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The Federation had needed people (and not only) for their experiments and for many years - whether they were focused on the mentality, socializing skills or physical strength of those bodies and their poor souls. They were carefully chosen from experts and brought to the island.
A mental test, for example, was the Eggs’ event - pairing the islanders in groups of two to look after an egg-child. How many people were confident in their parenting skills and truly ready to keep the child alive? Well, more than initially expected, as only four kids had died so far.
Social tests happened every day - putting people from different places, who spoke different languages and (mostly) knew nothing about each other on one island, as they had to communicate in a way to simply survive. Some were already making houses and had plans for their stay, others not.
Tests regarding strength were represented by the creatures found all around the island; they were nothing normal, nothing on the island was - everything was made and coded in a way to give the islanders new experiences, challenges and more knowledge. Most of said creatures were deadly, strong monsters - zombies, skeletons, ghosts; others passive but aggressive animals that would kill someone if they weren’t careful.
But the Federation had another goal in mind, as well - making their islanders happy. Every person was unique and different things brought them happiness - who money, who family or friends, who power. When they left the trains, they looked curious, confused and some even.. sad ; some must've still remembered their past even after the brainwashing session - leaving their homes must be heartbreaking. How tragic.
They were going to change those frowns into smiles! The island had so much to offer, as it had been many months since they arrived, and enough interesting cases and history to keep their interest. Though they learned, not everyone needed convincing. Someone was already happy.
Foolish. He came from a now nonexistent land, he was one of the only survivors. Part totem - his skin was made out of pure gold, hair golden-blond; part shark - he could breathe underwater, gills on the sides of his head and neck, fins on his arms, and a shark hood. He was awake and active almost every day, which was a rare sight, but what made him stick out the most was his unusual energy and happiness that he always spread around.
Most of the islanders were pretty neutral in that regard, some were hard to please, but that person was smiling broadly as he left the train, and seemed ready for everything that was waiting for him on the other side, no matter how dangerous and deadly it could and turned out to be.
A mental experiment - Foolish was paired with a Spanish speaking man, Vegetta, as their pasts seemed to have at least one thing in common; they got along and raised their child well. Happy. A social experiment - the totem was well known for his energy and kindness when needed; he signed up for the elections, even though he had no plans of winning, but he did it for fun. Happy. An experiment on his strength - he’s been knocked down by islanders and kids multiple times, even killed; he lost his candidate lives because of carelessness, but he wasn’t mad he was out. Still happy.
His energy was truly contagious - he didn’t fail to put a smile on someone's face, or make them laugh. He was.. already happy. Technically, in that case, the Federation would have to worry about one person less - one would think so. But no, they didn’t like anything about the situation.
And the Federation decided to make an exception in order to continue their plan. If they managed to make Foolish sadder, more normally energized and make him truly fit in, it would be perfect. Which was why the night the totem lost his last presidential life, he was teleported thousands of blocks away, in a secret room, where no one had ever been. He was confused, seemingly not too worried. Of course , though he would soon begin to worry.
The Federation knew everything, watched everyone, followed every step. It was powerful enough to change whatever they want - after all Quesadilla Island was their project and their toy to play with. Something was going to change, they knew, but it was going to be for the better.
——
Bad was tired after the day Foolish lost his second candidate life and he had gone straight to his home, forgetting to check on his friend.
But when Cellbit messaged him via communicator to meet up immediately and by the way he wouldn’t stop messaging him until they saw each other, the demon could feel something was off. Richarlyson was with him, who looked just as stressed as their father. What..
“Foolish is missing!” The other man spat the words, a sharp exhale coming out with them. “I wanted to ask him about his opinion on a room I’m working on, but I couldn’t find him anywhere and messaged him hundreds of times. And I know that man always answers his-”
“Whoa, don’t rush!” Bad said; he could see Cellbit’s clear stress - he was playing with his hands and biting on his nails. It wasn’t a common sight, that was for sure. “I- I mean, I’m sure he’s okay. He could’ve taken the week off, he had a rough couple of days. It’s strange for him to disappear, but it’s not something I wouldn't expect from him. I could try, wait,” He took out his communicator and wrote a couple of sentences directed to Foolish - ‘where are you? ’, ‘cellbit is looking for you ’ and ‘message him or me back soon ’. He hoped the bastard would answer soon.
“But Bad-” Cellbit paused mid sentence, scooping Rycharlison from the floor and holding them close in his embrace. The worry and stress on their face made Bad question if he shouldn’t worry, as well. “There was blood -” His voice was a whisper. “It was golden blood - it was his blood!”
“Oh.” The demon forgot that Cellbit had missed some events. “I suppose I should’ve mentioned it, but forgot to do so - Foolish lost his last presidential life a week or so ago. That’s why the blood is there..” Having all that information on the table, things sounded truly concerning.
“Is that why he’s not around, or responding? He should be, though, I came back after being killed!” Cellbit gulped, but Bad didn’t know exactly why - from remembering his own death or worrying for Foolish’s sake, the demon would never know. Then the latter looked down at his kid in his arms, who was holding a sign saying ‘pomme killed him with a nerf gun ’. “Well, this sounds fun, at least.” He tried to joke, the corner of his mouth turning up.
“We could go visit his tower, maybe he had returned?” The demon released a breath he didn’t know he held. “It’s going to be okay, it has to be, right?” Cellbit slowly nodded at him and let the kid crawl out of his hold; the three of them walked, instead of teleporting, to Foolish’s tower.
It was true Bad hadn’t seen his friend in a week, but that didn’t mean anything usually; he was also pretty busy - working on builds and machines with Dapper, as he had to take care of both them and Pomme. Obviously he had his own responsibilities and Foolish just didn’t happen to be around to check on him. Though the demon has seen the totem deep in the creative process when it came to projects before, so it could be the case.
But as he, Cellbit and Richarlyson went up the stairs, he could feel something in the atmosphere. It wasn't the nature; the cherry trees, the ponds filled with life, the greenery. A picnic long ago made was still sitting untouched, the dirt wall covered in drawings - nothing had changed.
Bad almost got lost in the beauty of the seashore area before he heard Cellbit raising his voice. “FOOLISH! ” Cellbit’s scream, actually, was what got him looking where the latter’s gaze was focused on - the entrance of the tower. He must be there, he idly thought.
The demon didn’t see anyone, but Cellbit must have, guessing from the paleness of his face.
"Richas, stay here." He ruffled his kid’s hair distractedly and then ran towards the tower.
Bad ran after the latter without a second thought - who knew what his crazy head was about to do? As he went up the elevator, the first thing he saw was Cellbit’s tensed body a step ahead of him. His expression screamed confusion and.. fear? Bad looked at the direction he was looking and..
The sight that met him was familiar but in no way pleasant. It was in fact Foolish, as Cellbit had called out, nothing seemed to have changed in the way he looked - at least his body - other than the weariness in his posture, his skin harsh and darker. He didn’t look healthy at all.
“Foolish..” His voice was nothing but a whisper. “Is.. is that you?”
——
The pain of his sudden death, and the tiredness in his bones that followed on his way back home, weren’t enough apparently.
When he came back, there was no one other than a sleeping Leo, blood splattered all around. Even with the mess, his body didn’t care and sighed deeply before passing out next to the rainbow glass protecting his child’s bed. It was convenient to put, he had to thank Cellbit for that.
…
Hours or days later, Foolish finally woke up.
One look around was enough to confirm he wasn’t in his home - the familiar warmth of the sun that usually bathed his room throughout the day and the sight of random storage scattered everywhere was nowhere to be seen. In fact, he couldn’t see anything; he was in a dark room - so dark his eyes couldn’t adjust to it and from there couldn’t see his surroundings. Though, a minute later, the whole room shone without a warning - the totem was surrounded by white walls, white light blinded his eyes. After adjusting to it, he was able to see one singular speaker on the top of the door.
The speaker began ringing for a while, an awful noise coming out, until a voice spoke from the other line. The totem couldn’t remember what was said exactly, but words had continued to spill for hours, days even, and what the message in them was would haunt him for the rest of his life.
He wouldn’t usually care much, so at first he took the words with a roll of his eyes, but the moment his family and friends got involved in a negative context, he began to actually listen. Whoever was behind that speaker must’ve wanted Foolish to feel miserable.. and it worked.
He knew he wasn’t a cruel person - he was more familiar with cruelty than any mortal - but that voice just wouldn’t stop telling him otherwise and the matter-of-factly tone they used.. The totem wasn’t someone to care much of strangers’ opinions, but his heart couldn’t help but ache.
Being a joyful and happy person wasn’t an easy job, but he kept being one - it has always been a part of his nature, he couldn’t help it. Even if no one seeked it, he would be there for when someone did. Though there was the pain hidden behind those smiles, many tell him it made their day.
That was why he kept going.
The realization that he was the cause of someone’s happiness.. It was incomparable. Precious, even.
And it seemed like the Federation wanted to test that part of him, if he could call it.
Why? He couldn’t tell, who knew.
Foolish wasn’t a logical person so when the theories came around, he stood back - not only because no one would listen to him even if he had something to say, but because he’d always ‘supported’ the Federation, in his own way. So he couldn’t understand why they did that to him.
Maybe it wasn’t the organization itself, maybe he was the problem. Maybe his energy was truly unneeded and no one was happy with him and didn’t enjoy his company; maybe he had to be more serious. And maybe, just maybe, they were opening his eyes, changing him for the better.
What was the point of being constantly happy, anyways? Wasn’t happiness used as a way to hide true emotions - hatred, sadness, despair? Strong emotions that not everyone could handle, or feel at all, which was why happiness existed - a free relief, a mask even. Foolish had his daughter, who kept the smile on his face, but before that? Why was he even bothering with others? People were probably good by themselves, his efforts meant nothing.
But then, what was the point of changing? When he came to the island, Foolish saw it as a new start with new opportunities - he would learn, he would create more of his art - and that lifetime would be worth living. No battles, no shed blood or tears of agony, no power to overtake his morals.
He used to never live for someone else - he’d been an egoistic warrior who only sought his own satisfaction; the island changed him, for the better, or so he thought at first. It could be for the worse. How did I become so easily manipulated? He’d asked himself at least once. What had changed his power to have loosened its grip on everything and everyone? He was stomped on, hurt and killed every day; it hurt so much, yet no one seemed to care.
But why would they? If Foolish knew one thing about people, it was that they were more egoistic than he would ever be. It could be their mortality giving them the idea they could do whatever they wanted without consequences since they would die one day, the totem couldn’t know.
He was one of the ‘rest’, he wasn’t special, he wasn’t trying to be. He just wanted to satisfy the others’ needs and wants if possible, nothing more! Then he was told that he was being dramatic and he should calm down. Is that it? Was he causing discomfort and annoyance among them?
It would explain a lot of things.
The totem could argue that was the reason, but when he was repeatedly told the same, it made him wonder what if. He had nothing else to do, anyways, but think over while he was stuck in the blindingly white room. It was either the speaker’s words making his mind numb or his thoughts making his heart sink. He could barely sleep - he wasn’t allowed to - and slowly his tiredness turned into insanity. It hurt to blink and thinking, as exhausting as everything else, was his only option. Moving, even barely, wasn’t an option - it felt like his limbs had turned into stone.
He never thought he would ever reach that point, he thought he’d seen it all. This island was something else.
He was told to change, to get normal, to calm down. They said the problem was his mouth. The totem didn’t understand what they meant at first, hoping for the best even in such a dangerous situation, but as soon as he heard the metal door opening, he regretted his silent curiosity. Two Federation workers with white skin- fur?, white clothes and no faces grabbed him by the arms and pinned him on the wall, their strength surprising and confusing him.
He tried to yell, but no sound came out (he hadn’t talked in days) and he didn’t have energy to move so he watched silently as a third worker came in, holding a.. surgery supplies kid? The horror in Foolish’s eyes must’ve been obvious - it seemed to have encouraged them to start doing things on his face. And, somehow, the totem had little to zero memories of what happened, but when they were done, he knew his face hurt a lot more than before.
The workers left the totem yet again alone only with his thoughts. Before he could get deep into them, the speaker rang once more; it had been a while since it did, a few days? It was hard to calculate time when there were no clocks or sunlight. And he was able to catch only the last words.
“-we hope you enjoy the island! Now with a fresh new start-”
Before he could react, the familiar view of spawn was right before his eyes. The sun had almost set, so he didn’t have to deal with adjusting to its light, at least for a little bit. He was so tired, he couldn’t believe nor knew how he was still awake - he was at a point where both closing and keeping his eyes open hurt. He walked towards home - the surroundings had not changed at all. There was no one around, as well, but that wasn’t such an unusual thing.
A big part of him was glad for that, which was unusual - no matter how exhausted he was, he wouldn’t turn on company. Something truly had changed in him, hadn’t it? It only made sense but it still surprised him - he wasn’t someone to change his mind easily, or let go of old habits. But he didn’t wonder where his friends were and if they were doing alright, if they wondered the same about him. He thought of Leo, though, and his heart sank a little - surely they were alive, surely someone did their tasks. Surely Bad had everything in order, he wouldn’t let a child die from neglect.
As Foolish walked down the stone path before his home, he signed.. or at least tried to, but the movement hurt him, even more than the one earlier, which he had grown numb too with time. Numbness.. what a weird feeling. He looked at his reflection in the water to see why..
The image he saw was little to say horrific - his mouth was sewed in with little metal rings like piercings decorating his painfully red-orangish lips, as if the string wasn’t enough to shut it; it was obviously done unprofessionally. There was blood - dried and fresh from the wound that had just opened from his attempt earlier; dark red and golden. It wasn’t beautiful, not even close, but its ugliness wasn’t the reason for his terror.
When the Federation said the problem was his mouth, they really decided to silence him.
After a few minutes he stood from where he was kneeling, his head a loud mess of thoughts and conclusions, and entered the tower. Right before he stepped on the elevator, he heard someone shouting his name, but he ignored it because even if he stayed, he couldn’t answer.
How was he meant to answer? How was he supposed to live like that, forcibly muted for the rest of his life? He had never seen something like that before on the island, or anywhere, really. Was there even a way to remove the piercings? There were too many questions and no answers.
He stepped into his room, meeting with his own blood everywhere - no one had bothered to clean it. Fair. Leo was not in her bed, which sent a shiver down his spine, but he brushed the bad possibility away and started looking for cleaning supplies in the many random chests. He didn’t find any, but what he found instead was an old mask with Cucurucho’s face on it - its mysterious smile spread wide.. it felt a little too real. He found it randomly a long time ago - he’d never shown it off nor mentioned it to anyone - it wasn’t something that interesting, so he thought.
And in that moment it made sense for him to put it on to hide his face and pretend like he still had his bright smile. The feeling of something on his face felt weird, he barely saw anything. He couldn’t help but prefer the darkness - his eyes hurt from seeing white for who knows how long.
A moment after he did, two people came into the room, as he heard the elevator go off two times.
"Foolish, is that you?” Bad’s voice sounded so distant.
He didn’t move, what could he do? Nothing. He felt a hand turn his body, meeting Cellbit’s eyes.
“Foolish, where have you been? Did something happen?” The latter spoke as he eyed the mask with clear suspicion. “What’s this? Why are you wearing it?” The totem didn’t say anything. “Say something, please.” The true pleading in Cellbit’s voice could be called heartbreaking.
Foolish shook his head, he couldn’t think - everything was a mush. He just wanted them to leave .
“Let him think for a bit.” The demon suggested from behind. It was a sweet offer, letting him take his time answering (even if I’ve thought for long enough), but he didn’t even want to answer - the Federation took him and worked on something that needed fixing and that was it .
“You’re right, okay,” Cellbit signed, tilting his head slightly. “Hello, Foolish, how are you feeling? We missed you, glad to see you’re back from.. wherever you were. I- I don’t know where that was and why you were there, but I won’t ask you now. Could we know what the mast is for?”
The totem shook his head once more. The two in front of him shared confused glances. While he understood they wanted to ‘help’ him, though he didn’t think he needed help, there was simply nothing to be done differently, nothing to fix. I was fixed. The job was done.
“Okay, let me just-” The demon reached for the mask - Foolish’s reactions were slow from exhaustion so he couldn’t stop him. With one movement, he took it off, letting it fall on the floor. Their reactions were expected - Bad’s white eyes widened, just like his own had earlier, and while Cellbit seemed calmer, he wasn’t any less stressed about Foolish’s condition. The latter, though, was sure both had seen and been through a lot worse - they must know.
“Oh my goddess, what happened to your mouth? ” Bad gasped; he reached and tried to touch, but the totem shifted back uncomfortably. He hadn’t grown numb to the pain from a minute ago just yey. He motioned towards the elevator with his head, hoping they would get the message.
“You.. you want us to leave?” Cellbit asked, to which the totem nodded. “Foolish, we’re not going to leave you like this, especially alone.” He exclaimed, sounding scandalized. “We want to help you, please let us do that, though I don’t know this could be fixed..” His frown deepened.
He couldn’t say anything, but he could write, he supposed. The thought popped up in his head as he saw a book and quill on one of the shelves. He slowly took it, writing down. ‘I don’t need your help, it’s okay.’ It was a lie, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be honest like he usually was.
“That’s a lie and we know it.” Cellbit sighed. “Just.. this looks awful, dude, meu Deus..” Cellbit leaned towards Bad, whispering in his ear.
All the while the totem found himself zoning out. Was it him feeling overwhelmed or the exhaustion finally getting to him, he couldn’t tell; his ears were ringing and his eyes were dehydrating, so they started to fill with water from all the emotions and words he would never be able to say. Maybe standing in front of his closest people on the island let the tears out, but he couldn’t do anything else other than stare. He couldn’t hug them from the pain in his bones - he felt like a ghost - and he couldn’t share what those monsters did to him. But it was for the better, he was told.
He felt a hand reach for his cheek - the soft touch of it, whoever it was from, made the totem sob even harder. He hadn’t felt softness from someone’s hand in so long, even before his disappearance - he forgot how much he loved it. Leo’s little hands on his face, them hugging his arm..
His body passed out with a loud thud; his friends’ shouts sounded distant. The last thing he did was smiling at the memory of Leo, though he knew if he tried to smile now it would hurt, it would look twisted - no sharp teeth would decorate his golden lips, no giggles would escape them.
He found it in him to actually fall asleep.
…
When he woke up his head hurt significantly less and his eyes were normally hydrated. He was laying in a comfortable bed, his surroundings familiar. For the dark theme of the walls and interior, he realized he was in Cellbit’s castle. Did they take him all the way here? That was unnecessary.
He looked around - nothing had changed, nothing had been added.. other than the Cucurucho mask and his book on the shelf next to his bed. Really convenient, to say the least, he silently thanked Cellbit for bringing them. Foolish had no clue where the rest of his stuff was, sadly - weapons, backpacks, all the pictures, everything - they were gone when he was teleported at spawn, so he doubted he would ever get them back.
Really made me start anew, huh. He took a deep breath, with his nose.
He stared at the ceiling in silence; on the outside and inside. It felt weird - his mind was usually constantly filled with thoughts - new pallets for builds, Leo’s tasks, gossip to share. But now his thoughts were mostly blank.. he had nothing to think or worry or be excited about.
He barely heard a knock and when he lifted his head, he saw Cellbit’s figure enter - the owner of the castle, the man who he had spent the best time with while building and one of the most truthful people on the island; this man also happened to care for Foolish. He couldn’t understand why.
Cellbit slowly walked to the bed and sat at the far edge; the totem appreciated the space. He was holding something small, a pen or a pencil, which he handed to Foolish and he took it. “For you to write with. I couldn’t find yours after you passed out. Do.. do you feel better?”
Foolish took his book, looking at the previous thing he had written, and added below: ‘Less tired.’
“I’m glad to hear that. You did sleep for like.. two days. I was scared for a moment because I thought you died, but then I remembered.. you didn’t seem to have gotten any sleep in a while, did you?” Cellbit murmured as if for the man next to him not to hear, which he did regardless. He brushed a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry we didn’t realize sooner, we could have tried to save you from wherever you were taken.”
‘Safe? ’ The totem raised an eyebrow.
“Safe, Foolish, look at yourself.. at your mouth! It must hurt like hell!” Cellbit protested, suddenly heating up which the totem didn’t understand what for, though it put him on the edge. He wanted to run away from the castle - from this conversation as a whole, even if he expected it.
‘It does, but I’m used to it, but did you think that maybe I could have deserved it? ’ He saw Cellbit’s disapproving frown in, but he continued to write. ‘I realized that I did, so I can’t be mad.’ He lifted his head and saw that frown in its entirety, though he didn’t understand why he was upset.
Wasn’t this what everyone wanted?
“Okay, firstly, there isn’t a world where you could have done something so brutal to deserve this. Secondly, this shouldn’t have happened in the first place - we could’ve looked for you and you wouldn’t be in this position.” Cellbit tilted his head, eyeing the wound mindlessly.
‘You never know.’ Foolish shrugged.
“We know you, Foolish.” The latter said it so confidently it made him chuckle; it sounded like growling in the back of his throat.
He hesitated on his next words for just a second. ‘You don’t know me, Cellbit.’
Cellbit’s gaze changed - it tensed, there was confusion and sadness, maybe even disappointment. “I thought we did.” He signed again, looking down at the floor. He didn’t seem upset, which Foolish didn’t expect. “I know things have changed, and that’s okay, we all change after all.”
‘I have changed, for the better.’
Cellbit put his chin in his hand. “I wouldn’t say better, you were just fine before. There was nothing that needed changing.” He looked up, placing his other hand on Foolish’s shoulder. Everything was confusing - the Federation told him one thing, Cellbit - another. Who should he trust?
The decision shouldn’t be hard, but it is.
“You’re someone everyone would love to have in their life, we love you.” The latter continued.
Love.. Foolish had almost forgotten what love was. How could someone like him be loved? That’s been a question he’s been asking himself much before Quesadilla Island. Cellbit’s smile was filled with warmth, like he was trying to say ‘you’re enough’, which he wasn’t so sure of.
Foolish wrote: ‘I still don’t think so.’
Cellbit bit his lip. “That’s fair. I don’t know what or who made you think that,though, but know they’re a liar. A bigger lie than Bad.”
The totem couldn’t help it, he chuckled. He doubted there was someone who could lie more than the demon, though the Federation seemed like good competition. He looked out the balcony’s entrance - the sun’s warmth was taking the surroundings in its broad hug; he looked away.
Cellbit stood back up, taking out his hand for the totem to grab, which he did. Standing felt so strange without the soreness in his bones. “Let’s do something, maybe visit someone? Bad, Leo? They’ve been staying in the castle while you slept, but I think they left. They kinda got bored.”
Foolish’s lips turned up at the image, though it stung so he stopped. ‘I’ll visit Leo, I missed her.’
The latter nodded. “Okay. Do you want me to come with you? I would prefer to do so, I don’t..”
The totem tilted his head in thought before writing: ‘I’ll be good, don’t worry about me. Thank you for the offer.’ By habit Foolish tried to open his backpack, but then he remembered.. The process of getting his stuff back would be slow and painful, he knew it, but alas it was fine.
Cellbit’s expression was everything but relaxed. “If you don’t feel well or need company, I’m here.” He said as he led them through the dining room, then right before the main entrance. “I.. I wanted to ask about what happened, would you want another day? I might even be able to-”
Before he could finish, the totem shook his head and was teleporting out of the castle.
…
Ah, the familiar view of home - the dragon tower looking as magnificent as usual. It should be a good feeling, being back home after so long, but, in reality, Foolish felt nothing but emptiness. He wished to see his daughter and make sure she’s alright; he wished that he would feel something.
When he entered, it surprised him that there was no blood and some of his stuff looked a bit more organized than usual. It must’ve been Bad, he thought. He had to thank him too, and he forgot to thank Cellbit.. Though he knew he would see both eventually, in a day or two.
The elevator behind him went off. The totem expected to see Bad, or Cellbit again, but when he turned around he saw his little Leo. They looked just like he last saw them - a wide smile, a placed backwards red cap with pins, some of their clothes were dirty but that was normal.
The moment they saw Foolish, though, their smile faded and instead of running to hug him, they began walking away slowly towards their bed. Their eyes, filled with confusion and horror, were staring at his sewed lips, before she covered them when they reached the bed.
Foolish’s heart dropped. It wasn’t like he didn’t expect such a reaction, but it still hurt to see his own child walk away from him. The last time they looked that terrified of him was when they wanted someone else to adopt her, though that time they were terrified of themselves and what damage they could cause. That day was hard to take in, because the totem knew better than anyone how loving they were, how they wouldn’t hurt anyone unless they were in danger and needed to be protected. Usually he was there to protect Leo, but what if they were scared of him?
Foolish slowly moved forward, crouching to their level and putting a hand on their shoulder. The kid shook a little at the touch, lips trembling. Oh no. Next he took out his book and wrote down: ‘It’s me, Leo. Don’t worry.’ He gave it to them, making the kid uncover her eyes as they read the book.
Leo simply stared at the words, analyzing.
The totem really, really , didn’t want to tell them what happened, but he knew they would ask at some point. Where had he been the past week and a half, why was there glass next to her bed, why didn’t tío Bad try to find him? The last was just an assumption and hopefully a fair one.
‘I can’t explain right now, I just came to see if you’re okay.’ ‘I’m sorry’ was left not written. Leo gave him a nod. Before the totem could react, they hugged him. Their hold on his shirt was tight and he could feel their tears soaking on the cloth, the shaking worsening every second.
Foolish’s heart ached so hard like it never had before. He knew he wasn’t the best parent, even if he tried his best - empathy also wasn’t his best thing - but in that moment he felt like the worst. He’d abandoned his child, not leaving a note or anything- it wasn’t my fault- and now he had to suffer the heartbreaking consequences. Maybe he really was a bad father, maybe everyone was right to look after Leo even if he did - if so, it would be fair.
After a few minutes of silent crying and sniffling, Leo stood up, drying their tears with her sleeve; they then reached for Foolish’s face, wiping out his own tears. He hadn’t realized he’d been crying. He couldn’t help but find it funny - how much water did he have left after everything?
He didn’t know, but something he knew for sure was that nothing was going to be the same.
The two spent the rest of the day walking around, with Leo showing him the new stuff they had done, meanwhile doing their tasks for the day; he was right, Bad had been doing them in his absence. Something in his heart felt hollow - almost like twisting - but he ignored the feeling.
At the end he left Leo to sleep, sitting at the edge of their bed, watching their expression slowly calm in their sleep. While that, he heard his communicator buzzing in the dark - it was a message from Bad, asking if the totem could go to his base. Foolish wasn’t tired, he could go, but his brain was exhausted enough - he wanted to stop thinking about last week and he was 100% sure the demon wanted to talk with him about.. that.
Just thinking about it made him sick, imagine discussing it. Those cruel words from the speaker were going to haunt him until he forgot this life, to poke him every single day, to make him alert and make him overthink more often than not. Deep inside he had accepted his fate, even if the bigger part of him refused to. Because, after all, now he had to bring a book and a pen everywhere to be able to communicate, he had to cover his bloody and fleshy thing of a mouth with a mask so he wouldn’t disturb his friends and, probably most importantly - he couldn’t eat anymore.
The fact he would probably die of starvation sent shivers down his spine. Though, usually, dying should remove the piercings, he doubted the Federation wouldn’t make it so they stayed with him forever, so he didn’t have hopes - only regrets and many awful things to accept.
His eyes slowly closed, sleep finally getting to him, the last sight before him being Leo. The dark void in his mind called him, gave him an invitation that could last forever. Foolish swore he heard the voice from the speaker, but the only thing he could do was freeze, lying on the floor.
He woke up in cold sweat, heartbeat faster than ever. A nightmare, he thought. He looked over to Leo’s bed - they weren’t there. The panic took over him once more, probably faster than it should, because one look over to the windows and he realized the sun was up - it was noon.
It was fine, Leo was fine. He rubbed his eyes. It wasn’t going to be the same, but it was for the better.