Solivagency - Empires SMP

XLVI

Xornoth stepped in.

They didn't know where to start.

It looked similar enough to their room - only that the chairs looked a bit more comfortable. A third, mismatched chair had been scuffled in, a hard, unpleasant looking material, and probably the most notable feature of it was the bed.

There was a small mountain of blankets piled on top of it, swaddled around a figure that after a few moments of blinking, they realised was Scott. He wasn't bleeding to death, or lying unconscious. But he looked worse if only because he was awake enough to look pathetic and awake enough to properly nest. The unsettling lack of golden antlers crowning his head were also a strong contender for making him look miserable.

Their heart twisted. They could have stopped that.

Could they?

Scott was watching the wall as they came in, and his head snapped towards them as soon as they made a shaky step-hop in. "Who's ther-"

He cut himself off as their eyes met. They only now noticed the way the light glittered off his irises, like sunlight bouncing off ice.

"Sorry." He blurted when neither twin said anything. "I didn't realise it was you." He stared down at the floor. "I... forgot what your footsteps sounded like."

Xornoth tried to muster up the courage to say anything. Their voice failed. It felt like someone had ripped their heart straight out of their chest and burned it still beating. Scott didn't remember what their footsteps sounded like. With a jolt, they realised that they didn't remember what his real footsteps sounded like when they weren't Exor's stomps and thuds.

"Oh." They said at last. It was all they could manage.

He shifted in his nest of blankets, the fabric rustling. "Do you... do you want to come closer?"

"Okay." They swallowed.

They moved forward, sucking a breath into their chest that lodged itself in their ribs and shook and rattled. It was an awful, difficult shuffle hop of manoeuvring their leg to reach the bed, but when they did, they found themself unable to even look at him.

(What if he hated them?)

Scott moved up, creating enough space for them to sit. It wasn't a joking, half-hearted shift that meant that they had to practically lean on him if they wanted to do anything, but a full one that they could simply sit on.

A lump started forming in their throat. They sat down on the bed.

A nervous chuckle rippled out of Scott's throat. "Um... how are you?"

"I'm... I could be better." Xornoth let out an anxious exhale of air. "My- My leg is broken. And breathing is hard. What- what about you?"

Another unfiltered silence filtered through the room. They didn't dare look at their brother, but they could hear every breath he made and every way he moved.

They supposed they should have recognised the sounds, but they didn't remember them. They didn't remember the sound of his upset breathing. They didn't remember the sound of him moving before saying something. They just remembered his face and the hare minimum of a few memories.

"Bad," Scott whispered, finally. They broke the lack of eye contact to see a glossy look in his eyes. "I- my antlers- my wing-"

Barely a second passed before he was crying. Not loudly, bit quietly, as if making a sound would cause him to break. The blankets tightened around him, and he seemed to disappear in them entirely, like armour. A good pair of armour with decent enchantments that kept him safe.