Chapter Text
We are shaped by our past.
Every action, every word, every decision. Every single little thing has carefully guided us to be the person we are today. The best days and the worst nights, every single hour, have contributed to our growth. Some regret certain things. Some wish they never met someone, or perhaps wished they stayed home on a certain day. Some have things left unsaid, tasks that were never completed. But even these regrets have meticulously crafted us into who we are in the present moment.
Though some people simply want to relive certain events. They want to see it from another perspective, view it from another lens. Nothing should be changed. Nothing should be altered.
Certain people, however, have made an active effort to bury and hide certain things from their past. Certain people never want to see it again, for every reminder brings unbearable pain.
One such person was Boothill. The agony of his past is something he simply cannot afford to handle. And even with his efforts of avoidance, that night haunts him in his dreams, for what little rest he gets. The fires, the destruction, the ships and the smoke, it all eats at him. He can never forget, even if he claims to. His dads. Siblings. Daughter. Sometimes he wonders if there was anything he could have done, if he was just a little faster.
He may never know.
And perhaps…That might be for the better.
"Hold your horses, slow down!" Boothill howls as Stelle tugs him along through the busy walkways of the Herta Space Station. Despite his constant command for the grey-haired woman to slow down so he can catch his footing, she seems to only get faster and faster. He didn't even know where they were going. Last he heard, Herta had some sort of experiment she wanted to run some tests with, and demanded the presence of the Stellaron twins. The longer Boothill stuck around the express, the more he figured out that the twins were more like guinea pigs rather than actual people to the little Herta puppet.
The ranger didn't agree with most of the things that little brat did, and often got into arguments with her, the likes of which can be compared to speaking with a brick wall. She never budged, and he never stopped standing his ground. The only thing that stops their endless cycle of debate is Himeko or Welt putting an end to their nonsense. The one and only reason he even comes along to these experiments anymore is strictly that the twins drag him along, and he doesn't have the heart to say no to their eager faces.
He had no clue about what that little puppet had cooked up this time, nor did he have much interest in it. Stelle simply wanted him there for emotional support, and considering her grip was nearly inescapable, the cowboy had no say in the matter.
Stumbling to a halt, the two of them pause in front of the automatic door to Herta's lab and wait for a moment as the system scans them. After the door whirs open, Boothill is given half a second to prepare before he's tugged inside, nearly falling flat on his face.
"Will you stop doin' that, I can walk on my own!" Boothill complains. Stelle only replies with a grin and a quick giggle. When the cowboy looks up, he sees Himeko, Welt, Caelus, Black Swan and Argenti all huddled around a table together, the little Herta puppet instructing them on something that only half of the group seemed to understand. As fate would have it, Argenti happened to be on the Express at the same time as Boothill. Their paths don't cross often, but they manage to find one another completely unplanned every few months. Boothill sometimes jokes about the redhead stalking him, laughing at the horrified reaction it garners every time.
The Knight was looking at the puppet with deep confusion, but clearly had the desire to understand the girl's ramblings. As the door shuts behind Boothill and Stelle, everybody turns their way. Caelus beams at the sight of his sibling, and Argenti's eyes widen in pleasant surprise at the sight of his silver companion. Herta stops her presentation and lets everybody greet one another. Stelle and Caelus huddle around Himeko and Welt like children, and the cyborg slowly saunters over to the Knight.
"Fancy seein' you here too. Hope that little brat didn't force you here," Boothill says, knowing how easy Argenti is to rope into danger.
Argenti flashes a smile and places a hand over his heart. "Oh I assure you, my silver cowboy, I am here willingly. I was actually just walking about when I saw Ms. Black Swan and struck up a conversation. She said the twins were about to take part in an experiment, and I found myself quite curious." The redhead gestures to the puppet. "I have heard nothing but grandeur and praise for her genius; I wished to experience it myself."
Boothill grumbles and scratches at the back of his neck. "Ain't nothin' special about it, she's just got more money than sense, hardly ever works right anyways…"
"If I didn't know better, Boothill, I'd say you're sulking." Argenti chuckles.
"Ain't sulkin'!" The cowboy howls, crossing his arms with a glare. "Makin' a valid point is what I'm doing!"
"But of course." Argenti agrees, bowing his head to hide his grin.
"What's she up to this time anyways?"
"Some sort of time travel simulation, I believe. Her explanation was rather…Quick. I did not follow everything perfectly."
Boothill blinks, a burning bundle of anxiety slowly churning inside his metal chest. "Time travel?"
"If I understood her correctly."
"That ain't possible. At least it shouldn't be."
"Well, I'm sure Madame Herta will explain it better than I can," Argenti says quickly, taking note of the angry expression that quickly spreads across the ranger's face.
Boothill bites his tongue until he has confirmation, until he knows exactly what that brat was up to. He didn't have to wait long either, for the brown-haired puppet would loudly clear her throat and gather everyone in front of a strange-looking machine.
It looked fairly similar to the simulated universe, a large ring with complicated wiring peaking out in the middle. The only difference was the four monitors, two on each side of the ring, displaying nothing but static right now. To the left of the machine, a console with a dizzying number of buttons stands tall, whirring and beeping a quiet symphony. The little Herta would thrust her fists against her hips, looking as cocky and as proud as always.
"Now then!" Herta points at the grey-haired twins, who both point at themselves with shock. "You two have exhausted the Simulated Universe by now, and, because I'm always the one to keep you going, I have come up with a solution!"
Boothill scrunches his face at the blatant narcissism, his reticles following the puppet as she wanders over to the control panels. After pressing a few buttons, all of the screens light up, each monitor playing a different video. A lot of what was being shown didn't make sense to a majority of the group, but Stelle and Caelus immediately lit up. They know these videos! In fact, they were replaying some of the most difficult battles they have ever gone through.
The Pollux, "Something Unto Death", even the Ichor Memosprite. Some of the most difficult, bloody and tiring battles the Express crew have ever faced. Welt, already tense with suspicion, would clear his throat and glance to the twins, who are practically buzzing with excitement. Herta continues eventually.
"Let's face it, you were under prepared for these battles, and you all got hurt." This causes the twins to feign offense, as if it weren't true. "And due to various circumstances, we cannot simply have you two try again, not like you can with somebody like Argenti, Bronya or Aventurine." The Knight glances around sheepishly at the mention of his impromptu battle he commenced on the Express. "But I have found the solution. This is a time displacement machine; The Temporal Distribution and Recreative Simulation."
"TDRS! Tardis!" Stelle shouts, thrusting her finger into Herta's face, who blinks in stunned silence. Caelus didn't know what his sister was referring too, but he gave two thumbs up regardless. In fact, nobody knew what she was talking about. That wasn't even the correct order of letters…
"…Sure. In any case, this machine will select a certain memory and recreate it in a simulated area, allowing you to essentially 'replay' a certain battle you were a part of, so long as it's a part of your memory. There are certain things you can't change, like you cannot simply just walk away from the fight or prevent it from happening; the simulation will stop you. The purpose of this is to explore new tactics and get stronger, not to change the outcome. No matter what you do, it will always end the same."
Herta claps her hands together and addresses the rest of the group with a glare.
"Now would be the time for your questions."
Welt speaks first. "Do you collect and store data as it pertains to the participants' memories?"
"Nothing is kept, I have no business or care in what any of you have gone through beyond your fighting experience, I assure you that none of you have anything that I don't already know."
Black Swan glances over to the older man out of the corner of her eyes and watches as Welt relaxes a little. He is more than willing to let the little Herta keep her ignorant opinion. Next, Argenti chimes in with his own question.
"Will we keep any damage we sustain in the simulation?"
"No, it's all artificial, and the moment you exit the simulation, you'll be as good as new. Even if you manage to fail and "die" while inside, it will simply kick you out, and you will be perfectly fine in the real world."
Boothill steps forward, crossing his arms as he speaks. "And are you able to access any of our memories at any time?"
"That's the tricky part," Herta sighs and rolls her eyes, looking at the nails carved into her mechanical fingers. "The simulation draws from your brain activity; you have to be thinking about where you want to go. If you don't have a destination in mind, it seems to pull from a core memory."
"It seems to? You don't know for sure?" Boothill snarls, cocking his head to the side in a wary confusion.
"It's complicated, cowboy, and this is still experimental. That's why I have those two." Herta nods towards the twins, who have already distracted themselves with something on their phones. "Unless you'd like to make yourself useful for once, and become my subject?"
"You can go fork yers-" Boothill's cut off by a sharp clearing of Welt's throat. The ranger grits his teeth and tilts his hat over his eyes. There are a few more stray questions here and there, but the two silver men slowly detach themselves from the conversation in favor of speaking to one another. "It just doesn't sit right with me." The cyborg sighs.
"Which part, my silver cowboy?"
"The whole access to yer memories, I don't think it's a good idea. I mean the concept is fine n' dandy, but pullin' it right out of your head seems…"
"Dangerous?" Argenti offers.
Boothill nods slowly. "Right."
"I am sure that Madame Herta has plenty of safety precautions to prevent anything disastrous," Argenti says with a smile.
"You're too trusting, Red, you're gonna get roped into somethin' you can't get out of."
Argenti perks up and places his right hand on his chest, while raising his left as he speaks. "No challenge is too great, I will accept any and all trials presented to me, for The Beauty will guide me no matter what."
Boothill furrows his brows and sighs slowly, feeling his shoulders sag. Always somethin' about The Beauty with this guy. Boothill's glad The Knight has this kind of outlet, something to keep him going, he just wishes Argenti would…Be a little safer about it. He's seen firsthand the lengths of sacrifice Argenti has gone through, just to meet expectations. It's dangerous and self-destructive. The redhead has always valued results over his own health, as if he'll suddenly become forfeit if he doesn't fully meet expectations. This was no different, it seems.
Argenti will dive into this experiment, get hurt, view it as a failure, and hardly give himself time to recover before trying once again. Hopefully, that little puppet brat won't let him try again.
"Just be careful, Red, you ain't invincible." Boothill sighs.
"As Madame Herta said, the damage done in the simulation will be all but healed once we are ejected or pulled out."
"Don't mean you won't be exhausted, yer still movin' yer real body around. And knowing you, prolly won't let yourself rest no matter what."
Argenti would respond with a breathy, nervous laugh and a small scratch at his neck. "Ah, well…"
"Gonna be tellin' Ms.Himeko 'bout it if you don't stop and rest." Boothill threatens with a smirk.
Argenti nearly panics, waving his hands around as he assures Boothill that it won't be necessary, and to not be hasty. On the other side of the room, the mini Herta would discuss her plan with Caelus and Stelle, giving them very strict instructions on what to picture in their mind, what to focus on, and their goal once they are inside of the simulation. Both of the twins nod, but Herta doesn't buy it and demands that they repeat everything to her in the correct order. The twins do, actually managing to impress Herta. Himeko laughs quietly and shakes her head.
The red-haired woman turns to Welt, and her expression slowly drops. He looked agitated.
"Welt?" Himeko asks, stepping closer as she drops her voice lower in case it was a more sensitive matter.
"I don't trust this, Himeko," Welt admits as he adjusts his glasses. "I can feel the power behind that machine, and it's unstable. Nothing is keeping it grounded."
"Should we…Stop Herta from doing this, then?" Himeko asks.
"I believe it may be within-"
Before Welt can even finish his sentence, the control panel that Herta was fiddling with suddenly sparks, a snapping sound stunning everyone into silence. Nobody moves a muscle. Nobody even breathes. Silence settles across the room, nobody daring to take the risk of breaking it. Everyone's eyes were on the machine.
Five tense seconds later, the machine explodes with life, a blinding light causing everyone to scream. An indescribable sound shocks the room as the controls completely explode, causing Herta to yelp out in surprise. The whole ship seems to rumble with the sheer amount of power that bounces off the walls. Without any warning, a powerful vortex starts to circle the TDRS, sucking everyone closer and closer to the portal. The twins hold onto each other and try to use the control panel as a way of grounding themselves before they go flying into the machine. Himeko and Black Swan hold onto a bolted-down table in the middle of the room, while Welt uses his cane to stop his momentum, placing it firmly in front of him.
Unfortunately for the two silver companions, they didn't have anything to hold onto. Argenti went down first, collapsing to the ground as he was pulled closer and closer to the machine. Thinking as quickly as he could, The Knight would twist his body while summoning his lance, slamming the blade into the ground to try and slow himself down, and give him something to hold on to. Boothill's metal body is heavy enough that he can resist the pull a little better than the others, and quickly works on trying to pull Argenti back.
Herta frantically punches in various commands that seem to have absolutely zero effect on the machine, which only continues to threaten the people inside. After the third emergency shutdown command, the vortex suddenly becomes stronger, and in the blink of an eye, both of the twins are swallowed into the simulation. Himeko yells for them frantically, looking to Welt for any form of guidance, but to her absolute horror, all she sees is the blur of his beige coat whizzing by her, as he too is consumed. Black Swan tries her best to keep a grip on the table, but it's no use; one of her heels snaps off her shoe, and she loses her footing. She's gone in an instant.
Boothill grits his teeth as he tries to pull Argenti back away from the machine, feeling more and more desperate with every passing moment. Argenti's face is contorted with pain as his body is pulled in two different directions with massive amounts of strength.
"Hold on, 'Genti, don't let go!" Boothill barks as his eyes flick over to Herta. "Shut the forkin' thing off!!"
"I'm trying!!" Herta screams, desperate enough to start slamming her hand onto the control panel to try and get anything to respond to her!
Argenti's glove starts to slip as Boothill pulls him again, sending the ranger into a frenzy as he scrambles to get a better grip on The Knight. In his panic, he has lost a bit of his footing, growling as his body is pulled closer and closer to the danger zone. There was no hope. Argenti's glove slips off his hand, his screams echoing as the machine consumes him. Boothill is soon to follow, stumbling forward as he keeps a hold of the redhead's glove, his body sparking against the ground as he collapses.
"Herta!!" He yelps, his voice fading further and further until he, too, is lost. Finally, the system would recognize and respond to the emergency shut down protocol, everything stopping all at once. Himeko gasps and collapses to the ground, and the little Herta puppet falls to her knees as well. Welt, Black Swan, the twins, Argenti and Boothill are now trapped within a simulation. Aeons only know what point in time they've traveled to.
And, as it stands now, they have no way of getting anyone back.
"Herta," Himeko pants, looking scared out of her mind. "What have you done?"
Argenti could only feel pain.
He felt as if his body was being torn apart, whipped around at speeds unfathomable. Flashing images of various memories that don't belong to him collide in his vision. A black hole. A star. A dance. All at once, fire consumes his vision, an all too familiar scene of war wrapping all around him. Distorted and distant screams echo and bounce in his skull as he is forced to look into the hellscape that was once his home. His ears begin to ring, his vision blurs until all he can see is static.
As soon as it came, it disappears and he's quickly thrust in another direction, some place he didn't recognize. A blinding light tears a scream out of the redhead as he is overwhelmed by the feeling of falling. He couldn't hear himself screaming anymore, but he knew he was. The Knight kept falling, and falling and falling, until suddenly-!
Thud!
Argenti collapses to the ground, the smell of soil invading his nostrils. He gasps for breath that never seems to come. He knows his eyes are wide open, but all he can see is static. He tries to raise his arms, but his body has gone completely numb - he doesn't know if his limbs are responding. The ringing slowly subsides, allowing him to hear the calm rustle of what he assumes to be grass or leaves. His skin felt warm as sunlight beat down on him. Once he was finally able to take a few complete breaths, the static in his eyes started to clear up.
The Knight's lashes flutter as a clear blue sky comes into sight, something swaying above him. Golden, fluffy…Wheat? Argenti squeezes his eyes shut and works on moving his body, which aches like no other. The moment he's able to sit up, a wave of nausea washes over him. His jaw pries itself open as a line of drool threatens to spill, but the redhead doesn't allow it. He takes a few breaths, steadies himself, and waits for his body to settle down.
Once his eyes open again, he is met with a golden field as far as the eye can see. The reaching arms of a willow tree flutter in the wind, spotted green leaves offering a fleeting song. In the sky, eagles soar high and proud, gracefully weaving their way left and right in a dance. The scene was so peaceful, so quiet, it made the redhead wonder if he…No, surely not.
When he goes to stand, his legs don't quite cooperate with him. Argenti struggles for a moment before ultimately falling onto his hands and knees. When he looks down, however, he notices something. Something alarming.
For one, he lacked his armor. He wore a plain white tunic with puffed sleeves that stopped about halfway down his forearm. When he looks at his legs, he can see he was wearing simple, tan pants, which then led to simple sanguine slip-ons. Everything about his outfit was boring and bland, except for a silver cross at his hip with a rose at the center, hung at the waist with a chain.
Common clothes you can find anywhere, but to Argenti, this outfit was all he knew for many, many years when he was training as a squire. Clothes from a part of his life that he hardly even remembers, suppressed by the weight of trauma yet to be processed.
For two, he was…thin. Very, very thin. He looked almost weak. The nausea comes back…
While it's true, Argenti doesn't eat much, and doesn't take the greatest care of his body, long gone were the days when he was starving, scavenging for crumbs on the streets. So why? Why was he like this again after all his hard work…?
The Knight wasn't able to dwell for long, the light tickling sensation on the back of his neck distracting him for a moment as his hair slipped down his shoulders. Except, it wasn't right. Argenti panics, gathers as much of his hair as he can to look at it. It was shorter than it should be, missing seven to eight inches of length. But that wasn't his main concern. What worried him the most was the color.
Pure white.
Untainted and unstained from that fateful day, Argenti has not been blessed with this purity in years. It's a part of him that he thought he left behind. What was happening to him? Why was he like this? Why was all of his hard work completely undone now? Was this his karma, a punishment given to him by Idrila?
The more his mind spins, the tighter his stomach becomes until he slaps his hand over his mouth as he wretches. Argenti's world spins for a moment longer, but soon enough, he comes back to his senses. The Knight would hold onto the trunk of the willow tree and slowly pull himself off the ground. He couldn't see anything around; no structures, no landmarks, nothing. Where in the name of Idrila was he…?
Shakily, Argenti tests his balance and strength, stepping forward once. His arms naturally jut out to his sides as he tries to find his footing. Two steps…Three steps…He finally finds rhythm. This newfound weakness in his legs makes movement significantly more difficult, but he refuses to succumb. He didn't know where he was going; there was nothing to travel to.
After a few minutes of slow, unsteady walking, Argenti could hear something behind him. He wasn't sure if he had gone mad already, but he could have sworn it sounded like the thundering hooves of a horse. Taking a moment to look behind him, he could see something gaining on him. A person on horseback, racing straight at him. He was in no position to fight, his body was weak, and he couldn't summon his weapon no matter how hard he tried. Retreat was never his style, but there was no chance he would survive any kind of altercation. Thus, he used all his strength to run.
He was a fool to think he could outrun a horse, but he tried nonetheless. His body didn't bring him far; he felt dizzy and winded within seconds. Collapsing to his knees, he grasps at his chest and wheezes loudly. He silently begged Idrila for protection, promising to repent for whatever sin he may have committed should he survive this endeavor.
He squeezes his eyes shut when the figure approaches him, clutching himself in preparation for pain.
Though it never came.
"Hey, stranger," A smooth voice said to him, a familiar Southern twang carefully interlaced with his tone. Argenti pries his eyes open, but doesn't look at the person quite yet. "Don't mean to run up on ya like that…"
The more they spoke…The more familiar that voice became. There was just…Something different, something Argenti couldn't quite put a name to.
"Hope you don't mind, I saw somethin' bright fall right outta the sky and came to investigate. Don't suppose that was you, was it?" They chuckle.
Argenti slowly turns to look at the person speaking to him. In an instant, his nausea comes back for a whole other reason. In front of him was a man with beautiful black and white hair that flowed to his mid-back, silky and shiny. He had light grey eyes that peered at Argenti kindly. He wore a fairly large hat with a feather pinned to the side, a white button-down shirt with a brown vest that donned various pins. His pants flared open at the bottom, revealing brown cowboy boots with a beautiful floral pattern. The mud caked to the heels told a story of how much work they've been through.
Strapped to the stranger's thigh was a holster that Argenti recognized instantly. Under the stranger's left eye was a mark that he knew very well. Plastered across the stranger's face was a smile Argenti has found comfort in.
There was no denying it.
There was no way around it.
Argenti's voice trembled as he spoke. "Boot-" The instant he tried to mutter the other man's name, his ears became hot with searing pain as they began to ring. It pushed him over the edge, and he was immediately sick. The man on horseback was shocked to say the least, but he leaped into action as quickly as he could. He slides off the saddle and kneels beside Argenti, setting a hand on his back that causes the poor Knight to jolt in surprise.
After Argenti finally catches his breath, he tries to hide his face away from the other man, knowing he looks completely wrecked. What's happened to him? Where was he?! Why was Boothill, in flesh and blood, here? He was never meant to see this, no, no, no! Was this the simulation? Has Argenti broken into his companion's homeland? No, no, no, this cannot be!!
"Hey, hey, can you hear me?" Boothill asks.
Argenti has half the mind to nod.
"How'd you end up here, darlin'? I ain't seen somebody like you 'round here before." Boothill looks around for a moment, scanning the horizon for any out of place objects. "You got a ship?"
The Knight shakes his head, starting to tremble. His touch feels so real.
Boothill slowly rubs his hand up and down Argenti's back, only to feel the bumps of the white-haired man's ribs and spine, all too exposed. "You're paper-thin. How long have you been out here?"
Argenti knew he couldn't stay silent forever, so he tried to find his voice. Though in his attempt to sound confident, his voice quaked like a scared child. "Not…Not very long."
"Where're you from?"
"…Far away."
Boothill frowns at the incredibly vague answer, but understands this man is probably just scared. Hell, a breeze could probably knock him over. "How'd ya get here?"
"I don't know," Argenti gasps, putting his hands to his chest. "I-I apologize."
"No need for that, stranger," Boothill slowly moves over to get a better look at The Knight's face, despite how much he tries to hide. When the two men finally lock eyes, the world seems to still. Boothill stares at Argenti with something between infatuation and fascination. Boothill thought to himself that he's never seen such a beautiful shade of green, that his eyes were like emeralds. Even with how tired the poor guy looked, those eyes kept shining. His skin was pale; he definitely hadn't been around these parts before. His hair was wild, cut shorter in certain places that didn't make sense. He had a permanent apologetic expression that gave Boothill a fond little warmth in his chest.
He was beautiful.
On the other hand, Argenti stares into Boothill's eyes, now absent of the reticle and dead shadow that often loomed with his expression. He was so full of life, unable to hide how he truly felt. The corners of his lips twitch in a quick grin, even teeth briefly peeking out, not the usual shark-like smile Argenti has grown accustomed to. His bangs haven't quite covered his right eye, allowing The Knight to see the entirety of his heat blushed face.
He was beautiful.
"Let's get you outta the sun, yer gonna bake," Boothill says as he offers his hands to the stranger, smiling kindly. Argenti didn't feel right taking the help, slowly wrapping his arms around himself. Boothill blinks and retracts his hands. "Pardon."
Argenti is quick to shake his head and scramble to explain himself, but his chest just keeps tightening with every sentence he thinks of. He thought he was over this; he thought his anxiety was…He thought he was above it. Why has he regressed so badly?! Everything he has worked for, so many years of training and hard work—what kind of punishment was this, what has he done?!
"Hey!" Boothill's voice quickly brings him back to reality. His vision was blurred. The cowboy slowly reaches out and wipes away Argenti's tears from his face. He looked confused, but even more concerned. "Are…Are you alright, stranger?"
Argenti wants to nod, but his body acts on its own. He shakes his head and holds himself a little tighter.
"Hey, hey, it's alright." Boothill scoots a little closer. "There's shelter that ain't too far from here, you can stay there until you get your bearings." Argenti's body goes cold. It must show on his face, because Boothill quickly tries to explain himself. "You don't have to if you don't want to, friend, not gonna force ya! I know it's not easy to trust a stranger. But…" The cowboy looks him up and down. "I really think you could use some help right now."
Argenti takes a shaky breath in and glances over to the horse, then back to Boothill.
He doesn't have much of a choice…
Boothill keeps the ride nice and steady for the stranger behind him, doesn't go above a slow walking speed. The white-haired man wasn't much of a talker, that's for sure. Hardly even made a sound at all. He hasn't let go of himself either. The silence was deafening and uncomfortable; Boothill could hardly even take it. Every so often, he would glance behind his shoulder and glimpse at the stranger, who just looked down at the saddle and nothing else. Poor guy…He must have been through hell.
Boothill was dying to know how the man even got here in the first place. There was no ship anywhere in sight, and it's not like he could have gotten far on foot. Boothill saw him trying to run away; there was no chance in hell he could have traveled this far. Though Boothill felt as if he asked, he would just be met with silence. It was a conversation for another time. The cowboy clears his throat and glances behind him again.
"Say, I haven't caught your name yet."
Argenti squints and finally lifts his head. His name…It's been a long time since The Knight first told Boothill his name.
"I am Argenti…" He says quietly.
"Argenti, huh? Real pretty name, never heard it before," Boothill says cheerfully. "Where's it from?"
"I don't know, I apologize," The Knight whispers, fiddling with his fingers in his lap.
Boothill blinks. Most people would at least give the name of their nation, or maybe even just their planet, if they wanted to keep it general. This guy was hardly giving anything up…
"Well…My name's," There's a silence. Argenti figures he must have missed it, so he offers a timid 'one more time, please?' before leaning forward. Boothill turns his head so he can be heard a little better. "My name is," And yet again, there was silence. His mouth moved, but nothing came out. Argenti is far from an expert in reading lips, but he knew for certain that he didn't say Boothill.
Argenti knew that Boothill was not the ranger's true birth name, and the most he knows is that its meaning is "Loaded Gun". A part of him is thankful that he cannot hear his dear silver cowboy's real name. This entire thing was a gross invasion of Boothill's privacy. Argenti wasn't meant to know any of this. Yes, The Knight has always been incredibly curious about Boothill's past, and any new information he was given is sacred to him, treasured and committed to memory - but he hasn't earned this.
Boothill notices the silence and glances back again, making Argenti gasp as he scrambles for a reply.
"A-A beautiful and strong name, it seems to suit you well," The white-haired man cringes at himself the more he speaks. He was suddenly very embarrassed by his own flowery language.
"Aren't you a charmer," Boothill chuckles, looking ahead. "We're almost home, don't you worry."
"Home?" Argenti asks, suddenly sounding urgent.
"Well, I couldn't just leave you out here. Sun's gonna bake you alive, and it gets real bad out here at night." Boothill nods to himself confidently. "Plus I'm sure Dad'll love feedin' you, looks like you haven't had a good meal in a while."
Panic sets in immediately; he cannot possibly violate Boothill's privacy this way! A gross overstep, a disgusting breach of the ranger's trust! He's not allowed to see this; he hasn't earned this level of trust yet, certainly not! Boothill would…Oh, he would hate Argenti, surely!
"I-I cannot possibly disturb your home, I would be remiss with no way of payment," Argenti says in one quick breath. "I will be just fine with a shelter elsewhere."
"Darlin', there ain't any other shelter for miles," The cowboy says as he pulls the reins of his horse, bringing them to a halt. "This is the best chance you've got…"
"I…" Argenti felt tears well in his eyes, something he had not allowed in a very long time. "I have no way of repaying you," The Knight says again, hoping that it would deter the cowboy from allowing him inside. But Argenti knew Boothill's heart was kind, no matter how much he may deny it.
"Ain't a problem, darlin'," Boothill chuckles as he urges the horse forward again. "Didn't expect to be repaid for havin' basic kindness."
Argenti bites his lip and sinks into himself, his whole body buzzing with adrenaline. What was he to do? He had no way of getting out of this. Every time he thought of dismounting and sprinting away, his body ached with weakness and exhaustion. His body kept itself firmly in place, refusing to even entertain the thought of escape. Boothill happily rides, blissfully unaware of the turmoil inside the other man's head.
Soon enough, when Argenti lifts his head again, he can see a house in the distance. It wasn't massive by any means, but it was larger than most Argenti had seen. Wood, brick and stone with various wind chimes singing by the porch. The gentle song of the chimes managed to soothe some of Argenti's nerves the closer they got.
Boothill slowly turns the horse over towards a separate building, something Argenti assumes to be stables or a barn. Boothill slides off the horse first and immediately offers his hands to Argenti, who freezes up again, unsure if it was okay to accept. Boothill insists, taking the initiative, grasping onto the white-haired man's thin, trembling hands. After helping Argenti down, the cowboy would grab onto the reins and lead the stallion over to its designated area, where it happily shoves its face into its water bucket.
The Knight folds his hands up to his chest and glances around, feeling wildly out of place. While the cowboy works on taking the saddle off the horse, Argenti stays back and watches. That is, until he feels something fuzzy rub up against his shins, causing him to suck in a gasp and step away from whatever it was. At his feet was a grungy orange cat with a bright pink collar, rumbling happily. Argenti slowly lets out a breath and puts a hand on his chest to try to calm himself.
Boothill, hearing the other man's startled gasp, would grin.
"She likes ya."
"Does she?" Argenti asks as he kneels to pet them. "She seems rather friendly."
"Eh, to most. She's always got an attitude with me, lemme tell you sum'." Boothill chuckles. "Always tryna get me." Boothill swats at the cat's tail on his way past her, to which she pins her ears back and swats right back at him. Argenti noticed the cat's claws never came out, though; she was just playing around, giving the cowboy some sass. "Hope you don't mind a walk."
"No, that's fine," Argenti answers all too quickly, wrapping his arms around himself as he trails behind Boothill.
It only takes around three minutes for the two of them to reach the front of the house. Toys and tools are scattered all around the grass, random parts to random ships, messy dolls and various seats. One thing that stood out immediately to Argenti was the baby seat, designed to help encourage independent standing.
He felt his stomach sink to his feet.
Argenti didn't know a lot about Boothill's home, even less about his family, but he knew who that was for.
And suddenly, all at once, this was far too real. He staggers to a stop as the nausea returns to him with a fury, mouth pooling with drool. Boothill whistles to himself as he steps up the stairs, grabbing onto the doorknob, but when he doesn't hear any more footsteps behind him, he turns back around. He sees Argenti clutching himself, somehow looking even more pale than before. He looked…Gods, he looked horrified.
"What's wrong?" Boothill asks, looking around just in case Argenti saw something that he didn't.
"I…" A hiccup interrupts The Knight. "I shouldn't be…I shouldn't be here."
The cowboy blinks and slowly lets go of the handle. "Yer not in any danger here, friend, I promise. Look, my dads can get'chu back on your feet and send you on your merry way, we ain't expectin' you to stay, I'm sure you've got a ship somewhere."
"A ship…" The white-haired man whispers to himself. "R-right, a ship, yes."
The Knight forces the nausea back down, trying his best to straighten his posture and look a little more confident. Even if it was a lie, it would get him out of here faster.
"Yes, I have…A ship, it's just a bit far from here, is all."
"Right. So don't feel bad 'bout stayin', we'll care for you for a few days, and I'll get you back to your ship after. Deal?" Boothill offers with a kind smile.
"…Okay." Argenti nods as he slowly climbs the stairs to the porch, each little creak sending a shiver down his spine. When the cowboy pushes the door open, he immediately calls out.
"Dad! Pa! I found somebody in the fields again!"
The smell of fresh bread, meat, old eucalyptus and aged wood hits Argenti's nostrils all at once. The whole house was filled with various trinkets, pictures, seemingly homemade pieces of furniture, scraps of metal, and much more. Everywhere Argenti turns, he sees thirty more things he didn't notice the first time. Boothill kicks off his boots casually, rolling his sleeves back down. The white-haired man just stands there, holding his breath.
A deep voice, thick with a southern twang, yells from another room. "If you keep findin' people, we're gonna run outta room here." It suddenly goes dead silent again. Argenti is left to assume the man spoke Boothill's real name. The cowboy points back to Argenti, more specifically, his shoes.
"You can take those off, you're free to roam around, just don't go upstairs quite yet."
Argenti nods and leans down to slip off his shoes, stepping onto the dark hardwood floor of the rest of the house. Another voice finally chimes in from nearby.
"Now what happened this time, hm?" A man peeks out from the kitchen, wiping his hands off on a rag before stopping in his tracks. The man has long brown hair done in a braid that rests on his shoulder, kind and down-turned brown eyes looking Argenti up and down. He has a medium build, nothing astonishing, but it's clear that he works. His expression was gentle, welcoming and beautiful. The way he spoke showed hints of a lost French accent, making room for a more Southern one. Light pink lips spread in a gentle smile.
"Well, look at you. How did you get all the way out here?" He asks, trying to be gentle with his tone.
Argenti's chest feels impossibly tight as he tries to stammer out the same excuse he told Boothill, but in the face of…
…
Facing somebody that Argenti knew was dead, it causes him to lose all of his words.
Boothill slowly wanders over to the brown-haired man and leans in close. "Pretty sure his ship ain't workin', found him wanderin' around in the fields. Poor guy's scared to death. Doesn't look like he's eaten in a while, too." The cowboy whispers. The other man nods and steps forward, taking both of Argenti's trembling hands.
"My name is Graey, what's yours?"
The Knight shivers and chokes on his own words for a moment. He forces the lump in his throat back down before finally speaking. "My name is Argenti."
Graey looks delighted. "A unique name, beautiful! Come in, don't be shy, plenty of places to sit. I imagine you're quite tired; the heat has not been kind recently." Before the worried white-haired man could politely decline, Graey would tug him forward and guide him over to one of the chairs at the dining table. "When was the last time you ate, by the way? I was just making something."
"I-I cannot recall," Argenti says, shoving his hands into his lap, shoulders becoming as stiff as a board. "But you need not waste your food on me."
"Waste? No, it's never a waste, you're our guest," Graey shakes his head, unable to even fathom the idea of cooking for somebody being a waste. "I hope you don't mind some bread for now."
The offer seems to ease Argenti's mind a little bit, his eyes widening with interest. "Are you sure? I would hate to take-"
Graey doesn't even allow Argenti to finish the apology before he waves the white-haired man off. "Nonsense, you're not taking anything at all, I'm offering it to you."
"Don't scare him off, Dad, shovin' food down his throat ain't gonna calm him down," Boothill jests, slowly taking his hat off his head.
"I am doing no such thing! I'm merely offering!" Graey retaliates, his voice pitching with offense.
"Like yer gonna take a "no" for an answer!" Boothill barks out a laugh before grabbing a glass, filling it with water from a kettle off to the side of the counter, condensation dripping off the sides. The cowboy walks back over to Argenti and sets the glass in front of him with a smile. "Sure you're thirsty as all get out, that sun's no joke."
Argenti clears his throat and brings the glass a little closer. "You have my thanks, B-" Just like before, the attempt at Boothill's name makes the man gag and slap his hand over his mouth. Is it because of the simulation? Why could he not say that name… "-My friend." Argenti coughs out.
Boothill, looking deeply concerned, would point behind himself. "Bathroom's down the hall if you need it, darlin'."
Argenti stands immediately, lightly running off. After closing the bathroom door a little harder than intended, he closes his eyes as the nausea slowly subsides. The Knight slowly pulls his trembling hand away from his lips, steadying his breathing. When he finally opens his eyes again, he is met with a sink and a mirror in front of him.
No matter how long he stares, he cannot recognize the man in his reflection.
Matted and mangy hair, a dead expression and hollow eyes. A few scars here and there that Argenti has nearly forgotten about. His neck was thin. The bags under his eyes made him look like a corpse. His collarbones protruded in a vile way. He hated everything he saw. Weak, undesirable, disgusting. The Knight raises his hand and caresses his own cheek to test if what he saw was real. The man in the reflection mimics his movements perfectly, much to his dismay.
Ugly.
Argenti shivers and shoves his face into his hands, unable to bear looking at himself anymore. He wanted to cry. He wanted to hide away, for he wasn't worthy of anybody's gaze. Why did the simulation do this to him? Why must he relive such a painful state in his life? He worked so, so hard to get away from this. He had done everything in his power to escape his own helplessness, his weakness, his reliance on the mercy of others that never came for free, or never came at all.
He made a name for himself, got on his own two feet, and continued to grow…And now look at him. Back to square one. Reliant. Weak. Unworthy.
Outside of the bathroom, Boothill would stare at the door with furrowed brows. Graey passes him, sets a plate with some bread down by the untouched glass of water.
"You're going to worry yourself to death, you know."
Boothill sighs and folds his arms, leaning back against the kitchen counter. "I know, Dad, but…"
"You are too kind at heart," The brown-haired man says, pointing an accusatory finger at his son. "I know that look in your eyes."
Boothill glances between his father and the bathroom door before sulking and opening his arms. "Oh come on, you should'a seen him, he kept flinchin' away from me like I'd beat him, he needs a bit of kindness before he leaves!" Graey turns his nose up and looks away. "Dad!"
"We hardly have room after you took that poor girl in," Graey huffs as he tosses a rag over his shoulder. "I don't think you plan on extending the house. We have nowhere to keep him! And that poor broken soul needs his own space."
"He can take my room for a while, Dad," Boothill tries, flashing his best, most convincing smile. It has no effect on his father.
"And what about the family that may be waiting for him, hm? Friends? Perhaps a partner?"
"W-Well I!" Boothill takes a slow breath in, but comes up short. "I-…I haven't gotten that far…"
"And that's my point! You hardly know this poor boy; you need to think this over." Graey heaves a heavy sigh and takes Boothill's hands. "He may also not want the help, son. We can't force him here if he doesn't want to stay." The mere thought seems to sadden Boothill, who glances away. "We'll make sure it's safe for him to leave, of course, but we can't just tie him down. Talk about it with him gently."
"I will…" Boothill squeezes his father's hands before snapping his attention back to the bathroom after hearing the door open. Argenti slowly emerges, looking as guilty as can be. Boothill quietly approaches. "Doin' okay, darlin'?"
Argenti looks up, nodding before he even fully processes the question. He didn't feel right at all, but he certainly wasn't going to admit that. "Yes, I'm fine…I apologize if I caused you any concern."
"Nothin' to apologize for. Dad got you some bread, it's at the table for ya," Boothill points.
"Thank you," Argenti whispers as he bows his head to Graey. Boothill opens his mouth to speak again, but the creaking of the stairs draws his attention away from the conversation. A large, muscular man with beautiful, long black hair steps into view. He has stunning black eyes, sharp, chiselled features and an air of dominating confidence. He didn't look mean by any stretch, though Argenti wouldn't dare step up to him, even if he wasn't in such a weak state. His sharp eyes would land on The Knight, who then felt the need to sit up straight. Boothill takes note of the tension and aims to soothe it by breaking the silence.
"Ah, that's my other dad. You can call him Nick," Boothill turns to his father and gives him an urgent look, nodding to Argenti.
"I heard we had a guest, but I certainly didn't expect this," Nick grins.
"Oh, be nice!" Graey calls from the kitchen. "He's been nothing but a sweetheart, don't scare him off!"
"I've hardly said a word!" Nick calls back.
"Keep it that way!"
Argenti looks back and forth between the two men, finding himself unable to hide his smile at their banter. It was endearing, especially when he could draw some comparisons to his silver cowboy's witty comebacks.
"How's she doin'?" Boothill asks the larger man.
"Napping finally," Nick sighs. "I dunno how you do it, she never sleeps when I'm takin' care of her."
Argenti blinks in confusion, glancing between the two men as they talk amongst themselves, Boothill looking mighty proud of himself.
Nick approaches the white-haired man, who stands in order to greet him.
"Even though," A second of silence as Boothill's name is spoken, "Introduced me, I still wanna do it myself. You can call me Nick. And you are?" The larger man extends his hand, which Argenti takes and does his best to match the force of his grip.
"My name is Argenti," He replies, trying to sound confident.
"Unique name, is it from around here?"
"Ah, no…Very far away."
"Where're you from, boy?" Nick retracts his hand and crosses his arms.
"I'm not sure if you w-would know it," Argenti stammers, finding that his confidence was suddenly wavering under the intense gaze of the older man.
"You'd be surprised," Nick frowns, not backing down. Boothill cringes and tries to interject, but Nick seems adamant about getting an answer.
"I-I," Argenti grips his own wrists for comfort. "I…am f-from Pteruges-V…" He whispers, as if it were a shameful admission. He hardly utters the name of his home planet to anyone, more so due to it being buried under bloody, repressed memories, but it has suddenly become easy to recall. Much to the Knight's surprise, Nick's expression softened significantly.
The larger man takes a step back and nods. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to press like that. I just get worried about strangers in the house."
"I understand," Argenti bows, avoiding his gaze still.
"Where's your ship?" Nick asks, putting his hands on his hips. "Depending on what kind it is, I can probably get it up and runnin' for you again."
"My ship…W-well, it's very far away, I walked for a long while before," Argenti staggers to a stop, at a loss for what to call Boothill. He will get sick if he says the name he knows, but the simulation has prevented him from knowing the man's true name. "…Before your son found me."
"Probably ain't too far if we go with the horses," A sharp clearing of Graey's throat grabs the black-haired man's attention, the other man glaring at him, silently telling him to drop the subject. "Aah..Well, that's neither here nor there for now, I'm sure you're exhausted from walkin' around all day."
Boothill slouches with a relieved sigh, Graey shaking his head with disapproval. Nick pats the white-haired man's shoulder and offers a grin. "Didn't mean to scare you."
"It's okay, sir," Argenti says with a shake of his head, flinching at the volume of the laugh that follows, Nick shaking both his hands in denial.
"None of that 'sir' nonsense, don't gotta be so formal."
"Right…"
"Now, if you boys are done," Graey sighs loudly, dramatically even. In the time that Argenti and Nick were talking, the brown-haired man had managed to fill the table with food and drinks. "Lunch."
Boothill springs forward and grabs a chair from the living room, quickly scooting it into the empty space at the table. He looks to Argenti, who takes the hint and sits down, needing to hold back a squeak of surprise when Boothill pushes him in before taking his own seat. Nick and Grey sit by each other and start an idle conversation about the fields and the upcoming harvest. Argenti finds himself curious and looks at both of their hands. No rings. He looks for a necklace, knowing most people who are employed in manual labor won't wear their rings due to safety, but even then, he finds nothing.
Perhaps he was assuming too much, but it truly did seem like they were closer than friends simply by the way they spoke and how close they were physically. Argenti was always working under the assumption that Boothill's dads were married, but it seems he misunderstood…
Argenti busied his mind and picks at the bread he was provided earlier. The world around him faded as he started thinking of what his next steps would be. Certainly, he couldn't stay here forever; his time is incredibly limited. He cannot lie forever about having a ship somewhere out in the fields. Furthermore, he cannot keep peering into Boothill's life like this; it was so far beyond disrespectful that it made the Knight's skin crawl.
He will simply forget he saw everything, force it out of his mind! Yes, that's it…
…
This was all false confidence; he couldn't possibly move on from something like this, never, no.
A gentle nudge would shock him back to the present moment, where he whips his head around to see Boothill with a smile, trying to hold his laughter.
"You spaced out."
Argenti glances down and sees that his plate is suddenly full of food. If he had to infer, Graey probably served him.
"My apologies," Argenti sighs, about to try and explain himself, but the brown-haired man gestures to his plate.
"Eat, dear, you're practically withering."
"And you said I was being mean," Nick chuckles, already halfway through his…Nauseatingly large amount of food.
"I said it because I mean it," Graey turns and points at the other man with his knife. "And I'll say it again!"
"Easy, easy," Nick laughs, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Boothill groans and cuts a piece of venison for himself, cringing at his parents' antics.
"I don't know why I even cook for you," Graey sighs.
"Because you love me?" Nick offers.
"Hah! Hardly!"
"Y'all wouldn't have been puttin' up with each other this long if you didn't love each other," Boothill cuts in.
"Actually, I was here first. I found this one digging in the trash." Nick gestures to Graey.
"I am NOT a raccoon!!" The other man squeals, wholly undignified.
Argenti can't help it; he laughs and pushes the back of his hand to his lips in an attempt to hide the noise.
"See? He thinks I'm funny!" Nick howls.
"It's out of pity, and nothing else, you oaf."
Boothill snorts and puts his head in his hands. The two older men go back and forth, no actual, intentional insults thrown at each other, all playful banter. Perhaps the Knight wasn't wrong in his assumptions after all… Argenti glances down at his food. His stomach still felt tight after vomiting not so long ago, but it would be rude if he didn't at least have a few bites. Argenti lifts his knife and fork and decides to try some of the venison, which Boothill seemed to be quite fond of, if the pace of his consumption is anything to go by. Graey was watching hopefully as Argenti tried it, smiling proudly when the white-haired man's eyes suddenly lit up like a circuit board.
This was the best thing he's ever had!
It melts in your mouth, the spices are immaculate, and suddenly Argenti is far too aware of how hungry he really is. He was embarrassed, didn't want to eat too quickly, but he couldn't help it. Everyone else at the table didn't seem to mind, especially Graey, who seemed quite proud of himself now. It's only a couple of moments before Argenti finishes, alongside Boothill and Nick. Graey eats a lot slower, seemingly critiquing his own cooking by the array of facial expressions he makes, along with the mumbling to himself.
Boothill is the first to stand up, grabbing the empty dishes before bringing them to the kitchen. Argenti quickly gets up, stammering as he offers his help. Boothill laughs as he accepts it.
Nick puts the leftovers away, and Graey starts to clean the kitchen. Everything is done within twenty minutes.
Boothill perks up a little while after he dries off the last plate and excuses himself, leaving just Argenti and Graey. The brown-haired man gives Argenti a quick glance before folding his arms.
"Well, now that you have some food in you, how are you feeling, dear?"
The Knight seems startled by the question, but quickly recovers. "I'm feeling much better. You are too kind, thank you for everything you gave me." He bows his head.
"You're so polite," Graey sighs fondly. "But honestly, you don't have to be formal with any of us; we aren't those kinds of people. You're not the first stranded person we've taken care of, and you certainly won't be the last."
Argenti blinks and cups his hands over his sternum. "Do…You have visitors often?"
"You'd be very surprised. A lot of people with damaged or run-down ships see how empty the land is here and will crash-land or stop by. Lots of people from your planet have been around these parts as well."
Argenti melts a little. "I see…"
"Nick is a lot better with the ships than I am; I'd just make everything worse, honestly. Nick is also a lot more into interstellar politics than I, I think it's a bunch of nonsense, but from what I've heard," Graey pauses and rolls his wrists, trying to find the right words. "I have heard that things aren't looking great on Pteruges-V."
"It is plagued by war…Sensless war." Argenti slowly brings himself into a hug. "There are very few escape plans for civilians there, so…I-It makes sense that people crash here, under prepared. They shut down the docks many years ago."
Graey's eyes soften as he lifts his hand, gently patting Argenti on the head. "You're a very strong young man."
Argenti's eyes began to sting, his body feeling heavy. "Thank you…"
"Nick can take a look at your ship in a few days once you've had some time to recover. For now, focus on yourself. And if you need anything at all, let me know. I stay in the house a lot of the time, so just yell for me, and I'll find you, dear."
The Knight nods and sniffles.
"Thank you."
It's been a few hours since everybody had parted ways to do their own thing. Argenti couldn't stand the feeling of being inside the house any longer, so he stepped outside and watched the clouds slowly travel through the sky. A bright pink has painted the sky as the sun gets ready to set. Mourning doves sing their woeful songs, and the wind whispers to the Knight kindly. He will admit that he misses this scenery when he travels. Recently, he has only been to planets in distress. He hardly has time to stop and admire the beautiful gifts that nature gives him.
It's helped him relax, made room for him to think properly. As a strong breeze passes by, the wind chimes start to sing, and Argenti's lashes flutter shut. It's so…Peaceful. To think this is what Boothill was able to experience every day, once upon a time. He slowly opens his eyes again and looks out into the seemingly infinite golden sea of crops. He wonders how long he would last if he simply…Left. Started walking, never looking back. Boothill warned him that if he stayed out here, the night may freeze him, but part of Argenti thinks that wouldn't be such a bad thing.
The little Herta puppet said that if one were to 'die' in the simulation, it would immediately return one to the real world. Perhaps if he simply allowed Mother Nature to claim his life…
He's never thought of such things before. Life is a beautiful thing, not to be hastily taken away by one's hand. That's what he believes, at least. But this feels different. He is sure that The Beauty would forgive him, understand what he was truly intending. Idrila…
Argenti is left to wonder if his connection to THEM is even here, or if it was lost to the coded world around him. Dropping his hands to his side, he clutches the cross that rests at his hip. Whispering under his breath, he recites the prayer he has said a thousand times over, praising Idrila's name and asking THEM for THEIR strength.
The mourning doves start to sing again, Argenti's restless heart melting to their calls. Whether or not it was The Beauty trying to reach out, trying to soothe THEIR knight, Argenti couldn't tell. He tells himself that it is, just for the comfort of it. Soon enough, Argenti finally gets the courage to step off the porch, the old wood creaking beneath his feet.
He's set his mind to it. Argenti would walk until he simply couldn't anymore. He will find a way out or die trying-
"Where you goin', darlin'?" A familiar voice calls out, stopping the poor Knight dead in his tracks. He daren't turn around yet, fearful that his conviction and dedication to his plan will crumble if he looks his friend in the face again.
"I was…Going to walk for a while," Argenti shivers. "Not too far."
"In the shape you're in, I wouldn't recommend it," Boothill replies, clearly trying not to offend by the tone of his voice. "Why don't you retire for the night, yeah? If the couch don't sound comfy, I'll tidy my room up real quick, and you can take it."
Argenti cringes. "N-No, I wouldn't take that from you-…" When Argenti turns around, his whole body goes cold. His expression drops, and the tips of his fingers start to tingle. The nausea returns with a newfound passion, drool already pooling in his mouth. Cradled within Boothill's arms…
A child. A sweet-looking little girl with bright red hair and unforgettable green eyes. She couldn't be older than a year or two, but her eyes were full of wonder, wide and aware. Clutched in her tiny hands was a stuffed rabbit toy with a bow-tie. She wore blue overalls with a plain white shirt and small leather boots that seemed to have been worn long before she was around. Her eyes were locked onto Argenti, as his were to her.
Whatever Boothill was saying was going in one ear and out the other. Argenti couldn't recognize any of the words he uttered. Boothill, figuring that Argenti simply couldn't hear him, starts to walk over and notices that Argenti's eyes follow his daughter.
The black and white-haired man laughs. "Well, I guess I never told you I had a kid, huh?" He leans in a little closer to the redhead. "Can you say hi?"
She takes a minute to register her father's words, but once she does, she leans out towards the Knight, opening and closing her fist in a greeting. Argenti swallows thickly and waves back, his hand trembling violently.
Boothill smiles proudly and kisses the top of her head before addressing Argenti again. "Her name's Clementine. Found her out in the fields over there, not another soul in sight," The cowboy nods to a slightly raised patch of land with a large tree in the middle. "Lucky I caught her when I did, the sun had just set."
"Very lucky…Yes," Argenti whispers, slowly reaching for Clementine with an extended finger. "I am…Uh…C-Congratulations." The Knight stammers, unsure of what to say or do. Clementine would lunge for Argenti, arms extended in confidence as she squeals. Argenti panics and clamps his hands onto the little girl's sides to prevent her fall.
Boothill only laughs. "She's been doin' that a lot. Gave me a heart attack the first few times, lemme tell ya," The cowboy slowly hands Clementine off to Argenti, whose eyes are wide and joints stiff with uncertainty. "You can hold her, just support her bottom."
Argenti nods and shifts her onto his forearm, his other hand supporting her back. The two of them stare at each other, Clementine smiling brightly as she wiggles around, Argenti unsure of what to do, his lips slightly parted.
Boothill puts the back of his hand to his mouth and snorts, drawing Argenti back from his trance. "Sorry, you just look so stiff. She ain't gonna bite you, ain't nothin' to worry about there."
"A-Apologies, I've just…Not done this before, I feel out of place is all," Argenti tries to explain, glancing away. The black and white-haired man looks between the two of them and smiles fondly, his eyes falling half shut.
"You've got the same eyes, y'know?"
The comparison shakes something inside of Argenti's heart. He hesitantly looks back at the child in his arms. Boothill was right. They had the same eyes. Bright green, shimmering and curious. The Knight finally broke. Clementine flinches when a drop of water falls onto her cheek, Argenti not realizing he was crying before it was too late. When Boothill notices as well, he goes pale, scrambling to take back his words.
"I-I didn't mean nothin' by it, I'm sorry," He says, carefully taking Clementine back. She seemed to pick up on Argenti's distress, her eyebrows furrowing as she made more of a fuss about being held. "I'm sorry if I offended you, Argenti, really wasn't my intention."
The white-haired man shakes his head and clasps his hand over his mouth, unable to speak without feeling a sharp pain in his chest. The floodgates are threatening to break. Taking a few steps back, Argenti finally turns away and blindly starts to walk. He doesn't even know where; he just can't look at this poor little girl anymore, can't bear to look at those eyes. Boothill starts to go after him, but Nick's voice calling him back inside the house stops him in his tracks. Gritting his teeth, he jogs back inside, setting his mind to coming back once he deals with whatever his father needs.
Every step Argenti takes feels as though he is walking on knives, his breathing quickly collapsing into gulps of air as he desperately tries to steady himself. Violently swiping his palms against his cheeks, the Knight tries to hide his tears away, but to no avail; they simply won't stop…
Stumbling his way towards the barn, Argenti heaves and sobs, pressing his face into his hands in a poor attempt to hide his shame. This felt like torture. How could you expect him to keep it together when he is forced to look at the face of a dead child? Yes, she was alive and well in this moment, but Argenti knew what was going to happen; he ached with the burden of knowledge. He knew what would happen to Nick, Graey, Clementine and eventually Boothill. Argenti wants nothing more than to scream at them to get out, leave, evacuate while they can! But…
They have no reason to believe him. He's just some weak, scrawny man that Boothill found in the open fields with nothing to his name. Boothill and his family have done nothing wrong; there's no reason for them to think they're in danger.
Coming to a stop in front of the barn, Argenti finally collapses to his knees. Heaving loudly, the overwhelming grief does not stop its assault on his poor heart, his mind conjuring up images of what is to happen to this poor family. Thinking of the heartbreak spread across Boothill's face, the fear in Clementine's eyes, the expression of horror on Graey and Nick's faces.
He can't take it.
The animals inside the barn all look at Argenti with concern. The horses have their ears pinned back, while the goats and calves side-eye him. The dirty orange cat from before would cautiously approach the white-haired man, giving him a little "mrrrph" before nuzzling into one of Argenti's hands.
Argenti lifts his hands from his face and looks at the cat, tail twitching with confused worry. The Knight smiles a little before wiping his hands free from salty tears on his pants and gently petting the cat's head. It perks up into the man's touch, purring as loud as thunder.
"Hello, my friend," Argenti sniffles, his voice nasally. "Apologies that you must see me this way."
The cat makes another huffing sound.
"What am I to do?" The white-haired man whimpers, bottom lip quivering as another wave of sobbing threatens him. "None of them deserve this at all…Yet there is nothing I can do, I cannot simply change fate…Or perhaps I am stuck here for the rest of my days…?" The cat sits down, staring up at Argenti as if it understood him well. "I could not possibly burden them like this. I cannot simply…Ugh," Argenti slowly lays onto his back. "I cannot simply continue to peer inside of my dear friend's life like this. I've already seen and heard far too much…"
The cat would crawl up onto the Knight's chest, purring even louder as it started to make biscuits.
"He would never forgive me if he knew what I've seen today…" Argenti whispers, slowly stroking the furry friend's back. In reply, the cat shoves itself forward and headbutts Argenti in the chin, making the white-haired man chuckle. "Perhaps you're right. I have been rambling quite a bit."
"Mrrph."
"…Thank you for listening, my friend."
Nightfall swiftly makes its entrance, casting the land into a soothing darkness that is only lightly cured by the radiance of the full moon. Boothill quietly leaves the house, clicking on his flashlight. He was advised by Graey that Argenti needed his space, but he was getting worried. The white-haired man still hasn't come back, and the frigid winds would surely eat away at his frail body.
The quiet hum of the generator beside the house accompanies the chirps of the crickets and the quiet calls of the owls. The cowboy scans the area slowly, trying to trace Argenti's steps; at least, the steps he could see before they parted ways. Even though the shadows of night hid it away, Boothill knew the barn was straight ahead and thought that maybe Argenti had decided to hunker down for the night inside. The hay can get pretty warm, Boothill's certainly taken his fair share of catnaps there.
The black and white-haired man cups his hand to his lips and yells, "Argenti!" Just to warn the skiddish man of his approach. The last thing he wants is for Argenti to get startled and scare the horses as well.
No reply, though.
Boothill sighs quietly, his breath dancing in front of him before he presses on. The collective snoring and quiet sounds of all the animals make the cowboy grin. Flashing the light across the ground, Boothill couldn't find any signs of Argenti. His stomach began to twist for a moment when he also couldn't spot one of the horses. Did he really take off?
Stepping up to the stable, Boothill is half relieved to see the stallion had simply huddled off to one side, out of view. Though he wasn't entirely relieved, since he still didn't have answers to where Argenti was. Running a hand through his hair, he bites at his bottom lip, wracking his brain to try to come up with his next steps.
He's only broken out of his spiral once he hears a very proud but sleepy meow. Boothill turns, two gleaming eyes peering at him from the corner closest to the barn entrance. The orange cat was standing there, their squinting and judgmental expression telling Boothill it wasn't all too pleased with being woken up in such a manner. Boothill smiles awkwardly and whispers.
"Well, I'm sorry, bud, but I've gotta find Argenti."
Their tail twitches, and they slowly turn around, ducking back into the small space between the stable and the barn wall. Boothill frowns, knowing the cat prefers the hay rather than a corner. The cowboy follows and feels a rush of cold adrenaline when he sees Argenti cuddled up as small as he could manage, easily fitting into the small space. His white hair reflects the moonlight perfectly, illuminating him in an almost ethereal way. His eyes were closed, but Boothill could see the puffy redness that surrounded them. How was he able to sleep like this?
So cramped and cold…
The cat sneakily tries to climb back into Argenti's lap, but Boothill grabs them. Making an indignant growl, the cowboy would sigh and mouth, 'I know, I know.'
Crouching down and reaching out, he carefully touches Argenti's arm and shakes him. His skin was so cold…
"Argenti," Boothill whispers. No reaction yet. Boothill waits for a moment, watching the white-haired man's whispy breath flutter from his nose. Boothill shakes him again. "'Genti."
In an instant, hearing that version of his name had his eyes snapping wide open, like he was ready for battle. An almost automatic "Yes?" Would tumble out of his mouth. For the briefest of moments, in Argenti's hazy vision, he could see Boothill, his Boothill. The one whose metal body shines gloriously, whose smile is sharp and gleaming. But he blinks, and it's all gone. A part of him feels complete despair, knowing he is still stuck in this simulation. His shoulders slowly sag, and he closes his jaw with a click of his teeth.
"Hey…" Boothill says softly, seemingly out of words now.
"..Greetings," Argenti replies.
The cowboy slowly adjusts himself so he's on his knees. "What are you doin' sleepin' out here? You'll catch a cold."
"I…" Am used to these conditions."…I will be fine."
"No you aren't, you're shiverin' and cold as ice," Boothill says firmly, holding out his hand for Argenti to take. Though the Knight hesitates. He couldn't possibly go back to the house…
"I shouldn't take up space-" Argenti can hardly finish his sentence before Boothill frowns and shakes his head, completely baffled.
"This ain't about you takin' up space, darlin', it's the fact that you need care." Argenti blinks, his lips parting. "Now I don't know what yer goin' through, but I do know that you ain't in any condition to be out here, freezin' yourself to death. You're allowed to be in our house. I wouldn't have brought you here if you weren't."
"But…"
"I'd feel like crap if I just let you sleep out here, ain't nobody in their right mind who would let that happen."
A wave of guilt hits Argenti like a truck. He's been so caught up in his own emotions that he hasn't even considered how his actions may have affected Boothill. Simulation or not, it doesn't give Argenti the right to ignore others' feelings and their needs. Fingers trembling, the white-haired man would carefully take Boothill's hand. He couldn't help the gasp that tears its way through him as Boothill easily hoists him to his feet. Even the cowboy seemed a bit surprised by how effortless it was.
Silently, they began their walk back, the orange cat following close behind. Boothill holds the flashlight steady in front of them so they don't trip on anything in the fields, the silence slowly starting to eat at him. Glancing at Argenti, the black and white-haired man finally speaks.
"Uh…I'm sorry if what I said offended you, darlin'. About Clementine."
Argenti's eyes widen, and he quickly scrambles to reassure his friend, though he ends up tripping over his words, uttering a completely incomprehensible mess of syllables. His cheeks flush horribly, and he grits his teeth together. He isn't normally this way, and he wishes the Boothill in front of him could understand this, but instead, he's forced to look at the utterly confused look on the other man's face.
Frustration takes hold of the Knight, along with the burning static of embarrassment that wells in his chest. Boothill can see this as clear as day and stops dead in his tracks.
"Take yer time," He says with a shake of his head.
Argenti hugs himself and takes a slow, deep breath in through his nose. The cold night air burns his nostrils, but it also acts as a way to ground him. The pain temporarily takes his attention, giving him just enough time to think of what he wants to say.
"You have not offended me, not at all…All of your generosity and kindness have made my situation much easier. It's just that…"
Oh, how to explain this..
"…You remind me of a very close friend. Somebody I hold very dear to me."
Boothill's expression drops a bit, empathy and concern slowly seeping into his features. "Is it somebody from yer planet?" He asks carefully.
Argenti pauses, thinking of how to reply. There's no way to explain the truth. Even if the simulation did not silence him, he would sound mad; nobody would believe him in a million years. "Yes, he was."
Boothill picks up on the past-tense and assumes the worst. His shoulders sag, and he looks at Argenti with great sadness that clearly carries a weight. "I'm really sorry, Argenti."
A solemn nod. "I suppose…That is why I feel so…" Argenti gestures aimlessly, eventually putting his hands to his chest. "…So scattered and broken. I look at you and I see his face."
"I see," Boothill whispers, averting his gaze. "I'm…I'm real sorry to hear that."
"It's not your fault," The Knight scrambles, waving his hands around. "I shouldn't be letting my emotions cloud my vision."
"'Genti," The name feels like a dagger to the other man's gut. "You're mourning. It's okay to have emotions. Aeons know I've had moments like that, maybe seein' a familiar face that I've been missin' for a while."
"But…"
Boothill adjusts himself to face the Knight directly and takes a few steps closer. "You're. Fine."
Argenti sinks into himself a little more, feeling like a guilty puppy getting scolded. His Boothill would say the same thing. His dear silver cowboy's heart has always been kind, it's clear to Argenti now.
"You're allowed to hurt, y'know that right?" Boothill asks softly. "Nobody here's gonna judge you. I dunno what you went through back in yer home planet, but here? Ain't nobody gonna lay a hand on you. No yellin', nothin'." The cowboy slowly holds out his hand, offering the kindest smile to the white-haired man. "C'mon."
Argenti silently takes the other man's hand, his eyes burning as he holds back tears.
They both return home, quietly.
Hand in hand.
When Argenti wakes up the next day, it startles him. Perhaps in the back of his mind, he thought that his inactivity would have caused the simulation to kick him out. Or perhaps that's just what he was wishing for. He blinks, not even remembering how he got in this room or when he fell asleep. Rubbing his eyes free from the haziness of rest, he looks around the unfamiliar room.
On the walls were various paintings of landscapes, a few black and white photographs too far away to discern, a large hide with a beautiful, shining coat of fur, and a few shelves that displayed various firearms, all of which were beautifully intricate. Argenti lay on a small bed with a heavy, handmade quilt on top of him, a few children's clothing articles and shoes strewn about, along with a few toys here and there. Every drawer had a child lock on it, and every sharp corner had something soft hastily taped to it.
The Knight goes to run his fingers through the ends of his hair, but ends up grabbing nothing. He'd almost forgotten. He looks down at his hands, trembling and thin. Nothing's changed…
Trying not to look at much else in an attempt to save Boothill's privacy, Argenti hastily gets out of bed, fixes the sheets and blankets, fiddles around with the child lock around the door handle and swiftly makes his exit. As quietly as he could manage, he made his way down the creaking stairs and into the living room.
There, he could see the top of Boothill's head resting on the recliner. Upon further inspection, he could also see little Clementine resting on his chest, held safely in Boothill's arms. A large wet spot shimmered by Clementine's lips, soaking right through Boothill's shirt. Boothill himself was snoring rather loudly, and it baffles the Knight that it hasn't woken up the little girl. Does he still snore like that…?
In the kitchen, Argenti flinches at the sudden sound of pots and pans shifting around. He peers around the corner, finding Graey already hard at work to make breakfast. His hair was in a perfect braid, cheeks rosy, eyes wide and ready. He must have been awake for quite a while, despite it being so early in the morning. Graey spots Argenti spying and greets him with a smile. Argenti is quick to return it and bow his head.
"Good morning," Argenti says quietly, trying to ignore the quiver in his voice.
"Oh, you don't need to whisper, I'm sure those two could sleep through a tornado," Graey says, rolling his eyes dramatically. "And yes, bonjour, my boy."
Argenti could feel his face flush a little bit. He cups his hands in front of him and looks at the array of ingredients neatly prepared on the counter. "Uhm…Would you like some help?"
"Hm? With breakfast?" Graey asks, seemingly quite surprised at the offer.
"It is the least I can do since you're housing me…" Argenti scratches at his arm, but it's quickly patted away by the older man. "I would be remiss to let you do all of this by yourself."
"My, you're so polite! I certainly wouldn't say no to the help, it's not every day I get it since that big log sleeps until the afternoon," Graey says with a bit of sass, gesturing to the upper floor. Argenti bites his tongue to hide his giggle.
"What can I do to help?"
Graey straightens up and points at a small sack of potatoes at the far end of the counter. "Wash and dice those if you don't mind, thank you."
Argenti nods and rolls his white sleeves up, washing his hands before handling any of the food. The washing of the spuds was simple enough; Argenti hardly had to think about it, but when it came to the dicing? He suddenly found himself a little lost. When you really only eat a loaf of bread every week, you are under prepared for most kitchen settings. His cuts were uneven, and he felt he had to force the knife down even though the edge was perfectly sharp.
Graey takes notice of this after finishing whisking egg yolks in a large glass bowl. He glances between Argenti and the knife, worried the boy may hurt himself.
"Argenti," He says softly, trying to seem casual. The Knight looks over, his face showing clear frustration and worry. "I'm sorry if this is blunt, but have you ever cooked before?"
"…I..Usually just have bread. I was never properly taught how to cook."
"Well," The brown-haired man sighs and wipes his hands off on his apron. "Let me give you a few tips. You're working far too hard right now." Argenti steps aside, allowing Graey to guide his hands. "You're pressing down on the knife, which is fine, but what you really want is to be at an angle, press the tip of the knife into the cutting board, and slice. Let the knife do the work."
The older man gives Argenti a few examples of how he could hold the knife before letting Argenti try it himself. The first two swipes were a bit difficult, but he's always been a fast learner. He gets the hang of it in no time. Graey smiles proudly.
It wasn't long before Boothill woke up from the smell coming from the kitchen, and Clementine soon followed. Shuffling his way into the kitchen with his little girl safely tucked in his arms, Boothill sleepily looks at the array of dishes.
"Right on time! Now that everything's done, you decide to wake up! Avoiding helping your poor old father." Graey huffs loudly, tossing his braid over his shoulder. Boothill scoffs and whines in offense. "You're just as bad as Nick."
"Wha-?! I was up all night takin' care of Clem, that ain't my fault!" The cowboy argues.
"When you were little," Boothill cringes, realizing his mistake. "I stayed up until midnight every single night, all because you wanted to play outside. And what did I do?" Graey thrusts his fists against his hips.
"…You made breakfast in the mornin'." Boothill mumbles, Clementine looking at him with confusion.
"And I didn't complain!" Graey scoffs.
"No, you didn't.." Boothill looks away.
Argenti looks between the two men, fiddling with his thumbs. Boothill certainly got his attitude from Graey, his sarcasm too.
"And Mr.Argenti here helped as well," Graey huffs, gesturing to the white-haired man, who flusters and puts his hands to his chest.
"I-I really didn't do much; it was mostly your father."
Boothill's expression softens a little, and he looks at Argenti with a subtle grin. "Well, I'll be, look at you."
Argenti blushes, looking away. Graey smiles sweetly and waves Boothill off. "Oh hush, you'll scare him off. The food's getting cold! Plate up! I'll go get that man out of bed, useless oaf."
"Don't hit 'em too hard." Boothill chuckles. On his way by, Graey lightly tickles Clementine's stomach, to which she squeals with glee. Boothill fake gasps. "What's he doin'?" Clementine giggles and shakes her head. Argenti could feel his heart melting more and more by the minute.
They were so sweet together…
Boothill grabs a plate of food for himself, thanking Argenti again and again for all the help, and eventually makes a small plate of some potatoes and eggs, something easy for her to chew on, and easy to clean up.
Argenti and Boothill sit down at the table, Clementine picking at her food happily in her own world. The Knight keeps glancing up at the cowboy, finding himself curious and anxious for a reaction to the food he assisted with. Argenti is pleased when his beautiful grey eyes light up, and he starts to eat a little faster.
After about five minutes, Greay's voice can be heard from upstairs.
"And I'm not waking you up next time!"
"You said that last time," Nick grumbles, slowly shuffling down the stairs.
"I mean it!"
"Sure you do, amour."
"Now don't you sweet-talk me!!" Graey yelps, though you don't need to see his face to know he's blushing. Argenti chuckles to himself, Boothill sighing loudly. Soon enough, the two men would join everyone else at the table, Graey still grumbling about how Nick was late, but the older man clearly wasn't taking in any of the lecture. A comfortable silence fell over the group.
A little less than thirty minutes later, Argenti, Boothill and Clementine have all emptied their plates. The Knight tries to collect all of the empty dishes, but Boothill quickly beats him to it. Argenti blinks in astonishment and confusion.
"You cook, we clean," Boothill explains with a wink that twists Argenti's stomach in quite the pleasant way. The white-haired man only nods and sets his clasped hands back into his lap. He stays completely still, hardly even blinking. Nick glances over to Graey, who also picked up on this behavior.
"Gonna tire yourself out, tensing your shoulders like that, kid," Nick eventually says.
Argenti's eyes snap wide open as he looks to the man across from him. He forces his shoulders down, his skin going cold as his blood flow returns to normal. "A-Apologies."
"Not lookin' for an apology, kiddo, I know you're nervous," Nick says, clearing his throat after his final bite. "Prolly got a lot on your mind."
"..I do, yes," Argenti admits.
"Well," Nick pauses, seemingly losing some of his own confidence. "If you wanna talk about what's on your mind, yer welcome to. Doesn't do you any good to keep it in."
Graey stands immediately after Nick finishes his sentence, grabs the rest of the dishes, and leaves for the kitchen. Nick seems to relax after that. Argenti wonders to himself if Nick has some issues opening up to those he's closest to, like the Boothill he knows.
"I guess that…" Argenti reaches up and tries to grab his hair, but simply grabs the air. Right…He reaches up a little further and finally finds a piece to fidget with. "That I am worried I won't be able to make it back."
"To your planet?" Nick asks with a tilt of his head.
"That and…to my companions. I am missing them dearly." Argenti's eyes slowly drift over to the kitchen. "They're all I have."
"Mmh…" Nick grunts and folds his arms. "I know what you mean."
"You do?"
"I've lost a lot of people in my life. Almost lost Graey, too." The memory seems to bite at Nick's neck, making him shift uncomfortably. "It's never easy, even if it's temporary. But no matter what, we'll get you back. I'm sure your folks are missin' you too. You're a good kid, Argenti."
The ghost of a smile plays at Argenti's quivering lips. "You're very kind."
"It's the least I can do, kiddo. We'll start lookin' for your ship tomorrow, yeah?"
"Yes, thank you…"
"Also…" Nick pauses, leaning forward as he tries to find the right words, curling his lip. His teeth stick out, sharp and clean. "Really not tryna say anything by this, you look just fine. But if you ever need a shower or anythin', you're welcome to use what we have. Don't gotta keep yourself all cooped up here."
Argenti blinks.
A shower sounds…Really nice.
As the warm water ran down Argenti's back, he could feel every single muscle in his body gradually relax. With every breath he took, he felt a little more like himself. It was difficult to see the grunge that trickled out of his hair, the dirt that finally released itself from his skin. It took a while, but the water finally ran clear after scrubbing himself off a few times. While he had explicit permission to use any and all of the products in the shower, he didn't use much. Only the bare necessity, if not a little less.
Right now, he has no way of repaying any of them; he's already being selfish by long overstaying his welcome.
After a few more minutes, Argenti turns off the water and feels around for the towel he hung up on the rack nearest to the shower. He first dries his face so he can see better, then his hair, and finally his body. The fluffiness of the towel kept him warm for the most part. After covering himself properly, he draws back the curtain and blinks when he sees a stack of neatly folded clothes on the counter. Clothes that were not his. The cross he wore on his hip had been cleaned and respectfully placed on top of the clothes. Stepping out of the tub, he looks closer at the clothes he was seemingly given.
A simple white tank top, a burgundy flannel with black stripes, and a pair of soft jeans with red roses stitched on the sides of the thighs. They've been worn before, clearly by the subtle stains and thin areas at the inner thighs. Nonetheless, Argenti was beyond grateful. He quickly changes and looks at himself in the mirror. He doesn't usually check himself out; he finds it far too embarrassing, though he decides to indulge himself, just this once.
It wasn't easy to look at himself still, but even he had to admit: He looked good in this.
Taking great care in placing the cross' chain around his waist as it was before, he finally steps out of the bathroom and looks around the living room. He didn't see anybody, so Argenti quietly checks the kitchen. Graey wasn't there. After hearing a child's happy squeal from outside, the Knight peeks out the window to find that everybody has migrated outside. The white-haired man shuffles towards the door and sheepishly pushes it open, glancing to the left to see Graey working at a pair of clotheslines. He could see his shirt and pants that he woke up in, fluttering in the wind.
Argenti approaches the brown-haired man and folds his hands in front of him sheepishly.
"Graey," Argenti starts, keeping himself quiet to not startle the other man. "You didn't have to wash my clothes, you already have so much to do."
Graey raises his eyebrows and chuckles. "It's only a few more pieces, it's not like you're dumping multiple outfits in my basket. Nothing to worry about, my boy."
"Only if you're sure…A-and if you need help taking everything down and folding it, please tell me, I will assist where I can."
Graey smiles fondly. "If I need help, I will tell you." The Frenchman's eyes scan Argenti, up and down, then up again. "You look wonderful, by the way."
Argenti flushes a dark red as he grabs a piece of his hair again. "W-Well thank you very much, you're very kind to me."
Graey would nod and look just behind Argenti's head. The Knight follows their gaze and lands on Nick and Boothill, moving large, heavy crates filled with various crops and materials. Argenti briefly recalls a conversation between Graey and Nick the other day about a harvest. Though Argenti's full attention is completely stolen by Boothill, who had ditched his jacket and was left in a black tank top that was a size too small. His strength was clear, sweat-slick arms glistening in the merciless rays of the sun.
Long before the hydraulics and pistons, Boothill was incredibly strong; that much is now clear. The crates that probably weighed as much as Argenti did now seemed nothing more than child's play to the cowboy. Nick, however, was treating them as if they were filled with feathers. The two men spoke back and forth with each other through heavy breaths, talking about nothing in particular. Argenti must have been staring for too long because soon enough, Graey's voice grabbed his attention again.
"Wonderful view, isn't it?" He asks, eyes locked onto Nick. The Knight stammers for a moment, causing Graey to giggle. "I was only teasing. And besides, I'm sure that," A pause as Boothill's name is spoken. "-wouldn't mind you looking at him. He's always been such a showoff."
Argenti smiles. He always has been: dancing and taunting and shouting in every battle, simply because he could. "Do you think they need assistance?"
Graey seems a little surprised at the question. "Well…" A brief pause. "I think it might be best if you avoided heavy lifting…Forgive me if this is overstepping, but you are not in the greatest condition to be doing farm-work. It's very physically demanding. That's why I don't do it as well."
Argenti knew none of what the older man said was from any kind of malice, but he still couldn't help but feel guilty and sad. He was useless in this state; he wasn't even in his right mind. His confidence, his strength, everything was gone.
Just then, Argenti caught a glimpse of red hair in the corner of his eye. Clementine, wobbly on her feet, was stumbling towards one of the unstable crate stacks. She had her hands extended, like she was going to try to climb up the stack. Argenti knew for a fact they would crush her tiny body, so he ran forward, quicker than he knew this fragile body was capable of, and scooped her up. The little girl squeals and laughs.
"That's not for you, little one," Argenti laughs nervously. At least his agility hasn't left him… "How about we play somewhere else?"
Clementine squeals and immediately grabs a fistful of Argenti's hair, making him wince a bit. Her babbles and giggles drew the attention of Boothill, who quickly set down the crate in his hands.
"Now what're you doin' lil' miss, you know better than to grab," The cowboy chuckles, prying the little girl's fingers out of Argenti's hair. She giggles and reaches for her father, but he moves away. "I'm gross, darlin', can't touch me right now." Clementine blinks in confusion. "Yucky!" Boothill chuckles.
"Yucky!" Clementine copies, a huge grin on her face.
"Atta girl!"
Argenti smiles fondly. Boothill kisses his girl's head and gives the Knight his full attention. "I'm gonna be workin' for a while, but you're welcome to keep her entertained if you'd like. She ain't a bad kid, just a handful."
"Sounds like somebody I know," Graey comments. Boothill frowns and grits his teeth a little.
"Would it be helpful to you?" Argenti asks quietly.
"More than you know," The cowboy chuckles. The white-haired man would look back at Clementine, who grins at him eagerly. "It'll just be 'til Dad and I are done here, I won't make it an all-day thing."
"I can certainly try my best."
Long after the field work was done, and everybody had huddled inside before the bugs started to eat them, Argenti finds himself in the kitchen yet again. Graey was playing with Clementine in the living room, Nick was in the basement, though Argenti was unsure what he was doing, and Boothill had rushed upstairs not too long ago. He seemed a bit frantic, insisting he had to do something while getting a rather stern glare from Nick.
Argenti glances out of the small kitchen window and sees the sky has been painted a gorgeous orange, pink and purple. A few early stars began to shine, bringing a smile to the Knight's face.
A crashing sound from upstairs causes Argenti to flinch and look up at the ceiling. A disappointed sigh could be heard from Graey. Argenti peeks out from the kitchen.
"Are you alright?" The Knight asks gently.
Graey doesn't say anything, just gives him a nod. Argenti wants to press more, but his body won't let him. His voice fails, and every time he tries to push through the anxiety, he feels almost sick. Clementine turns away from her toys and beams at the sight of Argenti, wobbling her way towards him. He smiles and scoops her up.
"Hello again, my adventurous friend."
"Has everything finished baking, Argenti?" Graey asks, groaning as he gets off the hardwood floors, snatching up some of the little girl's toys in the process.
"I believe so, but you are welcome to double-check me."
"I believe you," Graey huffs as he stretches his back. "You're a sweetheart for helping me. You've caught on to cooking quite quickly, if I may say so. Your skill is already very impressive."
Argenti feels his heart melting and cheeks flushing. "You are very kind."
"It's the truth," Graey passes by Argenti and pats him on the shoulder. "Having some more help around the house is nice. I'm not getting any younger."
Another crash from upstairs and the sound of rushing footsteps down the stairs causes the older man to pinch the bridge of his nose and groan. Argenti, finding himself at a loss of what to do, can only watch as Boothill scrambles towards the front door, wearing something…Oddly familiar.
The Knight glances over to Graey, who snaps his head over as soon as the door opens and assumedly shouts Boothill's true name, making the black and white-haired man freeze in his tracks. He turns around, and Argenti can finally get a good look at what Boothill was wearing. A grey, two-piece suit with a faded red tie, something that wracks Argenti's memories—he's seen this before…
There was a metal name tag on Boothill's left pec, but it was too far away for Argenti to decipher what it said.
"And just what do you think you're doing? Do you know how late it is?!" Graey says, actually raising his voice. Clementine nuzzles into Argenti's chest, not liking the volume.
"I-I-Well I'm just-" Boothill gestures to the door. "Th-there's just that thing, y'know and-"
"We're about to have dinner. And what have I told you about that uniform? I don't want it anywhere near the house!"
"But Pa, this one's important!" Boothill pleads.
"You say that every time!"
"Pa, I've really got somethin' this time, I've got an in!"
Graey grits his teeth, face flushing with anger and…worry. "You shouldn't be anywhere near those people. I know how important this whole thing is to you, and I know you want to do the right thing, but for Aeon's sake, you are going to get hurt!"
"I'll be safe, I swear it, Graey," Boothill slaps his hands together, slowly backing up toward the door.
Graey hangs his head. He thinks about it for a couple more seconds before shakily drawing in a breath.
"I want you back here in an hour. No more than that. Am. I. Clear?"
"Yes! Clear as day!" Boothill shouts as he runs out the front door, closing and locking it behind him. Graey sighs, his nose going red.
"That boy is going to give me a heart attack one day." The older man looks up at Argenti and sees the complete confusion on the Knight's face. "Apologies, Argenti. My boy has recently started this…Ah, I will call it a research project on an organization. This organization has been clouding our airspace recently, and he thinks something's up. But they're dangerous folk, I don't want him tangled in their messes."
An organization…
"Is it the I-" In an instant, Argenti is overwhelmed by a furious wave of nausea. He goes pale, causing Graey to take Clementine and set his hand on Argenti's shoulder.
"What's wrong? Are you going to be sick?"
The Knight tries to take a breath, but can only slap his hand over his mouth and cough. Thankfully, nothing comes up, though his legs suddenly feel weak. Graey carefully guides him to the nearest chair. The brown-haired man presses the back of his hand to his own forehead, then Argenti's.
"Mmh…Maybe you're just exhausted still," Graey adjusts Clementine in his arms, the little girl looking scared. Argenti forces a smile for her, which seems to ease her little mind. "I'll get you some water, my boy."
Argenti almost forgets to thank him; his mind is so occupied by the hurricane of thoughts rampaging through his mind. An organization that Boothill was investigating…
There's nothing else he can think of…
It's the IPC.
At the dinner table, Argenti sits in front of untouched food. He stares at it, wide-eyed and distant. Graey has hardly touched his food as well. Nick hasn't dished anything up yet, his plate as empty as Boothill's chair. The only one eating was Clementine, though she kept looking over for her father. You could hear a pin drop. The atmosphere was so heavy. It's been an hour and a half. There's no sign of Boothill.
Graey looks to be on the verge of tears, Nick is picking at his nails. They're worried for their boy.
Every time the night's cool breeze pressed against the front door, making the wood creak, all of them would turn towards it, hearts full of hope, only to be met with disappointment. After ten long, painstaking minutes, Nick finally stands up.
"I'm gonna find him," He says confidently.
"Nick, please, it's dark," Graey says, reaching for the other man's hand.
"It's been too long, he could be out there needin' help," Nick protests.
"Let me go with you, then."
"I'm not lettin' you."
"I can-" Argenti's voice catches in his throat, both of the other men turning to him. "I can go…You two should stay here."
"Argenti," Nick glances to Graey for help.
"We really appreciate your willingness to help, but you especially shouldn't be out there at night. You really need to rest," Graey says quietly.
"You two should be here for dear Clementine, and if he comes back, I'm sure he would want to see your faces first. Also, you both have been working all day; it is ill-advised to get into any altercations." Argenti looks down at his lap. "It is the least I can do, especially after everything you've done for me since I arrived."
The other men look at each other again.
"Come back soon, and scream for help if you need anything at all. We'll have the windows open so we can hear you," Graey says, carefully draping a red blanket over Argenti's shoulders, Nick handing the Knight a flashlight and backup battery. "Come back safe, okay?"
Argenti bows his head, taking everything with whispered gratitude. "I swear I will return unharmed."
"If you do end up finding," A moment of silence, "knock some sense into him," Nick grumbles, though his anger was born from deep-seated worry.
"I will do my best," The white-haired man nods and bows to them again.
Both of the older men wave goodbye, Nick quickly ushering his shivering partner inside the house. Argenti sets off with confidence, determined to find his companion, safe and sound. With every step he takes, the further he's plunged into darkness. His eyes play tricks on him, causing him to look every which way. The cold hands of anxiety digs its claws into his heart. His lip quivers, not just from the cold.
He whispers a prayer to himself, asking Idrila to help steel his will and guide his way. His breath flutters in front of him with every word. The Knight doesn't know if Idrila can reach him, but if nothing else, it gives him something to focus on beyond the dancing shadows in his vision.
By now, he's been searching for fifteen minutes, and still no luck. The only signs of life are the crows and owls scavenging the fields. The Knight started to feel defeated, the bitter cold seeping further and further into his bones to the point where it was almost agonizing, but he couldn't give up just yet. Argenti doesn't know the intimate details of Boothill's history with the IPC, but he knows enough. Boothill's been tortured by these people. He's sure that even without his cybernetic body, he can handle himself, but Argenti can't sit idly by while he could be in distress.
Just ahead of him, he could hear a disturbance in the wheat fields. He points his flashlight towards the source of the sound, seeing the outline of something racing towards him. Argenti widens his stance, ready for an enemy, but soon enough the light catches strips of white hair. Boothill!
"Hey!" Argenti calls out, waving his hand as he sprints towards his companion. "I-I've been looking for you!"
Argenti stops just a few feet away from Boothill, but…
The cowboy keeps running. As fast as he can.
"H-hey-" Argenti prepares himself to be knocked down, but the force of Boothill's body never comes. He just…passes right through Argenti. As if he wasn't even there. The sensation made Argenti gasp, a horrible chill running throughout his body. Lines of blue code ride up Argenti's arms until his form is solid again.
The Knight is stunned, stares at his own hands for a moment before a bright light, as bright as the sun, slowly overtakes the land. He turns around, unable to hold in his scream at the scene before him. A large, sleek, black ship rides high in the sky, spitting fire and destruction. The ground rumbles when the first bombs finally land. Argenti drops the flashlight, clapping his hands over his mouth.
"CLEMENTINE!!" Boothill screams at the top of his lungs, voice breaking as he stumbles over the uneven dirt of the tilled land.
Argenti chokes on his own breath as he starts to race towards the house. All around him, fire rains from the sky, bombs crashing down in every direction. His already smoke-damaged lungs can barely handle the pace he sets, but he'll be damned if he stops now! Boothill's cries ring out clearly despite the deafening explosions all around.
"PA! DAD!" His voice trembles and breaks, catching on his hysterical sobbing. "BABYGIRL!"
Argenti's almost caught up to the cowboy, wheezing loudly. But he never makes it.
He runs right into a wall of bright blue code that stops him from getting any further, knocks him down onto his back. Scrambling back up to his feet, Argenti slams his hands against this invisible force, screaming at the top of his lungs.
"Graey! Nick!" His pleas go unnoticed; Boothill doesn't seem to hear him.
Herta's words start to ring in his ears, over and over again.
"There are certain things you can't change."
"No matter what you do, it will always end the same."
No, no, no, it can't end this way, not again, no!
With all his strength, Argenti pounds his fists against the barrier, heaving as tears pour down his cheeks, as he can only helplessly watch Boothill try to break through the fire to get to his home, his home that mercilessly burns to the ground. He screams for his daughter, begs for her.
"PLEASE!" The cowboy shouts, trying to break down the front door.
Argenti can feel his knees collapse under him as the smoke attacks his lungs, causing his vision to go blurry. Behind him, a flash of light unlike the blazing inferno. A portal just like back in the Herta Space Station.
"No!" Argenti shouts. "No, not yet!!"
Argenti's begging goes unanswered, the pull of the vortex unable to be denied. He's dragged against his will, screaming the whole way as the whole world burns around him. He digs his fingers into the dirt, a desperate and vain attempt to stop himself, but it's no use.
"Please!!"
The Knight can only watch as Boothill collapses to his hands and knees, words muffled by the whirring of the vortex.
"Not yet, please!!"
His hand slips from the dirt.
"BOOTHILL!!"
All at once…The darkness consumes him.