Chapter Text
[ Wemmbu ]
Wemmbu stared at Mane. There was something about seeing Mane for the first time in years, something old, and rotting, and hurting that Wemmbu wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with. Something he wasn't even sure he wanted to remember. Wemmbu isn't sure what he's supposed to do with Mane. Because he didn't look the same as he did in Wemmbu's memories. He was almost taller, or maybe he had longer locs, or maybe—
Maybe it didn't matter. Either way it hurt.
Because Mane had left.
Left Flame. Left Wemmbu. Left everything behind and Wemmbu just couldn't understand why.
But according to Flame, that's why Mane was here— to explain.
And sure, Wemmbu didn't trust Mane, but he did trust Flame. Funny how things turn out. There used to be a time where Mane was Wemmbu's entire world— a time where Wemmbu wanted to simulatenously be with Mane and be like Mane.
What who said that.
Wind sure is loud today.
Anyways, now that Mello's done breaking the fourth wall.
"Wemm, hey," Mane's voice is scratchy, and makes Wemmbu want to cry at the familarity of it, there's something about the way his blonde locs are pulled back into a ponytail, and his blindfold is covering only one eye, showing off the other purple one, like it was a light in the dark night. This was simultaneously super familiar and super scarily different. Mane was taller, stronger, and somehow looked like he could split wemmbu in half still.
Time to wrap it up.
"Mane," Wemmbu's voice comes out steady, thankfully, for now at least. Wemmbu isn't sure how normal he can be about this conversation. He holds his head high, like if he thinks hard enough, it'll make the discomfort go away, like he'll make it all go away, because frankly Wemmbu almost didnt wanna have this conversation, "what— what are you doing here? Why did you come back?" Wemmbu hates the way it wavered at the end, made him feel weak.
And he's back at the fucking treehouse.
"Can we… can we talk, chungie?" And Wemmbu's heart breaks open at those words, like the little jab was enough to make him cry. because Mane was here. Mane was real. Mane had come home— not to Wemmbu, not to Flame, but for some gods forsaken reason he couldn't wrap his head around.
And Wemmbu was wondering how the hell he got here.
"Sure, I guess," Wemmbu didn't take a step closer to Mane, keeping his distance, Gambit heavy on his back, like if he needed to grab it, he could. Mane must have been training too, but Wemmbu wasn't the same chungie he was when Mane left anymore, he was different— he was, "whaddya wanna talk about, Mane?"
"I was gone. For a long time and I— I wanted to explain why. Why I left. Why I said the things I did. I'm hoping you'll hear me out. It makes sense why Flame did, he's my brother. But you don't… have to. But I'm still hoping you will."
"You're right," Wemmbu's voice shakes, crossing his arms like if he tried hard enough the sinking feeling in his gut would go away, "I'm— Mane, fuck, I'm pissed at you. You left with no warning or reason and you come back and interrupt Flame's courtship with me and—" Wemmbu shakes his heads, eyes watering, hands shaking, and he started to hate himself— because why was he still a mess around Mane? "you don't get to just come back and act like nothing happpened. like you didn't leave."
Mane pauses, as if he feels something like guilt.
Wemmbu pauses.
Blinks.
Waits.
Before sobbing, and then admitting something he didn't know he was feeling, that he didn't know he could feel, "You weren't supposed to come back."
A few hours later, Wemmbu ends up with his head on Mane's shoulder. They're sitting out in a field in silence. Wemmbu doesn't remember the last time he was quiet, but Mane always did have a special effect over Wemmbu. Wemmbu was quiet, listening to Mane's adventures like he was 19 again and confused about what he was doing on the server while he was gone.
And apparently that he had left to keep Zam off of Wemmbu's trail. Wemmbu hadn't believed him, but part of Wemmbu knows, if he had gone with him, then maybe everything that had happened with Flame… maybe he wouldn't have been with Flame.
Maybe he'd be with…
No.
"So," Mane's voice is neutral, like he's fighting back something neither of them had ever talked about, "tell me about Flame. How'd that happen?"
Wemmbu shrugs from where he's leaning against Mane, keeping his head there, trying to remember evverything that had happened, "he hunted me down after you left, thought I knew something. We started dancing around each other— sparring, fighting. Then he crossed a line," voice even, "so I faked my death. Went on a whole side quest— doing whatever I wanted. Egg was trapped in the END, with Minute, so I didn't worry much about him, and I just… did my thing. Flame lost his shit. Like he spent months looking for me. And i lowkey just ragebaited for MONTHS. Like would just kinda appear wherever he was and like hang out. so why he was in mourning, i was thirsting. actual peak existence," wemmbu snorts, nodding sagely, "then eventually, he like figured out i was alive, cause i spread rumors. then, our reunion was dramatic and shit. now we're together. and apparently getting married soon."
"That's amazing, Wem," Mane's voice is softer than Wemmbu ever gave him credit for, something almost like want there, but Wemmbu's sure he's imagining it, "i'm glad you're happy."
"Yeah?" Wemmbu asks, softly maybe, maybe a little hopeful, like there was a missing part of his heart he hadn't realized he needed this.
lLike he didn't know he still wanted Mane.
And maybe there was a part of Wemmbu who would always want Mane, and maybe that was okay.
But even if Wemmbu wanted Mane, he needed Flame, and sometimes need outweight want.
And as stupid as it sounds, wemmbu needed and wanted Flame— and he needed Flame because Flame didn't expect him to be better, Flame didn't want better— he wanted Wemmbu.
And sometimes thats what love looked like.
Love looked like violence and blood. love looked like slow mornings and coffee. love looked like flamefrags.
Wemmbu smiles as he sees Flame. Mane is trailing behind Wemmbu. Wemmbu runs into Flame's arms. Flame picks Wemmbu up and spins him, leaving Wemmbu a giggling, giddy mess. all of a sudden, all Wemmbu can focus on is Flame. on Flame's pretty locs, his dark skin, his shit-eating smile, his pretty lips— Flame, Flame, Flame is all that goes through his head.
Even as Mane walks away.