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telemna-hyelle · 3 months

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What You Look At, You Change: Chapter 7 (Palace of the Four Sword Au)

It's amazing what listening to C'mon for nine hours straight can help you achieve

Chapter 7: One Link, Two Link, Red Link, Blue Link

“So the boss you told us about last time, he’s the one we need to face?” Hyrule asked, tilting his head thoughtfully.

“Yeah.” Legend nodded, folding his arms tightly and drilling into the ground with his gaze, avoiding his brothers’ eyes. “Mothula II. I’ll go over the plan for him again once we’re outside his chamber, so Vio’s up to speed, and we’ll all be prepared.”

“Being prepared is good!” Wind said, bouncing a little on his heels, injecting a little extra cheer into his voice in the hopes it would lift the mood.

Legend flinched, and turned away a little, and Wind’s smile slipped. He bit his lip.

A shoulder bumped against his, and a hand landed on his head—Red was now pressed up against the Sailor’s side, shooting Wind a kind smile, and Twilight ruffled Wind’s curls, the weight of his hand warm and bolstering.

“Sounds like a plan,” Twilight said, with a thoughtful nod. “Lead the way.”

*-/-*-/-*-/-*-/-*

Legend led them across the main room of the temple to the stairway that led to the path of the Blue Sword. It led down, and down, and down, into a lightless blackness.

“Oh great,” Sky said. “More darkness. Just what I wanted.”

Legend cracked his knuckles and dug into his bag. “You know the drill, same as last time.”

The others assembled into a rough approximation of the same order they had taken last time they’d descended down a dark staircase—Sky after Legend, then Hyrule and Twilight, then Wind, Red, and Green at the rear. Red and Green seemed to cluster a little closer to Wind, and Twilight saw the considering look the veteran shot the trio, before lifting his gaze and glancing meaningfully at Twilight. Twilight’s mind spun at how he was supposed to respond to this look, but his brain was derailed when Vio slipped into line behind him.

Twilight glanced down at the smith out of the corner of his eye, but kept his mouth firmly shut. Vio’s face was mostly reserved, with only a faint furrow between his brows betraying his agitation.

Twilight knew how it was, they were both Links, after all. If Vio wanted to talk, he would. Until then, Twilight wouldn’t press him to break out of his thoughts and silence.

Chatter filled the air. Wind was nearly bouncing down the stairs, waving one arm with a wild grin on his face as he spun out the tale of a confrontation with… a giant floating head and hands, apparently? That didn’t sound familiar at all to Twilight, but Red and Green were nodding along and chiming in, comparing a fight they had with a similar boss.

Hylia knows Twilight had seen his fair share of weird stuff on his adventure, but apparently there was far more out there.

Though, the ‘attack the giant eyeball’ part of it was refreshingly familiar—

“So, there are other Heroes of Courage on this quest?” Vio’s voice sounded suddenly, sliding through Twilight’s train of thought. “Ones that are not here?”

“That’s right. We have four more Links—or, well. Three more, I guess, if we don’t count your past self.”

Vio hummed thoughtfuly, ad was silent for a long moment. “Can you tell me about them? They are our comrades, after all. I should like to… remember them again, I suppose.”

“Sure.” Twlight shrugged. “Though I warn ya, ‘m not the best storyteller.” He grinned, and looked over his shoulder, as Wind thrust an imaginary blade forward with a cackle. “That honor goes to him.”

Vio looked back, and his eyes and mouth softened. The faint shadow of an impossibly sad warmth passed over his face, but only for a moment. “So it seems.” He turned back to look at Twilight and smirked, and that unbearably tender warmth was gone as if it had never been. “But best or not, you’re the one I’m asking.”

Twilight chuckled. “Well, there’s the Captain, and the Champion, and the old man—or Warriors, Wild, and Time. Time is our… leader, I suppose. He keeps us focused and gives us advice. We all look up to him. Wars helps him a lot—he’s an army captain, so that’s no surprise. He’s always got a plan, and he works really hard at keeping our spirits up, even if he and I butt heads a lot. And Wild…” He grinned at the thought of his protégé. “He’s a free spirit, and one of the best cooks I’ve ever met.”

Vio nodded thoughtfully. “And… do you know anything about their timeline placement?” Twilight’s gaze darted to him, and Vio smiled, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around this whole split-timeline business.”

That may be, Twilight thought, but something told him there was more to it—a sharp glint in violet eyes that his smile couldn’t quite hide. Still, it wasn’t exactly a secret, just… confusing.

He gave it his best attempt, explaining what he had been told of their adventures, and what the heroes had pieced together. Vio listened intently, nodding now and again… and with that sharp glint never leaving his eyes.

Somehow… Twilight felt as if he were missing something important.

He’d just finished when they reached the bottom of the staircase—it wasn’t like he had a lot to relate, after all—and the narrow stairway opened up into a vast dark room.

Legend turned, lifting his lantern high so he could see his brothers. His gaze lingered on Wind’s shield for a moment—only a moment, but Twilight caught it. “Watch your step! There’s some more stairs straight ahead, and then ice at the bottom, got it?” There was various nods and mutters of assent, and Legend nodded. “Good, so none of you better slip and break a leg or something.”

And with that, he turned and swiftly leapt down the stairs.

Someone, Twilight thought ruefully, was in a mood.

But then again, after a day like today, weren’t they all?

They reached the bottom of the stairs, and the lantern light glinted off the smooth white-blue surface of truly thick ice.

“All right, this room is really simple.” Legend pointed into the darkness across the room.” If the golden Octorocks are already defeated, that means the ladder will already be there, so we only need to slide across the ice to it.”

Wind let out a whoop, elbowed Hyrule and Red on either side, and shouted, “Last one to the other side is a rotten fish!” And he took off at a sprint across the ice, immediately losing his friction and shooting into a wild slide. His arms windmilled as he screeched, a manic grin on his face.

Hyrule, the Colors, and Sky all shared a single look; a look a that immediately transformed into identical gleeful smiles. The next second they were sprinting off across the ice, slipping and sliding as they tried to avoid the de-iced platform in the center of the room. Sky quickly approached Wind, his height working in his favoring against his fun-sized compatriots, but Wind’s head start managed to hold for the moment.

Sky was not to be outdone, and pulled the gust bellows out of his pack. He turned it around, flipped the switch, and went flying across the ice with a whoop.

“Here, take this!” Vio tossed something in Wind’s direction, and Wind barely managed catch it without falling on his face.

It was a white jar, with a band of blue swirls decorating the middle.

Wind’s grin turned maniacal.

Within moments, he was shooting across the ice, hot on Sky’s tail.

The other Colors quickly dug in their packs, pulling out their own gust jars. Vio pulled out a pair of boots instead, and Red saw this and grinned, pulling his own pair of boots out of his pack.

“Pegasus boots may only come in sizes for short people…” He wiggled the boots enticingly at Hyrule. “But wanna see if you can fit in them?”

Hyrule grinned. “Sweet Hylia, do I!”

Red tossed him the boots, and Hyrule quickly fumbled them on. Somehow they fit just right, which Hyrule supposed was because they were magical boots. He stood up, slid his foot forward, and rocketed across the ice. He flew past the colors, and passed Wind and Sky in a wild blur.

His wild shriek of joy was abruptly cut off when he slammed into the ladder. He slumped to the ground, groaning.

Sky let out a yelp of mingled laughter and dismay. “’Rule, you all right?”

Hyrule lifted his hand into the air, sticking up a thumb with a grin. “Heck yeah I’m all right,” He wheezed. “I’m not a rotten fish!’

Yells of protest arose from the other heroes, and they redoubled their efforts, jostling each other back and forth with the gust bellows as they strived to avoid a fishy fate.

Twilight and Legend watched from the far side of the room with amusement. Legend folded his arms with smirk. “Didn’t realize we were so forgettable.”

Twilight smirked back at him. “As if you wouldn’t normally be out there, trying to outdo them with all your little magical gadgets and gizmos.”

Legend arched an eyebrow. “Same goes for you, rancher, don’t think I don’t know about your competitive streak.”

Twilight shrugged. “Well, I would, if someone hadn’t lingered behind while giving me significant looks.” He raised both eyebrows at the veteran, and they stood staring at each other for a long moment.

Legend’s knee began bouncing, but Twilight continued to stare him down, steady as stone, if stone could smirk.

Finally, the Veteran’s hero’s-spirit-ingrained-curiosity could take it no longer, and he exploded.

“I’m not going crazy, right? Four’s shield—!”

Twilight cut him off with a sharp shake of his head. “This isn’t the time to discuss it.”

Legend stared at him, then threw his arms in the air. “Well then, why did you just stand there until I gave in and asked the question?”

Twilight grinned. “Because it was funny.”

The veteran’s teeth ground audibly, and he turned away, muttering under his breath. He muttered for a good minute, before finally sighing and turning back, folding his arms. “I get it. There’s a lot going on right now.” The words were grumbly and reluctant, and Legend sniffed at Twilight for good measure. “Still, good to know I’m not crazy.”

Twilight grinned wider. “Well, I wouldn’t go so far as to say that—”

Legend kicked him and stuck out his tongue. “Have fun being the rotten fish!”

And with a kick of his Pegasus boots, he was flying across the ice.

Twilight yelped and took off after him, yelling after the veteran all the way.

*-/-*-/-*-/-*-/-*

It was drawing near the end of his watch when the sound of retching caused Four to jump into action. In a quick movement he turned Time on his side and pulled the blankets away—and just in time.

He shoved a hand through his hair and sighed at the mess, trying to decide what to do—

“Four?”

The smith turned to see Wild sitting up in his bedrolling, yawning and scrubbing at one eye with the heel of his hand.

Four felt his shoulders slump in a sigh. He should have known the noise would wake Wild up—the Champion always slept lightly and woke early: he claimed it was because his body had stocked up on sleep for a hundred years and he didn’t really need it anymore. Four didn’t know if magical sleep worked like that for sure, but, well… he wouldn’t be surprised. After all…

He shook the thought away and grinned a little sheepishly. “If you’re awake, uh… I could use some help?”

Wild slipped out of his bedroll, wandered over, and winced. “Yeah… what do you need me to do?”

Four frowned thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. “Can you make him something to eat? He really needs something in his stomach.”

Wild gave Four a lazy salute and a wink. “I can certainly do that. Anything else?”

Four considered again. “Can you help me move him to the far side of the fire?”

After a hasty discussion of strategy, and the application of Four’s power bracelets. Wild took Time’s head, Four took his feet, and they slowly dragged him around to the other side of the fire.

“Thank Hylia…” Wild said with a wink, “That he doesn’t have his armor on right now…” He shuffled carefully, slowly but surely edging Time around the firepit, “…or this would be a nightmare.”

Four giggled, his breath hitching with the edge of hysteria. Wild caught it, and gave Four a knowing look. “You need sleep, don’t you?”

Four shook his head. “I’m fine. What I need is to look after Time.”

Wild looked very skeptical, but Four ignored him, focusing on carrying their leader with minimal jostling. Finally they reached a spot that was relatively smooth and just the right distance from the fire, and they set him down carefully. Time stirred fitfully despite their care, but that was all right. He needed to be awake to get something in his stomach again.

Wild bent over the pot while Four used his fire rod to quickly “sanitize” the mess. No sense dealing with the yuck when you could just incinerate it into oblivion, after all.

He wasn’t quite sure how he would explain the huge black scorch mark on the cave floor to Wars when he would up, but Four would jump that chasm when he came to it.

Then he returned to his place by Time’s side, wiping his face with chilled water and trying not to count each fitful breath.

After a half-hour or so, Wild carefully carried over a bowl, a piece of bread tucked under one arm. Four reached up and took it, taking a deep sniff of the warm aroma rising from the wooden bowl.

“What’d you make?”

Wild plopped down beside him, giving Time a complicated look as he bit his lip. Four could see the antsy movements in hands and shoulders—he knew how this had to be affecting Wild.

Wild had lost companions before, and even though this was just a simple fever, even simple things can make old fears grow in strength.

“Creamy heart soup—though I left out the milk and used a water broth instead cause it’s easier on the stomach. And I left out the voltfruit too for the same reasons. And the hydromelon.”

Wild paused.

“Maybe it’s just hearty radish soup, then.”

He took the bread out from under his arm and wiggled it. “And remember when I baked bread a few days ago? I warmed up one of the loaves by the fire, so you can maybe dip that in the soup? Give him something a little solid in his stomach? Bread always helps me.”

His words were getting a little rambly, spinning out like thread from a spindle, as if speaking could distract him from the thoughts lurking deep below the surface. Four knew that too well, so he simple smiled. “Thanks, Link.”

Wild blinked, gave Four a strange look, but finally shrugged and smiled. “You’re welcome!”

Four turned and set a hand on Time’s shoulder, shaking it gently. “Time? Old man?”

Time groaned, but it was more a groan of protest than discomfort, and his eyes opened to bleary slits.

Good enough.

“Can you help him sit up?” He whispered to Wild, and the champion nodded, scooting around to help prop Time up.

Once Time was in a sitting position, Four scooped up a spoonful and offered it with a grin. “Now, are you gonna let me do this the easy way this time, or…”

Time blinked slowly, squinted and muttered, “…captain?”

Four almost dropped the spoon. Wild choked. “He must be really out of it if he mistook you for Wars!”

The smith let out a short laugh. “Yeah, I guess he must be. Maybe it’s because the Captain apparently raised the old man.”

Wild’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? HOW?”

Four shrugged. “Time travel shenanigans, apparently.” He focused on spooning the soup into Time’s mouth, who took it without protest this time. “You’d have to ask the captain.”

They fell into silence, Four concentrating on his task and Wild on keeping Time’s rather heavy torso upright. Finally, the bowl was empty, the bread consumed, and Time was laid back down on the bedroll and tucked in.

Wild stood up and stretched, puling out his slate to check the time. “Why don’t you go to bed, smith? Your watch has been over for a bit.”

Four stirred and looked up at Wild, before glancing back at Time. “But—”

“Hey.” Wild held out a hand to Four. “We’re all brothers here. I’ll keep a watch on Time, promise.”

“I…” Four glanced down at Time, then back at Wild’s face, which was determinedly smiling despite the anxiety still lurking in the tenseness of his muscles. He sighed, and grinned, taking Wild’s hand. “All right.”

Wild lent him his blanket, since Four’s was still draped over Time, and Four climbed into his bedroll, lying on his side and pulling the blanket over his shoulder.

His eyes slipped shut, his last thought a wish for a dreamless sleep.

*-/-*-/-*-/-*-/-*

The next two rooms were tricky, and the heroes were quiet as they followed Legend’s instructions, watching their feet lest they step on the wrong tile and send them all plummeting to their doom. The next room was less difficult, but still had one of the traps active.

Legend frowned down at the blue fireball. He frowned at Twilight. “Why didn’t you get rid of the fireball while you were getting rid of everything else and giving me anxiety?”

Twilight looked at him, unimpressed. “How am I supposed to get rid of a fireball.”

Legend refused to be suppressed. “I dunno, but that seems like a you problem.”

Wind grinned. “Well, now he can’t, can he? Cause it’d be a paradox, right?”

Legend scowled.

Sky frowned thoughtfully. “Well, I know I went back in time and changed stuff that I knew happened, so maybe it’s possible—”

“Anyone else getting a headache?” Hyrule whispered to the Colors, and Red and Green raised their hands.

VIo set his hands on his hips. “Is this really the most important thing at the moment?”

Legend coughed sheepishly and pointed at the switch across the way. “Someone hit that, please?”

Wind quickly pulled his bow out of his pack, aimed, and fired, turning the switch from red to blue. With a flick of the Cane of Somaria, Legend placed the block, and then flapped the cane at his companions. “Alright, hurry up! Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!”

The heroes hastened down the stairs to the lower level, sprinting before the fireball could catch up to them. It was a narrow hallway, and there was a lot of them, and the fireball barreled towards them before they could all get up the steps.

Legend, who had reached the top of the stairs, turned to check on his brother’s progress, and paled. “Hyrule, Red, watch out!”

Hyrule saw the brilliant blue blaze bearing down on them, and acted quickly. He grabbed in both arm, frantically gathered magic, and jumped. The pair of them soared through the air, whooping excitedly as they passed over their comrades, and landed neatly on the top of the stairs next to Legend.

Legend propped his hands on his hips and nodded admirably. “Nice.”

Hyrule set Red down on the steps. The smith grinned wildly. “That was amazing.”

Twilight reached the top of the stair, quickly sweeping both of them into a bear hug—or would it be a wolf hug? Legend mused thoughtfully—lifting them up so their feet dangled. “That was some jump there, traveler.”

Hyrule beamed proudly. “I love that spell.”

Twilight laughed and set them back on the ground, and Wind and the other two Colors quickly gathered around. Vio was asking Hyrule the specifics of the spell, Green was ruffling Red’s hair, and Wind was excitedly asking Hyrule if he could jump next time.

Legend cleared his throat.

“Ready for the last boss?”

It took them a moment, but the heroes calmed down and settled down to the business of checking their gear and tallying supplies. Legend waited until it seemed they were all ready.

“Alright. The next boss is Mothula II, and here’s the plan.”

*-/-*-/-*-/-*-/-*

The door slammed shut behind them, and a giant moth rose from the floor, spreading it’s massive wings as it glared down at the heroes with eyes glowing with hostility.

Sky stared up at Mothula II and whistled. “That’d take some bug net.”

Twilight nodded solemnly. “I think Agatha would faint from joy.”

Legend spun the sword in his grip, glaring up at the bug. After… last time.. He didn’t really feel like playing around. “Ready to kick some bug butt?”

The other Links tightened their grips on their weapons, letting their silence be their answer.

With a mighty flap of it’s wings, two more giant moths spawned, and they began circling each other, spitting rings of sizzling energy.

“Arrows!” Legend called, and Twilight swiftly sent an arrow darting through the air, squarely piercing the moth’s head.

The moth exploded in a poof of dust, revealing a swarm of bees. A symphony of enraged buzzing rose as the swarm descended upon twilight—only for Sky to dart in front of the rancher, sword moving so swiftly it was almost dancing in his hand.

Bees fell in clumps, not a single one managing to get past the Chosen Hero’s guard.

Vio pulled back his bow, aiming and firing in a smooth, long practiced movement. The arrow thudded into a mouth’s eye, and the whole creature shuddered, flashing a dusty grey.

“That’s the one!” Legend yelled, grinning fiercely. “Great shot, Vio! Everyone, focus on him and ignore the others!”

He charged forward, stabbing his sword into the giant moth. Green, Twilight, Hyrule, and Sky were on his heels, blades flashing, and Wind had busted out a giant hammer, beating and battering the moth with glee. Twilight eyed him as he ducked an energy ring.

Maybe he still has pent-up rage from the Blind II fight. I wouldn’t be surpised, after all…

He charged at the moth with a savage yell, thrusting his sword into the moth’s abdomen.

…I know I do.

Vio and Red hung back, shooting off arrows and fireballs at Mothulla II in between calling out warnings about the clone. Mothula spat more and more energy rings, roaring in rage in concert with his flashing grey.

He seemed to be slowing, the wind stirred by the great flaps of his wings beginning to die off. Green noticed. He charged forward with a shout, eyes burning with emerald fire. The Four Sword swung in a glittering arc, slamming into Mothula II’s abdomen. The moth roared and flashed grey again, only to flash once more when a blazing fireball slammed into it, accompanied by a triumphant yell from Red.

The next moment, an arrow slammed into it’s other eye, and Mothula II screeched. It shuddered, froze, and turned a deathly grey all over. After one dreadful, silent moment, it slowly crumbled into dust, vanishing forever.

Vio lowered his bow with a grim smile.

Legend took a deep breath and whooshed it out in a sigh of relief, sliding his sword back into it’s sheath.

“We’re done.”

*-/-*-/-*-/-*-/-*

The Blue Sword stood proudly in the center of the room, the center of attention of every eye gathered there.

“So…” Wind crossed his arms, tipping his head to one side curiously. “…how badly is …Blue?... gonna react?”

Red’s shoulders drooped. “Very.”

“It’s not like you reacted well to the whole situation yourself,” Legend said, raising an eyebrow. “Is Blue really gonna be that different?”

The colors exchanged a glance. It was Vio who spoke, folding his arms and looking to one side. “Blue… is my passion. He feels deeply, and is not the best at keeping those emotions under control. Losing our—” He swallowed hard. “What happened hurts all of us, but because of his nature, it will hurt him the most.

“If we don’t stop him, he’ll try to take that hurt out on any perceived threat.”

There was a long beat of uncomfortable silence before Sky spoke up. “We’ll just have to be ready for anything, then.” He glanced around. “Who want’s to draw--?”

Wind shot his hand in the air. “I haven’t gotten a turn yet!”

Legend waved a hand towards the sword. “Be my guest!”

Wind stepped forward, and the other heroes gathered around, weapons set aside to leave hands free, muscles tensed and at the ready.

Wind pulled the sword, and a small figure clad in a blue tunic and cap appeared, black blood spilling out onto the stones below him, flowing in rivers from his side.

“Quick, grab him!” Twilight called, which was a mistake.

Blue exploded into action with a snarl. Before Twilight could get ahold of him, Blue had leapt forward onto Legend, spitting rage and clawing at his face. Only the instincts of six adventures enabled Legend to react in time—he reached up and managed to snag Blue’s wrists, but not before several stingling lines were drawn down his cheek. Blues hands flailed furiously in Legend’s grip, simultaneously trying to throttle the veteran and gouge his eyes out.

“HELP, PLEASE!” Legend yelled, and the rest of the Links, who had been frozen in shock, were galvanized into action. Twilight seized Blue around the middle, and despite Blue’s frenzied thrashing, managed to haul him off the veteran. Legend kept his hold on Blue’s wrists, trying to force them down before the smith managed to score a hit on the rancher, while Green and Vio grabbed Blue’s legs, but not before Vio took a boot to the face.

“Are you okay?” Red yelped, but Vio shook his head, wincing. His jaw ached and he was pretty sure his nose was bleeding, but that wasn’t the important thing right now.

“Quickly, heal him before his wound gets worse! All this thrashing could cause internal injuries!”

Sky had already drawn his sword, and Blue’s screaming increased. “I’ll kill you, just wait until I get my hands on—” The Master Sword blazed, and the blackness in the blood vanished, purified and incinerated. Blue cried out, whether in pain or rage they could not say, but before he could spit more vitriol, Hyrule grabbed his jaw and poured blue potion down his mouth. Blue tried to spit it out, but Hyrule clamped his jaw shut with an apologetic wince.

“I’m sorry but I don’t have a choice!”

Blue’s eyes blazed at Hyrule over his hand, but he was forced to swallow. Then he let out a gasp of shock when he felt the potion take effect, knitting the torn sinews and flesh together, smoothing the skin out once more.

Then he sunk his teeth into Hyrule’s hand. Hyrule yelped and tried to jerk back, but Blue’s grip was too strong, his eyes glaring the hatred of a thousand moblins.

Red dropped to his knees beside Blue, grabbed either side of Blue’s face, and shouted, “ZELDA’S OKAY!”

Blue instantly stilled.

He was still tense, but his eyes darted around the room, taking stock of everyone’s faces—and of the blooming angry swelling on Vio’s nose, foretelling a possible future of a double black eye.

Slowly, carefully, Blue relaxed his jaw. Hyrule snatched his hand away, shaking it ruefully and pulling a little on his Life spell to erase the teeth marks.

“Someone had better explain what is going on,” He growled, “And they’d better explain it fast.”

*-/-*-/-*-/-*-/-*

Despite his request, it took a long time to explain it to Blue, mostly because Blue would devolve into angry yelling and accusations if something seemed suspicious even in the slightest. Finally, though, after Green, Red, and Vio had vouched for the other heroes and what seemed to be happening, and after the evidence of the Hero of the Sky and the Goddess Sword of Legend, Blue seemed to believe it… though he certainly wasn’t happy.

“Why can’t we just use their… time travel quest whatever to get back home?” He flung his arm out. “If you think I’m just going to abandon my CHILDREN you are absolutely out of your mind!” He glared at Green, Red, and Vio. “I can’t believe you would just go along with this!”

Green gritted his jaw and looked away, Red’s head drooped, but Vio crossed his arms and cooly stared back at Blue. “Are you truly all right with the possibility of fracturing three flourishing timelines and dooming billions of lives to oblivion?”

Blue was tense as a drawn bowstring, glaring still at Vio for a long moment, before finally he deflated like a popped octo balloon.

He shook his head and looked away. “No, and you know that.” He ground his teeth, before rallying for a second round. “But how can you be sure it would do that? All you have to go off of are some words on a wall—it’s not like you know what happened to Link and Zelda—” his voice abruptly choked off, for he had seen the slight flinch in Vio’s expression, the tightening of his lips and the tiny movement of his violet irises glancing to the side.

Blue’s eyes widened, his breath catching in his chest, burning cold swirling in his chest. “You know.”

The accusation was low and hissed, shock and betrayal dripping like icicles from the words.

Everyone’s gaze snapped to Vio, who had gained control of his expression once more, his mien stern and cold as stone. “No, I don’t,” he said calmly.

Blue stepped forward, eyes narrowing. “Yes, you do,” he snapped. “I know you, Vio, you’re me. I know when you’re hiding something. You KNOW, or at least you have a guess, don’t you?” He snarled. “That’s it, isn’t it? You have a guess, and you don’t want to tell us until you know. Guess what? As soon as we join again every part of me will know, so why are you holding back when wE COULD BE RESCUING MY KIDS.”

“Blue, settle down!” Green called, but Blue ignored him.

He grabbed the front of Vio’s tunic, shaking him, but Vio stared back at him, his jaw gritted. “Because it’s just a guess,” he snapped. “I don’t have any proof, and I don’t want to build up false hopes or—” his voice faltered.

Green had stepped forward, trying to break the two of them apart, but Red had caught the note in Vio’s voice. “What is it, Vio?” He stepped forward, his voice rising with stress and fear. “What’s wrong. You’re acting like you think something…” he swallowed. “…terrible happened to the babies.”

Blue twisted his fists in Vio’s tunic, vibrating with rage. “This isn’t your time for games, Vio! You’re not solving anything, you’re just making it worse! What could possibly be worse than this situation? They’re already dead in this time, so how could it be any—”

“DON’T ASK ME THAT.” Vio yelled, his own eyes blazing, his cool façade finally cracked. “Don’t you dare ask me that, unless you think you’re prepared for the answer, because you’re not.” He was shaking now, with rage or sorrow or something in between, and he grabbed Blue’s tunic in return, matching Blue glare for glare.

“Answer me, Blue,” he said, his voice frantically trying to stay smooth, despite the cracks forming in it’s foundations. “Ever since you woke up, you’ve been trying to forget something, haven’t you? I can see it in your eyes, and in Red’s, and in Green’s. You don’t want to face it, so you’ve been running away from it. But I haven’t.”

Blue’s eyes widened, his grip on Vio slackening, but Vio pressed on.

“Tell me this,” he said, low and with the tenseness of a man hanging onto control by the fingernails, “from while we were sealed… what did you dream.”

*-/-*-/-*-/-*-/-*

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sp0o0kylights · 9 months

Text

Part Two / Part Three

Ao3

It's 8:45 am.

The Red Barn, which is neither red nor a barn, has been open since 7, catering to the early morning crowd with rounds of coffee and pancakes.

It was no Benny's, but given the size of Hawkins and the lack of alternatives?

No one was complaining.

They were all too happy someone had opened up another watering hole for the working class man (or lass, as Foreman Shelly will dutifully remind you) which meant the place was packed with both day and night shift regulars, passing each other in staggered waves.

It also meant Wayne was sharing the packed breakfast counter with a warehouse worker by the name of John Cheese on one side and Police Chief Jim Hopper on the other.

He doesn't mind it.

Wayne's a man on a budget thinner than his shoelace, but he's also a man who understands that small indulgences need to be made in life or you didn't truly live it.

This is how he convinces himself to get a coffee at the Barn after work everyday, reading the morning newspaper and chatting with the other regulars before he heads home.

Bonus, it gets him out of the rapid-fire franticness that is his nephew in the mornings.

(All the love in the world wouldn't change the fact that all that Eddie came with a lot of noise.

The kind of noise that was a tried and true recipe for a headache right after a long shift.)

As a trade off, Wayne went to bed early so he could wake up in time for dinner with Eddie.

It was a nice little system that worked for them.

A routine Wayne was reminiscing fondly on, when the pager on Chief Hopper started to chirp. With a sad moan, the man fished out a few crumbled bills and threw them on the counter, abandoning his coffee to trudge out to his truck.

This was not unusual.

Particularly recently, given they were but a scant few weeks past that whole mall ordeal. A fact all too easy to remember when one caught sight of the Chief’s still healing face.

What was unusual, was when he came storming through the doors a minute later, face now a furious shade of red with his hat clenched in his hand.

The energy in the room shifted, taking on something a little watchful as Hopper swept his gaze from side to side, like a dog on the hunt.

Judging by the way he stilled when he caught sight of Wayne, the latter assumed he found what he was looking for and could only pray it was the person behind him.

(He liked John, but Wayne had enough trouble this year and he wasn't looking for any more.)

"Munson." Hopper called, striding over and dashing all his hopes. There was a choked fury emitting off him, and given the way John audibly scooted his chair away, Wayne knew everyone had clocked it.

"Chief." Wayne greeted, inclining his head towards him.

Idly he wondered what the hell his nephew had done this time.

'So help me if he stole all the town's lawn flamingos and put them in that damn teachers yard again….'

Wayne didn't even get to finish his threat, the Chief was already next to him.

"Mind if I have a word outside?"

Dammit Eddie.

"Ah hell, what's he done now?" Wayne asked with a sigh, eyeing the coffee he had left morosely.

There was still almost half of it left and the pot had tasted fresh for once.

"What?" Hopper said, and then Wayne got to watch as the man ran through an entire chain of thoughts, each one punctuated by things like; "Oh," and "No. "

"This is something else." He finished, flushed and fidgeting, anger making him antsy.

Wayne stared up at him.

"Something else?" He repeated, not sure he heard.

"Yes, something else." Hopper snapped impatiently, before leaning forward, voice dropping low. "This doesn't involve your nephew, but we both know you owe me for how many times I've let that kid off, Wayne. That's a damn big favor I've been doing you and I'm calling it in."

If it were any other cop, it'd sound like a threat.

It was Hopper though. The same Hopper who Wayne had gone to school with.

They'd never been friends exactly, but they had been friendly and remained so. Even now, after Wayne had taken Eddie in, who’d gone on to be an undeniable pain in the local PD’s ass.

Hopper really did let the kid off easy.

Wayne really did owe him.

So he put down his coffee with a sigh, passed his newspaper over to John and stood up, motioning for Hopper to lead the way. Got into the Chief’s truck when he waved him in, and didn’t make a big fuss when Hopper tore out of the parking lot like hell was about to open up under them.

"Not a lot of the kids involved in the mall fire could be identified, but a few of them were." Hopper started, which felt nonsensical given the utter lack of context.

Wayne hummed to show he’d heard.

“Some of them got banged up more than others, and a lot of people wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t make it.”

A pause, Hopper white knuckling the steering wheel as he swung the truck hard around a turn.

“For certain people, those kids dying is the preferred outcome.”

A mix of fear and warning swopped low in Wayne’s gut.

"Jim." Wayne said, dropping the use of a last name because if any situation called for it, it was this one. "What exactly are you saying here?"

The Chief chewed on his split lip.

"I know you're smart, Munson. I know you, and plenty of others are aware that something's happening, been happening in this town."

Which was a hell of an understatement if you asked Wayne. Plenty of the upper classes might be able to bury their heads when it came to the military parading about and the flow of “accidents” they brought in their wake, but then, they didn't see all the other signs of trouble.

The absolute oddity that was Starcourt’s construction.

How it had been built using primarily outside crews and anyone who'd taken a singular look at the site could tell you they were building it weird.

Weird as in it looked like it would have a multi-level basement, and not what a mall should have.

Then there were the constant electrical problems. The backups upon backups that failed. The late night delivery vans headed out to the Hawkins Lab.

The things in the woods that kept spooking all the deer and the weird markings they left behind that unnerved even the hardest of hunters.

This didn’t even touch the Russian military that more than one reputable person swore was hanging around.

The very same Wayne himself had seen, on more than one occasion.

(And you couldn’t deny it; those boys were military. Past or present, it didn’t matter. They moved like a threat, and Wayne treated them like one, staying well clear.)

"Yeah." Wayne admitted. "I also know better than to stick my nose in it."

"That makes you a smarter man than me.' Hop complained under his breath, but the anger was self directed.

"The point is, there are some government types crawling around, doing shit they shouldn't be doing, and more than a few of them are in the business of making people disappear.”

This was absolutely not where Wayne had thought this was going.

Hopper took a breath. Than another.

A third.

It was starting to make Wayne nervous, in a way he hadn’t felt since a social worker had brought Eddie to him for the last time and final time. It was the feeling that things were about to shift in a way that would change the course of his life.

"Steve Harrington is sitting in my office right now, beat to absolute shit.” Hopper admitted.

Wayne gave him the floor to talk, letting him go at his own pace without interruptions.

“He's there because some of those government types finally figured out his parents are never fucking home.”

Wayne sucked in a breath.

"We both know his parents, Wayne. Harassing them to come back and take care of their kid won't work, and frankly, I’m beginning to think all the phone lines are tapped anyway.” He winced here, like voicing such a thing pained him, and Wayne understood.

It sounded a little too out there, a little like he was buying into a conspiracy.

Except he wasn’t. Wayne knew he wasn’t.

Jim Hopper might have been an alcoholic, a man living in pain and unconcerned with his own life, but if there was one thing he was solid for, it was shit like this.

He didn’t jump to conclusions. Didn’t believe the first thing people told him. Even at his worst, he did the work to see what was really happening, and made his decisions from there.

(Even if that decision was to accept the occasional bribe, or drive an intoxicated 13 year old Eddie home instead of hauling his ass into the drunk tank.)

“Harrington won’t admit it, but he’s got a hell of a concussion if not a full blown brain injury and he’s not reacting as well as he should to Suites trying to run him off the road.” Hopper continued. Angrily, he added, “Damn kid didn’t even come to me until they tried to break into his house last night.”

His fingers squeezed the wheel so hard Wayne heard the leather creak in protest.

“I’d take him, but my cabin is being renovated from…” He trailed off, heaving a sigh.

“A storm, so me and my kid are bunked with the Byers right now and we’re full up.”

Hawkins hadn't had a storm like that in years, but Wayne wasn't going to call him out on the blatant lie.

“I need a place to stash him for the next few weeks, until I can work with some of the higher ups sniffing around, and get them to call off their attack dogs.”

“And you want to stuff him with me.” Wayne finished.

“I know you don’t have the room.” Hopper admitted easily, stopping his truck at a red light and locking eyes with the other man. “But I also know you’ll be the last place anyone would look for him.”

'Ain’t that the damn truth.'

“You’re really gonna go this far for a Harrington?” Wayne asked, instead of the million of other questions leaping to the forefront of his mind.

This one, he figured, was the most important.

“He’s not his dad.” Hopper said, as firm as Wayne had ever heard him. “He’s not either of his parents, and he saved my little girl.”

Wayne hadn’t even known Hopper had another little girl, but he also knew better than to ask where the guy had found one.

It wasn’t his business, just as nothing else Jim was involved in, was his business.

Except, apparently, Steve Harrington.

“I’m gonna need my own truck if I’m takin' Harrington home.” Wayne said easily, instead of bothering to ask anything else.

If Jim said the kid was different than his daddy, then he was--because when it came to things like that, Jim didn't lie.

No point in it.

“I know. Just needed to talk to you first, without anyone overhearing.” Jim said, before swinging the police truck around and heading back to the Barn.

“I’ll stay in contact with you, and I’ll make sure Harrington pays you for the pleasure of your hospitality. Just--” Here Jim cut himself off, looking like he was struggling an awful lot with the next thing he wanted to say.

Once again, Wayne waited him out.

“Don’t let Steve fool you. He’s good at fooling people, letting them think he’s okay. Too good at it, and between the two of us, I have a real good idea of the reason why.”

A memory came to Wayne unbidden, of Richard Harrington and Chet Hagan, beating some poor kid in the highschool bathroom bloody. The grins on their faces as the poor guy wailed for them to stop.

How they almost hadn’t.

“Alright.” Wayne agreed.

Hopper swung back into the Barn's parking lot, and Wayne moved right to his own beat to shit truck, ready to follow Jim back to the police station.

He wasn’t a praying man, not anymore, but Catholisim wasn’t a thing that let you go easy.

He found himself sending up a quick prayer, fingers flicking in a kind of miniature version of the sign of the cross.

Considering his own kid’s history with Harrington, and the sheer small space of the trailer?

Wayne had a feeling it was needed.

#this has like t wo more parts #pre steddie #wayne as a BAMF #wayne and Hopper both as psuedo parents to Steve #ya'll are gonna have to put up with my weird ass jumping all over the place warm ups sorry lol #Gary's fourth piece is coming no worries #and then this will either take its place or the other one I have will #you CANNOT look me in the eye and tell me all the blue color workers arent aware shits going down #like 100% local crews took one look at starcourt and went what the fuck #nevermind you know the local power plant lol #and with demo critters running around its not like they were tearing through brushes and shit #your local hunters are gonna know somethings up #anyway #beat to shit Steve Harrington #my beloved #hes gonna show up busted to shit with a major grade concussion and Eddie is gonna shit himself #steve harrington #steddie #I spelled collar color and im not changing it #outsider pov #wayne pov #I will write the first person who knows where I pulled John from a prompt of their choice #catholic wayne munson #jim hopper

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