This chapter is...

Quite something.

Warnings --->

WC: ~1200

Enjoy!

Everyone was silent.

The two brothers practically stared each other down, blue meeting red.

No one dared move.

Internally, Hels felt like he might just break down crying.

He wasn't going to, but he certainly felt like he would.

And all of a sudden, he's seven years old again, running from his older brother.

Hels collapses in a meadow.

It was a pretty place, one that he loved.

Grass that practically gleamed in the sunshine and flowers, and lots of space for a young boy to run to his heart's content.

But tonight, moonlight shines on the nature, casting an almost ominous aura, and the night air is pierced by the sounds of sobbing.

Hels hugs himself tightly, tears coming faster than he could stop them.

He's used to trying to stop them.

There aren't many days where he doesn't.

Hels sometimes wonders if most seven-year-olds feel like they're allowed to cry.

He's pretty sure that's true.

But crying is for the weak... right?

Crying is for the ones who are doomed to be squashed by their enemies.

Right?

Hels doesn't want to think about it any longer.

The boy rubs his hands together, smiling softly at the fire.

The warmth almost beats the inner ice.

Almost.

Hels quenches the fire, wiping tears from his eyes.

And then, suddenly, a voice,

"Are you okay?"

It's not Wels. It's not anyone he knows.

Hels simply curls in on himself even more, his throat too clogged to answer.

There's a shuffling sound, and then Hels is warm.

The young boy blinks his eyes open, and then realizes,

Someone was hugging him.

The realization only makes Hels cry harder.

Although he didn't understand it at the time, Hels felt... safe.

Safe in the arms of a stranger.

"Shh, don't cry," the person whispers. He's older than Hels but younger than Wels- a teenager, or perhaps even a young man. He wears a cowboy hat, which Hels finds rather amusing, but he also had rather pale skin. Ghostly pale, even. "What's your name?"

"H-Hels," he replies. "Who are you?"

"My name is Badtimes," there's a smile in the other's voice.

"You don't seem very bad," Hels points out. "And I'm not having a bad time with you."

"Why thank you," Badtimes chuckles.

"Why are you crying?" Badtimes asks after a moment of silence.

"My- my brother," Hels chokes out. "He- we- I don't-"

"Okay, don't talk about it if you don't want to," Badtimes murmurs. Hels nods slightly. He pulls back, wanting to see Badtimes completely.

Then notices he has laser-red eyes.

"Woah," Hels mumbles. "You have very red eyes."

"And you have eyes like flames," Badtimes remarks. "Flames... just like the ones you control."

That put Hels on edge.

"How-" he practically squeaks. "I- you can't- please-"

"It's oka-"

Badtimes's response was cut off by Hels, and what the boy said, although Hels didn't know it, completely shattered Badtimes's heart.

A whisper, his voice small.

"Please don't hurt me because of them,"

Badtimes stares in shock as Hels cowers, clearly terrified, because he's afraid that Badtimes would-

It was too horrible to think about.

"I- I would never," Batimes finally finds his voice. "Hels, I would never."

"Oh..." Hels mumbles. "T-thank you."

"You're not the only one with powers," Badtimes murmurs.

"Wh-what?" Hels sounds so confused, so disbelieving.

"I have powers too," Badtimes tells him. "Please come with me... I can explain this all to you."

"Where are we going?" Hels asks, but he doesn't hesitate to stand with the other.

"You'll see," Badtimes teases. "But I promise that it'll be better than here."

Hels takes his hand, his hand small in Badtimes's.

"Hels, I promise it'll get better from here."

Hels swallowed back the knot of sudden emotions and focused on the problem in front of him.

Wels.

Why, why does he have to be here? Hels thought sourly. Why, just why?

"Welcome to Hermitcraft," Wels's voice is forced, and he's addressing the entire group. "I-"

"Wels, I'd like to talk to you alone," Hels practically spat. I can't take this tension any longer- we need to get this out of the way.

Wels met his eyes again.

"Gladly,"

Xay watched as the two left the room.

He's worried, to say the least.

"Does anyone know what that was about?" Beef finally breaks the silence.

"I don't," Iskall mumbled. "Hels... didn't he say the other guy's name was 'Wels'?"

"Yes," Etho replied. "That was Wels."

"I doubt the matching names are a coincidence," Tango muttered, everyone murmuring their agreement.

"They also look kind of similar," Impulse remarked. "Other than the skin and eye color- Wels's skin is a bit paler- they look related. I bet they're brothers."

They do look similar, but Hels is prettier, Xay mused, then wanted to smack himself for the end of the thought. I swear- something's gotten into me.

"I'm going to say something very unlike me," Etho started. "But maybe meddling in their lives isn't the best of ideas."

"Etho, are you feeling okay?" Beef taunted, pressing a hand to Etho's forehead. Etho blushed and swatted his hand away.

Oh god they're so in love-

"But I agree with you," Xisuma piped up. "Let's change the subject, shall we?"

"I'll take you all to see the rest of the Hermits," Beef offered. "And we can set you up and get building!"

"Though first we should sleep," Etho remarked.

It's been a heck of a day-

I think all the problems can wait until morning.

When Xay closed his eyes, everything washed over with that refreshing, familiar darkness.

And in the darkness, a pair of red-orange eyes lingered before disintegrating into slumber.

Silence.

Neither brother knew what to say.

Until, finally,

"I'm sorry," Wels whispered.

"'Sorry'," Hels echoed, anger in his voice. "Yes, that makes up for everything."

"I-" Wels tried again.

"I don't think you realize," Hels growled. "How much your little jokes ruined me. I still have the physical scars, let alone the real ones. I don't even think I can call them jokes."

"Hels, I truly am sorry," Wels mumbled.

"I still have the scars!" Hels shouted. "Why do you think I wear gloves?!"

Wels hesitated, took a deep breath, then stepped forward and hugged him.

Hels froze, then against his better judgement, melted.

"Let me make it up to you," Wels murmured. "Please, Hels."

I want to be mad.

I want to yell at him, to scream, to make it hurt just as much as it did for me.

But...

I don't think I can.

Badtimes always said that "Mercy is more important than vengeance. Vengeance will earn you enemies. Mercy will earn you allies."

He's right, and I know it.

...I never quite realized how hard it is to truly let go.

"Okay,"

Wels pulled back at Hels's words, blinking in astonishment.

"I guess I can give you another chance," Hels smiled. "Just this once."

"I'll take it,"

Blue meets red once again.

They both smile.

AWWWWWWWWWWWW

-Storm