Work Text:
Caelus has already kind of shut his brain off by the time Blade jumps in the maw of Voracity. The walk down to the swirling purplish-blue whirlpool had made him entirely uncomfortable, the atmosphere way too serious for his usual antics. He had no real way to break the tension between Silver Wolf and Blade, not without completely undermining the seriousness of the situation in a way that would probably be entirely inappropriate given the circumstance.
The conversation between the two Stellaron Hunters is not loud, but given the secrecy and intentional mysteriousness of both Silver Wolf and Blade in the past, it’s a bit jarring for them to have half their feelings on display like this.
He keeps close to Graphia, purely due to her resemblance of Himeko in both appearance and mannerisms, to let the pair in front of them say oddly heart-warming goodbyes. At least, Caleus tries to. Tries to be invisible and quiet in a way that feels unnatural to him, even though every few seconds he catches a forlorn, expectant glance from Silver Wolf, almost like she wants something from him that he really has no idea to give.
It was ignored, of course, because he really can’t handle a non-sarcastic Silver Wolf. And when she urges Blade to say his piece to Caelus, of all people, he swallows down confusion and lets a dying man look him in the eye and speak cryptic mumbo-jumbo, nodding his head like he understands all the embellished poetry spewing out of his mouth.
He’s respectful. He thinks.
Because Blade looks at him very thoroughly. It’s not with the same expectation that Silver Wolf throws his way, but with something similar that Kafka regards him with.
An odd knowing. Softness and something not entirely patronizing, but something that errs on the side of a fostering nature, a torch-passing. A simple glance at a frowning, trying-not-to-cry Silver Wolf like he trusts Caelus deeply.
(Something deep, deep inside Caelus forces him to nod back. Not because Blade is a dying man and it’s courtesy to respect and obey his last wishes, but because there’s a bone-depth trust in this man. A pull of obligation deeper than most of what he’s felt before, to promise to look after the young girl between them the same way that Blade would. He swallows and nods, and pointedly ignores the way Blade’s eyes grow a fraction more gentle towards him.)
He falls back into a cloud-filled pit, and Caelus ignores the way that Silver Wolf hitches her breath and pulls her lip between her teeth. She takes a half-step back, almost like she can;t bear to turn away. There’s a slight head-toss, an almost missable glance back towards him, gauging his reaction, before Silver Wolf slides a tiny bit closer to him, breath unsettled.
Beside him is still Graphia, cold but warm, watching the pair with careful, blank eyes. Murmurs something about leaving and Asat Pramad and a Lord Ravager and whatever other Planarcadia-specific vernacular that Caelus has to know. Another big-bad that needs handling. Another planet that needs help from a world-ending threat.
It’s hard to put his heart fully in it, especially so soon after watching Amphoreous fragment and shatter, carrying a book with the hopes of Cyrene and Phainon and Tribbie and all the others he made a promise to. Wounds that are too raw, too new, that he’s unwilling to let himself be invested again less he hurts again. Graphia makes it easier.
She wears Himeko’s face comfortably. As an ancestor to Himeko, maybe it’s her original face to begin with, but every time Caelus looks at her, he only sees his familiar Nameless. As Silver Wolf inches towards him, he slides to Graphia’s side, just like he would Himeko. The only difference is that he doesn’t loop his arm around hers, thunk his head against her shoulder and complain loudly, the way he would do with his Himeko.
(Himeko, who welcomed him to the express with open arms and a warm hug. Bearing promises of safety and guidance and terrible, awful coffee. He frowns again, deep-seated and unbudging this time. Because the past two worlds have split up the Astral Express. He knows Dan Heng is unsettled by the constant alienment, but Caelus finds himself restless as well. Worrying about March 7th, Welt Yang, Sunday. Himeko, because her homeworld is falling apart and the last time he met up with her, he could see cracks rising to the surface of her calm face.)
Graphia doesn’t seem to mind his random need for closeness, nor does she spare too much concern when Silver Wolf stands all too close.
“Do you intend to wait for him?” She says with amusement. With a voice all too like Himeko’s, careful not to be cruel with just the slightest tinge of melancholy. Of a voice that speaks of much familiarity with loss.
Still, Silver Wolf cuts her eyes and shakes off her grief. “No.” She replies dryly. Instead she turns to Caelus and looks at him funny. Again, with desperate expectations and concealing it with her typical cynical humour. “I respect his decision. No use waiting to see if he’ll come back up or die in there.”
Though she aims for nonchalance, her voice breaks and hitches and she folds into herself, almost like she can’t believe the words that she’s saying. Deep inside Caelus, he feels the urge to comfort her, but he’s not entirely sure how to do it. The way she speaks to him and about him, with intimate familiarity, is unsettling when all he knows about her is that she’s a Stellaron Hunter with Firefly. (Another girl he tries not to think too hard about.)
Graphia is about to respond when an intruder butts into their conversation.
Like all fights, they are able to subdue and cleanse an affected Graphia with slight effort. Because things always work out for them, Blade jumps out of the Vortex wearing brand new clothes and helps them defeat Asat’s latest attempt at hindering them.
At his immediate appearance, Silver Wolf looks 100% more comfortable in her skin. Blade takes over the entire battle, and is careful cutting away Asat’s influences from Graphia’s body.
They reunite, and maybe Caelus should be more inquisitive about the knowing looks thrown his way from the pair.
He’s, instead, entirely focused on how disheveled and defeated Graphia looks, how Himeko would never, never wear the expression.
(She would come up next to him, reach up and stroke his hair and tell him he did his best. Then she and Welt would pull some magic-hat track out of thin air and save the day, and Caelus would end the night with a hot meal surrounded by the people who had been with him since he first woke up.)
Still, he sinks to his knees by her side. Asks her twice if she’s okay and accepting whatever answer she gives. Too distracted by the familiar face and foreign actions, how his hands itch to grasp her shoulders and give her the grandest hug he can muster.
Then she and Silver Wolf speak about multiple bodies and how Asat Pramad can be in multiple places at once. And his heart sinks.
Because he has Blade and Silver Wolf and March has Mr. Ashveil and Dan Heng has Mr. Yang. Himeko is by herself, guarding Pom Pom and the Express, while this story that revolves around her unravels around her as well.
There's a thick lump in his throat, and maybe he should press Graphia for more answers. But she looks at him with Himeko’s face and Himeko’s body and Himeko’s movements and he can’t get past how she’s alone right now. While Planarcadia is under attack from seemingly all angles.
He stumbles to his feet then, won’t let anyone touch him.
(Himeko is the closest thing to a mother he has. She’s guiding and intelligent and caring. Ever so patient with him and looks at him like she’s just so, so proud. That she and Welt are the only thing he can rely on 100% of the time, that they stand like pillars behind him, and how they don’t mind that he likes to cling to them and sleep next to them in the wake of Amphoreous. How he’s grown tired of hearing story after story about brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers and cousins, and how he has none. How the Astral Express is the only family he can remember.)
(And they left her alone, and his hands shake and there’s tension building in his knees with the urge to run to her, to defend the only parent he has ever known.)
“”We have to-” His words die out as he stumbles again, not quite sure where he’s going. He hasn’t seen Dan Heng and March 7th in too long. Why was everyone so eager to split up when they just got back together again?
Blade and Graphia look at him, while Silver Wolf moves as if to catch him. Still wary of touch, he shies back.
“Himeko needs us. We have to find my friends.” He urges instead. The group nods in agreement. But there’s no urgency, and that is frustrating him to no end. He feels like he’s the only one with something at stake here, and the guilt of that thought keeps him from protesting more.
Instead, he lets them plan Graphia’s safe exit, nodding along when they turn to him for input. Trying hard not to tap his foot and biting back a sigh of relief when they finally start moving.
He steps through another stupid warp portal and damn near sprints through the platforms, uncaring of the destruction falling down around him. He can feel how close he is to the Express. It’s like its engine thrums in his heart, like there’s a beacon that will always shine towards home just for him.
There’s a short battle with a few suffering citizens that he feels obliged to take care of. Sparxie joins, because of course she does. Ashveil is behind as well. Most importantly, March 7th is with them.
Unharmed (he sends a thank you to Evernight) and bright as she always is. He pulls her aside carefully and quickly spits out how Himeko is in danger and that they need to find her or Asat Pramad before it’s too late.
March nods gravely, and Caelus could almost weep at finding someone who can see how serious this is. He turns to run again, this time with more confidence with a fellow Trailblazer at his side. She stops him, though, with a careful grip around his wrist to let the others walk a few paces forward.
He turns to her with a question on the tip of tongue that dies when she wraps her arm around his chest with a light sigh. Almost immediately, he tears up and melts into her. He bonelessly falls into her body and he buries his face in her pink hair. She struggles with the added weight, but doesn’t seem quite keen on letting him go, instead squeezing tighter.
“It’s okay, Caelus.” She soothes. He shakes his head, and his tears make the strands of her fragrant hair stick to his cheeks. “We’ll find her and Dan Heng and the rest. When have we ever left anyone behind?”
He nods, drawing away ruefully. There’s a big smile plastered to her face, and she reaches up and pinches his cheek. “Let’s not keep them waiting!”
She only lets go of his hand when the others look back to see what’s taking them so long.
/
They reach the subway station and meet a flustered Sunday. He sprints over to them, and Caelus heart leaps into his throat at the sight of him. His clothes are frazzled and unkempt, but again, he’s whole and uninjured, muttering frantically about being on civilian duty and how the Express is-
Caelus jolts at March’s shrill voice when she repeats after Sunday that, yes, the Astral Express is currently stuck under rubble.
PomPom-?
His nerves are worked back up almost instantly. Where the hell is Mr. Yang and Dan Heng? He’s too lost in thought when March 7th hooks around his arm and drags him to Yao Guang. She’s a sweet-looking, professional woman the same way Aglaea was, and that similarity makes him stay on his toes around her.
“Your companions are fine.” She assures him, and he blinks twice before realizing she’s speaking of the two trailblazers who accompanied her when they first split up. He’d love to believe her, but his body won’t settle until he can put his eyes on them.
They must both be able to sense his anxiety, because March pats him on the arm and Yao Guang addresses him directly.
“Would you check on the survivors for me? I think they would find some hope if they talked to the savior of the express himself?” She teases, but there’s a sharpness in her eyes that dares him to disobey her.
“I-I will.” He bites his lips and turns, feeling like a chastised child. He doesn’t really want to agree, but he obeys nonetheless, speaking with Nihilux and Kuchiba like it matters at all. They give him predictable insight about the ‘big bad’ and Caelus pretends like he cares at all.
The furbobos swarming around him, crying and screeching about their unknown fates. He shushes them and pets their ears. His touch is careful, and he suddenly wishes it was PomPom was under his hands, though he knows the rabbit (?) would protest vehemently.
He hushes them as best as he can, promising to keep them and himself safe while his mind wanders aimlessly. When they finally believe them, he bids a short hello to Nihilux and Kuchiba and others strewn around the small station.
When he gets the minute to breath, he drags March away from where she’s talking with Yao Guang to inspect the closed off tunnel that holds their express.
“The conductor is probably fine?” She says after his attempts at calling the conductor fall flat. He must look utterly distraught because she pats him gingerly on the back.
“Head back?” She offers in a sweet tone, and Caelus gives a watery smile.
And then finally -finally, Mr. Yang and Dan Heng appear. They both look equally relieved to see the others, and Dan Heng walks over in three seconds.
“Is everyone okay?”
He’s got March 7th’s arm in the air as he hovers around gingerly. As soon as she’s deemed whole and safe, he moves on to Caelus.
Blade and Welt Yang are a few paces behind, haggard. Sunday appears almost like a ghost, and Dan Heng rubs a gentle hand through Caelus’ hair before turning to the newest member of the Astral Express.
While Dan Heng fusses over an embarrassed Sunday, the rest of them focus on Himeko’s message.
Caelus feels a tiny part of him settle at the appearance of Mr. Yang. He won’t let anything happen to Himeko, just like he won’t let anything happen to the rest of them.
(Because someone is here that actually cares about the members of the express. Not as celebrities, or heroes, or comic book characters, but actual people who need someone to look after them. Caelus frowns at the pricking tears and scrunches his nose to keep anyone from noticing. He’ll save his emotions for when they get Himeko back.)
They keep talking about a message and the Express, but Caelus has already contributed to the conversation enough where he feels that they can handle the rest. Either way, he knows it’ll be him going to get her. He couldn’t dream of a rescue mission where he would have to be left behind. His brain wouldn’t allow it.
Go get her. It screams.
You owe her. It hiss.
She loves us. It whimpers.
Caelus nods his head absentmindedly as they agree on a plan. As expected, he’s volunteered by everybody for the physical parts, and is subsequently guided to another innocuous tube that’ll lead to Aeons knows where.
He doesn’t care, though, and maybe Dan Heng picks up on his feelings because he slips beside him silently before he leaves.
“She’s okay.” He murmurs, and Caelus almost jumps. “You heard the message she left for us. She’s waiting on us right now.”
Caelus tries to make an affirmative noise, but it comes out wonky and fearful, two things he tried so hard to suppress.
Dan Heng’s face changes a fraction. He takes a step closer, and Caelus meets him, hiding his face against a familiar green coat. Thankfully, no one is watching them.
“She wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.” Dan Heng comforts. Caelus squirms closer.
“I know.” He says, words muffled into soft, embroidered cotton. When he feels Dan Heng’s hand stroke his back, he makes a strangled noise and draws back.
“Himeko’s waiting.” Dan Heng reminds. Caelus nods and exhales roughly.
He’ll find her. He always will.
/
They find her. They also find Asat Prasad, not too far behind.
All he remembers is another world-ending, galaxy-defining battle. The Express, a shining beacon streaking through the pitch black sky. A lamp that makes Caelus' heart pound in his chest.
They pour out, back to back, sprinting to join Himeko and Caelus on the batt;efield. And it feels like they’re going to win. It feels like every other time they’ve had their backs against the wall, a knife to their throat.
But Asat Pramad flicks his hand, body turned fully to Caelus, and he feels his Stellaron flicker in his chest. It burns the same way it did back when he was at the Space Station, all heat and fire and burning.
He tries to cry out, but it gets stuck in his chest as he sinks to one knee.
(It's terrifying. The body he’s built a bond with has turned against him, and he’s desperately trying to get it back under control. It’s his Stellaron, his lifeforce, and Asat Pramad dares to use it against Planarcadia and the Express and all the little people he’s come to know. It hurts, everything does. The pain travels to his brain and he can feel himself hyperventilating as his limbs stop listening to him.)
He’s so wrapped up in panicking that he doesn’t notice when Asat Pramad slams his blade against the earth. The debris that flies up is the size of the trains in Belobog. One beelines straight towards Caelus, and the impact of the rock against his body sends him careening back.
Caelus lands on his stomach, and all the air is knocked from his lung. Any attempt at inhaling is hindered by the smoke and ash in the air, and he coughs harshly into his own chest. It’s only a few seconds, he swears it, but the moment he lifts his gaze he sees—
The Express. Burning.
Sunday and Welt. Surrounded.
March 7th and Dan Heng. Their bodies in the air.
He flinches, trying to stumble to his feet, chest glowing with the power of the Stellaron as his body responds to Asat Pramad’s beckoning. A spectre the size of a building, swung downwards in what he knows will end in a painful death. All too fast, can’t escape. He squeezes his eyes shut.
And then-
Himeko.
A soft, blue light and a mecha shield. All he can see is her back, her hair whisking behind her in the violent winds.
Protecting him while his inside’s settle. Holding strong when Asat Pramad brings forth black voids that should surely pierce through them but somehow can’t. And when she finally falters, when the shield and the arms shatter upon the force of Asat Pramad’s wrath.
Three masks, three faces, three bodies. A beam of complete eradication directed towards her as she kneels against the rubble and wreckage. She turns her head to peek at him from under blood-red hair, face morphed in apology.
The Stellaron finally bursts.
Caelus screams. And screams. And screams.
The body feels like it’s melting and being blown apart over and over again. The feeling of splintering radiates from his chest, and he can’t look at his body for fear that his fingers and toes and legs and arms have broken into two.
His head. His brain. Memories that can’t be his, of actions he might’ve done, with Kafka and Firefly, of a desolate world and red screens. Of and Phainon and Nihilux and Cyrene. Loss and his failures, eating away at him and making his skin peel off. Of Nanook’s gaze.
(Himeko, with her last bit of strength, rushes to him. “Don’t be afraid.” She whispers. She wonders if he can hear her in his comatose state. Caelus doesn’t react, but she tries anyway. “I’m here.” She whispers, arms wrapped tightly around him.)
(She always is.)