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glacecakes · 3 years

Text

Underneath and Unheard

It's earth angst time babyyyyyyy

I was in a bit of a rut the past few weeks. Some messed up stuff happened and what was my coping mechanism is now a part of my trauma which is f u n but the only way out is through so I'm gonna plow through some fics and focus on what makes me happy instead of what is expected of me, regardless of the people who wanted to hurt me. And that includes this.

This was partially written on the Varian Hivemind server. If you wanna join just ask me here, we love to write mini varian fics and debate the show and just be all around silly! All are welcome.

With how mundane their routine had become, it was only fitting they were due for change.

Everyday had become the same: Quirin would wake up with the sun, go (attempt to) wake Varian up, make breakfast, wake Varian for real, and leave to tend the fields. Varian, after shaking sleep out of his eyes, would scarf down the now-cold breakfast and hunker down in his lab till they reunited for lunch and again at dinner. Repeat ad nauseum. The last big change to this years-old routine had been the addition of Ruddiger, but all that meant was another plate at the table.

That was how the day started, same as any other. Breakfast had been slightly soggy pancakes coupled with an apple that Ruddiger stole, before the two retreated to the relative quiet of the basement lab.

Quiet, peaceful… lonely.

“Alright buddy!” Varian chimed, lifting a beaker into the light so he could see its contents better. “So the last few batches have been a dud. No biggie! We just gotta get the recipe for Flynnolium down and we’ll be all set to start building the actual tankers.” Dad wouldn’t let him start any large scale projects without a comprehensive plan. Otherwise he could… How did dad put it? “Blow up the town”? Pfft! Yea right! His plans were foolproof! ...Most of the time.

Ruddiger stretched, having dozed off, and then shook out his body. He jumped down from his perch to trail Varian’s legs, letting out a happy chirp and getting a buck-toothed grin in return.

“You ready to help?” At the responding chitter, the alchemist slid his goggles on. “Great! Let’s get started.”

The creature hopped up onto the table, passing Varian a few chemicals as the boy asked. They worked in tandem like a well-oiled machine, so used to the routine that it took no effort at all to keep the momentum going. The chemical in the beaker began to glow a neon green, bubbling and hissing slightly as some salt was added.

“And now…” Varian hummed, setting the mixture on his hot plate. “Simmer for 10 minutes…” He stuck his tongue out in concentration. 430 degrees, no more, no less. Too cold and the mixture would solidify before the reaction was complete, too hot and… well… let’s just say too hot was a very bad idea.

Ruddiger trilled, hopping down and popping out of the lab’s window to get some fresh air. The boy paid him no heed, it was common for him to sneak out, steal some fruit, and come back ready to help again. Quite a glutton he was, Varian thought to himself with a snicker. Oh well, as long as he was back in 10 minutes it wouldn’t be a big deal.

Ruddiger’s ringed tail swung with each step, happily wandering down the familiar trail and into the fields towards Quirin. The knight was wary of him at first, and to an extent, still was. It’s not every day a wild creature decides to adopt your son, after all. But Ruddiger was more like a cat than an actual raccoon, content to laze in sunbeams and steal snacks and sit in laps. So despite Quirin’s reservations, he didn’t really have any argument of substance against keeping the critter, so long as he was clean and without signs of illness.

No greater love than a dad and the pet he didn’t want, as they say.

Sweat dripped from Quirin’s brow, salting the earth he worked on. His muscles strained and fingers blistered around his tools, yet still he didn’t mind. It was no different than his previous life, used to abusing his muscles to their fullest extent. He wiped the excess sweat and turned at the familiar noise at his feet.

Ruddiger stared expectantly. He would climb up onto the man’s shoulders, but he knew from experience that doing it while he was working ended in Quirin physically dragging him back to Varian. Instead, he weaved between large legs, chirruping all the way.

“Hello Ruddiger,” Quirin greeted, smirking and standing to his full height, his back screaming in protest. He really ought to steal Varian for a few days, he’d help the chores get done a lot faster… but Varian hated farm work, and the dad would much rather have a few extra aches than deal with a moody teenager whining all day long.

“I take it you want a treat?” Ruddiger sat in place, eyes wide and almost puppy-like in his begging stance. Quirin laughed, grabbing some produce from his nearby cart.

“Fresh off the trees,” the man said, handing Ruddiger a fresh apple, bright colors shining. The raccoon screeched in thanks, purring as his teeth sunk into juicy apple flesh.

Quirin placed his hands on his hips, watching the creature with a fond smile. “Why don’t you bring one back for Varian, hm?” He offered, grabbing another apple and passing it off. “He could use a snack before lunch.”

They did this every day, and every day without fail, Varian would refuse the apple, and Ruddiger would eat it instead. But still, the creature finished his current treat, taking Quirin’s gift and bounding off back towards their home.

Quirin shook his head as he left, smiling to himself. Why couldn’t Varian have adopted a dog like every other kid his age? But his son was always a strange one, so perhaps it was only fitting that his companion be the same.

Ruddiger bounded back down the familiar beaten path. In no time, he was climbing back through the window, Varian’s snack in hand. Said boy hadn’t moved, staring at the beaker with an intense stare. If he looked away for even a second, a number of terrible things could happen! Knowing his luck, at least something was bound to blow up today, and he refused to let it be this.

Hey! Why wasn’t Varian looking at him! He was back! Hello! Human! Ruddiger let out an annoyed chirp and Varian started.

“Oh! Hey buddy!” The raccoon’s tail swished in irritation, but he couldn’t stay mad at Varian for long. His friend was just so dedicated to his craft, after all! Little raccoon hands skittered across metal, down the pipe running out the window and towards Varian.

“The solution is almost done, just in time,” Varian smiled, scritching Ruddiger in his favorite place behind the ears, earning a happy chirp. “Oh hey, thanks!” He snatched the apple. “I was actually kinda hungry. Didn’t eat enough breakfast I guess.” Buck teeth stabbed in with a crunch, allowing juice to drip down his leather gloves.

What? No! That’s not how it went! Ruddiger would push the apple into Varian’s face, but he’d insist Ruddiger could have it, and the chubby critter would get a second brunch! This was not fair!

He let out a shrill complaint, claws scratching into the table.

“Hey, you already had one! I know dad sneaks you a million.” Varian stuck out his tongue. “In fact,” he took another bite, pointing at his raccoon. “You could stand to lose a few pounds.”

Oh, he didn’t just go there! Ruddiger wiggled his butt, glare focused solely on Varian.

The boy took notice, face falling into a glare of his own. “Hey, what are you doing. Ruddiger. Ruddiger don’t you dare.”

He was gonna do it.

“Ruddiger!”

He was gonna do it!

“Ruddiger, no!”

He leaped.

Varian shrieked, flailing as he fell, face now full of angry raccoon. As he fell, he tried to grab onto something, anything, to slow his fall. Alas, all he reached was the hot plate, fingers slipping around the dial and turning it to maximum heat.

Neither noticed, too embroiled in their tug of war over half an apple.

“Ruddiger!” Varian scolded. His gloves were great for alchemy, but not so much for keeping a grip on a shiny apple. Not like Ruddiger’s tiny claws, which easily punctured the fruit and snatched it.

“Not fair!” Varian huffed, giving up and glaring at his friend, who was clearly quite pleased with himself. “That was meant for me, you know!” He took on a mischievous grin. ��What if I took your apple after dinner, then? That’s only fair!”

Ruddiger puffed up, chattering angrily at how no, very much not fair, before he saw it.

The vial was bubbling violently, shaking on the hot plate, making an awful racket as it did so. His chattering picked up speed, more panicked, but Varian simply crossed his arms, smirking down. “Oh, I will, and I will enjoy your apple just as much as you enjoyed mine.” Ruddiger shook his head, chattering more insistently, but Varian simply rolled his eyes.

The beaker’s clattering only grew louder as it rattled faster and faster, and finally Varian noticed, turning around in confusion before his eyes grew as wide as dinner plates.

The beaker cracked.

“CRAP!” He yelled, scrambling upright, turning off the hot plate, but it was too late. The beaker shrieked, color shifting to a neon cyan, which made Ruddiger screech in panic, scrambling up the windowsill just in time for-

BOOM

It took a good minute for the dust to settle. Debris and house foundation screamed as it rained, till only pebbles clattered in the wreckage.

From his vantage point on the window, Ruddiger cried out once, twice, to no response. He trilled louder. Maybe Varian’s ears were still ringing, just like his?

When he could finally see again, it was a disaster. Glass confetti littered the ground, beakers full of other chemicals bubbling and leaking onto the floor. The hot plate lay atop the wreckage, shattered beyond belief. Massive stones that held up their house had caved in, forming a miniature mountain decorated with support beams. A piece of wood splintered and the entire chamber shook.

Ruddiger whimpered, curling his tail around him. Where was Varian? The entire place seemed desolate, devoid of life.

Carefully, so as not to hurt his paws, he scampered down the (now bent) pipe and into the mound. The raccoon spun around in a circle, checking all directions for his beloved friend. But it seemed there was nothing, an eerie silence settling in along with the dust.

No! He wouldn’t give up! He needed to find Varian! Varian hadn’t escaped, Varian needs him!

With a grim determination, Ruddiger stuck his claws into the collapsed rocks, pushing away what little he could in an attempt to dig. It was at this time his size came in handy; he couldn’t push any rocks big enough to destabilize the pile.

He huffed, and could already imagine what Varian would say in this situation. The longer I am without oxygen, stuck under the rocks, the less likely I am to survive. A horrifying thought that made Ruddiger dig faster.

Finally, finally, when he’d reached the point where the only rocks left to move were too big, he found him. His face barely peaked out of the mound, crushed by the debris. Ruddiger squealed, trying to push a larger boulder, and the whole mess shook violently. He dropped the rock as if he was burned.

“Ruddiger...?” Varian moaned, eyes fluttering open. His pupils were mismatched. The alchemist coughed, and tried to move.

Big mistake.

As he shifted, the rocks screamed in protest, tumbling around him. As they fell, the splintered wooden foundation they’d held up fell too. Ruddiger chattered in warning, but-

The beam slid right into Varian’s abdomen. He let out a choked scream, eyes flying open as blood splattered onto the raccoon’s face. Both animal and human cries echoed in the ruins, Varian trembling in pure agony.

Ruddiger screamed, sang, anything to keep Varian awake and coherent. But the pain was a hazy drug, diluting his thoughts and pulling the boy down, down down.

It couldn’t possibly get any worse.

The chamber shook again. Harder. A boulder nearly crushed Ruddiger but he escaped at the last second.

“Ru....” Varian moaned, eyes dull and cloudy, not at all like the normal sunshine blue. “Dad...” was all he could say before a torrent of blood spilled from his lips, pooling onto the floor and obscuring Varian’s vision. If the boy couldn’t get any paler, his eyes honed in on the red, and he slumped.

What was Ruddiger to do? He couldn’t leave Varian, Varian needed him! No... Varian needed dad. Needed help. But if he left... what would happen...? There was no other option. With a whine, his tail between his legs, Ruddiger scampered back towards the fields.

He scampered back to where Quirin was working, finding the man none the wiser. Had he not heard the explosion? Not seen the dust and ruined house? A quick glance back and anyone could see something was wrong! The place was half caved in!

He screeched at the top of his little raccoon lungs, which startled Quirin. His basket of fruit jostled about, dropping a few pieces.

“Good lord,” Quirin huffed, turning around. “Yes, Ruddiger? What is it?”

He chattered rapidly, trying to mimic Varian using the beaker, then their fight, and finally making an explosion with his hands.

Quirin hummed. “Alright. Here you go.” And he dropped an apple for him.

What? No! That wasn’t it! Well, sort of. It all started due to an apple, so at least now he knew to just go get another next time. But that required getting up, and after his brunch the sun always shined right thru the window, and it was perfect for sunbathing...

No! Focus! Ruddiger slapped his face a few times before resuming his noises.

Quirin raised an unimpressed brow. “Shouldn’t you be with Varian?” He asked. “I don’t have time for this today.”

Ruddiger hissed at that. Even if it wasn’t an emergency, how rude! His claws scratched at the earth in frustration. He leaped at Quirin and dug his claws into his fur vest, and he yelled out in shock. For a brief moment the giant stumbled, nearly tripping over the apple he’d dropped.

“Ruddiger!” Quirin yelled. “That’s enough!”

No it wasn’t!

The critter stood on two legs, tail puffed up, angry as never before. How could this man not see that something was amiss?

“Ruddiger, I’m going to take you back to-“ Quirin turned, facing him. “Varian...” his face paled, eyes widening. Huh? A quick glance down revealed his sudden change; the bright red blood splattered across him.

Varian’s blood.

“Did you hurt yourself? Is that why you’re so upset?” Quirin said, leaning down with an apologetic smile. “You just wanted some attention, huh? Is Varian too busy to clean you up, poor thing.”

Well, he was certainly busy, so it was a start. Quirin licked his thumb, moving to wipe it off, when Ruddiger danced out of his way.

“Let me help you.” Quirin said, mood a lot more chipper now that he thought he was helping.

Ruddiger frowned, scampering a bit towards the house in the hopes of being followed. He glanced back.

“I can’t go home, Ruddiger, I have work.”

Ruddiger stared back. He chirped, more like a meow, with big, pleading eyes.

Quirin frowned. He wasn’t stupid, he knew the rodent’s trick. “No. I’m not giving in.”

Ruddiger cocked his head, swishing his tail.

“Ruddiger no.”

Another chirp.

Quirin sighed. Defeat was a bitter taste, heavy in his tongue. He’d always been weak for cute things, after all. When Varian had been born, he’d just stood there, holding the little thing, marveling at him. Not unlike how Varian will squeal when Ruddiger twitches in his sleep.

He shook out of his musing. “Alright. Fine. I’m coming.” Maybe he and Varian could have lunch together, it was nearly noon, after all. It’d be a nice change of pace.

His good mood stuttered to a stop at the sight before him.

“No…” he breathed, breaking into a sprint with the raccoon not far behind him. Their house was a disaster, the dirt road leading up to it caked in dust and wooden splinters that crunched underfoot.

He’d built that house, that home, with his wife for their child, and now it was in pieces.

What had happened?

He ran up to the debris, eyes scouring the wreckage to try and figure out where to even begin. A sharp cry from the raccoon pulled him along towards where the basement is. Or rather, was. The only way in was a small gap in what was once the window, which Ruddiger quickly shimmied into. Dropping to his knees Quirin dug with his hands, pulling at shards of glass and broken wood until he could lower himself in.

“Varian!” He cried with his feet barely just touching the ground. “Varian, where are you?” What on earth had happened? Varian was usually so careful! He’d begged Varian to be, even! “Varian!”

All he heard was silence. Ruddiger’s ears fell in guilt, in fear. He clawed at the ground to catch Quirin’s attention before bounding further into the basement, towards the debris pile. Soft footsteps confirmed Quirin following… until the sharp take in breath.

Ruddiger glanced up to confirm Varian’s body still hung limply, the same place it had been when he left. Still dripping of blood, unconscious, impaled.

“No, no no no…!” Quirin rushed over, taking his son’s face in his shaking hands. He brushed limp hair from his face and pressed their foreheads together. “My boy…?” There, ever so slightly, a faint breath fanned across his face. Still alive. The father’s shoulders slumped in pure relief.

But still there was the issue… how to save him. The piece of wood in his stomach acted like a plug, keeping most of the blood inside, as opposed to the floor and Ruddiger. Thankfully though, it wasn’t deep, and had entered his back, so it was unlikely any vital organs had been punctured. And that beam was supported by a large pile of boulders, foundations upturned in the explosion and coated in dust. He bit his lip, deep in thought.

“Dad…?”

Quirin started, turning to see Varian’s blue eyes fluttering open. A haze coated them, clarity having slipped away in the abyss of pain. He blinked a few times. “Wh...where…”

“Shh,” Quirin whispered, pressing their faces closer together. “Dad’s here. You’re gonna be ok.”

“What…? I… Ruddi…?” Varian slurred. Ruddiger chirped, rubbing up against Varian’s limp legs in support.

“Yes, he’s here,” He’d have to make this quick; if it took more than one pull Varian would likely feel the pain, might go into shock… if he wasn’t already. But without him bracing against the wood, the wood would act as a lever and set off the stones… they’d have only one chance, and would have to move quickly.

“Ruddiger. Go outside. We’ll join you shortly.”

What? No! Ruddiger whined. He hated having to leave Varian the first time, he sure as heck wasn’t going to do it again! Varian needed him! He needed help!

“Ruddiger.” Quirin’s voice held no room for argument. “Go.”

With his tail between his legs, he whined, but did as told, keeping the humans in eyesight from outside. A small crowd had gathered outside their home, having finally noticed the dust and debris. But they didn’t matter. Only Varian mattered.

With bated breath, he watched as Quirin spoke quietly to Varian, unable to tell what they were saying. Varian looked calm, too calm, compared to the worry lines marring Quirin’s forehead. The father took a deep breath, and then yanked on Varian’s fragile body. Ruddiger screeched in time with Varian, the boy’s eyes flying open and mouth letting out a guttural wail of pain.

The villagers winced as the house rumbled, shaking as rocks moved. The ground underneath them trembled. Small rocks clattered and another beaker fell and smashed.

Quirin grunted, lifting Varian up and over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. He’s getting too big for this, or maybe Quirin’s too old? Neither answer particularly soothed him. Time was a cruel mistress, after all. But if this could be the last time he held his boy, he would hold him forever.

The whole chamber shook, and Varian let out a whine in pain and fear, snapping Quirin into action. He raced over to the opening, quickly raising his precious son up into the waiting arms of the villagers. “Hurry!” He urged. “Get him to the doctor.”

“But what about you?” A villager cried. “Get out of there!”

“I’ll be fine!” A particularly rough shaking knocked a boulder towards him. “Go!”

The villager who took Varian ran off, and Quirin raised his arms in an attempt to climb back up. But he wasn’t a racoon, able to clamber up trees with ease. A few men grabbed his arms to try and pull him up, but the man was a brick wall, heavier than everyone else. His feet scrambled at the crumbling wall, a large rock falling from the unstable ceiling and slashing across his eye. He winched, blood dripping into the socket and obscuring his vision, but still he persisted.

The men pulled with all their might, able to yank Quirin out just as the entire basement collapsed. The stones that had been piled spread out like water, flattening where he had once stood. The father collapsed weakly into the grass, gasping for breath. Ruddiger bounded over and licked his face, mopping up the blood.

Quirin weakly smiled. “Good boy.” He scratched behind the animal’s ears.

Ruddiger purred.

Sun filtered through the cracked window, dust hanging in the air. A mote landed on Ruddiger’s nose, and he sneezed, forcing him to wake up. Bleary eyes glanced around his surroundings. Where was he again…?

A snicker caused his ears to twitch. He turned, glaring at the source.

Varian’s hand covered his mouth, one eye closed as he laughed. His head, torso, and… basically everything was wrapped in bandages. He looked like a mummy with all of them. His bed lay lightly coated in dust; there was no time to clean up the house with them all recovering. Thankfully, most of the house remained unscathed, it looked much worse on the outside than the inside. A few plates and delicates fell and broke, but otherwise it was as if a mild earthquake had rattled them, and that was it.

Well, the lab was another story. But that was for another day.

A soft knock pulled them apart, Quirin walking in with a glass of hot coco in his hands. “Hey kiddo,” he said. “Slept in, I see.”

“As always,” Varian grinned cheekily. Same as always, Quirin thought with an eyeroll.

“How are you feeling?” Quirin sat on the edge of the bed, Ruddiger moving so he didn’t get squished. He curled up on Varian’s lap and the boy’s deft fingers ran through soft fur.

“Better, I guess.” He hummed. “Still sore.”

Well yeah, Ruddiger thought with a huff. Getting skewered oughta make you sore. Quirin seemed the same, smiling sympathetically. He placed the cup on their bedside, nearly missing due to his bandaged eye.

Both of them were supposed to be resting, though the father needed much less of it. He ran his hands through Varian’s hair, the soothing motion causing his eyes to droop.

“Get some sleep,” He said. “Both of you. You deserve it.”

Ruddiger purred, tail swishing in pride.

Damn right he does.

…

And another apple.

#tangled #tangled the series #varian #tts #tts varian

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