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Chapter Text

Drifter stumbled through the portal. There’s many times in life that he could say he wasn’t feeling great and now would definitely be one of them. He could feel the muscles in his feet shift as he stumbled to slide down the nearest tree—all too familiar to the vision that monster had given him. Instead of a white wall, it was a warm forest floor. A stark contrast from where they had just come from. He coughed, only adding to the splatters of pink around him.

“Jesus, I leave for one second. What the fuck happened, peasant?”

Drifter looked up with wide eyes. The flame faced man. He… wasn’t frozen. Or, at least he wasn’t frozen anymore. Drifter glanced around the man’s body.

“I’m fine. Immortal and all that. Though, it was annoying,” he stretched his back until they both heard a few cracks.

The blue knight from the other group approached cautiously. “A friend of yours?” Drifter looked between them and gave a small nod. Friend? Not fully, but an ally for sure. The knight nodded before reaching an arm to his group, “I am Shovel Knight. This is Cuphead, Niko, Madeline, and-“ he looked at an empty space. “Well, we had another,” his voice weighed down as he searched his group.

Drifter brought a hand up, signaling a small height. “Yes, the small one,” he sighed. Madeline stepped forward. “It saved me,” she said, “right before we made it to the portal. They froze it, like we saw at the restaurant.”

Drifter turned to the flame faced man with curiosity. The man in question looked around, almost bored. Drifter hit his leg from where he was sitting. “Hey-!” He turned to the group. He almost looked surprised to see the curious eyes of others on him. “Oh, uh- I don’t have a name.”

Drifter sighed, causing another coughing fit. He was hoping the man would shed some light on being frozen, but perhaps he didn’t know much either. When Drifter looked back up, he saw concerned faces.

“Don’t worry, he just does that,” the flame faced man dismissed, “terminal illness or something.”

Madeline looked down at him with pitiful eyes. Drifter’s stomach turned at it. “And your name?”

“He doesn’t talk-“

“Drifter.”

His grated voice spoke over his ally. “That’s what I’ve been called.” He wasn’t used to the sound of his own voice. As of late, speaking had only ever led to pain or blood filled coughs, so it was never worth it. But this? This felt like it might be worth talking for.

“Huh,” the flame faced man yelled, “you could’ve been talking before?!”

The man’s impatience almost brought a smile to his face. “Hurts,” he explained briefly.

The group seemed to understand. The flame faced man turned, “if we’re using what we’ve been called, then I guess I would be the beheaded. Or the prisoner. Pick your poison.”

Cuphead seemed to jump up excitedly, “you’ve been to jail?” Beheaded crossed his arms, “been to? I live there.”

Before the conversation could continue, a drone appeared. Drifter struggled to stand, trying to prepare himself. The pain in his foot from the last fight caused him to slide back down the wall. He turned to face the machine only to find his view blocked. Beheaded stood in front of him defensively.

“You can relax, my friends. This is Charlotte. She is a machine, but she has also been a great ally,” Shovel Knight declared.

Beheaded’s flame flickered brighter for a moment, “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“She can read minds!” Cuphead provided.

“No I cannot,” her robotic voice disputed. “I can scan a life form to learn where it originates from.”

Drifter had his own bot that scanned things. He turned to it, seeing it hovering beside him. Still, his didn’t look exactly like the ones that had been trying to kill them prior. And his wasn’t sentient.

Niko approached him before turning to the drone, “Maybe you can scan him and see if there’s a way to heal him.”

Drifter raised a hand, reaching for his syringe. God, he should’ve done this right away. His head really must have been thrown for a loop.

“I think the kids talking about your cough, peasant.” Beheaded looked down on him as he stabbed the syringe into his wrist. He saw a few of the others wince at the action. He opened his mouth to reassure them, but it only led to another cough.

“Please,” Niko approached, “you helped me earlier.” He remembered. The small cat-like child he had found in the road. “I would like to see if we can help you,” they added.

The thought of a cure did sound good. Too good to be true. But still, isn’t that what his whole journey had been for? Charlotte stared at him without any indication of a oreference. He let the machine approach, signaling for Beheaded to allow it.

He was expecting some sort of scanner. Instead, the machine stared at him silently for a minute before speaking.

“The Drifter is from a world of disease. He searches his land for a cure, guided by Anubis, and discovers underground passages leading to energy sources. He searches for a powerful cell imbued in all life on his planet. This cell is the cause for all the infections.”

Beheaded seemed to snap to attention at the mention of a cell.

Drifter’s shoulders sagged in relief. The underground passages. Once he gets back he just has to destroy the cell-

“Upon finding the cell, he will free his world of disease at the expense of his life. His illness is the only one that remains.”

His heart leapt to his throat. Niko jumped up, “Charolette!” He could hear Shovel Knight and Madeline yell as well. The group seemed to argue with the machine as Drifter felt his lungs constrict. His panic led to more coughs, getting blood on his arm as he raised it to cover himself. Voices blurred in his ears. Were his hands shaking? Or was it his whole body? He-

A slap echoed in the room. Eyes turned to the source of the sound. Drifter’s cheek stung and he looked up in a panic. Despite the pain, he could at least focus now.

Eyes glared at Beheaded. “What? It worked in the past,” he defended.

Shovel Knight stepped forward, swinging an arm out in disbelief. “You can’t slap your allies!” Drifter held an arm out. Truthfully, the slap had helped. Even if he wouldn’t admit it.

Niko and Madeline seemed to take Charolette to the side in angry hushed tones. The pity in their eyes was unbearable.

“You ask me, you’re lucky,” Beheaded whispered as he sunk beside him. “Immortality is shit.” Drifter sighed. There were too many people here. Even if allies helped, he much preferred working alone. He had a feeling the Beheaded was the same way. At least, he’s not sure the man would be able to team up with anyone based on the mouth he has.

The lack of reply must’ve prompted Beheaded. He man nudged him and inclined his (not) head to the machine. He whispered, “you trust that thing?” He thought for a moment. He trusted their new allies, but the machine? Drifter shook his head. “Then don’t trust it about your future. It could be trying to throw us off.”

That… helped. Though, it seemed to know a lot about his world. Then again, using that information would only make a lie even more convincing.

The drone approached again. Drifter didn’t miss the way Beheaded tensed. “I would like to apologize. Something’s should be left unsaid.” The sincerity in its tone, even if robotic, had him fearing again. Maybe it had been telling the truth. “As for Niko’s suggestion, there is no relief or cure that I can provide. I suggest holding onto your medicine.”

Drifter nodded. Whatever would end the interaction sooner. He wasn’t keen on spending time talking to this thing. Even being in its presence was unnerving.

He checked his syringe supply. He had three more. Not great, but could be a lot worse.

“Could always take some of mine,” Beheaded offered as he swished a glass with strange colored liquid around. “Don’t worry, it’s the good stuff.” Drifter was almost ashamed that he chuckled beneath his mask.

Chapter Text

With Drifter now healed, the group continued together. The area around them was alarmingly sunny and colorful. Every time they thought they caught a glimpse of something, it would scurry away.

“This place hurts my eyes,” Cuphead said as he squinted. “Way too many colors,” Beheaded agreed.

Drifter listened intently. He could hear tall plants swaying in the wind. Distant footprints caught his ear. He held up a hand to silence the group before leading them through a small cornfield.

“Beasts! There’s more beasts!” A small pink blob made itself known before it was even spotted. It ran to a village, its cries causing other small blobs to panic.

One paused and asked, “I thought we were okay with the beast?”

“We’re okay with our beast! But look at those ones!”

“Maybe our beast knows them…”

“Go get the beast!”

It only took a few moments for all the creatures to scurry into small houses before one red blob appeared. It had two eyes and two legs… but not much else. An oval shaped red blob that would’ve looked much like the others if not for its lack of nose and mouth. It stared at them silently.

“I suppose we should introduce ourselves,” Shovel Knight began, “I am Shovel Knight, and we-“

The red creature stuck out one leg, kicking Shovel Knight 200 feet backwards.

“Hey!?” Madeline shouted. Cuphead tried to shoot it, but the creature was swift, tucking its legs in and managing to avoid every shot. Until Beheaded grabbed the thing. Its legs tried to kick at his face, but they simply kicked in and out of the flame, doing nothing.

“Hey, we need a portal. Have you seen one,” Beheaded started. “It’s red and black. Looks kinda like my face?” The red blob blinked at him.

Charolette stepped forward. She was silent for a moment and Drifter wondered what it was doing until it began to speak. “This is Piku. It is a beast of legend in its world. To redeem itself from the villager’s fears, it goes around helping people.”

“This is the beast they were yelling about?” Niko questioned.

“They all look the same to me,” Cuphead said. “You can’t say that anymore,” Niko chided. Cuphead was about to argue until Shovel Knight reappeared. His helmet had a scuff on it from where he had been kicked.

“What a worthy opponent. Truly, I can see why the others might fear you,” he panted.

“It cannot speak,” Charolette pointed out.

“You sure? I thought he couldn’t up until recent,” Beheaded tilted his head to Drifter.

Drifter rolled his eyes. His bot drifted forward, showing Piku an image of what the portal would look like. Its eyes scanned the photo for a moment before using its leg to point further into the woods.

“Must be that way,” Madeline said.

Beheaded set Piku on the ground. “Behave,” he chided it like a dog. Piku simply stared at him before walking around him.

“See, I can handle the ‘beast’-“

Piku kicked him in the direction of the portal. Its eyes scanned the rest of them before they quickly followed after Beheaded.

He was found 500 feet away, ass up in the dirt.

“Maybe you shouldn’t antagonize powerful creatures in their own realm,” Shovel Knight said as he offered a hand. Beheaded pushed himself up without it, ego damaged. “I can handle myself, peasant.”

“Peasant? I am a knight-!”

“Of a shovel,” he countered.

Shovel Knight looked aghast. “How dare you! The shovel is the most powerful weapon and tool, versatile in every way-!”

“He really likes his shovel,” Cuphead explained as he walked by the two of them.

Drifter’s bot pulled up an image of a frying pan. Right, the Beheaded’s main weapon.

He wasn’t sure how Beheaded was able to pout, but he could tell he was. “Okay but have you ever tried whacking someone with a frying pan? It works!”

Drifter laughed, leading to another coughing fit. He could feel the blood splatter on his arm.

Madeline patted his back, which he just as quickly stepped away from. “I just want to make sure you’re okay,” she said.

“Im fine,” he managed. Her eyes dropped at the rejection… she stepped away. “There’s nothing wrong with accepting aid,” Shovel Knight said quietly. “Don’t need it,” Drifter said back.

The conversation was dropped as they continued forward in search of the portal. Drifter and Beheaded walked ahead of the group, more used to each other’s presence than the others in their group. The tension seemed to dissipate as their allies behind them found other things to playfully argue about. The silence was interrupted five minutes later by a curious Cuphead.

“Why do you call people peasants? Don’t you live in jail?”

“Not anymore,” Beheaded quipped back. Cuphead raised a brow, noting the lack of an actual answer. Beheaded waved a hand, “I don’t know. Everyone is a peasant to me. Consider it a term of endearment.”

The answer only partially satiated the young cup. He threw himself onto Beheaded’s back so they could chat easier. The taller man only grumbled for a moment before repositioning himself to get the kid in a more comfortable spot. Then the questions began.

“Why were you in jail?”

“I don’t know. Just woke up and I was.”

“You were born there?”

“No, but I can’t remember anything before it.”

“You’re strong, why couldn’t you break out?”

“I did and I have. But every time I die, I end up back there.”

“How many times have you died?”

“More than I can count. I’m immortal.”

“I can die and come back too, yknow,” Cuphead smirked.

Drifter rolled his eyes. A bitter feeling took root in his chest. They would never know to fear eternal death. Maybe that’s what made him so different than them.

“Maybe Charolette could find out why you were in jail!” Cuphead said excitedly.

Even without eyes, Beheaded gave a clear grimace, “Maybe not. We know what happened last time.”

“But she knows what not to say now!” Cuphead argued childishly.

“I wouldn’t say that makes it better,” Beheaded turned to Drifter for some sort of support. But he had had enough of people pitying him for today.

Drifter cleared his throat, “Do what you want.”

Cuphead held his head up with an arm and leaned into Beheaded’s space, “He’s moody, huh?”

Beheaded quickly picked the cup up, despite his protests, and walked back to place him on Shovel Knights shoulders.

He ran back up. “That’s enough of him for now.”

Drifter smirked. “He’s chatty.”

“I’m giving him an excuse cause he’s like five. I think. I can’t age a cup.”

The two laughed together. When their chuckles subsided, Drifter spoke. “You can use Charolette if you want.”

Beheaded shook his head. “We don’t trust that thing, remember?” He turned to him, “Plus, it’s against bro code.”

Drifter shook his head, “I don’t need any of you doing things for me out of pity. My illness… in my world everyone has it.”

Beheaded was quiet as they walked. Drifter thought that maybe he had finally made himself clear. But Beheaded spoke, “It’s not pity. It’s solidarity.” Beheaded held a hand out, stoping Drifter. He let the others walk past them and ahead until it was just them.

“We fought some tough shit together. Just the two of us. I trust you more than I trust any of them. And that fuckin’ machine was an ass to you, peasant. So I don’t want any part of it. We’re in this together.”

Drifter was at a loss for words. He wouldn’t have expected such a heart to heart from the hot-headed (haha) man.

“Solidarity, then,” he eventually nodded. He held a hand out and Beheaded was quick to shake it. The light breeze made some of Beheaded’s flames tickle his cheek. He was surprised to find it only comfortably warm.

“Now let’s get back up front. I don’t trust those guys to not get killed.”

Chapter Text

Beheaded ran to the front of the group. He looked back to gloat, only to see that Drifter had beat him there. “How do you even do that?” He grumbled.

“I’m a drifter,” the hoarse man smirked.

“But I thought that was just your name, or- what they called you,” Niko asked. They tilted their head as they tried to get a good glance at him.

“It’s… kind of a title,” Drifter explained. “There are other drifters,” he cleared his throat, “We try to preserve things—history or technology. I try to find a cure for the people in my world.” The conversation reminded him about what Charolette had said. His supposed fate.

“But that doesn’t answer the question,” Beheaded pointed out. “How do you do the,” he waved his hands around, “the fast light movement thing!”

“Training,” Drifter answered.

Madeline walked faster to join their conversation, “Training, I know about training! That’s how I got all speedy too. I was training to climb a mountain. Well- I was in the middle of climbing it when the portal showed up.”

“Really? No grand motive, just climbing a mountain?” Beheaded asked.

Before Madeline could shrink in embarrassment, Shovel Knight spoke up. He put a hand on her shoulder, “There is no greater motive than pushing yourself to be better.”

“Yeah, you didn’t even know why you were in jail,” Cuphead said. Shovel Knight perked up, “Jail? Why?”

“He doesn’t even know!” Cuphead answered for him. Beheaded crossed his arms, ready to argue.

“Everyone, look!” Charolette’s robotic voice prevented the budding fight. Up ahead was a portal. A few colorful leaf-like blob creatures were poking at it. The group watched as one accidentally entered.

“Let’s go,” Shovel Knight commanded, “We don’t know when another will open.”

An explosion sounded in the distance. Cuphead grimaced, “That’s… probably normal for them.” Another sounded off.

Shovel Knight looked torn between escaping and fighting whatever just entered the realm.

“Leave it for now,” Charolette spoke, “We can’t save everyone. We need to replenish our energy after the last fight.”

Shovel Knight turned to the side in shame. He knew the toll the last fight had taken. Their small knight friend was gone. Even with its sacrifice, they had only just made it out alive. He nodded.

The group approached it silently. Each portal felt different from the previous. Perhaps a precursor to what the next realm would be like. This one felt warm and somehow misty.

The others walked in before Drifter, eager to leave. He took in a breath before entering.

-

The first thing Drifter saw when he entered was an open blue sky. He stared in amazement before Beheaded shoved the leaf-like creature back through the portal to its original world. Shovel Knight glared at him. Beheaded shrugged, “What? It was a leaf. We don’t need dead weight. It’ll probably be happier back in its realm anyways.”

He stepped out of their way, noticing the creaking wood beneath him. A ship.

“This place is massive!”

The sound of Madeline’s voice made him turn around, and he could agree. He had never seen a ship so large. The floor of it was large, sure. But the height of it amazed them. Stacks of rooms towered into the blue sky. Ladders and zip lines connected varying rooms. Some of them were easily recognizable as farms while others looked more comparable to small factories.

Despite all of it, the place gave Drifter a grave sense of unease.

The sound of Shovel Knight yelping made him rush to his side, activating and swinging out his sword. He froze just before cutting into-… a large red bird.

It had a flower in its chest, the same bright red color as its face and inner wings. The rest of its body was a muddy brownish-red, and its beak was a dark black. Its eyes were an alarming pure white.

It towered over the two with a scrutinizing gaze before inspecting Drifter’s sword. “Well, this is a lovely piece,” he spoke. “Stella! Who are the new passengers?”

His shouting caused a young girl to peek down from one of the rooms above them. She stared at them curiously before jumping off the platform. She held her hat above her, causing her to float down slowly.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted, “Are you seeking the Everdoor?”

“We are seeking the next portal out of here,” Shovel Knight said as he stepped out from behind Drifter. Maybe the others couldn’t tell, but Drifter was a master of interpreting hidden emotions. Many of the drifters in his world hid behind masks and helmets so as to hide their feelings. Which is why he could tell that Shovel Knight was embarrassed by his fear. The thought made him smirk.

The girl, Stella, nodded. “I see. Normally I have to seek people out before they appear on the boat. And normally they look a bit more… animal.” That explained the big bird.

“We have a cat,” Beheaded said.

“I am not a cat,” Niko said with mild annoyance.

“I am,” Drifter added.

Stella looked excited by this while his own group members seemed surprised. He raised his gloved hands and shuffled his helmet off, revealing two pointed ears that stuck out from the sides of his head and somewhat shaggy blue hair. It was spiked in different directions from his helmet.

Beheaded stared blankly, “Aren’t cat ears supposed to go on the top of your head?”

Drifter returned his stare, “I think I would know more about it than you.”

He lifted his helmet to put it back on, pausing to cough. This alarmed Stella, “Can I get you something to drink? Eat? We have plenty here.”

Drifter didn’t even get the chance to turn away her help. Niko raised their arm, “Food would be great.”

Stella nodded, “By all means, make yourself at home. I’ll set you up in the guest room until I can give you a resting place. I’ll grab something for you all.” She turned to the bird, “Gustav, can you show them to the guest house?”

His eyes widened in offended panic, “There’s already no room in there! I struggle to paint as it is!”

Stella smiled, “I actually just finished your room.” At that, the bird perked up. He spoke with a big smile on his face, “Oh why thank you, skipper. I’ll show them to their room, then.”

Gustav turned and happily shouted, “Follow me!” Stella climbed up a ladder to another room, presumably to make the group food.

Charolette didn’t make an effort to move. “I’ll stay out here to keep watch. I’ll let you know if any portals arrive.” Drifter wasn’t keen on leaving her alone... and one look at Beheaded showed that he wasn’t either. But the rest of the group seemed to have no problems with it, so they let it be. Gustav led the way with a pompous pep in his step.

“He’s a piece of work,” Cuphead mumbled.

“Most art keepers are,” Shovel Knight agreed.

Madeline shook her head, looking over the sea, “I don’t know, this place seems really nice. One sour grape wont ruin the bunch!” When they looked at her blankly, she shrunk, “—or something like that.”

Gustav led them to an enclosed room at the bottom of one of the towers of rooms. He bowed dramatically, “This is the guest house, hand-made by Stella. Isn’t she wonderful?” He turned away from the door in excitement, “Excuse me, I simply must go explore my new room.”

The six were left outside of the room. Cuphead opened the door, “Well, this is more like it!”

The house was yellow on the outside and light blue on the inside. The various windows made way for light to filter in along with a nice view of the passing water outside. The only downside was the lack of room. It was clearly used to a couple guests at a time. The only place to sleep was a few makeshift beds and a couch, which Cuphead quickly claimed rights to.

“I hope the machines don’t follow us here,” Madeline said. Shovel Knight nodded, “Charolette will keep watch. We need to regain our strength. Besides, this is a lovely place to rest.”

“Yeah, for five of you,” Cuphead laughed from the couch.

Drifter raised a brow as Niko counted the number of makeshift mattresses out loud. “One, two, three, four. And the couch…”

“—which I’m not sharing!” Cuphead yelled as he crossed his arms behind his head. His small form only filled up half the space of the couch, but no one seemed keen on arguing with him.

“Well, I can share,” Shovel Knight chuckled nervously, “But I worry that my large figure might be uncomfortable. You know, for the rest of you.”

Drifter rolled his eyes. But the man did have a point. He was way too big to share.

Madeline spoke, “Well, Niko should get their own bed since they’re a child. I suppose I could…” she began to nervously offer before realizing that would mean she would need to share with either Drifter or Beheaded. She went quiet after that.

Beheaded stretched, “Well, that settles it. Peasant, you’re with me.”

Drifter gave an unimpressed look. There wasn’t much room on the makeshift floor beds. Surely one of them would be pushed to the floor during the night.

Nevertheless, everyone sat down.

Chapter Text

Drifter and Beheaded’s bed, if a mattress on the floor with no blankets or sheets could constitute a bed, lay in the corner of the room. With some space from the others, they could talk without fear of being heard.

Beheaded stared out the nearest window at Charolette. “‘Lookout’ my ass. I bet she’s phoning her robo-pals.”

Drifter sat against the wall, letting his eyes shut and muscles relax. As much as he agreed with the man, he didn’t have the energy to continue to theorize about the robot. “We’ll keep an eye out,” Drifter said with a sigh.

Beheaded tore his gaze away from the window, giving his friend a once over.

When Drifter opened his eyes at the prolonged silence, Beheaded was right in front of him. His eyes widened, staring at the other. Beheaded stared for another minute before backing up. “So,” he spoke playfully, “I didn’t know we were keeping secrets from each other.” Drifter raised a brow.

“The whole ‘cat’ thing,” the man said.

Drifter smirked, “Wasn’t a secret.”

Beheaded waved a hand before leaning back on his arms, “Lie by omission.” Drifter chuckled, “Sure.”

The sun from outside filtered through the windows, heating the room. While it wasn’t necessarily hot, it was warm. Drifter took his helmet off and leaned back. The wall behind him was cool, a refreshing change of pace.

Beheaded stared at him. “Your ears just don’t look right,” he said. Drifter let his gaze drop but refused to move his head, “What does that even mean?”

“It means a cats ears go up here,” he pointed up fingers to mimic cat ears on his own head, or lack-thereof. “You sure you’re not lying? I don’t like liars, Drifter.” The joke would’ve made him chuckle if he hadn’t paused at the fact that Beheaded just called him his actual name instead of peasant. He smirked.

The moment was interrupted by Stella entering the guest house with a tray of plates and drinks. Cuphead bounded over to her energetically, rambling about being starving. The rest of them waited patiently for Stella to hand them food and drinks.

Beheaded was handed a plate of fried chicken. His eyes widened, “How did you know this was my favorite-?”

Stella tilted her head to outside, “Your friend Charolette helped me. She seemed to know a lot about all of your preferences.” Beheaded’s gratefulness turned sour. He held his tongue as Drifter was served. He got toast, tea, and a bottle of medicine. Cough syrup, it seemed.

Drifter also narrowed his eyes at the plate. Still, he thanked the girl as she walked out with the promises of getting blankets for everyone.

“She scanned us!” Beheaded whisper-yelled, “I didn’t agree to that!”

He pulled himself away from his own anger to look at Drifter’s plate. “And that just seems offensive,” he growled.

“Sick people food,” Drifter nodded, “I don’t have strep—I’m dying.”

Beheaded seemed eager to ignore the other’s admission of mortality. He ate some of the chicken. Though, his process of eating looked more like holding the chicken to a flame until it burned away. “If that machine scanned us, then why is your food ass?”

Drifter shrugged. “Probably because I don’t eat.”

Beheaded looked at him in confusion. “What do you mean you don’t eat? Like, often?”

The other shook his head. He pulled one of his few syringes out, showing it to Beheaded. “These heal me. They give me nutrients and medication and everything else I need.”

Beheaded stared at him blankly, “Jeez man, no wonder you’re so skinny. Don’t worry, once we’re out of here I can grab you some good kebabs or something.” He held up his last piece of chicken, about to eat it before he stopped. He broke a part of it off. It made a noise that was both greasy and crispy that Drifter couldn’t help but make a face at. Beheaded held part of it out to him. “You want some?”

Despite his apprehension, he felt it would be rude to decline. He took it, thankful for the barrier his gloves provided as the grease slid down them.

He pulled his scarf down and took a bite. It was nice. Crunchy and warm, even if the texture was off putting. He turned to Beheaded, “This is your favorite?” The other man nodded as he leaned back. It was nice seeing him somewhat calm after the intensity of their recent travels.

After the chicken, he nibbled on his toast in silence. It was nice, but irritated his throat, causing a coughing fit. The meds were ignored and the tea was stared at in disdain after the first sip. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

Beheaded had returned to glaring out the window. When Drifter followed his line of sight, he saw Charolette seemingly staring into the horizon. She pulled up a command prompt and began typing. That seemed to be enough to set Beheaded off.

Drifter called out his name as the man stood and angrily walked past the others in the room. Drifter knew nothing good would come of this. He stood in a hurry, following him outside. The others followed curiously, yelling out for Beheaded as well.

“Hey, asshole!” Beheaded shouted at Charolette. She turned to him. “The fuck do you know about me?! Been scanning me when I’m not looking?!”

Drifter ran to Beheaded’s side. He didn’t agree with how the man was going about it, but he wouldn’t let him do it alone.

The robot let out a sigh. “I know all of your information,” she said as her she pointed to the entire group. “This is the best way for us to know how to move forward. Not to mention, I am the one trying to bring you all back to your own realms. So yes, I scanned you.” Her robotic voice didn’t mask her annoyance.

“Yeah, trying to bring us ‘home’ one by one. Splitting us up so your little machine friends can pick us off!”

“She’s helped us before-“ Madeline tried to interject.

“Can it, kid! The adults are talking! You may be kind and caring but this thing—“ Beheaded pointed to Charolette, “—is not!”

“Beheaded!” Drifter growled quietly. Charolette was their enemy, not Madeline. Even if the woman tended to baby him, he knew it was out of concern. They didn’t need to lose their allies.

“Perhaps kindness is something you’re lacking,” Charolette said angrily. “After all, you sentenced your entire kingdom to disease in a selfish quest for immortality. Immortality that you seem to be bored with more often than not.”

Everyone stilled.

Beheaded’s anger was replaced by confusion, “I-… what?”

“Did you never consider,” she said, “that you were in prison for a reason?” She walked closer to him. “You sentenced those who trusted you to disease. Slow and painful. If they didn’t die from the Malaise, they were executed when they showed signs of it.” Each word was spoke with a barely controlled bite. The group looked sick as they stared at him.

Drifter took a step back.

Beheaded turned to him, “Wait-“

Charolette continued, “Including children! Surely you remember their bodies strung up in your travels. Or maybe you were too preoccupied planning the escape from your punishment.”

“Wait! I didnt- I don’t remember this. That’s not me-! She’s lying!”

Cuphead grimaced, “You did say you didn’t remember your past.”

Niko was quiet, looking at the floor uncomfortably.

Shovel Knight swallowed, “Charolette hasn’t lied to us yet. She told the truth about our previous ally’s world.”

Madeline stayed quiet, feeling no need to defend the brash and cruel man.

And Drifter… Drifter was further away now. His mouth was open in shock. He had been fighting his whole life to find a cure for him and his people, fearing death every step of the way. Now he finds that his friend had inflicted that fate, that pain, onto who knows how many people. People that trusted him, that looked to him for leadership.

Drifter snapped his head to the side, refusing to look at the man. He stormed away to the front of the ship.

“Drifter-!” Beheaded shouted.

“So it’s not ‘peasant’ anymore?” Madeline spoke up. “Finally dropping the kingly words now that we know?”

“I didn’t even know—,” he began, “She’s lying, she has to be! Just like she did with Drifter!”

Shovel Knight stepped forward, carefully placing his hand on Beheaded’s shoulder, “What she said about the Drifter is an unfortunate mistake. But surely not one he wasn’t aware of. He is ill. To know he will pass from it isn’t so hard to believe-“

Beheaded quickly shrugged the hand off of him, “Yes it is! He’s strong! He isn’t going to die from a little cough-!” His voice shook.

“It’s not a cough,” Charolette began, “it is a terminal illness. Considering he was part of a society with disease forced upon him, I would suggest that you leave him alone.”

Beheaded felt all eyes on him. Each splash of a wave hitting the ship ran in his ears. He felt dizzy as the boat moved up and down. He panted and went to step up to Charolette, but Stella walked forward.

She placed a hand on him and he strangely found his body instantly calmed. “Let’s go this way, alright?” She smiled softly. Normally he would be untrusting of the effect she just had on him, but he was still reeling from everything that had just happened.

He looked at the others, trying to gauge their emotions. Their faces were either turned away or full of contempt.

He walked to the back of the ship with Stella.

Chapter Text

Stella walked Beheaded to the back of the ship, holding the door open to a small room with a map across the wall. The lights dimmed as the map lit up. Without the light from outside, it was comfortably dark. Stella sat on the floor and patted the spot next to her. He sat with a thud. She looked to him expectedly.

Beheaded picked at his nails.

Stella sighed, seeming to realize he wouldn’t be the type to open up. She looked at him hopefully, “So, what happened out there?”

He leaned forward angrily, “That stupid robot is lying to people about who I am! I didn’t do any of that stuff! And Drifter just believed it?!” His flames shot around in a flurry of emotions. Stella nodded as she listened, and the quiet clicks of the projector sounded even softer after his outburst.

“Maybe he just needs a moment to gather his thoughts-“

“No! You didn’t see the look in his eyes! He- That was hatred! I- he was disappointed in me like I’m some sort of child that did something wrong!”

Stella spoke softly, “Would it be bad if you had done something wrong?”

Beheaded turned to her. “That’s literally what a bad thing is.”

Stella tried to think of how to reason with the man. She leaned her head back against the wall, flattening her large hat. “If it were up to you, would you do it now?”

The flames from his face drifted slowly while the rest of him froze completely. Almost as if he hadn’t heard her. She was tempted to ask again before he finally replied. “I wouldn’t.”

Stella nodded. They let the projector play above them, their eyes couldn’t help but follow it despite the awkward angle of sitting beneath it.

“Yknow,” Stella started, “I’ve had a lot of passengers on my ship. Every single one of them has regrets—either something they wish they did or something they wish they didn’t do.”

He turned back to her.

She continued, “You may have done something bad. But most people do. Now you have friends and a chance to move forward. Sure, right now they’re judging you, but you just have to be the person you want to be. Not the person they see you as. Eventually they’ll notice.”

Beheaded ran his finger along the wood of the floor, avoiding her gaze. “Thanks… I, uh, I appreciate that.” He leaned his head back, copying her relaxed pose. Sometimes it was hard to focus on relaxing each muscle of his borrowed body. But he knew how to mimic.

The stagnant air of the cabin soon changed to a burnt smell. Beheaded turned to her, “Are you cooking something?”

She was staring above him with wide eyes. He followed her gaze to find a half burnt paper. The projection was still playing, but now half of it was across the wooden wall.

“Shit!” He jumped up and patted the paper. “Oh, fuck! Fuck! I’m sorry, shit-“

His tangent was interrupted by giggles.

Stella was on the floor, hand over her mouth, trying to hide her laughter.

“Don’t laugh!” He shouted in embarrassment. “I fucked up! Again!”

She wiped her eyes as she stood. “It’s a paper, I can replace it. I have a million resources on this ship.”

Beheaded looked down, scuffing his foot against the wood, feeling the texture of the grain on his skin. “Still…” he mumbled, “you just said all this stuff about forgiveness—now you’re laughing. At me. Don’t be a dick.”

She raised a brow, still sporting a cautious smirk. “I’m just treating you how I would treat anyone. I’m not not gonna demonize you for something. Especially something you didn’t even know you did.”

“I’m talking about the paper,” he sighed as he motioned to the map.

“So am I,” she said as she turned to him. She walked up to him and gently grabbed his hand, pulling it away from the wall. She looked down at it as she held it between both of her own. “I forgive you for what you did to me, to my map,” she chuckled. “But I am allowed to react to it…” Her thumb wiped across the top of his hand comfortingly. “…Just as the others are allowed to react. Drifter may be upset. Your allies might be frustrated. It might upset them. And that might upset you. But mistakes aren’t going to be happy. They will hurt as life has hurt. But life is also beautiful. Things will constantly change for better and worse. The only thing we can do is adjust to it and follow our own beliefs. You still care for your friends?”

He cared for Drifter. They had some sort of bond that he couldn’t shake. Despite the argument, he cared for his other allies too. “…Yes.”

She nodded. “Then be kind. Be understanding.”

He nodded. Still, his chest stung. “I don’t even know if what that robot said is true.”

Stella shrugged, “Still, we will adjust.” She let his hand go and fixed his scarf for him. It hadn’t been misplaced during their conversation, and he was half sure she did it just to comfort him. But he wouldn’t protest. Something about her was calming.

She walked towards the door to the outside before turning around. “You want to know a secret?” He nodded.

“The fact that they’re hurt by all of this, even if it is untrue, shows that they care.” He looked at her blankly. She tilted her head with a smile, “You wouldn’t feel surprised by a stranger betraying you.”

With that, she walked out the door. The sunlight was nearly blinding after he had adjusted to the darkness of the room. When the door shut after her, he was left in the dark again. His own flame provided a soft light as he tried to process the conversation.

Chapter Text

Shovel Knight separated from the group. It had been a bit since Stella had walked Beheaded away, leaving the group reeling with the newfound information. Charolette wasn’t shy in continuing her full report of what she thought of Beheaded and his past. He had to scold her to stop, to let them all process everything. She had been angry, but silent.

The tension bled way to awkwardness. A few went back into the guest house, but Shovel Knight was too concerned for their newer friend.

Drifter sat at the ships front. The soothing up and downs of the ship calmed him as the water splashed a gentle mist. The silence had given him time to process. If it was true… if he really did those things- Drifter would never want to see him again. Never call him an ally. Then again, if it was true that he had no recollection of it, could it even be considered his action?

The silence was interrupted by steady steps of clanking metal. Then the sound of a stumble. Drifter turned to the knight.

“Seems I haven’t acquired my sea-legs,” the older chuckled as he leaned on the boats front. Drifter was sat ahead of him, on the ships figurehead. He turned back to the ocean.

Shovel Knight sighed. “I’m not happier about this information than you are, and I can see why it aches you more than any of us,” the man began, “…and I am not one to defend the acts of another. It’s not my place.”

Drifter’s eyes turned to him without moving, seeing the blue armor from his peripheral.

“Yet I feel that any man deserves the chance to defend himself. It doesn’t have to be now. It-… it doesn’t even have to come to fruition I suppose. Either way, your allies are here with you.” The knight placed a hand on Drifter’ shoulder.

Drifter faced him and nodded. It felt almost harder to speak now. He had spoken so easily with Beheaded. With that tether gone, he felt alone once again. Even as Shovel Knight told him opposite.

Drifter waited until the other walked away to allow himself to lay on his back on the figurehead. He was always on his feet, but lying down was when he could let himself relax. His head was pulsing from thinking about Beheaded.

Only a few minutes later did he hear uncertain steps. In their group, only two ever seemed uncertain. And only one of them seemed to pity him enough to meddle in his affairs.

“Are you… doing alright?” Madeline asked.

Drifter closed his eyes and sighed. He had thought he was done with the socialization. He thought he could rest and process it all. He felt his tail flick from under his cloak.

“I’m fine.”

Madeline looked over him. “You don’t, uh… seem fine,” her words peaked in a way that made it sound like a question.

Drifter sat up. There was an anger in him now. He had been fighting non-stop lately with all the robots. His ally, maybe even someone he would consider a friend, did immoral acts that Drifter couldn’t move past. On top of all of that, he couldn’t get a moment of peace.

“I am a fighter,” his rough voice spoke. “I am not some weak little—,” he raised his hands around, “—thing. So stop it! Stop the pity and the attention. I don’t need it.”

He was nearly leaned over her now.

She swallowed and tried to straighten her posture. “I—,” her words were cut off by a stammer, but also a purple figure emerging from her side. It looked just like her.

“She is not pitying you!” The doppelgänger yelled. “She is trying to care for you in the ways she knows how. If you get all bothered about it then eat it!”

“Badeline—“

The purple figure turned her back on the both of them, seemingly storming away at Madeline’s inability to speak up for herself. Madeline and Drifter’s gaze met as they were left alone.

“I’m sorry about her— and the…pitying thing? I swear, I’m not trying to pity you. I just… when I see someone who needs help, I like to help.”

The sentiment was so childishly sweet that Drifter let out a sigh. “I appreciate that,” he said, “but I can handle it alone. I have for all my life.”

She nodded, “Just because you have in the past doesn’t mean you have to anymore. Things change. Needs change. People change. It’s nice to rely on others.”

Drifter considered the words, but not for himself. People change. Was it really that simple? Could he overlook Beheaded’s actions simply because it was in the past?

His lingering thoughts were interrupted by Madeline. She was looking at anything but him. “Anyways… uh, yeah. Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I can’t say I won’t offer to help again because it’s kinda what I do. But, you can always decline-“

“Thank you.”

She turned to him.

Drifter pushed himself off of the edge of the ship. “I appreciate it, Madeline. I am capable of doing things. I don’t need the worry. But… thank you. And I’m sorry for being rude.” He felt he owed her that much. She smiled softly before walking away, mumbling about looking for her counterpart.

Drifter stood for a moment, just letting the motion of the moving ship relax him.

He didn’t know how to feel. But he knew what he wanted.

He walked towards where he had last seen Beheaded.