Chapter 1: Peace
Chapter Text
Void caressed the machine’s rusted metal. Cold. Familiar. Ginger hair floated in an invisible breeze, brushing against gently-shut eyes. Breaths came soft, thoughts drifting—waiting. A great many things were said about the land beyond death; a paradise lying beyond azure skies. A land where all striving ceased, where all of one’s problems disappeared. If one was a good enough person, they’d find themselves there—yet no one had ever said it would be blank. No one had ever said it’d be this…
…Peaceful.
Mismatched eyes fluttered open, staring towards the silence above. Inky darkness flooded his vision; he floated, directionless, a sorrowful smile crossing his features. This was it… wasn’t it. He wasn’t good enough to go to paradise; he wasn’t bad enough to suffer eternally. Perhaps it was his missing heart; perhaps, if that was true, this was purgatory, or the end of existence. It made sense; he was hardly a person anymore, and it seemed that followed him into death. His finger twitched, metal clinking against metal as he shuddered. He stilled once more, continuing to watch the silent gloom. His thoughts stilled; his expression softened, tears rolling down his cheeks. It had been a long, long time since last he’d felt this kind of peace.
Time dragged ever onwards, yet it was impossible to fathom just how long he’d truly been waiting. Was it hours? Days? Weeks? Perhaps, even, it was years—yet no sun shone on the horizon; not a single thing changed. Even seconds could have dragged on for centuries, left alone in the wake of one’s sins. Perhaps he deserved this; perhaps he could finally rest. Perhaps he was meant to sleep forever, like the dragon in those old magypsy tales. That…
…That sounded nice.
Yet as disparate eyes drifted shut, a spark shone in the darkness. Imperial red locked on to the disturbance, cornflower blue following at a far more leisurely pace. Something was glowing, out in the void—and as the boy stared, it only spread. Warmth brushed past him, caressing his skin; sun shone upon his features, illuminating sparkling tears and exhausted features. The gloom receded, silence falling as the ocean ebbed and flowed. Like a mother’s embrace, light surrounded a long-lost child.
His eyes drifted shut. A voice whispered in his ear.
“It’s time to go home, Claus.”
Chapter 2: Restored
Summary:
The sun will always rise again. That's a fact of life--one that perhaps, once upon a time, Claus would have taken great comfort in.
...So why does it hurt so much when it finally happens?
Chapter Text
Light.
How long had it been, since last he’d seen the sun? The machine pried his eyes open, squinting. It hurt to keep them open, to strain them in an effort to understand what was going on. Lips curled into a scowl, a tear rolling down his cheek as he let his eyes fall shut. He forced himself to sit up, registering something new as he did. He traced his finger along something beneath him, soft and smooth. Rough lines marked out squares in the material; his brows furrowed as he tried to piece together what, exactly, this was.
Fabric? A quilt, maybe?
He forced his eyes open again, turning his head. Something soft rested against his cheek, now; something he hadn’t registered, as his senses continued to sharpen. He balled his hand into a fist, grasping at the material between his fingers. He took a deep breath, pausing at a scent in the air. The ocean breeze brushed by, yet another scent persisted. His stomach churned, his head pounded as the rest of everything slammed against his head. He forced himself to sit up, forced his heart to still as he peered at the world around him. He trembled, forcing a breath, then another.
What was going on?
He swallowed a lump in his throat, vision assaulting his senses as he struggled to make sense of where he was. His hand trembled; he set it against the bed. It landed on something; he traced around it, furrowing his brow. Soft, plush… square. He looked down at it and saw blue. His heart pounded, his breaths came short-
He pulled the pillow against his chest, pressing his face against it as he forced himself to breathe. His thoughts raced, his head spun, his stomach churned as tears rolled down his cheek. Where was he? What was going-
“I’ll go check on him.”
A voice echoed from downstairs, familiar. Too familiar. His chest seized, his eyes widening, his heart stopping-
Heart. Pounding. Hurting. Why, why, why, why, wh-
Footsteps.
He forced himself to move, tumbling out of bed with a thunk. He scrambled to his feet, lungs burning, head spinning, heart- heart. He didn’t have a heart, gone, it was gone, it was long gone long gone long gone-
The door creaked.
“Claus? Is everything okay in there..?”
Claus? That almost sounds like a person’s name.
He staggered back, metal tearing through flesh. The world flashed before him—darkness, cavern, needle, death-
“Claus, what’s-”
Hands, soft and calloused, wiped at the corners of his eye. He froze, eyes wide— he couldn’t breathe —as he trembled, as he stood there, as iron flooded his senses and-
-he dropped to his knees as someone pulled him down, collapsed in familiar arms as something awful rose in his chest. He sobbed, struggled, clung to the pillow like a lifeline, eyes squeezed shut as bile rose in his throat. Colors flashed on the back of his eyelids, bright neons against cruel metallics, flesh twisting, needle-
FIND THE NEEDLES, WAKE THE DRAGON FOR YOUR MASTER, YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A HEARTLESS MA-
“ LET GO OF ME-! ”
His voice shattered as he shouted, comforting warmth dissipating as he scrambled away, as his lungs burned, as the floodgates burst and his head spun. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t-
“Hey… hey. It’s okay, Claus. It’s just me.”
The voice cut through again, gentle. Why was it gentle? Something hot, something salty burned his cheek. He couldn’t swallow with the lump in his throat, couldn’t speak despite his lips desperately moving, couldn’t process anything as color swirled and voices echoed and-
He staggered to his feet and did the one thing he could think to do.
He ran.
Out the door, down the stairs, past someone who asked something he couldn’t hear past the pounding in his ears. He tore his eyes open, stumbling down the path as if on autopilot. Where- need-
“Claus?”
Another familiar voice, yet this one didn’t hurt. Why was… town? His head spun, his-
He collapsed, vision blurring. Footsteps pounded against dirt—red and white shoes.
“F…uel..?”
Fuel. That. That was a name. That was his best friend’s name. He forced it from between his lips, visions threatening to consume him once more. A knee hit the ground in front of him, black- cargo pants. This. This was-
“…We’ve gotta get you inside. Mr. Fli-“
“ No, ” he croaked, forcing his gaze to raise, looking into worried brown eyes, “ Please… ”
Something flickered in those eyes—familiar, grounding. He could see a little more clearly, yet he still couldn’t breathe. He still couldn’t-
“You wanna come to my house, then..?”
He nodded, unable to force another word from his lumpy throat. A soft smile spread across Fuel’s face, yet it didn’t reach his eyes.
“Right… yeah. Okay. Are you okay if I touch you, or… right. Okay.”
He must have flinched at the prospect of touch, because Fuel nodded, rising to his feet. The machine forced himself to follow, barely processing anything beyond a haze until they reached a little log cabin in the woods. Fuel opened the door; the machine walked through, stumbling towards the stairs as if on autopilot. He climbed, steps steadying with the familiarity of a place that wasn’t linked to-
“Dad, Claus is sleeping over! If his family asks, he doesn’t want to see them!”
A smile, however strained, flickered across his features for a moment. He stumbled towards the bed, pillow still clutched desperately in his arms. He collapsed, forcing himself to breathe. Forci-
...The darkness swallowed him whole.