Archive of Our Own

“Are you asleep?” Rudo heard Regto walking over to the couch.

Rudo curled up smaller beneath the blanket. He began to realize just how thin this blanket really was as he saw dim light shining through it.

‘Hiding didn’t work? Now he wants me gone too.’ Rudo thought as he let the blanket slide off over his head. The world wasn’t too different, it was still dark. Though maybe Rudo could see bits of gray through it all.

“Kid? Are you okay?” The man asked. Rudo stayed silent, looking down at his bandaged hands. The pain was returning, but for now it was still manageable. “I wanna help you, is there anyway you can tell me how?”

Just as the man asked this an idea came to Rudo: ‘The less this man knows, the more difficult it will be to get rid of me.’

The more effort things take the quicker people will give up on them. That’s a human thing, something consistent between everyone Rudo had met.

People were twisting mounds of thoughts and contradictions. Try and figure out what makes them mad and you're wasting energy, because those things never stay the same.

'If they want something from you, then that’s trouble because you will fail. If they see you, that’s trouble. Because you’re an eyesore.

But if you disappear, if they forget about you…'

'Then you’re safe.'

Rudo stood up from the couch Regto backed up to give him space, watching confusedly.

Rudo stared blankly for a moment before pointing behind himself. Regto looked up at what Rudo was pointing at, within the same second Rudo took off in the opposite direction.

“Hey?”

Rudo heard a knock on the bathroom door. Rudo moved carefully, stepping away from the sound. He climbed into the bathtub, the one place furthest from view. Once Rudo was inside he slowly closed the shower curtain, lied down flat on his back, and held his breath.

“Hey. Are you alright? Kid?”

The man called out.

Rudo lied very still. Trying to at least slow his breathing when holding his breath became too difficult.

“Can I get any sign that you're okay?”

The man knocked again.

In the past, on her good days -she- never bothered to call Rudo, especially not more than once. Rudo tried to guess what kind of day it was for Regto.

He was insistent as he knocked on the door, so was he angry?

Rudo stayed silent.

“Alright, I'm sorry but. I’m opening the door.”

Not even a second after he said that the shower curtain swung open.

Rudo sat up quickly, taking in the air he restricted from his lungs. In his movement Rudo stumbled forward into the shower dial, it turned on, and in that instant Rudo was soaked in cold water.

Regto had known this child for hardly a few hours, maybe longer if he decided that sleeping under the same roof counted as knowing each other. Yet somehow the first sound Regto hears from this Child was a cry of displeasure akin to an angry kitten getting wet.

Regto nearly had the heart to laugh if the Child didn’t look so furious.

Regto reached forward hoping to turn the water off, but the Child immediately became defensive. The kid bit down on Regto’s hand, before Regto could try to back away the Child shoved past him running out the bathroom door.

“Damn!” Regto said as he held his hand. It hurt, but he supposed it wasn’t that bad.

“It’s just a kid, it’s just a kid.” Regto repeated. He needed to be reasonable, no matter how frustrating it was, he needed to remember he couldn’t fight with a Child. Regto shut the water off then sat at the edge of the bathtub.

“Who did I just stumble upon..?” Regto sighed as he rubbed at the bite marks on his hand. That Child was rather vicious, nearly having drawn blood.

‘This Child has been through hell.’ This was Regto’s first thought when saw the Child. It was the only explanation for having eyes so similar to his own. hollow, fading, and waiting.

Such a small thing standing out in the rain. All alone within the dark unlit streets, staring up at a pitch black sky. A Child whose blood dripped down his tiny hands. Layers of skin torn or burned away.

Tried to heal but failed,

Tried to heal, but torn away again.

It was no accident. No accident leads to that.

What kind of mind does it take to scar a child?

Not like Regto knew, not like he could assume anything either.

Regto wiped the droplets of water off his hair, and wrung the excess water out of the front of his shirt. It had gotten partially soaked when the water turned on. He hummed an “oh well,” then realized calm had finally returned to him.

The only thing Regto did know was what a scared child looked like. The way the kid hid from him, bit him, all were just his ways of survival. Maybe because Regto mentioned his parents?

If Regto was in that situation he would likely try running away and surviving on his own. Stupidly, but that's what fear does to a person. This Child was doing everything in his power not to leave, and it wasn’t because the kid expected to be taken care of.

Regto stepped out of the bathroom.

His apartment was small, so there were hardly any places for someone to hide. Regto made a guess and opened his bedroom door, (a guess that had totally nothing to do with the trail of water leading to the door.) and Lo and behold Regto had located the Child.

That Child. Hidden beneath the only other blanket Regto owned. As well as everything else Regto had left on his deflated air mattress of a bed.

Seeing that the kid was okay for the most part, Regto decided to leave it at that.

He knew that the both of them needed time to think things through. Besides what could Regto do? drag the Child out kicking and screaming? That hurt Regto too much to even imagine.

Regto waddled over to the kitchen. He hadn’t thought about food once all morning. The only thing on his mind was getting this kid back with his parents. But it was obvious that wasn't a simple thing at all.

He wished he thought a bit harder to realize that sooner.

Too late for that, now the next step was making sure the Child was fed.

Regto opened his fridge, hoping that there was still some left overs and ingredients from the last time he restocked. And there was!

Technically-

Or the container of what used to be pasta was now a new ecosystem. It looked like it must've been in there for centuries for new life to grow like this.

Regto threw it away. Damning the creatures that just reached the industrial age.

There were a few more things in there, similar in evolution.

He thought ‘Wow it’s like an entire biological warfare lab!’ 

He could hardly guess what most of those foods used to be.

Regto probably hadn’t even opened the fridge in at least a month. All he’s done lately was work. And when it came to food he relied on whatever they gave out at his job. 

He may buy takeout sometimes, but that was once in a millennia.

There was no hope in finding anything edible in his war zone of a fridge.

That’s that- Regto was forced to do the unthinkable!

Cook his own meal.

Regto sighed as he pulled out an old pot from beneath the sink.

There might have been a layer of dust…

But Regto washed the pot and summoned all of his faith in his own cooking skills.

“I got this.” Regto encouraged himself as he rummaged through all his cabinets. The most he could find was some uncooked rice. He poured it in the pot and filled it up to the brim with water and hoped that would work.

“Now we wait…” Regto said as he stared at the pot.

After ten minutes Regto checked the rice only to realize the stove had been off the entire time. Regto couldn’t find it in him to be frustrated at that.

Beyond that mishap, cooking seemed real easy. It had been a long while since Regto had so much downtime. He had a long list of people he knew he should probably call. Maybe he could ask someone for advice on his- situation. Whether business or pleasantries he had no excuse not to.

Well no excuse for himself anyway. Suddenly finding himself with a child was more than enough of an excuse to disappear for a little while for anyone who asked.

Now that he was thinking about that situation again he realized just how clueless he was. He couldn’t take care of a child.

He’s lucky to have enough paid time off for today but beyond that he had no time to raise a- toddler? Regto guessed the Child was no older than five years since they were so small.

But he had no idea. 

More reason to why he was incapable of raising them.

Regto realized he forgot to wash the rice…

‘It’ll be fine.’ 

Regto reassured himself. After an hour or so he fluffed up the rice and tried it.

“Yeah that’s edible.” Regto said, putting it on a plate and heading to his room.

The Child still lay as a bundle of everything Regto had left on his bed, even that book Regto had been wanting to finish.

It sat at the very top of the pile. He decided to ignore the fact he saw the bookmark for it on the floor and approached.

“Hey…” Regto called, he tried to keep his voice as gentle as possible.

He never had to do that before.

Suddenly all the nervousness he was ignoring punched him in the gut. Regto spent his social life demanding respect. He spoke strongly, firmly, confidently. He perfected his smiles and social boundaries, he learned to read rooms, and read people.

But children were different. Usually a child has no reason to hide or mask so there isn’t anything to read. Just don’t make them cry and it’s fine. Even when a child learns that they need to, they will have no way of knowing how.

And this child had been learning how.

“I have some food here. For you.” Regto said as he knelt on the floor right before the deflated air mattress. He saw as the Child stir beneath their shield of fabric.

“I hope you're listening…” Regto said slowly. “We’re strangers to each other, yet here we are under the same roof. And it’s confusing.” As Regto spoke he felt another wave of nervousness rise. 

He had no idea if what he was saying was right. He couldn’t sit there in silence, or back out and write a script, so he continued.

“I’m confused, and I feel like you might be too. So let’s figure things out together.”

He reached out with a steady hand taking the book off the top of the pile. He held it like it was the most delicate thing in the world, placing the plate down beside him. He tried to rub the crease out of the page, but seeing as there was no hope he closed it gently and set it aside.

He saw the Child stir once more.

“I’ve seen a lot. All the things wrong with people, it’s such a long list that we can spend a lifetime naming it all.” Regto began.

It would be easier to stay in his place, and not pretend he was some kind of guardian or source of comfort to this Child. His words didn’t come out easy, but it felt worse to say nothing.

“People will always try to hurt us, there’s someone like that in every corner.” Regto reached out again, pulling his white jacket off the pile.

“And there isn’t really shit we can do about it, except learn to live again.” After Regto said all that he huffed a breath. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be swearing.” He sighed as he reached for that final layer.

The most Regto could hope for was that he was doing right by this Child. He didn’t wanna cross any lines, he hardly realized how much fear this Child brought him. Like it was shared between them.

Regto thought maybe he lost his edge, got too soft over the years and let a stranger bring him fear in his own home. But he couldn’t think like that for long. Not when determination bubbled beneath that fear. Like he was the only one who could save them both from it.

Regto slowly tore away that final layer, the thin and worn blanket. The Child’s trembles had never stopped. Not until their eyes had met the light. He froze, lying on his side, his wet hair soaking everything around him.

He was curled up with his clenched fingers close to his chin. His bandages were peeling off from being wet. The raw redness of his bare muscles out in the open air.

Regto was gonna say something but the Child regained his senses before he could. Sitting up quickly scurrying away towards the wall on instinct.

“Are you alright?” Regto asked. He tried to wear a smile but he couldn’t muster one.

Regto could see the Child think over a million choices. As each choice glazed over his eyes the fear grew larger.

Each choice ended in death.

As the Child’s breathing hitched so did Regto’s but as he realized he took a deep breath.

Regto backed away. Leaving the plate behind.

The child seemed more conflicted the further Regto got, so he slipped out of the room leaving the door cracked.

He listened out, hearing the Child scuffling over to the plate. Regto worried how the Child would eat with his hands the way they were.

‘Did his parents feed him in the past? Did he have parents or had he been living out in rainy nights alone?’

‘What had happened to make him so afraid?

Who did what?'

Regto needed names.

But what would that do? What that Child needed was a home. He hardly had anything but an empty fridge and an air mattress. It wasn’t the type of environment any child should be under, especially since he’s usually busy working everyday.

Should he call the police? Send out a missing child report? But if he did, would whatever shitty parents he might have show up?

Regto didn’t wanna risk that.

Regto peeked through the gap in the door. The child was bundled up in his blanket, back under his shield, sitting upright against the wall nearest Regto’s closet. Though the plate was empty. Regto was glad of that.

Even if Regto couldn’t do much, he wanted to do more. He quietly slipped away towards the front door, grabbing his wallet and keys before leaving the apartment.

He won’t be gone for long.

It was quiet, was that how life was now?

Silent..

No yells? No slams? No cars?

So quiet Rudo could hear his own heartbeat. He had forgotten he had one.

Rudo lifted the blanket off over his head, the sunlight falling over his eyes. It stung but it felt nice in a way.

Everything was weird.

Silent like the darkness, but bright like heaven.

What made this place feel so dark before was gone now, and so was that man. Even though that was the only thing that changed Rudo could tell he wasn’t the issue.

How could he be? Rudo knew his name now. He couldn’t be bad if he told Rudo his name.

Rudo has heard plenty of names. But those names never had a face. Regto was the only person Rudo met with a name.

“Mom” and “Dad” weren’t names. But they had a face to them, or at least “Mom” did.

Rudo wanted to know his Mothers name. He wasn’t really sure why. But he wanted her name more than his fathers, since he was faceless.

And that someone who gave him the name Rudo. He wants their name, whoever that was. a vague memory, but one that smelled different from his Mothers.

It didn’t matter because it wasn’t possible, there wasn’t anything but darkness outside anyway. Rudo was glad that this home revealed itself to him, even if it wasn't his own.

He reached forward, regretting that as the movement sent strikes of pain down his arm.

Glancing at his hand, he could see the redness, the layers of tissue, and peeling skin. in some areas it hurt intensely and in others he felt nothing, not even numbness.

Though the only times he could think to realize he wasn’t feeling anything was when it hurt worse somewhere else.

The sting of a slap, lessened the pain only a bit.

Only for a second.

A punch? Well she wasn't good at that. Rudo hadn't been in many fights other than with her. Strangers were awful, even if the pain made him forget about his hands it felt way worse. A stranger's animosity would always be more dangerous then a Mothers hate.

Because there is love behind a Mothers slap. A stranger wants you to die.

This man, Regto, was weird for a stranger. Rudo had expected to die by now.

Rudo stood up from his cocoon of blankets, he was careful that his arms didn't brush against anything but the bandages that dangled off his arms struck him like sandpaper to foam. He watched as they fell to the ground.

Rudo glanced down the hall, peeked into the bathroom and kitchen.

Rudo was alone, so who was gonna hurt him and make the pain lessen? Will that man come back?

If he did, Rudo was sure he was just gonna cast him into the darkness. Like Mama did.

And dad?

Who was he?

Was he nicer than her? Or meaner?

It didn’t matter.

There was nothing.

Except for this place, and there was something interesting about it. Though Rudo wasn’t sure what it was.

The most interesting room was the one that he had lay in before. Back when he was hiding and never got a good look around. He could finally notice that there was something odd about it.

It wasn’t really a “thing,” More like a feeling.

Looking for what that “feeling” was Rudo walked to the closet. It was one of those small ones with a sliding door. They were annoying but not as bad as ones that you have to use the handle for.

Rudo slid the door open with his foot and it folded against the wall. High above him he could see the clothes hung up there. Rudo carelessly reached up. Regret banged down his arm from within his muscles as they tensed too close to inflamed skin.

Seeing there was no way to grab what he wanted. Rudo bit down on the end of whatever was closest and shook it until it fell. It was the best he could do without hands. It appeared to be a big sweater with a hood.

Rudo liked this sweater.

The color was nice. It was muted, less difficult to guess what it was supposed to be.

Because it was gray.

Not some red pretending to be green, or any other color Rudo couldn’t guess.

It was simple, gray, and honest.

Rudo bit the hoodie by the sleeve dragging it to the pile on the ground. Rudo could see the closet had suits that Rudo felt uneasy looking at. It reminded him of something that made him nauseous. So Rudo slid the door closed with his foot before returning to his pile.

There was something else that interested Rudo. On the desk was a book with a unique cover. Rudo could hardly see it, as it was out of his reach. He thought that maybe he could bring a chair over but without the use of his hands it’d be impossible.

Maybe not impossible but too much effort for him right now. That item would have to remain a mystery then.

Denied.

Rudo wandered off to another room. There weren't many places to go, even though everything felt so new and large, it was still just a one bedroom apartment.

Rudo entered the bathroom. The light came in differently than before. Rudo knew this room wouldn't be as nice at night time at all. You wouldn't be able to the see dust particles in the air, or see the light shine through the shower curtain

Darkness really sucked.

Rudo looked into the shower. His hair was still damp from before. He reached over to the faucet before realizing he shouldn't do that, on account of his hands.

Denied.

Rudo glanced into the kitchen, but everything was too high up for him to see. So Rudo sulked back to the room.

Denied.

He couldn’t bundle himself in those blankets,

Denied.

He couldn’t do anything.

Denied.

Those hands were useless weights stapled to his side. And what sucked about staying still is that his hands hurt worse with nothing to distract from it.

But there was no way to search for distraction without the use of hands.

Denied.

Still Rudo didn't move. Had that man- Regto- left him? Rudo couldn't be surprised, Mama said in the past that no one would take care of him. That she was the one burdened with it. Because of- something?

She freed herself from that burden though. So Rudo became an anchor to someone else. That man will rid himself of the burden. That’s just how people are.

Maybe he already did.

As Rudo curled up he felt his own breath brush against his arm and he felt he may die. The air felt no better than a serrated blade. He wish he had something like that, that way he could cut them off and be done with it. 

As Rudo tried not to react to the pain, he listened to his own trembling and shaking. Suddenly jerking his head back into the wall behind him.

He did it again, slowly rocking forward then back again. Somewhere between the bangs he realized that he couldn’t even move his arms anymore. They really became weights to his side. Numb but still in pain..? How was that fair?

Aching, buzzing, stabbing, radiating around slabs of meat.

Rudo stood, dashing through the door.

move.

Just move

'Get rid of the pain at any cost.'

The reason Regto left was because he seriously needed to go shopping. With no food in the house, or much of anything, he knew it had to be done.

He wanted to mainly get this kid a change of clothes.

‘What kinda clothes would he want anyway? Also I should get some burn medicine. How old is this kid? Does he need formula? Wait, no that's for newborns.’ Regto began to list things in his head before he realized he was overthinking.

He estimated that the Child must’ve been 5 or 6 considering how tiny he was. So Regto tried to get clothes for around that age range, and maybe a few things larger. Easy and simple.

Food? Something precooked. Regto got enough for himself as well.

A Child wandering the streets like that.. there's probably a missing Child report on him. Unless it happened too recently or his parents didn’t care enough to report their child missing.

If this Child truly had no one, could Regto take care of him?

How? 

Regto could hardly take care of himself… Living off leftovers and a fridge as dangerous as a lab for genetic mutations.

He couldn’t decide just yet…

Regto see’s some pop tarts on the shelf and decides- Hell yeah.

When Regto sees how full his cart is he realizes he may have gone overboard. But he couldn't decide on what he’s going to have to leave behind. So he slowly rolled to the register.

“Ohhh are you having a baby?” The cashier asked.

“Uhh not exactly-” Regto began but seeing the cashiers questionable expression he veered off.

“It’s for my- sister.. she’s having twins..” Regto lied. Why that was the lie he came up with he wasn’t sure.

Regto got out there quickly and started heading home. Worried for the Child he had left alone.

When he got there he hauled as many bags as he could to the door.

When Regto walked inside his heart dropped.

A lamp was on the ground shattered, clothes and blankets were strewn all over.

The Child was on the ground amidst the mess. 

Trembling.

“Hey are you okay!?” Regto threw himself to the Child's side who was on the ground shaking, and cramming his hands into his chest. Regto reached out but the Child growled at him. Afraid of being bitten, Regto retracted his hand.

Glass shards from a plate stuck into the Child's arm, all Regto wanted was to brush them away.

‘This was a Child. What is there to be afraid of?’

The Child was unfazed by the glass or the scrapes, the pain he felt stemmed from his hands.

“What’s happening?” Regto asked, he hoped the Child would understand that Regto wanted to help.

The Child looked over at Regto calculatingly.

“What can I do?” Regto asked.

The Child crawled closer to Regto, and Regto mistook that as a sign of compliance. Hardly managing to avoid being bitten directly. The Child had clamped his jaw down on the inner arm of Regto’s sleeve.

The trembling didn't stop, Regto could feel the shakes as if they were his own. Through his arm all the way to his skull.

“It's okay,” Regto whispered. He brought the Child closer with his other arm, as he did he felt the bite lighten. Regto rubbed the Child’s back slowly until he let go and rested his chin on Regto’s arm.

Regto heard small sniffles from the Child, the only thing holding him up was Regto.

They both sat on the ground among the wreckage. Regto couldn’t see the kid's face but he imagined his expression was as still as his body, the only movement Regto saw from him was the micro spasms of his arms and the droplets of tears that fell.

Regto reached out to wipe his tears away, and the Child let him. Regto lifted him up and brought him to the bathroom. The Child didn’t react to anything, just stayed still and let it all happen.

Regto brought in the bags of things he bought, washcloths, new clothes, and child safe soap. He ran the washcloth under warm water and brought it to the Child’s face wiping away the dried blood and dirt. 

As Regto did this he analyzed every bruise and scrape, years of neglect present on his young skin. Regto could hold the Child's entire face in a single hand. That means someone looked upon such a small thing and decided to send a fist towards it. 

Regto tried not to allow his anger to reflect on his face but as he realized the Child hair was matted, he never felt angrier.

No matter how useless of an adult this child’s parents were, could they not even cut their kids hair If brushing it was too damn difficult? 

Regto realized he was just assuming that this kid had parents, for all he knew the Child was in his own care by the time Regto found him. But that didn’t explain the bruising, or his hands.

The Child hid away from Regto, looking down towards the ground trying not to make eye contact. 

“No… sorry. I’m not mad.” Regto said.

he reached out again slowly trying to lift the Child's face. 

The Child flinched…

Regto didn’t know what to say. 

He felt himself drop in front of where the Child sat on the bathtub's edge. Kneeling, looking up at the Child's fearful face.

Regto wanted to be calm, strong, focused, reliable, not whatever he was right now. 

Not a crying mess before a broken child. 

Regto held his own face trying to hide the tears but he had no idea how, he’s never been like this before. 

But somewhere between the crying he started laughing.

‘I’ve never wanted to kill someone so badly before.’ He thought then chuckled, and he had no idea who that person even was. Regto could probably find out, look around the area where he found the Child…

He realized that didn’t matter.

It’s easy to harm, but all his attention should be on trying to help.

“Sorry, sorry!” He choked, and wiped at his face trying to breathe steadily.

The child looked down at him with familiarity. 

Those red eyes had never looked more human.

Once Regto was done helping the kid clean up, he dressed him in the clothes he had bought. Most of the struggle came from getting his arms through the sleeves, but once that hurdle was over the Child seemed to regain his senses.

“Are you-?” Regto began to ask but the Child walked out of the bathroom. Regto smiled and followed after.

The Child sat on the ground in front of the couch and Regto went and sat beside him.

The kid jerked away, as his hands curled towards his chest.

Regto grabbed another one of the bags, and brought out the medicine and bandages. The Child had hardly any energy to fight and Regto could feel the fear radiating off of him.

Regto moved slowly and carefully as he applied the medicine. Any small bit of contact got an extreme reaction out of the Child, and it took far longer than necessary to have his hands properly wrapped. 

But Regto was gentle so the Child would know Regto wasn’t trying to hurt him.

He had no idea if it was working or not.

But things began to slow down and the Child’s fear subsided.

Regto placed the blanket over both of their laps. After he did he brought over another one of the bags. 

Regto grabbed the box of pop tarts and opened one of the packages, breaking a small piece off one of them reaching out to feed the Child. Regto figured it’d be a moment before the medicine kicked in.

‘may as well entertain.’ 

Regto hoped they were over that hurdle of biting, but he realized he was wrong when the Child bit one of his fingers.

Regto hoped they were over that hurdle of biting, but he realized he was wrong when the Child bit one of his fingers. 

“Ow,” Regto said as he looked at the child calmly, it hardly hurt and he could’ve just stayed silent, but he didn’t want the kid to think biting didn’t hurt him. Even if his reaction did come out subdued. 

The child glanced up at Regto expecting- something?

Seeing Regto not react he looked away.

“What does biting mean to you?” Regto asked. He didn’t expect the Child to speak, though in a way he hoped he would get an answer. The question got the Child’s attention for half a second but he looked away again.

Regto got another pop tart, a larger piece this time to put some distance from biting range. The child didn't fuss and lightly took a bite of the pop tart, rather absentmindedly. In the matter of seconds his face shifted. wide eyes, and a small gasp.

The Child reached out towards Regto,

he needed those pop tarts.

Regto grabbed the rest of the pop tart, handing it over as he didn’t want to get bitten again. the Child devoured it in an instant. Regto figured his hands must be feeling a bit better as he didn’t hesitate to reach out for the rest.

Regto mildly regretted giving this child sweets. But couldn’t help but laugh at his silly yet amazed expression. Though he hid one of the pop tarts for himself, the kid actually looked sadder than ever to see the sweets gone.

“Hey, at least now I know something that you like.” Regto said. Rudo looked back at Regto.

—

And he remembered something.

‘I’ve never told anyone my name.’  He thought. Maybe that was what he’s been missing. He was nameless to everyone, his mother, this man, and here he was acting entitled.

Rudo looks Regto dead in the eyes. Distracting Regto from whatever it was he was saying.

“Rudo.” The child said, mumbling.

“What?” Regto asked. Surprised, as he never expected to hear words from this Child. and as the kid remained silent slinking underneath the blankets, he didn’t expect to hear more from him anytime soon.