Chapter Text
Flame used to consider his life good.
He had good grades, a decent family, and many hobbies to pass the time. He didn’t struggle with money, and people looked to him as someone strong, someone always trying to push through what was hard. Even if he operated independently, he still had a few acquaintances. So yeah, his life was pretty good.
Key word: was, used to.
That opinion changed the day that car ran over Mane.
—
Flame remembers the accident like it was yesterday, the two of walking home together in the overcast weather.
Mane never needed to walk home in the first place, being a freshmen in college. He still did it anyways, something about wanting to make sure Flame got home safe. Their family held a reputation. Flame never questioned it too hard; it had become routine by the time he even realized it.
With their parents never home, Flame’s safety fell into Mane’s hands. The lion hybrid was barely 16 when they first started leaving, Flame barely being 13. The two, at first, thought they would be home fast.
That belief was quickly dismantled.
Now Mane has to protect his little brother, even if it costs more than he should give. That was the kind of person he was. He was giving, but firm. He would teach Flame things, but had expectations since it was his own time he was giving up.
Mane was the star of the track team, though he dabbled in pretty much any sport you could think of. In high school, everyone viewed him as unbeatable; the fastest of them all. As much as Flame found it corny, speed truly was his specialty.
He believed it was until they got to one of the busy streets, Merchant Lane.
Cars sped through the area, barely regarding the signs about pedestrians. The crime rate was always high in Unstable City. Flame barely remembers why he went across first, why he let this incident happen in the first place.
It was something about making it a race. Mane was so busy with his classes and training Wemmbu that the two would barely go out together anymore. He hated to admit it, but he got jealous watching Mane train Wemmbu while he was right there. Mane was hesitant, but agreed.
10.45 seconds was his time.
He stopped Mane’s at 35 minutes and 18 seconds. That’s how long it took for his brother to be rushed away.
The second Mane had stepped into the center of the road, a car sped through. The driver was clearly distracted, and collided with Mane after just 3 seconds of him in the road. He remembers it clearly, how a scream escaped him, how Mane just stood there, frozen. He remembers it all.
Speed was his specialty. He could run the fastest out of anyone at their school. He could win any competition he wanted. Yet when it mattered the most? He froze up. His head was turned at the car as the lights grew closer. Then a blur of oranges and yellows scattered around.
Then suddenly the road was stained with red.
He doesn’t remember what came after, the world faded in and out in a blur of red and blue lights and sirens. Flame’s mind felt so silent, yet that silence felt loud. It felt loud to stare blankly at the form of his big brother’s mangled body on the street. The car had driven away after the hit. His brother, his strong and confident brother, was reduced to a victim of a hit and run.
There was a tear in the blindfold from where his head collided with the ground. He could barely make out Mane’s eye, shut and bleeding. He was surrounded by gore. The sight wasn’t as new as you’d think it would be. He’s been in countless fights and never lost a single one. He was used to standing over everyone in this way, staring down at their injured form. He was used to staring at everyone like this, except for Manepear.
His brother was strong and proud; tall in every way. Sure, he could be a bit cocky, but wasn’t everyone? Mane should be in every position but this one.
Flame’s mind blurred together into a gory painting of what was now his reality. He vaguely remembers someone coming up to him. He wore some sort of dark blue scrubs, one that Flame didn’t know how to identify. He’s only 15. He should be spending his time hanging out with Lomedy, not studying scrubs for the day something horrible happened.
Flame just assumed he was a doctor.
The man looked serious, though there was softness in his gaze. Flame remembers that he introduced himself, but the name is lost in his mind. His skin was a shade of black with eyes that are purely white. A voidling maybe? He doesn’t know.
The man spoke to him, but he couldn’t hear any of it. All he knew is that he was crying and maybe his breathing was a little too fast, but he couldn’t think coherently enough to tell. Time passed and the man guided him away from the scene. Away from his brother who was being put into an ambulance.
Flame wishes he could’ve gone on it with Mane. He didn’t want to be alone.
Surprisingly, he wasn’t. This person stayed by him. Flame doesn’t remember much of what happened after, but he recognizes that every time he got shaky, someone was next to him. That someone drove him to the hospital, where he sat for 3 days until he was told Mane’s condition was stable. He was put into a medically induced coma.
Flame was told to go home, but how? How could he abandon his own brother like that?
In his time waiting, the kind man would occasionally drop by and make sure Flame was alright. He would offer him food and water when he could. Flame came to realize the man worked in the hospital and was getting off his shift when the accident occurred. How nice.
What wasn’t nice was the state he was in.
His dreads were starting to get tangled together and greasy, he hadn’t changed in days, and the fur on his tail and ears was matted and all over the place. Eventually he realized he should go home; he could always come back right after.
That’s what his routine became.
Stay in the hospital waiting, go home once or twice a day, shower, change, eat, groom, return. It was tiring. Sleeping in hospital chairs isn’t comfortable and only made him feel worse.
Then he was promised something. The man said he would call if anything changed with Mane. He promised Flame he would immediately notify him and pick him up. Flame believed him—he was too tired not to.
—
It has now been a week since that day. Flame’s mom called and told him he needs to go back to school. Of course, they only care when he’s missing too much, not the fact he is alone and trying to exist knowing his brother might die.
Regardless of how he felt, he knew he had to go back eventually. His phone has started blowing up more the longer he’s been gone. This absence is unusual for him; he’s rarely ever sick. That doesn’t matter though, all that matters in this moment is the fact that Mane hasn’t died yet.
He drags himself out of his bed, silently mourning the warmth. Flame moves to his bathroom, brushing his teeth and combing through his fur. It almost feels normal.
After he changes and throws his clothes into the hamper, he heads down to the kitchen.
“Morning, Mane.” Flame mumbles, his voice rough with sleep. He gets no response.
Oh right. Mane is in a coma.
His ears lower just a fragment at the thought. Way to ruin his day. Whatever, he has places to be.
Flame makes a piece of toast, putting butter and jam onto it. At least he’s started to get his appetite back; he couldn’t eat very well the first few days due to the gory sight haunting every bite he took. He eats the toast as slow as he can, dragging every bite out. He doesn’t want to get to school early, doesn’t want to handle the questions or concerned looks he is already expecting.
The food tastes flavorless in his mouth.
“It’s fine,” Flame thinks out loud, “I’ll make it differently tomorrow.”
If he thinks ahead, he doesn’t need to think of today.
Flame walks out of the house, starting the journey to school. If he changed the route he took, almost making him late, he pretends he didn’t.
As the building approached, Flame felt nothing but exhaustion. He should be by Mane’s side, not back here. He doesn’t want to think about what has happened, but he doesn’t want to ignore it. A sigh slips past his lips, tail flicking behind him as he stepped inside.
The hallways are quieter than normal, most people already inside of their classes. Flame quickly made his way to his first class of the day. He could already feel people staring at him. He ignored anyone who called his name, not even stopping to spare the person a glance. These people don’t know anything. He’s been sick, if anyone asks.
He walked past Wemmbu, expecting a sarcastic comment. Maybe a joke about how the “immortal demon” got sick. Instead, he got nothing but a glare and a scoff. Huh. Bad day, maybe? Whatever. Wemmbu can keep his secrets.
He ignores the look Egg gives him, not even attempting to decipher the emotions behind it. He sees a hint of pity and that’s all Flame needs to move on with his day.
He makes it through the first two classes just fine. All of them are a mess of people asking what happened and why he was gone. They are just formalities that he pays no mind to. People can whisper all they want, he will never tell them about the week he just had.
Third period comes faster than he’d like. He forgot about something. He hasn’t said a word to Lomedy since before… That.
“Yo, Flame!” Lomedy calls out, rushing to stand next to him. Lomedy’s gaze is softened by concern, his tail lightly swishing. At least Lomedy is happy to see him again.
“Hey, Loms,” Flame responds. His voice feels dull even to his own ears.
That concern returns to his expression more clearly, his head tilting just an inch to the side as he flicks his ear, “What’s wrong? Where have you been?”
It’s clear Lomedy is trying to keep the mood light. Flame doesn’t have it in him to give him some enthusiastic lie.
“Just out sick,” Flame says with a small shrug, but it’s wrong. Flame shouldn’t be small in this way. He’s supposed to be confident in himself, a perfect reflection of his brother but better. Lomedy sighs and gives Flame a look.
“If you say so, bro. Just message me back next time,” Flame swears he sees hurt cross Lomedy’s face. He feels bad, but it isn’t worth it. He can’t bring himself to spill to anyone about what has happened in this past week.
“I will, promise.” He replies genuinely. Lomedy exhales, knowing that’s all he can do. No matter how much he wants to help Flame, he can’t do anything if Flame keeps denying it. Flame knows that. That’s why he keeps denying it; he shouldn’t be needing that help.
Needing someone is what got Mane put into a coma.
Flame’s ear involuntarily twitches at the thought. Lomedy notices it and gives him a look. Flame forces a weak smile. He can feel the disappointment radiating off of him as he sighs. Guilt pangs at him once again, but he brushes it off. He can’t feel guilty about everything in his life.
“Lets just go sit down.” Flame says as he starts walking. He hears Lomedy call out for him, but he doesn’t wait. He needs out of there right now. Maybe he just doesn’t feel like talking.
He is about to go and sit down, until he bumps into someone. Oh great, looks like he’s the luckiest fucking person alive.
“My bad, bro,” Flame mutters, ear flicking as he looks up at who he ran into.
ParrotX2. Of fucking course, the one person he wanted to see right now.
“All good-” Parrot starts before pausing, clearly analyzing Flame, “Flame, you’re back?”
Flame has never been more happy to wear a blindfold, he can feel his eye twitch, “Yeah bro, was sick. I’m better now though.” He lies, putting on a small, forced smile. Parrot stares at him skeptically.
“You sure?” Parrot asks, folding his wings back, “You seem a bit… Tense.”
“I’m fine. Probably some effect of the cold,” Flame tries to shrug it off. He knows Parrot doesn’t believe him. Parrot actually tries to look at how people feel rather than accept everything as fact. As much as it can be helpful, it can also cause issues like this. He doesn’t want to be pressed about it. He doesn’t want to think about
Parrot stares at him, then sighs. He dealt with Wifies manipulating him for months on end, he could spot a liar from miles away. Flame’s entire body was tense, and his tiger ears did him no help in hiding them. They twitch in a specific way that’s only done when agitated. There’s more to it. He heard about some chaos along Merchant Lane, something about an accident? Isn’t that on the route Flame takes home? Flame stopped coming to school after that too.
Huh.
“I know you’re lying, bro. You don’t have to-” Parrot tries to start.
“I’m not lying, how about you go and mind your own business-” Flame cuts him off with a hiss, ears flattening and fangs baring. Parrot flinches back just barely at the suddenly aggression. That’s how he knows he is right.
Parrot is about to make a comment back when Lomedy rushes up to them, staring at Flame in concern. He looks at Parrot apologetically, “Flame, stop that-! Sorry about him.” Lomedy lightly scolds, expression softening. Parrot brushes it off as Flame walks away again.
He doesn’t want these people psychoanalyzing his every movement. He doesn’t want them to know for a reason! Lomedy is following behind him again after a moment, yet he doesn’t care. He walks over to a desk and sits down, barely even recognizing the way his tail lashes behind him. He’s done with these people pretending they know him, like they know what happened.
The next class goes by in a blur.
Then the next one.
Then the next one.
He’s too busy wondering about what could be happening. His thoughts drift every time he thinks he has control of them.
The teaching of chemistry is happening, but all of the things being taught sound like nothing. They’re just words filling an otherwise empty room. Flame doesn’t understand a single concept being taught. He knows he’s falling behind, yet he doesn’t care. It all feels pointless without anyone actually there.
Flame knows his house is going to be empty when he’s home. There isn’t going to be any ranting on the walk back to his house, just more silence in a house where he barely exists. His parents aren’t going to be home. They never are. They’re too busy living to remember the fact that they have to be there for their children. That never hurt Flame until now, until the only other person who understood was taken from him.
Mane isn’t dead, why is he acting like he’s dead?
A sigh escapes his lips as he puts his head down. He doesn’t care about the murmurs or gossip. He cares about how quickly everything he knew is going down the drain. Once calm mornings became filled with nightmares of permanent loneliness. They became filled with withered roses and dead animals. It felt like even his own thoughts were making fun of him. He can’t even find peace in his head.
Even if he feels trapped, the world is still turning around him. The world is still turning and Mane is still alive.
Reality comes back to him as a gentle hand shakes his shoulder. He pulls his head up, only to be greeted by Mrs. Squiddo. Did he fall asleep? Was class over?
She seems to read his thoughts, gently shaking her head. Others are staring at him and it feels like too much already, “Flame? The office called, go upstairs.” Squiddo says quietly. Kids erupt into murmurs, probably already coming up with some insane rumor about his life.
He nods and gets up, grabbing his bag and shoving his notebook in there. There’s nothing written anyways, why should he be gentle? Flame pushes his chair in and starts to immediately go for the door just to escape that noise that seems to constantly surround him. Despite himself, he glances back to Lomedy.
Lomedy looks at him with concern. That’s all he needs to see before walking out of the door and straight to the office.
What did he even do? He hasn’t been here in the last week. Those thoughts plague his head on the silent journey. Each step feels too tall and the walk feels long. Despite that, it feels way too quick that he is standing outside of the doors to the main office. He can make out two figures. One stands, the other sits.
This reminds him of when Mane used to pick him up early from school for fun. Sometimes he would show up, pull him from his classes, then take him to get ice cream. Those days were his favorite. There were no expectations, no drama to deal with, just him and his big brother having fun together. Flame misses Mane like he is already gone.
Right. He has to go in.
Flame hesitantly pushes the door open and steps inside, tail already loosely looping around his calf. Inside stands that man from the hospital. He looks at Flame and gives a small smile, “Flame.” He greets with a single nod. The woman sitting waves dismissively to get them to leave.
He looks at the stranger and the way he begins to walk out.
Flame follows without hesitation.
The walk out of the building is silent, the voidling leading the way and Flame observing quietly. They make it to his car, one Flame has been in a few times now. He doesn’t know this person’s name, but they must be an angel. He still has one question.
“Sir?” Flame quietly speaks up as he buckles in his seatbelt, “Why did you pull me?”
The man pauses. He looks at Flame and it gives him a moment to read a nametag. “MinuteTech", huh?
Minute takes a quiet exhale. He looks tired, but it’s not directed at Flame. It’s directed at the fact that he has to be there for a child who is stuck alone because of parental neglect. He’s tired because he knows Flame is. At Flame, he makes a small smile. At least he can give him something to work with; some sort of hope.
Flame freezes at the words he hears.
“Mane is awake.”