Chapter Text
Barry knew his family was on the train from Rockport to Neverwinter — that’s why he was here at the Neverwinter train station, after all. What he wasn’t expecting was for the train to speed into some sort of portal mere feet away from where it was supposed to stop.
If he’d had a working heart, it would have stopped. Were they on that train? Were they okay? He tugged angrily on the reins of his mind, not letting it go to the dark places of any implications otherwise. Obviously, they had to be fine. They’d dealt with worse and lived to tell the tale — in a manner of speaking, at least.
Relief flooded his non-corporeal form as he saw the three of them walk onto the platform of the station, seemingly— at least mostly — unharmed. He thought about going over to them, saying something to them, but he wasn't ready, and besides, this was far too public of a place to cause a scene.
He watched them talk to a muscular bearded woman, a wizard, and a small boy in a fancy outfit with a messenger cap. Then, they turned and left, and he watched them saunter away, probably to call a ride to Lucretia’s moon base.
He knew he shouldn’t go talk to them, that they’d have no idea who he was, but there was something like a gravitational force pulling him towards them, like there was a rope tied around his chest tugging him at them. What would he even say ? He hadn’t planned anything, but he truly just wanted to make sure they were okay.
He weaved around crowds of people who couldn’t see him, trying to catch a glimpse of their heads bobbing away down the road, Taako’s iconic hat flopping as he walked. Then suddenly—
“Ahhh!” A child’s voice shrieked, and Barry stopped and looked down in surprise. He had accidentally just passed right through the little fancy lad his friends had just been talking to, who was now clutching his chest in surprise at the undoubtedly sharp chill that must have suddenly just overcome him for a moment. When Barry looked back up, his friends were gone, the opportunity now completely lost.
He sighed and made himself corporeal, turning to face the kid. The kid jumped as he appeared, backing up several steps and holding his hands up. “P-please don’t hurt me!” he begged, his fear written plainly across his face. He backed right into a wall and glanced around desperately, clearly searching for an escape.
“Hey kid, I don’t want to hurt you,” Barry said, holding his own hands up as if that proved anything.
“You’re a— you’re— you’re a—”
“I wanted to apologize. I didn’t mean to go through you and scare you.” Barry sighed, rubbing his fingers over his forehead.
The kid clutched his chest again, eyes going wide in realization. “Is that what—” He stopped, looking around at the mostly deserted street they were on, and took a deep breath, seeming to summon what courage he could. When he spoke, his voice was steadier, stronger. “Are you a lich? What do you want?”
Barry sighed. “Yes. You’ve got a good eye. And I don’t want anything, I just— can I ask you something?”
The boy shook his head, still shaking. “Liches are evil!”
Barry had to chuckle. “Many are. It depends on how you do it. But I happen to believe that necromancy isn’t inherently evil or bad, especially if you’re responsible with how you practice it.”
The boy blinked in confusion, but Barry noticed that his muscles seemed to de-tense just a little. “How could you possibly practice necromancy in a responsible way?”
Barry smiled. “Well, for one, you could tether your lich form to positive emotions as opposed to negative ones.”
The boy blinked, processing that information. “You can do that?”
Barry chuckled again. “We’re not all so bad. What’s your name?”
The boy sucked his lower lip, thinking. “What’s yours?”
“Barry Bluejeans,” Barry answered. He had a feeling lying to this perceptive kid wouldn’t go very well, and besides, he didn’t feel like he had any reason to.
“What did you want to ask me, Si— Barry?” The kid asked, getting bolder by the minute.
Barry felt himself beginning to relax as well. “Those three guys — Magnus, Merle, and Taako. You were talking to them. Did you meet them on the train?”
The boy blinked, clearly somewhat surprised by the question. “Why do you want to know?”
“We’re old friends, family basically, but they— well, they can’t remember me.” Barry admitted, scratching the back of his head.
The boy squinted, and Barry could see the wheels turning in his head. “Why not?”
“A weird magical thing I can’t tell you about,” Barry shrugged.
“Why can’t you tell me?” The boy pressed.
“I literally can’t,” Barry said. “I could try, but all you would hear is voidfish .”
The boy’s expression pained at the word, and Barry could tell he was wincing from the static. “What?” the boy asked.
“Exactly,” Barry laughed.
The boy thought for a moment. “I don’t want to answer your questions, sir,” he said finally, with an air of finality about it that felt somehow ingenuine to Barry.
Barry thought about pressing the boy further, but he decided to let it go. This boy had clearly been through enough today, and he didn’t need a lich terrorizing him any further. His friends were clearly okay, and as much as it pained him to let more information about them go, that would have to be enough for now.
“Do you have a parent or guardian around here I could help you find?” Barry asked.
The boy straightened up. “I came on my own. I’m just going to my aunt’s house, but I know the way.” After a second, he added, “But... thank you for offering, sir.”
Barry nodded, knowing how terrifying he must have looked this whole time, a skeletal floating picture in his flowing crimson robe. He wanted to offer to walk the kid home, but that seemed like it might come off creepier than intended, and besides, this boy was clearly competent enough to get where he was going. “It was nice to meet you,” Barry said, turning to go.
“Angus!” the boy called out.
Barry turned in surprise. “What?”
“Angus,” The boy repeated. “That’s my name.”
Barry smiled a little. “Nice to meet you, Angus.”
***
With his worries about his family members whose locations he knew put to the side for a minute, he resumed his other favorite pastime — worrying about those family members whose locations he was unaware, namely Davenport and Lup. He had run into and tracked down Lucretia a few times, and gathered enough information to understand what she had done with Fisher and her plans to build a bureau to collect the relics, ostensibly to re-form the light of creation and carry out her original plan. He was sure he wouldn’t have to worry too much about it... until she got his other family members involved.
Wherever Davenport was, Barry was sure he would be fine, though he had no idea why Lucretia hadn’t recruited him like she had the other three. Davenport was the wisest, sharpest, cleverest, and bravest man he knew. If anyone could make it without their memories, it was surely their captain.
So, it was Lup that really kept him up at night — that, and the fact that liches didn’t need to sleep. It wasn’t that he thought she couldn’t take care of herself without her memories or even without Taako — while it obviously wouldn’t have been ideal, there were few people more competent than the love of his life. It was the fact that she had gone missing before Lucretia had sicked Fisher on them that worried him the most. There was some reason she hadn’t come back, even as a lich, that meant she was somehow imperiled, or worse. If she hadn’t gotten out of whatever situation she had been in, she could still be in serious trouble, maybe even in pain, and whenever Barry was in his lich form, the idea plagued him nonstop.
While Taako, Magus, and Merle getting recruited by Lucretia was bad news for this planet (with three relics together, there was no stopping the Hunger from finding them now), it at least meant that Lucretia could keep a knowing eye on their family members. While Barry was angry and upset about what she had done — forcing Taako to forget his other half making him the most nauseous — he was also grateful she could keep an eye on them. In a weird way that made him a little confused, Barry still deeply loved Lucretia and even somewhat understood where she was coming from. It didn't make him less angry or sad, but he couldn’t deny that she was still family, no matter what she did. Family was unconditional, which he was realizing more and more every passing year.
Barry was just settling in to look over his maps and plans to find Lup when he heard a small noise coming from the doorway of his cave home. Slowly, cautiously, he made his way towards the entrance, arm outstretched, ready to cast if he needed to. He drew the door open as suddenly as he could to reveal a startled Angus, who squeaked and jumped, but froze, clearly paralyzed with fear.
Barry began to laugh. “Angus,” he asked slowly, “Did you... follow me here?”
The boy’s face turned red and he began to stutter, the picture of guilt. “I— well, I—”
Barry shook his head in amusement. “It’s okay, Angus,” he said. “Do you want to come in and tell me how you did that?”
In a moment, Angus stood taller, as though emblazoned by what he was about to say. “Well sir,” he revealed, “I’m actually the world’s greatest detective.”
Barry cocked an eyebrow. He had no idea the truthfulness of the statement, but something told him that not only was this kid not joking around, he was probably a real variable to take into account.
“Does that mean if I move you’ll just find me again?” Barry asked.
Angus nodded, folding his arms over his chest. “Unfortunately, sir, it looks like you are trapped.”
Barry laughed, but Angus did not look amused. “Do you want to come in? Do you need something to eat?” Truthfully, he didn’t think he had anything the kid could eat in the cave— he had a fridge with some leftovers stashed in the back from when he was last in his own body, but they were probably well past bad by this point.
Angus shook his head. “I don’t want to get poisoned by a stranger lich, sir.”
“I wouldn’t— that’s not—” Barry sputtered, before sighing. “I mean, point taken.”
“Anyways, I really should be going to my aunt’s place,” Angus shrugged, and turned to go.
“Wait!” Barry said. “Let me walk you there?”
“I hardly think—”
“I can disguise myself,” Barry offered, and quickly cast the spell to make himself look as he looked as a human— a t-shirt and jeans over his soft, chubby frame, his dark wavy hair cascading over his forehead.
Angus blinked. “Who are you supposed to look like?”
Barry barked out a laugh. “Me. This is how I look.”
“No, you look like a spooky ghost person,” Angus said.
“Believe it or not, I’m a human,” Barry shrugged. “This is what I normally look like.”
“What do you mean normally , sir?” Angus asked. “Aren’t you dead?”
Barry gave him a mischievous grin that he hoped would make Angus feel like a co-conspirator. “Death is a very flexible thing, if you know what you’re doing.”
Angus stared at him for a second more, clearly trying to fit the puzzle pieces of Barry Bluejeans together in his mind, before taking a step back. “I’m just going to go, sir. But... thanks for offering.”
Barry watched him go, wondering if they would ever meet again. He knew the boy had information about his family, but he felt like he shouldn’t press it. If the kid ever came back on his own, Barry could see what information he could get.
***
It was a few more days before Angus knocked on Barry’s door again, and Barry was pleasantly surprised to see him. The boy was wearing similar clothes and had a determined look on his face. “I have some questions for you,” he announced. Then, he seemed to backpedal a little bit, as though remembering his manners. “...Sir. Would you mind if I came in?”
Barry smiled and motioned him in. After Angus had left, he had thought about what he would do if he came back. For one thing, he got some water and food, a lot of it admittedly frozen, so he could feed the kid if he needed to. He cleared his throat as Angus sat down at the kitchen table. “Would it... make you more comfortable if I looked like myself, but alive?”
Angus hesitated, maybe caught off guard by the question, but nodded after a moment. “If you don’t mind, sir.”
Barry cast disguise self on himself and sat across from Angus, who was already taking a pad of paper and a pen out of his satchel. “Where are you from originally?”
When Barry answered, Angus flinched, undoubtedly hearing static. “Why can’t you tell me certain things? Is it related to your friends not being able to remember you?”
Barry thought, trying to choose his words carefully. “It is related. There is... someone else in our family who caused this.”
Angus squinted in confusion. “Someone else in your family? Why would they do that?”
Barry sighed. “It’s complicated.”
Their conversation went on like that for a little while, Angus helping Barry finesse his answers so that he could glean as much information as possible. Barry told him that his family was from somewhere else, and had gone on a long trip together that ended here, as vague as that was. And, he got a little information from Angus as well — that Taako seemed to be doing okay (which was honestly a relief after the glamour springs incident), that Merle was as irreverent as ever and Magnus had literally jumped out of a train to save the day (which was just as classic). By the time it was dark outside and Barry realized what time it was, Barry scolded himself for losing track of time.
“Let me walk you home, Angus,” Barry said. “I don’t want you to have to walk alone in the dark.”
“Really, sir, it’s fine,” Angus said, packing up his stuff.
“Does your aunt have a stone of farspeach? Let me call her and tell her you’re alright—”
“No!” Angus shouted, and Barry looked up in surprise. Angus clamped a hand over his mouth, before taking a deep, shaky breath. “I mean, she doesn’t have one. But it’s fine, I promise she doesn’t care.”
Something about that didn’t sit right with Barry. He hesitated before offering, “If you want, you could crash here on my couch tonight? I am more than happy to have you.”
Angus suddenly looked on the verge of tears, and Barry suddenly realized how tired the kid looked. “Do you really mean it, sir?” he asked in a quiet voice.
Warmth flooded Barry’s chest for the kid. He was clearly such a good kid, brighter and wiser beyond his years but still just a kid. There was something going on that Barry neither knew about nor wanted to press too hard about, but it seemed like the kid just needed somewhere safe to be.
“Of course,” he said, ruffling Angus’s hair lightly. “Now, let me get you something to eat. I’m no Taako... so I can’t cook anything. But I have frozen things!”
***
They went on like that for several weeks. Every few days, Angus would show up to Barry’s place once again, and Barry would feed him and answer his seemingly never-ending questions. He told Angus as much as he could about their group, all seven of them. As painful as it was to admit, it was honestly a relief to share this with someone, to talk about the people he loved and missed so much and what he had been going through trying to help them all. He even told Angus about his own body growing in a sectioned off part of the cave, though he refused to let the kid see his naked ass, even though Angus insisted it would be ‘scientific’.
Reluctantly, little by little, Angus began to share bits and pieces of himself as well. His parents had passed away when he was very young, and his grandfather had raised him as long as he could remember. His grandfather taught him how to be a detective, but after he passed Angus had to move here to live with his aunt, completely uprooting his life and changing schools in the process. He loved Caleb Cleveland novels and read avidly, and he was just generally such a genuinely good kid that his anecdotes always brought a smile to Barry’s face.
Some nights Angus insisted he go back to his Aunt’s, but most nights he came to Barry he ended up sleeping over. One morning as Angus got up to get ready for school, Barry handed him a brown paper sack, which Angus looked at in confusion.
“Lunch. For school,” Barry explained simply. He wasn’t expecting much in return, probably a ‘thank you, sir’. He really wasn’t expecting Angus’s eyes to well up with tears and for him to wrap Barry in a quick hug before wiping his eyes with the back of his hand and leaving. Barry stood there for a minute, still not entirely sure what had just happened, but he knew one thing — he needed to get more sandwich materials.
After a few weeks, the two exhausted most topics about themselves and began to just spend time together. Barry helped Angus with his homework or listened to him talk about his classes, and in turn Angus started looking through Barry’s notes and maps on Lup and Davenport, trying to help his search however he could. While it was incredibly kind, Barry suspected the kid just loved a good mystery and couldn’t turn one away when he saw it.
Sometimes, they just did nothing together — Barry began to teach Angus chess, and they would play for hours on end. Other times, they might just read side by side, and the domesticity of it all warmed Barry’s heart. He felt like after so many years of chasing ghosts, he was actually finally doing something good and productive by being there for this kid who clearly needed it.
As Angus began to come more frequently, he had to admit he was growing really attached. He really cared for the kid, and he was starting to feel like he was somewhat responsible for him. He kind of liked that responsibility. It made him feel important in a little way that made him feel like his heart was smiling.
One night, as Barry shooed a yawning Angus toward the bathroom to wash up for bed, Angus asked him, “Tell me about Lup again.”
Barry smiled. “She’s the coolest, most badass, most beautiful person who has ever existed and I love her a lot. Now go brush your teeth.” He hadn’t been able to tell him that she was Taako’s twin, and most anecdotes seemed to have been erased by Fisher, but he’d scrounged up enough information about their relationship to explain who she was to him to Angus.
Angus stuck his toothbrush in his mouth. “Tell me again about how you met.”
Barry laughed. “She thought I was a huge nerd, because I was. I still don’t know what she eventually saw in me.”
Angus dutifully brushed his teeth and laid down on the couch, and Barry pulled the blanket over him, tucking him in. Angus’s eyelids drooped heavily as he settled in. “I really hope I can meet her one day.”
Barry’s eyes stung with the sentiment. “Me, too, Ango,” Barry sniffed, turning his head to hide his bittersweet smile. “Good night, buddy.”
Thinking about Lup made him yearn for her. While he wasn’t quite as lonely with Angus around, he still ached for her every day. Caring for Angus distracted him from the worry that constantly sliced deeply into him, but when Angus was away, he felt the pain of not knowing where she was or if she was okay come rushing back in full force.
In that moment, a new thought occurred to him — he thought about what it would be like to introduce Lup and Angus. He and Lup had talked about adopting kids one day, but that had always seemed impossibly far away, since they sure as hell weren’t going to do that anytime while they were plane-hopping. Once they made it to their final destination, the results of the relics had been so devastating that they hadn’t really given trying to start a family much serious consideration beyond casual musings here and there. If they’d had a few more months or years, they might have seriously considered it, but once Lup was gone, that was it.
Barry knew Lup would absolutely adore Angus, and he ached thinking about how much she would love the domesticity of it all, taking care of just the best kid in the world. It was sad to think he’d finally gotten some piece of that domestic life, and none of it was how it was supposed to be. He and Lup weren’t raising a kid together in a nice home with all of their friends around to help out. Taako was supposed to be the cool uncle who was a bad influence and Magnus was supposed to balance him out by being an excellent influence. Davenport was supposed to teach him important life lessons and Merle was supposed to balance that out by teaching him terrible life lessons.
Instead of that beautiful fantasy, Barry was in a cave he had haphazardly turned into a home, half-raising a kid who wasn't his to raise, all by himself.
And yet, he was grateful to be able to do it.
“Lup will love you,” he murmured, smoothing Angus’s hair over his forehead. Then he sighed, turned off the light, and headed to bed.