like people-city. Leader huffed, miffed.

Sorry. Razor didn't like it either.

Pup smells like people. He seemed more miffed at this, offended, curling around him more, caging him in. But Razor did not feel caged. He felt safe. It felt nice, especially after the many big-feelings.

Sorry. He was getting himself comfortable now, half burying himself in Leaders fur. He was tired, didn't realise how tired until then.

(Adrenaline-crash, he thinks Teacher explained once. Razor didn't know what a-dren-a-lin was, though.)

This... human Lupical. How hurt? Leader gently questioned, after a few moments of soft silence.

...Bad. Rot kind of hurt. Razor answered, whined, and he felt more then heard Leaders understanding huff.

Tomorrow, the elder began, nuzzling his snout into Razors fur, When sun rises, Pup can go see human lupical again. Say goodbye, if need be.

Razor looked up at Leader, eyes wide. But, the slightest hint of fangs behind lips had Razor looking down again, Must return before dark. Pup will not miss a meal again.

Clear?

Razor heard the threat—if he was late again, he would not be allowed to leave the den for some days. Had happened before, but not since he lost his young teeth. He chuffed his understanding, and Leader said nothing more.

The large wolf lowered his head until it rested against the ground, a Razor followed by leaning his weight on the elders neck and chest, curling up.

He was still upset, still sad, still had the aching empty in his chest, but as he fell asleep listening to Leaders soothing rumbles, he felt comforted.

Razor woke up earlier then the rest of his pack the next day.

He didn't normally. Normally, he woke up after the adults, at least, closer to when the pups were waking and demanding food for their empty stomachs.

Razors stomach was empty—he hadn't eaten for over a day—but that was not why he was awake so early.

He needed to see Benny. He would see Benny. And Leader said he had today to do that, so he would.

He was careful not to wake anyone up as he crupt up and out of the den, shaking out dust and dirt that settled in his fur during his sleep. It made him more awake, and his head didn't itch as much.

Teacher would say its time for a bath.

Razor hated baths. And he had no time. He had to get to the city—he hated that to, but it was where Benny was.

He made his way through Wolvendom—slowly, slowly, so prey did not get scared and hid, he did not want his packs hunt that day to fail—through bushes, over rocks, under trees until he was almost at the end of Leader's territory.

He was about to step out, to bolt, when he saw purple and green in the corner of his eye and stopped. He turned, looked, stared.

Wolfhooks. A small pile, one broken and squashed, sour-bitter scent in the air and making Razors throat dry.

He saw the spikey-purple often, all around the forest. Stepped on them and bled red sometimes, too. Knew they could be eaten. Had eaten before, helped settle pups stomachs. He didn't like the taste, but...

Razor remembers burning aches, body hot, hot, chest hurting with each breath and hindleg twitching with pain. Remembers worried whines and panicked yowls, remembers smelling rot-but-not-yet on himself.

He remembers crushed purple-spikes on his ankle, the pale-yellow juices from inside stinging, hurting, but the rot smell was replaced by a bitter smell and the burning stopped soon after, and his ache did too. Remembers scar replacing wound, looks down and sees the proof.

Razor knew wolfhooks could be eaten.

He also knew they could heal.

And Benny needed healing.

He crouched down infront of the small pile, picking them up and inspecting them. Left the bug-eaten ones, took the best looking ones. He stood, two legs instead of four, because his hands were full, and began walking towards the city.

As he walked, he held the spiked-purple's to his maw and removed the spikes—biting at the points and ripping them off, spiting them out after. Juice hit his tongue, sour and sharp, itchy, and iron did too—red leaked from nicks on his lips. The spikes were sharp.

He didn't stop. Benny didn't know wolfhooks like Razor, didn't know how to remove spikes—maybe didn't know to remove spikes. Razor didn't know if other people-kind, the helping ones, did either. So he did it for them. For Benny.

The wolfhooks were leaking pale-yellow, making his hands sticky, and red dried in the cracks of his lips, but soon he was finished and he could see the city. He changed a walk to a run.

He needed to see Benny.

He needed to help.

Normally, Razor paused at the city gates. Stopped and stared at the tall stone walls and pressed his lips thin to stop from baring his teeth. Tensed in the same way he did near the hunting town, too-close to home, humans that ruin hunts and steal prey.

He didn't pause this time.

He sprinted—a hard thing to do on two legs, he didn't like it, his ankle twitched—past the gates, passed the metal-furred humans with the pointy poles, through a crowd of people that scattered when they saw him coming.

He ignored them. Dodged when hands reached, bared his teeth, arms clutching the wolfhooks protectively, and kept running.

He got lost, a few times. The city was confusing. Too big but too small with too many noises and scents and people-kind.

He got lost, but he didn't stop. Turned on his heels and bolted in the other direction, running and running until he could see it—the place he was in the day before, the healing place where Benny was.

Someone was walking out as he came close, and he sped up to get inside before the door closed—he had trouble opening them, Just grasp the handle and twist your wrist, Razor, like this—ignoring the shocked shout of the human he knocked into as he did.

When he was inside, he looked around, seeing a few people, but none he knew, none that were Benny. He knew he was taken somewhere to get help by those healing humans, the ones in white, but he didn't know where.

He saw one of those special humans—a Nurse, he remembers, but doesn't care—and quickly ran over. They recoiled when they saw him.

"Where Benny?" He asked, demanded—the human shook their head.

"Oh Lord Barbatos—you're that feral boy," They bared their teeth, a hand held at their chest, and they flinched at his answering snarl. "You cannot be here. This is a sanitary, controlled environment-"

He cut them off. "Where Benny?" He repeated, more forceful, nodding down to the wolfhooks in his hands. "Brought help—can help. Where Benny?"

"You need to leave. Go, shoo! Out!" They waved at him widely, and Razor huffed in annoyance. He wasn't leaving. He just got there. The night before, he left because he didn't know he could help. He knew now.

He turned away from the human in white, ducking under their shoving hands and bolting towards the nearest hallway.

"Hey, no! You can't- Stop! Get back here this instant!"

He ran, almost slipping on the too-smooth floors—bad ground, bad ground—sniffing at the air for the smallest wiff of something familiar.

He nose stung, the air smelt wrong in this building. No earth. Just people and too-clean, like Teachers horrible soaps.

He kept sniffing anyways, because he had to. He knew Benny was here somewhere, he just need to-

THERE.

Razor suddenly turned down the next corner, sprinting past several humans and several doors for the one at the end of the new hallway, where the fire crackle-red windy flowers was coming from.

"Someone get him!"

The door was closed, and Razor knew no one would open it for him. He quickly switched all the wolfhooks from two hands to one, using the free one to reached out for the handle to grasp it and twist his wrist, There you go! I told you you'd get it, didn't I wolf cub, and Razor held a flinch back at the sharp SLAM! that echoed as he threw it opened.

For a split second, Razor froze, his chest sputtering and heaving as he stared wide-eyed at Benny, and Benny stared wide-eyed back.

The split second came and went, and Razor was throwing himself as his Lupical.

He wrapped his free arm around Benny, ignoring the two humans supporting his Lupicals weight in their laps, digging his still sticky fingers into his back, trying to be careful of his claws and the not-spiked-purple's in his other hand. He rubbed his cheek against Benny's frantically, not holding back happy whines because he was happy.

"Razor?" He heard Benny say, his own arms coming up to circle around his back and holding on just as tight. All it did was make Razor bury his snout in his neck and nuzzle there, breathing in his familiar scent, searching for that gross, sickingly rot-not-rot, finding it weakly clinging to his skin and now his happy whine turned sad.

"What- Razor?" Benny said again and held tighter, not returning the nuzzle but leaning into it—Razor didn't mind, he was sick, sick, sick, he didn't need to return it with his own Benny unique nuzzle, not right now. Maybe soon, maybe, because Razor could help.

He promised. Leader said he could visit today, see Benny, maybe say goodbye. But Razor didn't want to say goodbye.

He didn't know human death, didn't really understand it.

And he didn't want to.

So, with the wolfhooks, the sour-bitter juice that took the rot away from him when he was younger, he would help Bennt, and then he would never have to understand it.