#its grocery day but in the afternoon as had to wait for a parcel ew

[factorialsotherfandoms]

Surprise alt PoV on Saturday's fic...? Magic exhaustion is totally exhaustion and I wrote basic type back on the fainting day so like. Enjoy some weird shit instead.

XCOM AU, again, with people having extremely bad times. Referenced torture, everything's a bit on the magic end of things for me to be sure how to warn it. Oh right! Implied Major Character Death (they learn this isn't actually the case before the end of the story, but do believe it for long enough to have genuine grief hours about it). Actual major character injury. Psychic torture. Poorly explained magic and soulmate system.

Mostly Forever, Cellbit, and Pac, with background Fit/Pac and not-on-screen-but-vital-to-story Pac & Mike

The meeting has been over for a good twenty minutes now. Most of the Order have dispersed back to their days, but a few still hang around the command centre. Forever is nominally in charge of navigation, but auto-pilot is engaged and they don't have anywhere specific to go. It's the sort of day where one person can manage both navigation and comms, though Cellbit has pulled up a chair and an old book of puzzles to keep himself occupied as he pretends to handle the later.

Not that puzzles are being done, at the moment; currently they're both over by the holographic map system, lazily watching the flightpath while chatting with Pac. Ever since Mike was kidnapped two - maybe three - months ago, he's been out of sorts. Of course he has - Forever doesn't understand what a soul-bond means, not innately, but to have someone trusted with your head pulled away? In danger with nothing you can do, with every lead going nowhere? Pac's honestly dealing weirdly well.

Forever knows he and Cellbit dealt /much/ worse when Felps was stolen from them.

"Any plans tonight?" he asks, when the conversation Cellbit and Pac were having slows to a halt.

"Roier wanted to show me something," Cellbit's face goes soft for a moment at the mention. "Who knows how it'll go?"

"Not really," Pac blinks a little harder than normal. "Maybe the bar? Is there anything else to do?"

"Steal the lab back for an evening?" Cellbit suggests.

"Dating!" is Forever's reply.

Pac laughs at the first, and goes red at the second.

"Ohhhh," Forever laughs, suddenly realising. "Is Fit going to be at the bar, by any chance?"

"I- Ah- Maybe!" Pac's hands swish about the air with just quite how flustered he is by the mere suggestion. "What about you? Aren't you up to anything?"

"Me?" Forever replies, teasing. "Well now you ask... No, not much. Pierre had some new reports I should probably start working through."

"The elerium reports?" Cellbit's eyes light up. "He's finished? Did he have much to say about it?"

"His report's short, Tubbo's though..." Forever laughs.

"Tubbo's right, though," Pac looks over to a point between Forever and Cellbit, thinking hard. "If we can fully harness it... Ship power isn't going to be a problem again. We might even be able to use it to channel... No, I don't think it'll work for grenades. We don't have enough anyway. But if we can find a way to safely embed it... You might... Maybe... You should make Tubbo talk to Pierre. I'm not up to date on all our schematics, and I'm not Mike, but... With the right wiring it should make energy weapons viable? And! The alloys he was looking at for the new armour? If I'm right about it-"

At some point during the ramble, Forever had looked away; one of the engineers was flagging him down for permission to start maintenance on the steering system. He is in the middle of giving them the thumbs up when Pac's ramble cuts off.

Forever abandons the engineer, head snapping back around to check on him.

Pac often trails off.

But Pac does /not/ cut off at the peak of excitement in a ramble. Not unless it's followed by an apology. Never to nothing, never to dead silence.

Forever's correct; Pac has frozen up, his eyes overtaken by a haze of glowing blue.

Fuck, psionics; Forever looks to Cellbit, who shakes his head - not anything he can detect, and so not anything from an attack.

Just in case he still sees Cellbit extend a nullification field over Pac - and Forever as well. No change.

Pac's fingers, previously loose on the guard rail as he leant against it, are white with the tension in his grip.

"Pac...?" Forever glances back and forth between Cellbit and Pac as he speaks. "Everything okay?"

Pac blinks.

Usually it would erase the glow.

This time... The colour shifts.

Right eye remains blue.

Left eye shifts to green.

"... Mike?"

If it /is/ Mike, some sort of long distance contact from his cell that Cellbit and Pac had both called too dangerous to attempt over the distance...

Forever tries to remind himself it means something is terribly wrong - Mike would have tried this earlier if he thought that he could - but all that happens is that his heart soars.

A lead, a lead, for the first time in months they have a better lead than 'somewhere in Australia, South-East Asia, the Pacific, or South America'. He's no idea how good a lead, but it is one.

"Mike!" Cellbit's call for their missing friend is sharper. "Pac? What's happening? Where are you?"

Pac - Mike - neither of them respond. Pac doesn't even blink, his body rigid against the guard rail.

Cellbit reaches an arm behind him, making sure he doesn't fall back over it if at any point he goes limp. The action... The action forces Forever's brain into accepting just how serious this probably is.

And no matter what, once this is over Pac is going to be a wreck. He's coping... badly, but so much better than any of them thought he would, the bad limited to reckless disregard for his own safety, not anything else. After this, though, after having Mike in his brain only to have to leave...

If he and Cellbit aren't enough to help - and they won't be - there's two other people Forever can think that Pac might want. He grabs his communicator, sending messages summoning Fit and Felps.

Fit is on the training range, and Felps is probably asleep, but at least they'll come as soon as they're free.

Forever and Cellbit... They can work with that.

He leaves Cellbit to do whatever psionic things he's trying - soul-bonds aren't like Cellbit's academic psionics, but it comes from the same root source, they think - and does what he can.

The engineer has taken his distraction for permission, and is doing her job. Forever... This isn't his, but all the crew are his responsibility - and especially the Brazilians.

He takes one of Pac's hands, peeling it from the guard rail and interlacing the fingers with his own.

Nails dig deep into his hand as Pac, still blank eyed and otherwise unresponsive, clings back.

It stays like that for a few minutes - even on their ship they refuse to leave Pac alone and vulnerable. Just... Forever holding his hand, Cellbit protecting his back, and Pac's face completely blank in a way Pac's never is.

Forever can read the tension in his body, though, the way the shaking grows with every breath.

He does his best to reassure them, whatever combination of Tazercraft can or cannot hear him, all the while shooing anyone looking into walking past. Fit and Felps still haven't replied, but it's okay, it's okay, he and Cellbit can at least keep Pac curled up sobbing somewhere safe until other help arrives. Forever wants to fix it, wants to take the tension from Pac's spine and bring him Mike - the only real way to soothe the gash in his soul - wants to just keep those he cares about safe.

But, no, all Forever can do is hold Pac's hand as the minutes tick away.

Tick, tick, tick away...

One minute

Two minutes

Three.

Four minutes pass, five...

The green disappears from Pac's eyes.

He screams.

The blue is still there, lashing out from his eyes. Forever drops his hand to try to pull Pac against him; Cellbit shifts like he's about to try and do the same.

Before they can touch him, it stops. It all stops. Pac crumples to the floor, deathly silent, terrifyingly still - a limp, dead weight. Forever catches him against his shoulder, easing him to the floor, unable to think, unable to breathe. Cellbit takes over, calling Pac's name, checking his breathing, lowering him onto his side.

Forever drops to his knees, and lets the jolt of pain break the trance. He grabs his comm back up, not even looking as he flicks the button to summon someone from medical.

"Is that...?" he looks to Cellbit, and Cellbit looks back.

And, fuck, Cellbit is just as helpless as him.

"No idea," their best expert on psionics says, and they're fucked; Forever knew that, but can't blame a man for hoping. "Bonds aren't... I don't do bonds. Pac would be the one to ask."

And Pac is the one lying on the floor.

It's another couple of seconds before Pac's eyes blink open. As soon as he sees, Forever leans down, brushing a hand along his cheek.

"Pac?" he asks. "Pac, are you okay?"

Pac's eyes do find him, and do focus properly. It's a relief, even as the tears start flowing.

Forever... Forever doesn't know what could possibly cause such a violent reaction, but his heart shatters at the possibilities. He doesn't want to think, doesn't want to think-

"Mike," Pac whispers between the sobs. "Mike..."

Too late, too late, they're too fucking late.

Forever can see his own hands shake as he brushes them across Pac's skin. He needs to pace, to scream, to think, to plan, to- to- there is /no/ making this right, but he /has/ to, he has to, he has to, Mike can't- He can't be-

Forever cannot even think the word.

Cellbit is also quiet.

Cellbit's hands are also trembling.

Cellbit must have concluded the same.

Forever wonders why the fuck Cellbit has not taken back his position, when Forever sits here trembling and Cellbit manages to at least flag the medics down.

They nudge him to one side, two helping Pac while the third orders him and Cellbit to sit, orders someone else to get warm drinks, and generally takes control of the support staff. Someone - Forever thinks it might be Jaiden, but he can't quite see more than a purple blur, so it could be Vegetta - has taken over navigation and comms. One of those warm drinks is placed in his hands, and another in Cellbit's. Pac is able to - with a bit of help - sit by the time he's helped onto a stretcher. It's a relief, it's a relief, if the only one Forever has - and, fuck, how does he face Pac again, when he didn't have the information.

Fit appears at some point. One of Tubbo's people - Tubbo's people, who used to be Pac and Mike's people, fuck - directs him.

Fit's face is pale, when he sprints off.

Felps joins them even later. He doesn't say anything as he worms his way between Forever and Cellbit, pulling them both into a hug.

Bagi's away from the Avenger, doing work with Tina and one of the rebel cells. They're necessarily out of contact; they have time to work out how to tell her. Everyone else... Fit will work it out, once he sees Pac - if he hasn't already. Otherwise... Maybe he can fob the announcement off on Wilbur, but it doesn't seem right, doesn't seem... He's the commander of this operation, it's /supposed/ to be his job.

But he can't, he can't - right now all he can think of is pink hair and sharp laughter and a sharper mind, bright eyes behind taped together glasses.

They... They still don't know where he is. They'll never even be able to retrieve a body; the thrice-damned Federation will have melted it down for parts before they get there.

Just like they did to all those civilians...

That's what breaks him, in the end. Forever curls over Felps shoulder, and sobs into his neck.

Mike, Mike, Mike...

He's lost everyone before - lost Mike before, not once, but twice.

It still hurts, it still hurts, maybe it even hurts worse than before.

Really, he should have known miracles don't come in threes.

---

At some point, Felps steers them all into the privacy of Forever's... office-slash-bedroom. There's definitely a desk and computer there, but also some old beaten up couches, a thousand filing cabinets, and an old army bed shoved in a corner.

There's also a coffee machine on a table between two of the cabinets, and Forever doesn't have the strength to stop Cellbit from abusing it today.

He's trying to plan, trying to think - but what can he do? They know where the /Hunter/ is, they could get revenge, but there's still the Warlock, and even taking out those three doesn't promise safety. His instincts say pull everyone back, cocoon up, drag everyone else to safety and let nothing touch them ever again - especially now there's /children/ on the ship too.

But they don't have that choice. They have too many friends, too many allies, too many people to save and too few of them would ever leave the world to burn.

Fit's not come to find them, so at least Pac isn't alone. He should go, he should maybe try comfort Pac, but what can he say? Sorry my contacts weren't good enough to find your soulmate before he was murdered? Fuck, he can't do that.

But then again...

Felps is telling a story, trying to keep their minds off things they cannot change. Cellbit doesn't seem to be listening, and Forever certainly isn't, but there's some things he just cannot change.

They did get Felps back.

... They did, right?

Forever reaches out, grabbing his wrist. His fingers find his pulse, and he forces himself to breathe. Felps was dead - everyone was convinced Felps was dead - but he wasn't actually. He wasn't harvested and liquidised, his brain was used as a CPU for a supercomputer instead. Horrific, horrifying,with mental and physical scars to this day, but they got Felps back.

Maybe...

Pac would know if Mike was still alive, even like that; if the soulbond is still there, it's there. If it's not...

Though...

Oh.

Forever pulls Felps with him as he marches to one of the cabinets. Which mission, which mission, which mission...

There. Operation Wailing Feast. No losses of their own, minimal civilian causalities too, but it was more by sheer, dumb luck than anything else. Philza had been in command, but Roier had written the initial report, the paperwork slightly smeared in blood, because Mike had been a sobbing mess, and the rest of the squad were recovering from major surgery.

It was before there was a proper medical facility on the ship, too; Aypierre's lab was thoroughly cleaned first, sure, but between needing to do surgery in an autopsy lab, and the only place for them to go after being the beds at the side of the common room, it's a wonder all of them made it.

They had - all of them had recovered - but it had never been a sure thing.

Another failure on Forever's part - he should have realised they'd need a medical ward sooner, should have made it the highest priority. But the cash just wasn't coming, and the parts, and...

And, there is one, now. He fixed that error.

Guilt is not what he came here for, it's just too easy to feel.

He refocuses and ignores Roier's report. Instead he looks for the other page, written by Philza several weeks later, once the man's hands were capable of writing again.

Skims it over, skims it over and breathes.

The report is short, as Philza's tend to be, and Roier had already covered most of the details. It, however, concerns the circumstances of Pac's injuries that day - caught in multiple explosions in quick succession, burns, shrapnel wounds, knocked out by the concussive force...

There's a note there, too, of how Mike had panicked. Panicked and started blind firing at anything that came close. He'd believed Pac dead, at first, needing coaxing to reach back along the bond and find him. Only then did he calm down long enough to allow Philza's Crow to approach, and stabalise Pac's wounds.

He clutches the paper, and names it hope - it says nothing good, it says so many terrible thing, but- but the soul bond /is/ fallible. In heightened emotional states, if someone is injured enough, it's possible to miss.

Even if they read Pac correctly - and now he thinks Pac never said Mike was gone, just the green vanished from the connection and Pac had called for him while sobbing - even if Pac can't feel Mike... It doesn't mean Mike's dead.

It's Forever's turn to drop to his knees in relief. He hates that it's relief - for Pac to have that reaction, for the soul bond to be missed, Mike must be horrifically wounded and is still held captive by an enemy that liquidises humans in a very literal way, for nobody knows what purpose - but it is. Because... Because he might not be too late. Mike might be /alive/.

He sobs, but they're not sad tears this time.

He hands the paper to Felps.

Felps, whose eyes also light up, and hands it to Cellbit.

Cellbit, who still downs the coffee but slams the mug into the table and says "do you think Pac has any idea where to look now?" already working on a new plan.

It's a good question. Pac was too out of it earlier, but maybe...

Forever's comm pings, and the timing is immaculate; it's Fit, saying Pac's properly awake and wants to speak to them.

It's followed by another message saying at least Fit thinks that's right, but Pac's struggling with English more than usual and his Portuguese isn't great.

"I'll go talk to him," Forever breathes out. "Do you-?"

"You two go," Felps takes the paper back from Cellbit, and puts everything back away. "I'll start asking around. Maybe Fred's people have something?"

They checked in yesterday and had nothing then, but the name of the game is hope, and contacting Fred's faction is always more complicated than the others. Maybe they'll have information from Pac once they manage to get a meeting.

---

Medical is the same as ever, if surprisingly quiet. It's been a while since their last full operation - Forever is certain that everything will go to hell soon, it always does - and nobody's managed to get shot on more covert activities of late. Pac's the only patient, curled up on a bed towards the back with Fit at his side and a nearby doctor keeping half an eye on him while she cleans.

"Pac!" Forever sweeps to his other side, taking one of his free hands. "Are you alright? You didn't hit your head or anything?"

Pac squeezes his hand, and offers a shaky, scared smile, "I'm good, I- Um... Fit?"

He glances at Fit, who tilts his head. After a second, the bomber works it out.

"Doc says he's just exhausted himself," Fit squeezes the hand of Pac's he's holding. "They're more trained on physical shit, but something about overtaxing himself psionically...?"

Cellbit's expression goes dark for a second. He storms over to Pac's side, pressing to fingers to the side of his head. Their eyes meet and Cellbit's eyes take on a slight red glow as he presses harder onto Pac's skin.

While Cellbit works Fit squeezes Pac's hand, and stands.

"I'll give you guys some privacy, let Tubbo know what's going on," he says.

Pac reaches for a hug; Fit gives it with only a little hesitation, whispering something in his ear before heading out. He gives Forever a wave, and it's returned, and then it's just a case of waiting for Cellbit to be satisfied.

Eventually, Cellbit pulls the fingers away, frowning as he does. "What happened, Pac? You're lucky - that's low enough to- fuck, Pac, you'll hurt yourself like this."

Pac doesn't even laugh nervously, his eyes just flicker to his hands.

"Mike reached for me," Pac says, clearly still badly drained. "I knew... I knew it would be bad, if he was reaching that far. We know it's too far to do safely..."

He trails off, and Forever tries to be gentle in his questioning.

"Is Mike okay?" he asks, because until he has that answer he doesn't know if he can breathe.

"Alive," Pac says, and both of the other Brazilians in the room relax; Cellbit starts texting Felps and maybe Roier as soon as that word is said. "He... He's hurt, though. Badly. I'm not sure what happened - physically - it was... We were entwined, we were trying to stay together, then suddenly he pulled back. Seconds later he grew very faint. He's not... Not gotten worse since, but..."

But it doesn't mean anything good, if the building tears mean anything.

"What happened?" Cellbit is the one to ask. "Mike isn't stupid, he wouldn't have risked it unless..."

"Cucurucho," Pac says, and the room goes dead silent.

Even the doctor freezes for a moment, before beginning to scrub even harder than before.

"Interrogation?" Cellbit asks, the only person they know to have been interrogated by one of the Federation's spokesmen.

Well, interrogated and have survived.

And he only lived, they think, because the cursed bear thought it was funnier that way.

Pac nods, shaking, "he... I don't know exactly? He threw /himself/ at me, I caught him and threw up a shield. I think... I think I covered everything important, but- but... not everything. There wasn't time. And the claws..." a particularly violent shudder. "I felt a little of the rest, as he pulled away. It's... Cucurucho must have read it, but it's all... fragmented? I... I don't-"

"You saved him," Cellbit cuts Pac off without a moment's hesitation. "Pac, listen to me? No matter what Cucurucho did or didn't take, Mike is alive because of /you/. Whatever happened? We can fix it. So long as he's alive when we get to him, we can fix it."

"I don't-" tears bubble out of Pac's eyes, and onto his cheeks. "He's so weak. He's there, he's still there, but..."

Forever shifts over to the bed, offering Pac a hug. It's quickly taken up, Pac folding against him.

"We'll find him," Forever promises, because if he's alive then they /can/. "Any information might help, but no matter what, we'll find him."

He's been saying that for months, now; he continues convincing himself it's true.

Pac shakes his head at first. Forever knows his friend - he gives it a second even as Cellbit's feet tap-tap on the floor.

The second pays off; Pac raises a hand, and points out in a direction, "he's that way. Not sure how far, but... Not this continent."

Forever sees Cellbit grab a compass - why he's carrying one he has no idea - setting it up and scribbling the direction on his hand.

It's something, it's so much more than they had.

"Thank you," Forever whispers to him. Holds him tight, doesn't know if Pac will ever understand how much he means to them - with Mike, yes, but even without him - and how wonderful he is. "Thank you, Pac. Rest, you did well; thank you, thank you so much."

There's no more promises that it'll be okay - they can't promise that, not here, not now, not like this. But it might be, it might be, it's possible.

The thread is fraying but it's not yet been cut; there's still a chance to pull it back in and weave in new strands.

All they can do is try.