Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

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Storms in the Forsaken Realm were far from pleasant. They were loud, rather aggressive, and would last for days on end.

These storms made it impossible to leave shelter with how slick the grounds became. Mud would be everywhere, so traversing areas without solid floor was quite the gamble.

Luckily, this horrid weather didn't stretch to the rounds. If it did, both sides would probably be done for.

It was almost impossible to see through the pouring rain, like trying to find a needle in a haystack.

During these times, the survivors would typically camp out in the lobby. They'd start a fire and stay inside for the duration of the storm, only leaving to gather more resources, which didn't happen often after the first storm, when Builderman made the decision to keep a stash for situations regarding the weather.

The team learned quick that staying as a group was far better than splitting up into their separate cabins, in the rare case something happened and help was needed.

The storms were unpredictable, and things could quickly go off the rails in the blink of an eye.

Two Time didn't like it at first, the idea of always having somebody nearby, but grew to tolerate the unavoidable company.

The couch was the most filled, so they mainly stuck to the strange diner area, where no food was ever actually served. They were close enough so the others wouldn't seek them out, but far enough to have some peace.

While the rest of the survivors chatted amongst themselves, mainly plans on different ways to survive the rounds forced upon them, Two Time stayed away. They picked at their sharpened nails, almost resembling claws at this point, with a subtle black tint to them.

During their time with the Spawnists they'd kept their nails rather short, never letting them grow past their fingertips. It would've just gotten in the way of their chores, mostly consisting of cleaning the church after sermons and rituals.

They were proud to admit they-although some may not believe it-were probably the cleanest among the team when it came to their surroundings.

Amarah often told them that the Spawn blessed those who kept the floors clear and furniture spotless, drilled it into their head like most things he taught them.

Those habits had carried with them into the Forsaken Realm. They kept the lobby and their shared cabin as clean as possible, making sure nothing was left where it didn't belong. Elliot probably found this behavior annoying, but he hadn't told Two Time to stop, so they kept it up.

At first they were appalled to learn the others weren't just as eager to pick things up when they dropped, even if was them who tipped it.

Most didn't see it as a big deal, and that was.. strange to them.

Still, even though they had been assured and reassured multiple times that the lobby didn't need to be spotless 24/7, Two Time still got that itch to adjust things when they weren't centered.

Perfectionist? Maybe, but we've gotten off track.

Right, their nails. They didn't appreciate the length, but mostly dealt with it.

There was no way to cut them, safely at least, and well... They weren't above scratching someone across the face if their dagger wasn't near.

Nails made good weapons when strong enough, though not as great as a blade.

Rain pounded against the wooden walls of the lobby, startling them out of their thoughts, and they moved their hands away from each other so they would stop fidgeting.

The wind picked up and thunder grumbled in the distance, making the floor shake beneath Two Time's feet.

Their tail twitched beside them, eyes flickering towards the living room, if it could even be called that. The chatter hadn't died down, and much like the storm, seemed to get louder as some sort of argument broke out.

They didn't listen enough to get the details, just that someone was upset at another person for apparently missing a stun. Not a rare thing to get mad at, Two Time has been on the receiving end of someone's frustration many times.

Despite the survivors somewhat bonding with each other over the terrors they faced as a team, they still argued.

It never got physical, but hurtful words would be said, voices would raise in volume, and a door would be slammed shut. Most of the survivors would make peace quick, but other times.. not really.

Two Time could still recall the time Elliot gave someone the silent treatment for what they could assume was a week.. not the delivery man's best moment.

They rested their palms over the revealed skin of their knees, feeling the walls tremble with every roar of thunder, light flashing from outside the windows.

Eventually, after just.. listening for awhile, their eyelids began to lower, and they rested their arms across the table, using them as a sort of makeshift pillow.

The lobby was cold, their position wasn't comfortable, and they twitched whenever the storm got too loud, but it was better than resting near the others in the middle of an argument.

For a moment, they felt as if they could actually get some sleep. They were always exhausted after the adrenaline from rounds wore off, yet rarely gave in to the call of slumber.

The noise soon became distant, and everything went quiet as they slipped away from consciousness, into the most vulnerable state for a person.

They were pretty certain they wouldn't be harmed anyways.

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Chapter Text

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"Rain?! We've never had rain here," a glitchy voice complained, staring out at the thundering fall of droplets.

They pounded against the dirt, loud enough to almost hurt their ears. Lightning cracked somewhere across the water, angry and quick.

On the killer's island, weather typically stayed the same. Slightly humid, most of the time foggy, skies clear but dark.

Not once, in Azure's time here, has it changed this drastically.

His eyes widened, staying under the porch's cover, tentacles twitching behind him. He never expected this, wasn't sure it was even possible for this damned place, and when he turned to read the others' expressions they seemed to have thought the same.

Their shoulders raised, unsure of what to do next. The dirt was quickly transforming into mud, and it wasn't like any of them were willing to sprint out into the rain either.

Well, except for that demon kid. He seemed thrilled.

"Rain!" The thing yelled happily, tail wagging so fast it almost became a blurred shape. Azure's hand hovered nearby, ready to yank him back if he decided to run out.

From the window that large animal-like creature growled, ears back and tail swaying, so much like a cat you could convince Azure it actually was. He couldn't remember its name, Guest something?

Their eyes flickered from the cat creature back to c00lkidd, and from c00lkidd to 1x1x1x1.

"Ugh, gross," she groaned, immediately heading back inside, yet kindly left the door open for them. Probably the nicest thing he's ever done.

Azure's tentacles lowered, thinking. This was the first time a storm settled in their island ever, a storm so extreme they were certain it couldn't have arrived naturally. Back in the cult the weather- though it didn't change often-was never this severe.

Uh, stay inside. Right, that's what you do in a storm, you stay under shelter.

He reached out and gently grabbed the demon child's arm, nudging him away from the porch stairs and towards the open door, despite his disappointed whines. Just another reminder that the thing was but a young one, forced into this torment against his will.

He allowed a groan to escape his throat in place of words, and c00lkidd seemed to understand, somberly stepping through the door, guided by Azure's soft pushes.

He couldn't help but care for the creature, so unaware and innocent. Such a mind would've been praised in the cult. Though, Azure knew he couldn't truly be blameless.

All of them did something to end up here, purposefully or not. They'd all sinned and were punished for it.

Azure sighed, the air whistling through his zipped teeth as his hand slipped away from c00lkidd's limb, turning back towards the outside, staring at the few that still stayed on the porch, in the cold..

It was quite chilly, maybe they should spark up some wood in the fireplace. It was rarely used and probably had a pound of dust laying in it, but it would work.

Step by step, they'll all figure this out.

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Two Time was freezing.

Now to be fair, they were always freezing, but this time was different.

It sank into their bones, made their nerves go numb and blood go cold. It surrounded them, as if they'd been locked in a room made of ice.

And worst of all, it ruined their strangely peaceful rest. Their hands were trembling by the time they woke up, wincing at the bright light before them.

It took a bit for the memories to flood back in. Storm, set up, go unconscious. Yeah that's all they had, Two Time wasn't one to process well when tired.

They pushed themself upright, heart pounding in their chest, legs feeling unsteady as they slipped out from the booth.

It took awhile to get their balance, but they did make it to the fireplace, to find it mostly emptied. Thank Spawn, they didn't feel like talking.

Guest 1337 noticed them, because of course he did. The soldier had a specialty in noticing everything in everyone.

"Two Time?," he said their name so softly, like they weren't currently experiencing the stages of freezing to death, "you okay?"

The Spawnist sat by the fire, allowing the heat to melt away the chill in their veins, tail tapping against the wooden floorboards.

Guest 1337 frowned, watching them closely as they settled down, curled into themself for warmth. He knew Two Time ran colder than most of the survivors, matter of fact he'd given himself quite a scare when he first touched them skin to skin.

The silence was beginning to get concerning, and he opened his mouth to speak again, just to close it.

Two Time gave him a response, out of habit more than the desire to actually have conversation, but a response none the less.

"I am quite well, I apologize if you were worried," they assured, ears twitching beneath the clumps of raven-colored hair.

Guest 1337 hummed, rising from his seat on the couch, stepping beside the cultist and sitting down. He was a tad unnerved to see their expression on full display.

That wide, soul-less smile they rarely let fall, those dark eyes with flickers of blue and white. They were disturbing to look at, even more disturbing to actually talk with. He didn't blame Chance for being on edge around Two Time, but also, he'd talked with worse people during the war.

Two Time would've been in an analog horror were they not Forsaken.

They blinked, looking towards him with a tail flick, the rough material brushing against the soldier's leg. They watched as he moved his arm, offering them a spot at his side, warmth.

They considered it, really did, for a long while, and finally caved.

Two Time wordlessly moved closer, allowing their head to rest on Guest 1337's shoulder, feeling his hand rest on their knee.

Their tail tapped against the floor, almost like a cat's would when content, and though it was made of bone they didn't seem to be in any pain, so Guest let them continue.

He smiled, happy to see them relaxed, calm around others. Two Time was.. a special case, lacking knowledge in most things the rest of them would consider common sense.

The cult was to blame for that, keeping them isolated from the open world.

He just wished they weren't so stubborn in their beliefs. They all tried at least once to make Two Time see the truth, but they'd just shake their head and change the topic.

It was frustrating, to say the least.

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At some point they'd both fallen asleep, and Chance was the one to stumble upon the sight.

He'd gone downstairs to grab his gun, which he'd forgotten during the argument and unfortunately left it behind.

They remembered it being somewhere near an arm chair, but weren't exactly sure which one.

The sound of the floor squeaking made him wince, holding his breathe as he approached the soft glow produced by the fireplace.

They looked over the back of the couch and froze, eyes flickering towards the two figures sitting on the ground, trying to identify them without getting too close.

Now, he would consider himself great at remembering faces, but they weren't facing him, so that skill didn't uh- help much.

They sighed and slowly moved closer.

The scrape of a tail got their attention, breaking the quiet, earning a flinch from the gambler. His eyes snapped towards the pair, spotting the culprit.

Two Time, they should've recognized that sooner, but it was hard to see in the dim lighting. So the other must be Guest 1337, made sense.

He tried to be as silent as possible as he scanned the area for his weapon, finding it resting on a side table, unfortunately in dangerous territory.

Right beside Two Time, because of course it was.

They avoided boards they knew were loose, halting everytime they saw even the slightest movement, and questioned multiple times if this was even worth it.

It wasn't, but Chance had always liked pointless thrill.

A few steps and finally they reached their firearm, carefully grabbing it and looking to confirm he hadn't woken either of them up.

Both had their eyes closed, relaxed, leaning against each other. He was almost relieved, then felt something bump into his foot.

They glanced down, seeing Two Time's tail again, right against their shoe. Oh boy.

The cultist's tail was.. pretty sensitive, he'd seen them snap awake just because it brushed against furniture.

Well, he was screwed.

He held their breath, looking up at Two Time's form, going completely still.

Their eyes snapped open, glowing slightly in the dim lighting, looking up to meet Chance's gaze.

The gambler awkwardly waved, slightly startled by Two Time's unsettling appearance. Telamon, they were even worse in the dark. Damn shadow.

They relaxed once they scanned his face, tail sliding across the floor until it rested back at their side. They didn't move beyond that however, letting Chance off the hook this time.

He was eternally grateful for that, backing away as quick as possible, hurrying out of there.

He swore to himself he would never do that again, nuh uh, not in a million years. If something was by Two Time, it was theirs now, he didn't make the rules.

They let themselves breathe when they reached the top of the stairs, looking at the others, asleep in their respective corners.

Shedletsky was sprawled out on a beanbag, Elliot unconscious at his feet, the pizza man's visor falling off.

Taph wasn't far, sitting in front of the television, though it never actually played anything, just an image of.. a panda. They weren't moving, so he could guess the trapper was also resting.

Builderman was on the other beanbag, Veeronica charged in a corner, and everyone else was in their sleeping bags.

The gambler quietly stepped over stray limbs until he made it to his spot, sitting down, staring at the gun in his hands.

He just turned the safety on and set it at his feet, getting comfortable.

They hoped Two Time wouldn't bring it up in the morning, and knowing the cultist, they'd keep their lips sealed.

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