Archive of Our Own ^beta

Wemmbu found himself walking the same path again.

He didn't plan it—or maybe he did, subconsciously. His feet just seemed to know where to go, carrying him through the forest as the sun set and darkness crept in. The wounds from last time had healed mostly, leaving only faint scars and the occasional ache when he moved wrong.

He'd found himself thinking about that night by the pond more than he cared to admit. About Squiddo's gentle hands patching his wounds, their patient presence as he'd fallen apart. About the way they'd made him feel less alone for the first time in what felt like forever.

He'd caught himself looking for them around spawn a few times. Never approaching, just... looking. Making sure they were real. That he hadn't imagined the whole thing in some pain-induced haze.

But every time he'd spotted those distinctive orange and black patterns, that flutter of butterfly wings, something in his chest had settled.

He still didn't understand why trusting her came so easily. Still didn't understand that pull of familiarity. But he'd stopped questioning it as much. Sometimes things just were what they were.

The forest path was familiar now in the growing darkness. He knew which roots to avoid, which turn led to the clearing. His body remembered even if he'd only walked it once before.

The clearing appeared through the trees like an old friend, the pond's surface reflecting the early evening sky. Purples and oranges still clung to the horizon, not yet surrendered to night. It was beautiful in a different way than last time, less melancholy and more... peaceful.

Wemmbu sat at the same spot by the water's edge, letting his legs dangle. The familiarity was comforting. He'd thought about this place a lot over the past days. Returned to it in his mind when things got difficult, when the weight of everything threatened to drag him down again.

It had become a kind of anchor. A reminder that he'd survived that night. That someone had cared.

He hadn't seen Squiddo since then, despite his searching glances. Part of him wondered if she'd been avoiding him—if that night had been too much, too intense, too revealing. If they'd decided he was too broken to bother with after all.

The thought made his stomach twist uncomfortably.

But another part of him—the part that remembered the genuine warmth in their eyes, the sincere offer to be there next time—that part insisted Squiddo wasn't like that. That she'd meant what they said.

He wanted to believe that part.

The water was perfectly still tonight, a mirror of the transforming sky. Wemmbu watched the colors shift and blend, watched the first stars begin to emerge. Peaceful. Quiet.

Alone, but not in the crushing way it had been before. Just... solitary. There was a difference.

The sound of voices drifted through the trees behind him, shattering the silence.

"—don't see why we have to come out here. I was working on something important—"

"Because fresh air is good for you! And the pond is really pretty at sunset."

"I've seen ponds before, Squiddo."

Wemmbu tensed immediately, his entire body going rigid. He recognized that voice.

4CVIT.

The slime hybrid who'd built that redstone machine—the one Wemmbu had... well. "Convinced" to let him use it.

Threatened was such an ugly word. He preferred "aggressively negotiated." Much more professional sounding.

His claws extended involuntarily, sharp tips catching the fading light. Great. Just great. He'd come here for peace, and instead he was about to deal with the one person on this server who had legitimate reason to hate him.

The voices grew closer, and Wemmbu turned to see two figures emerging from the tree line. Squiddo's distinctive orange and black patterns caught the fading light, her antennae perked up with interest as she talked. Beside them walked 4CVIT, his blue translucent skin almost glowing in the dim light, looking distinctly uncomfortable about being dragged away from whatever project he'd been working on.

Then 4C's eyes landed on Wemmbu, and his entire body went rigid. His form rippled once, that telltale sign of slime hybrid agitation.

"Oh," Squiddo said, her face brightening with genuine delight. "Wemmbu! I didn't know you'd be here."

"What is he doing here?" 4C's voice was tight, defensive. His translucent blue form shifted more noticeably now, like water disturbed by a stone.

Wemmbu stood up, immediately slipping into his usual persona—but with more energy this time, more deflection. He grinned, spreading his arms wide. “I could ask you the same thing. This is my spot."

"Your spot?" 4C's hands clenched at his sides, his form compressing slightly. "You don't own the entire server, Wemmbu. Despite what you seem to think."

"I mean, I could own it. Have you seen my power?" Wemmbu's claws extended fully now—just enough to catch the light. "Besides, you practically gave me a VIP pass to your redstone machine. That's basically friendship, right?"

4C's entire form flushed a deeper blue—anger, Wemmbu recognized. "You threatened to kill me!"

"Threatened is such a strong word. I prefer 'enthusiastically persuaded.'" Wemmbu examined his claws casually. "And hey, I didn't actually kill you, so that's points in my favor. Growth. Character development. I'm basically a hero."

"You are literally the opposite of a hero!"

"See, I hear you saying that, but what I'm choosing to hear is 'Wemmbu, you're so cool and intimidating.' Really warms my heart."

"I said nothing even close to that!"

"Potato, tomato."

"That's not even the right saying!"

"Isn't it though?"

"No!"

"Okay!" Squiddo stepped between them quickly, her wings spreading slightly—not threateningly, just enough to physically separate the two. "How about we all just... take a breath?"

"I don't need to take a breath. I need him to leave," 4C said, but his voice had lost some of its edge. More tired than angry now. Like he was exhausted just from being in Wemmbu's presence.

Wemmbu felt a strange pang at that—something uncomfortable in his chest that he immediately tried to joke away. "Wow, rude. And here I was about to invite you to my birthday party.“ 

Wemmbu paused, before mockingly rubbing his chin. “Or maybe Squiddo would help me invite you to my birthday party. We could set a trap up in the party for you or something.” 

4C's form rippled with frustration. "Squiddo dragged me out here, and now I have to deal with you—"

"My presence is a gift, actually. You should be thanking me. This is enrichment for you. Like when you give animals toys at the zoo."

"Did you just compare me to a zoo animal?!"

"I mean, you are blue and squishy. Very exotic. Ten out of ten would observe behind glass."

Something flickered in Wemmbu's chest as he looked at 4C—something strange and deeply familiar. Like déjà vu, but stronger. More insistent.

He'd felt it with Squiddo too, but this was different. This felt like... authority?

Which was completely ridiculous. They barely knew each other. Had only interacted that one time, when Wemmbu had needed the redstone machine and taken the fastest route to getting access.

But the feeling persisted, strong and inexplicable and right in a way that made no logical sense.

Wemmbu shook his head, trying to clear it. “Anyways, what would you do to anyways? You’re basically a quickdrop.” 

"I'm not—that's not—you're impossible!"

Squiddo sighed, but there was something patient in her expression. Understanding. Like she'd expected this exact scenario. "You know what? Both of you, sit down."

"Oh, but I was just getting started with my stand-up routine—" Wemmbu started.

"Sit. Down." Squiddo's voice was still gentle, but there was steel underneath it now. Authority of their own kind—not commanding, but firm. "Please."

Something about the way she said it made Wemmbu's protests die in his throat. That same inexplicable trust from before, the sense that Squiddo wouldn't steer him wrong. That they knew what they were doing even when he didn't.

He sat back down at the pond's edge, albeit reluctantly. "Fine, fine.”

4C looked like he wanted to argue. His mouth opened, closed, opened again. He looked at Squiddo with something pleading in his expression.

But after a moment of Squiddo staring at him with those eyes, he sighed heavily and sat down too—notably on the opposite side of Squiddo, putting them squarely between him and Wemmbu like a buffer.

His form was still rippling with agitation, but at least he was sitting.

"There," Squiddo said, settling down in the middle with clear satisfaction. "Isn't this better?"

"No," both Wemmbu and 4C said simultaneously, then glared at each other for having the audacity to agree on something.

"Jinx, you owe me a soda," Wemmbu said immediately. "That's the rule. I don't make the rules.”

"That's not how jinx works!"

"Isn't it? Because I'm pretty sure it is. Squiddo, back me up here."

Squiddo laughed softly, the sound warm and genuine. "Just... look at the pond. Watch the moonlight."

"The moon isn't even up yet," 4C muttered, crossing his arms. His form had compressed slightly, making him look smaller. 

"Then watch the sunset. Look at the water. Both of you. That's all I'm asking." Squiddo's voice was gentle but firm. "No more fighting. No more jokes.”

Wemmbu opened his mouth to protest—how dare she call him out like that—but Squiddo gave him a look. That knowing look that said 'I see exactly what you're doing.'

He closed his mouth and looked at the water instead.

The clearing fell into an awkward silence. Wemmbu stared determinedly at the horizon. He could feel the slime hybrid's tension even from here, separated by Squiddo's calm form. Could see the way his translucent body kept shifting slightly with agitation in his peripheral vision.

The sky continued its slow transformation from orange to purple to deep blue. Stars began to emerge, one by one, pinpricks of light against the darkening canvas. The moon crept over the treeline—a pale crescent tonight instead of the full moon from before.

Despite himself, Wemmbu felt some of his need to talk draining away. There was something about this place, about the quiet water and the emerging stars. Something that made it hard to hide behind humor. The clearing had a kind of magic to it—not literal magic, but the kind that came from peace. From stillness. From honesty.

Or maybe it was Squiddo's presence. The way she sat calmly between two people who clearly wanted nothing to do with each other, completely unbothered by the tension. Like they genuinely believed this would work out somehow.

Minutes passed. The silence stretched. Wemmbu's claws slowly retracted fully, though he kept his hands ready. His usual smirk faded into something more neutral. More real.

4C's form gradually stopped rippling quite so much. Still tense, still defensive, but not actively hostile. Just... existing.

"Why did you bring him here?" 4C asked quietly after a while, directing the question at Squiddo. His voice was softer now, less accusatory. More genuinely curious.

"I didn't know Wemmbu would be here," Squiddo replied honestly, her antennae twitching slightly. "But I think maybe this is good. You both need to talk."

"We have nothing to talk about," Wemmbu said, but his voice lacked its usual bravado. 

"We really don't," 4C agreed, his form compressing even more.

"See? We agree on something. Should we get matching bracelets?"

"Please stop talking."

Squiddo was quiet for a moment, watching the water. The reflection of stars had begun to appear on the surface, tiny points of light dancing with each small ripple.

"You know," she said eventually, her voice thoughtful, "I've been having the strangest feeling lately. Like I've known both of you before. Not in this world, but... somewhere else."

Wemmbu's head snapped toward them, his joke about past lives dying before he could voice it. "You feel it too?"

4C shifted uncomfortably, his form rippling once. "Feel what?"

"That weird... familiarity," Squiddo continued, their gaze distant. Like they were looking at something beyond the pond, beyond this moment. "Like when I look at you both, something in me recognizes you. Knows you. Even though we just met. Even though logically, that makes no sense."

Her antennae twitched again, more pronounced this time. "It's been driving me a little crazy, actually. Trying to figure out why you both feel like... like people I should know. People I do know, but can't remember."

4C was very quiet. Too quiet. His form had gone completely still—which for a slime hybrid meant something significant. They were always in motion, always shifting. Stillness meant focus. Or fear.

"You feel it," Squiddo said, turning to look at him. Not a question.

"...Maybe," 4C admitted reluctantly, his voice barely above a whisper.

He paused, his form rippling with what might have been embarrassment. "I actively dislike Wemmbu, actually. He threatened me. But there's still this... pull.”

Wemmbu felt his breath catch. Because 4C had just described exactly what he'd been feeling—except from the other side. Like opposite ends of the same thread, pulled taut between them.

"The feeling's mutual," Wemmbu said, but his usual deflection failed him. "The dislike part, I mean. But also... yeah. The other thing."

He hesitated, unused to this kind of honesty. But something about this moment made him continue, even as he tried to lighten it. "When I look at you, I feel like we have this... I don't know, boss employee thing? Which sounds way less fun when I say it out loud.”

"It is arrogant," 4C muttered, but there was less bite to it than before.

"Hey, arrogance is my brand. Don't take that away from me. It's all I have."

"That's... really sad, actually."

"I know, right? Tragic backstory. Very cinematic."

"Boss and employee," Squiddo said softly. "That's what it sounds like. A working relationship.”

Wemmbu's chest felt tight. "Maybe I was a terrible boss. Like, 'worst boss of the year' award.”

"Not in this world," Squiddo agreed, ignoring his deflection. "But what if we did in another one?"

4C made a sound that might have been a laugh or a scoff. "You're saying we knew each other in some alternate universe? That's insane."

"Is it?" Squiddo looked at him, then at Wemmbu, her expression serious. "Is it really? Because I look at you, Wemmbu, and I feel like I should trust you. Even after hearing how you threatened 4C. Even knowing I probably shouldn't.”

Wemmbu felt something twist painfully in his chest. That shouldn't make sense. Why would Squiddo trust him? Why would anyone?

Unless...

She turned to 4C, her voice gentling. "And I look at you, and I feel like I should make sure you're okay. Like we've been through something together,” Squiddo's antennae drooped slightly. "I know it sounds crazy. But that's what I feel."

The water reflected the moon now, its pale light dancing across the surface in silver ribbons. The clearing was fully dark except for that silvery glow and the emerging stars.

Wemmbu stared at Squiddo, then at 4C. The slime hybrid looked troubled, his translucent form shifting with barely contained emotion.

"What are you saying?" 4C asked quietly.

"I'm saying maybe we knew each other before. Maybe we were close. Maybe we worked together, like Wemmbu said. A team." Squiddo's voice grew quieter, more uncertain. "Working on something important. Something complex."

"Like what?" Wemmbu asked, his voice rough. "What would we even work on together? Besides me being terrible and you guys putting up with it?"

"I don't know. But when I think about it, I get flashes of... redstone? Complex mechanisms. Something big. Something that required all of us." Squiddo's antennae twitched. "An orbital strike cannon, maybe? That feels... familiar. Like a memory that's not quite mine."

Wemmbu went completely still. "That's... specific."

"Does it mean something to you?” 

“It’s one of my signature weapons.” Wemmbu said. “You’ve probably heard all over the server that I bombed a lot of place.” 

Squiddo was silent, before saying, “And maybe..." Squiddo's voice grew even quieter. "Maybe something happened. Maybe it didn't end well."

"What kind of something?" Wemmbu asked, even though part of him didn't want to know.

"I don't know. But there's this feeling of... betrayal? Like trust was broken somehow." Squiddo looked between them.

He looked at Squiddo—really looked at her. And underneath that pull of trust and familiarity, there was something else. Something that felt like guilt.

Like he'd done something wrong.

"If we did know each other before," 4C said slowly, his voice careful, "and you were my boss... I don't think it went well."

Wemmbu felt something twist in his gut. "What makes you say that?"

"Because when I look at you, underneath everything else, there's this sense of... disappointment? Like you let me down somehow.“ 

Squiddo nodded slowly, her expression pained. "I feel it too.“

Then she looked directly at Wemmbu, and her voice was gentle but firm. "And I feel... angry? No, not angry. Hurt. Like someone promised me something and didn't deliver. Like I was lied to."

Wemmbu's breath caught in his throat.

Payment. The word echoed in his mind, unbidden. Promised payment.

"I feel like I worked for you," Squiddo continued softly, her antennae drooping. "Worked hard on something important. And then... I didn't get what I was promised. And that betrayal made me..."

"Made you what?" Wemmbu's voice was barely a whisper.

"Made me leave. Made me betray you back." Squiddo's eyes were bright with emotion. "Like if you could break your promise, I could break mine. And then everything fell apart."

The silence that fell was deafening. Heavy with things unsaid, memories that didn't exist but somehow still hurt.

Wemmbu shook his head. "But if I lied to you about payment—if I broke that promise—that's not just a mistake. That's deliberate. That's me being a terrible person."

"Maybe. Or maybe there was a reason. Maybe circumstances changed. Maybe you were scared or desperate or—" Squiddo paused. "It doesn't matter. What matters is that we're here now. And you have a choice about who you want to be this time."

Squiddo's hand found his shoulder, that familiar gentle pressure. "But I don't think you will. Because you're already different. You came back to this pond. You're trying to understand. You're sitting here with us instead of running away."

"I'm sitting here because you told me to," Wemmbu muttered, but his voice lacked conviction.

Wemmbu looked at 4C again. The slime hybrid was watching him with an expression that was hard to read—not quite forgiveness, but maybe... openness? Like he was willing to consider that Wemmbu might be more than just a threat.

They fell silent again, but it was different this time. Less heavy. Like something had shifted, released. Not fixed—not healed. But acknowledged.

Wemmbu watched the moonlight on the water, the way it rippled and shifted with even the smallest breeze. He thought about Squiddo's betrayal in another life—the way she must have felt, working hard on that orbital strike cannon, expecting payment, and then receiving nothing. The way that betrayal had pushed her to betray him in turn.

He understood it. How could he not? It made perfect sense.

He'd broken trust first. Whatever happened after was just consequence.

"I think I understand it now," Squiddo said quietly, breaking the peaceful silence. "Why we found each other again. Why the universe or fate or whatever brought us back together."

"Why?" 4C asked.

"Because we get another chance. To do it right this time. To be what we were supposed to be before things went wrong." Squiddo's voice was soft but certain.

Wemmbu wanted to dismiss it as overly optimistic. But sitting here, between Squiddo's unwavering faith and 4C's cautious acceptance, he felt something he hadn't felt in a long time.

Hope.