Chapter Text
The door shut behind them slowly, a soft click, almost mocking.
Just like that, both of them are thrown into the busy hallway. Hushed complaints about prisoners, a faint printer in the backroom, secretaries gossiping among themselves. A wave of movement from the halls as the two of them stand frozen in front of the heavy doors. It's normal workplace chaos — normal people going on with their boring lives. Wemmbu feels sicker than before. It's like Flame and him are frozen in time while the world spins normally.
A wave of heat starts rising from next to him. Wemmbu turns to look at his rival, scorch marks on the floor, while the man trembles. The heat is almost unbearable, yet he can't find it in him to complain. Both of their lives had changed irrefutably. If Wemmbu wasn't so utterly tired from whatever the collar has, he would have been kicking a fuss too. Flame keeps looking at the entrance of the prison, eyes searching for the cells, like he's desperate.
A guard approaches them, warily looking at Flame, as he stops in front of them. Mechanically the guard explains that Wemmbu needs to sign some paperwork if he wanted his things back. The information flies over Wemmbu's head. His items were useless now, still his communicator was there as most of his armor. He'd been damned if he let Lettuce keep his resources, as little as they were, for himself. A soft sigh slips out of his lips, as he starts following the guard.
Flame falls into step next to him, seething, desperate. There must be something the other man really wants to see if he was following to the prisoners entrance. Wemmbu doubts Flame cares enough about him to follow him into the horrid prison for the good of his heart.
The silence is uncomfortable, both of them speechless, walking side by side like zombies. For once there's no antagonistic banter, no teasing, nothing to fill the air. Wemmbu can't help but let his mind wander.
He hopes Egg is okay back in the End. The seraphim would likely have known what to do in this situation, offer some kind of information, anything.
Maybe Wemmbu could visit him — even if he doubts Lettuce would let him — put the excuse of the end library having some type of information. Egg would at least try to help him. And really, if he's being honest? He misses the seraphim. He misses his best friend. Wemmbu's hands reach instinctually for his communicator, patting his empty pockets. Right, no communicator, he was following the guard for that.
Flame and Wemmbu suddenly stop in front of the metallic doors that separate the prison from the outer offices. His hand reaches for the handle, wavering, as he turns to look at Flame tense figure.
"I have to enter now" He mutters tiredly, watching as Flame leans against the wall. His rival nods weakly, standing there, as lost as he is.
With a sigh, he pushes the doors open. An annoying creaking coming from them, while he rushes inside. The sooner all of this is done, the sooner he can get out of this place.
His eyes flicker to the rows of chairs, to the empty desk of the secretary, as he sits at the end. There's only one other prisoner in here with him. Wemmbu doesn't even bother looking at him, too lost in his head.
The place is completely boring, pristine floors, the ticking of the clock resonating in the room. Wemmbu eyes scan for the secretary with an impatient frown. The whole place is bare of anything, there are no distraction, nothing he wants to think about. The wait only makes his thoughts linger on the soulbond, to the lack of color of the symbols of his skin, still inactive. It was supposed to activate slowly in the span of two days. After all, soul magic was always complicated.
Tomorrow they will know if the bond settled as it should. They would know if it has any side effects. This ritual was supposed to require a lot of their energy too. Flame and him will be completely powerless tomorrow, drained of magic, maybe even feverish.
They will need to prepare today for it, barricade the house, make it safe enough. One more thing to worry about, one more thing to do, added into the ever growing list of problems.
Normally the family of the soulbound couple would arrange to look over them. Neither Flame nor him had any available family they trust enough to care for the both of them. Egg was too far away — and really Wemmbu would hate to make the seraphim take care of both of them. So, they'll have to take care of their own.
It was fine, probably.
"Lomedy" The secretary called from the desk, having arrived at some point during his musings. His head snapped in the direction of the other prisoner, Lomedy, clarity falling into place. Lomedy was a farmer, not even a criminal. One of Flamefrags allies, or at least he thinks so. Was the law just throwing people to prison for their connection?
The man, with red puffy eyes, was looking confused at his surroundings.
Instead of being processed and led into the interrogation room, where all new prisoners went, he was being called to the desk. Wemmbu, grateful for the distraction, looked at the farmer with intrigue.
"The terms for your release have been completed. The charges of your execution have been dropped. Sign this papers and you are free to go." The secretary said to the man, looking bored. So, the farmer wasn't being imprisoned — he was being released.
Suddenly, it made sense. Flame's reluctance to attack Lettuce, the fact that he was waiting outside, the folder. The term of execution being thrown around freely, like it was simple paperwork. Lettuce had been threatening to execute a simple farmer on fake charges just to lure Flame in here. And it had worked.
Lomedy signed the papers through trembling, relief on his system, as tears fell to the paper. The secretary just nodded coldly, processing the paperwork. She called one of the guards to open the door. Wemmbu just looked dumbly as Lomedy was escorted out of the prison.
Huh, so that's one of the ways Lettuce had managed to force his rival into this situation? Wemmbu was suddenly glad that Egg was trapped in the library.
The filling of the paperwork since then is easy enough. Nothing but boring clauses about his charges, his sentence, nonsense that didn't matter anymore. Then he had to wait once more for a guard to bring out his enderchest, which took way longer than he would want to. Finally, when an unbearable exhaustion had dripped into his bones, a guard emerged. His things were thrown with little care, as he evaluated the whole stack for any missing items. Everything was intact which was a relief.
"You never said I couldn't use my wings, so technically, it's not cheating" Wemmbu teases back, flapping his wings. The wind he generates sends smoke everywhere, tainting the walls grey.
At some point one of his wings smacks a flower pot, it tumbles to the floor, scattering dirt all over the place. Flame steps on it, his steps deliberate, as he tracks dirt over the polished floors. By the time they arrive to the main exit, most of Lettuce employees hate them. Which is a shame, really, how would they now work with these people now? Wemmbu doesn't think the workers will be very happy with Lettuce's decision. Oh, things just got a lot more difficult for the leader. Good, great even.
The halls have turned from a polished picture perfect office hall to a mess. It looks like a hurricane swept the entire place upside down. There are muddy footprints all over the floors, scorch marks on the disorganized bookshelfs, books and feathers scattered around in a chaotic mix. Wemmbu stares at Flame, amused smile on his lips, then stares at the chaos around them. Lettuce would grow to regret his decision over time.
"Oops" Wemmbu says, dropping near the floor before flying up again — covering the guards in sand.
Lettuce was going to be livid.
Still, as he took off in the direction of Flame's base.
Teasing, occasionally smacking Flame with his wings, while they made their way farther into the mesa. Wemmbu couldn't bring himself to care about the consequences. That would be a problem for future Wemmbu. Present one just wanted to get to the base and sleep.
They arrive around sunset, to a guard standing at the entrance of the door. Just like that, he feels his mood drop.
Wemmbu drops on Flame's roof, staring at the pink hair of the guard. Lopezzz was staring at him incredulous, probably at the fact that, he's out of prison. The fox's eyes scan him, flickering to his messed up wings, to his tired expression. His smile isn't smug, he honestly looks like a mess.
"Dude, really? What do you even want?" Wemmbu whined, dramatically, frustration bleeding through his body. Considering for a second just killing the girl — not that he could, it would be too much of a hassle — maybe then they'll be left alone.
Flame reaches for fragger, pointing it directly into the guards neck. His rival is not going to kill her obviously — neither of them want any more problems, so it would be counterproductive. Or at least, Wemmbu doubts his rival wants to spend another three hours on Lettuce office. They were also losing sunlight which was annoying. if they wanted to be ready for tomorrow's preparations, they had to get to work now.
"Bro, leave! Leave us alone" Flame said with forced calmness, frown on his face, as the dreadlocks caught in fire. Lopezzz kept snapping her head back and forth between Flame and him, confusion on her face. Finally, she raised her hands in mock surrender.
"I'm here on Lett-" Loppezzz started speaking. A long sigh interrupter her. Wemmbu smiled at her lazily. She huffed in annoyance as a response, clearly tired of him. The feeling was mutual.
"Blah blah blah. Tell Lettuce to shove it or send it to the mailbox" Wemmbu mocked at her, a cold smile on his lips. Clicking his tongue once, he continued. "Don't ya' have anything else to do Loppezzz? Prisoners to take care of, boring Law paperwork, arrests?"
"Wemmbu-" The guard started, clearly annoyed at him.
"Leave, bro, leave. This is just annoying" Flame interrupted, ignoring the glare he received from the guard. Loppezzz looked a bit intimidated, still, she didn't waver.
"Will you stop interrupting me?" She asked almost exasperated, like she couldn't believe them. If Wemmbu wasn't as tired as he was, he would have been amused by the guard's expression. However, he was utterly exhausted.
The idea of spanning nukes at the Law's base, consequences be damned, was getting more tempting.
"No, leave!" Flame snapped, already losing patience.
Loppezzz scanned the two of them before turning around. "Fine!" She snapped, retreating into the mesa with a frown. Finally, she seemed to realize this was a losing battle.
Wemmbu stared at her, silent, waiting for her to disappear completely before relaxing. He honestly couldn't wait for this day to be over. Every single part of his body ached, a small pressure was forming in his chest, his energy draining quickly. For a second, he just stared into the starry skies, keeping an eye on the constellations. Trying to make sense of his scattered mind, of the last few hours of his life. With a deep breath, he threw himself forward — landing with a soft thud in the sand, in front of the now open door.
The place was a mess, scattered items littering the base, it was obvious Lettuce had been here. Flame was redressing his bandages, smoke puffing from his nose, clearly pissed off. At least the base was warm, that had to count for something. Wemmbu sighed, closing the door behind him. He stands there awkwardly before picking at the mess in front of him. Moving one of the tables in front of the door to barricade it, while he tried to remember the things he needed to do to prepare for the soulbond. Okay, step one done. Now, he needs to make other arrangments, grab something to eat, and find a place to pass out.
"So, can I build a room here now?" Wemmbu asked with a bitter smile. The question mirroring the one he had asked the first time in Flame's base. That time he had been teasing, now? Now he was asking genuinely. Flame turned to look at him, exhausted, before standing up to search the chests for more supplies.
"Fine bro. Just don't build a throne or something." Flame said as he reached to craft another bed. He had a frustrated frown on his face, scanning the chests, searching around for something. Wemmbu was curious, more exhausted than curious. Instead, Wemmbu turned to grab some bread from the chests. As he watched silently as Flame ramsacked his own house, looking for items.
"So, I have bad news bro." Flame started, dread creeping into his voice. Wemmbu turned to look at him with a suffering sigh.
"Let me guess? There are no supplies?" Wemmbu asked, passing a hand through his hair. Of course Lettuce had to take that too. The man was not happy with making them trade their souls, no, of course not. He didn't know if he wanted to scream, break down crying, nuke the Law or kill everyone. A warning beep of the collar alerted him of his stress levels, making him freeze. He had forgotten he had the training collar still on his neck. In all of his despair, in the thrill of the chase, in his exhaustion — he had forgotten about the device. Wemmbu hurried to cover the thing up with his blazer, ashamed of himself. Luckily, Flame had yet to notice it.
"Yeaah, we only have enough for tomorrow's process. Guess we'll have to share room until after the wedding." Flame said, like the admision pained him, before standing up quickly.
Wemmbu was to tired to argue, instead following Flame to the room. It takes a long time for them to settle everything up. Wemmbu takes all of the chests outside of the room while Flame arranges the beds. It's a gruelling process. Especially since the emotional exhaustion is making both of them want to kneel over. They make a makeshift division with a blanket and some wood before calling it a night. Weakly saying goodnight before bolting to their side of the room.
As Wemmbu settle the mattress around him, making a small nest — he can't help but wonder, what has his life turned to? Just yesterday, he was annoying the guards, searching for an escape.
Finally, the exhaustion catches up to him. His mind droozy as he drifts into uneasy slumber, unshed tears in his eyes, as he nuzzles into the pillow.
Wemmbu falls into unconsciousness surrounded by warmth yet terribly cold.