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It starts, stupidly enough, with his demotion. When 3BelowZero delivers the news, all Flux can do is nod solemnly. He accepted long ago that his…outburst (which some people are calling it that, rude) at the meeting would make its way back to him. The news of his demotion isn’t much of a shocker to anyone, but 3BelowZero does seem a bit remorseful when telling him which Flux inwardly scoffs at as he leaves Luminara.
Too soft. Too nice to be a leader. He should’ve kicked Flux out with more finality and less compassion, Flux thinks, as he and the rest of the Conspiracy finish building their underground bunker. Whatever. It’s not like their plan needed him to be Vice President anyway, and now that he’s not being as monitored, they can do what they have to. The rest of the Conspiracy are still on the board or Luminara citizens so they’ll have connections regardless.
Still, being taken down a peg is annoying. So when Saps messages him about helping him out with building his home when they finish the bunker, Flux doesn’t hesitate to send a reply and yells at everyone to head over.
Saps is happy to see him, running over as soon as they arrive. His arms and face peek out from underneath layers of white cloth, the ends of his toga muddied with sand. He practically attaches himself to Flux’s hip, chattering about how it’s too bad about his demotion and he’ll come around eventually about 3Below as they gather supplies.
The second thing that happens that afternoon is that Jophiel dies. That comes as a surprise to everyone in the server, but especially Flux, who was under the impression Seraphim was not going to do that.
Saps is shaken though. When Flux tells him to call for an emergency meeting, it takes him several seconds before he actually moves. Once he leaves for Tricolor, they get to work on their trap.
It’s scuffed, Gotoga laying out the blueprints and everyone trying their best to replicate it. Flux is half building and half messaging Seraphim the whole time, briefing them on the situation. New plan, considering how fast they moved. Seraphim, luckily, is onboard immediately and messages that she’s en route to the bunker for safety.
“Flux. Flux!”
“What?” Flux says, sending off a reply to Seraphim. He jams his communicator back into his pocket.
“Dude, check your messages,” Thomas says. Before Flux can argue he was literally just doing that, he raises his communicator. “Saps is spamming us. They need more hands at Tricolor.”
“Oh.”
Flux whips it back out before Thomas can speak.
<saparata> where r uu
<saparata> could rlly use ur help rn
<saparata> its crazy out here here
<Fluixon> I’m coming.
They help out with Tricolor, or at the very least, what’s left of it. The whole nation is in chaos, and by the time they get back to Saps’ home, the sun is beginning to sun over the horizon. The rest of the Conspiracy practically pass out on the steps leading up to Saps’ house, and it’s only once they reach the top that Flux stretches, whole back covered in sweat and exhaustion creeping in on his bones.
“We’re gonna head out now,” Flux yawns. Saps nods and bends down to reach something. “See you–”
A thud. Something hits the floor. Flux whirls around, the air where Saps was standing suddenly empty. He looks down.
Saps is laying down on the ground. His chest rises and falls.
One.
Two.
Three.
“Saps?” Flux says to the air. Then, stupidly, “Saps! Saps! Hey–guys! Help!”
Snowbird and Thomas come running up the stairs. Snowbird is the first to act, dropping to his knees beside Flux (huh, since when did he get there–) and motioning for Flux to move aside. Snowbird presses a hand to Saps’ forehead. He has to lift the veil covering his face and hands it over to Flux, who stares at the piece of white cloth in his hands.
“He’s burning up!” Snowbird shouts.
“I’ve got water,” Gotoga says, coming up the stairs with Hvyrotation in tow. Flux can barely see Saps’ unconscious frame now, a blur of colors huddled around him.
“We gotta move him,” Thomas says, and next thing Flux knows they’re moving, Thomas hoisting Saps up and wedging his shoulder under one of his arms to take the brunt of the weight.
“I got it.” Snowbird takes the other side, helping Saps walk.
“Flux, where’s his tent?”
“Over there.” Flux points.
Flux lets them leave, hand still clutching onto Saps’ cloth. Saps’ toga drags across the sandstone. His head lolls to the side, hood down, mouth moving but not audible.
Well.
Fuck.
Hvyrotation comes out of the tent thirty minutes later. Thomas and Gotoga are reviewing blueprint plans on a makeshift bench, Snowbird napping beside them. Flux rests on a log staring at the campfire and glances up from his communicator messages with NewKids when Hvyrotation takes a seat next to him.
“How is he?”
Hvyrotation sighs. “He’s sick.”
Visions flash through his head of Saps throughout the day. Smiling when he saw Flux that afternoon. What he could see of his face was red back then, and sweat from working in the sun the whole day. How he shook next to Flux when they heard the news, fumbling his communicator. How in charge he had been at Tricolor, shouting orders and managing the chaos until his voice had gone hoarse.
And then—finally—how he’d collapsed right next to Flux.
“Not heatstroke?” Flux asks. That seems like the most probable answer he thought of while they were inside. “Heat exhaustion?” Or just exhaustion in general.
“No.” Hvyrotation makes a face. “I think he’s got like a fever or something.”
“A fever.” A fever? There’s no way that’s what he fucking has. Flux stares at him in disbelief. “Is it that bad?”
Hvyrotation shrugs. “See for yourself.”
He glances down at Saps’ cover for his face Flux still has. Flux closes his hands around the cloth and gets up, heading into the tent.
The tent is small, barely enough for one other person. A large mound of white cloth lays on a cot, a dim lantern sitting on top of a table beside it. There’s a bowl of water, a stack of spare cloth next to it.
“Saps?”
The white mass of cloth shifts. A groan.
“…Flux?” Saps calls out weakly.
Flux drags a chair over to his side. Saps manages to untangle himself from the blanket they threw onto him. His eyes blearily open, squinting at him.
“Hey,” Flux says softly, as if not to startle a small animal. He puts a hand over Saps’ forehead.
Completely on fire. Holy fuck.
“My head hurts,” Saps complains. Flux jerks his hand back immediately and reaches for the bedside cloth.
“Sorry—“
“Nooo, wait.” Saps’ fingers curl around his wrist and move his hand back to his head. “Your hands are cold.”
Flux took his gloves off before entering. He places the cover for Saps’ face on the table next to the other washcloths while he keeps his hand where Saps wants it. “My hands are literally sweaty.”
“Ugh. Nevermind. Get off me.” Saps pushes him away in disgust, evident even with his fever-addled brain.
“You wanted it.”
“No, that was you.”
“What—“ Whatever. He’s not going to argue with a sick person. Preying on the weak, even if it is easy. “Just leave this on.” He dips the cloth into water and strains it before carefully placing it onto Saps’ forehead.
“Yippee. Thank you,” he slurs out.
“It’s nothing. How are you feeling?” Flux asks, and immediately cringes.
“Like shit.” Obviously. It was a stupid question. Saps moves his head up as Flux puts another wet rag on the back of his neck. “I don’t have time for this.”
Flux’s hand twitches. He almost reaches for his communicator by reflex. “What do you mean?”
Saps gestures vaguely to himself. “The meeting,” he croaks out.
“It can wait.”
“No, it can’t. What if something else happens?”
“That won’t happen, Saps.” If Saps were more alert, he might’ve been able to sense the dishonesty there and Flux stamps it down. He’s not lying that this new circumstance of Saps being sick throws a whole wrench into his plans that he’s spent the entire evening juggling how to handle. This is not the plan. Saps is sick, and too sick to handle that meeting tomorrow. Flux’s mind has come up with dozens of scenarios, and none of them involve Saps leading anymore. “That won’t.”
“You don’t know that,” Saps sobs. Actually sobs. It’s more muffled if anything, but Flux turns and tears stream down Saps’ face silently. “Jophiel’s dead. I don’t know where Seraphim is anymore. God, it’s all wrong. And I have to lead this emergency meeting, Flux—“
“You don’t have to—“
“I have to.” The guilt gnaws in, but also hope because that was their plan all along. He was right to choose Saps, it’s just these annoying variables coming into play. “I have to send—“
“You don’t. I can take care of it.”
“You can?”
Flux scoffs. He already did take care of it, but he doesn’t have to know. “Of course. Who do you think I am?”
“A damn good vice president.” Saps chuckles. A second passes, and the guilt immediately floods his face. “Wait, I’m sorry—“
“I know what you mean.”
“Okay.” He sniffles. “It’s all my fault, Flux,” Saps mumbles. “It’s all my fault.”
“How on Earth is it your fault?”
“I should’ve warned her,” Saps slurs. He’s bordering on delirium. Flux replaces the wet cloth on his head. “I should’ve known something would happen to her. I could’ve told her to run.”
“You had no way of knowing that.”
“I should’ve,” Saps still says. “That’s why I didn’t wanna get involved. Now I can’t even do anything.”
“What you need to do,” Flux cuts in, “is rest.”
He’s been working nonstop on making his home and meeting island so he can help mediate the meetings. Meetings he didn’t even want to do in the first place but before Flux, it was Jophiel who proposed he do so. Now Flux has a front row seat to the guilt and sickness eating him alive.
Saps is too exhausted to protest. Plus his head is the equivalent of a furnace. The side of Flux’s brain that isn’t plotting their schemes curses because the only reason they’re in this fucking scenario is because this man is stupid and only wears a toga.
“Nooo—“
“Yes—“
“There’s going to be a war,” he murmurs. Flux bites down his tongue. “There’s gonna be a war and it’s cause I caused it—“
“Saps.” Saps still makes a noise of protest. “Saps. Please.”
Flux does not beg. He would never, in a million years, say shit like this.
Saps shuts up real quick.
Flux exhales. “We’ll be outside,” he says gently. He fixes the cloth on Saps’ head one last time, taking a look at him. “Rest up.”
Upon exiting, everyone surrounds the makeshift bench. Snowbird is now awake, rubbing at his eyes, and Hvyrotation hovers over the blueprints with Gotoga.
“We could kill him now—“ Thomas says, then cuts himself off once he sees Flux is back.
“No,” Gotoga chides. “That’s not the point. We have to use him. If we kill him off now, we lose our scapegoat. So we should—“
The rest of his words die in his throat as soon as Flux stands right in front of him, going to pick up one of the blueprints. It’s the same plan of the trap they built today, with some modifications.
“No, go on,” Flux says, as soon as everyone goes silent. Nice to know his presence is appreciated at least. “What else were you going to say?”
“Uh…”
“It’s about Saps,” Thomas interrupts. As expected of his second-in-command. “What are we going to do about him? The meeting is tomorrow.”
“I know.” Flux sighs. He runs a hand through his hair. “We won’t get another opportunity like this for a while.”
“So then what? We pick someone else?”
“No. There’s not enough time.”
The ground sways under his feet like his world is off-kilter. Thomas stares at him in disbelief, and Flux swallows. Of course, from all the people here, he’d be the one to understand what Flux has admitted without saying anything.
“You’re still choosing him,” Thomas finally says after what feels like forever. “You still want to use him?”
“Yes.”
“You’re sure.” He says it more like a statement, staring him down. Everyone else looks at him, mirroring Thomas’ expression.
“Yes.” Flux straightens. He spent days arguing at world meetings without letting anyone talk him down, and here, he summons that energy for his team. “It has to be him.”
He'd feel terrible if it were anyone else. Someone he barely knew, he couldn't dare leave them with that fate. But Saps?
Saps would understand. He would. He would see the bigger picture. And it wouldn't even matter if he did or didn't because he would play his part and play it well to the end.
Thomas sighs in a well, what can you do way and crosses his arms over his chest. “Okay, fine. New plan then. Scrap the dripstone traps for now. Every single nation is on lockdown, so let’s head back to Luminara. Once it dies down, we can regroup and see if they try to gather everyone together again.”
“So this emergency meeting isn’t going to happen anymore?” Hvyrotation asks.
“I already called it off,” Flux says. Everyone stares at him in shock. Flux tries to not look too miffed. “They might still have one, but once Saps is better, he can call another meeting. We’ll be a day or two behind schedule for when that barrier goes down though.”
“No, this works out fine,” Gotoga chimes in. “I have more time to work on the traps. I can actually test them now.”
“Perfect.” Thomas pulls out his communicator. “Let’s all get some rest then. Flux can stay with Saps for the night. NewKids is still out doing recon and Seraphim’s on the way.”
Everyone nods and slowly starts heading out. Flux can’t even be annoyed that Thomas inadvertently signed him up for Saps duty (he would’ve taken it anyway, but ugh) and begins cleaning the area up before resting back against the log.
The bushes rustle and Flux reaches for his sword. A hooded figure steps out, looking directly at him.
“Hello,” Seraphim says. She lowers her hood, red and blue irises shining in the dim light of their campfire. “Gotoga wants me to try the trap tonight. I just figured I’d stop and say hi.”
“Hey,” Flux says, shoulders sagging in relief. “Good to see you.”
She looks completely spent. Burn marks tatter the edges of her cloak, dirt and grime caking her boots. An empty iron bucket remains attached to her waist. “Thanks for all the updates too. He’s really sick?”
Flux looks in the direction of the tent. Saps is probably fast asleep, not a single sound coming from it since he left. “Yeah.”
“Horrible timing.”
“No kidding. He’s…” Flux tries to find the words. “...not doing too good. We’ll be set back a day.”
“Oh.” Seraphim sighs. She brushes dirt off herself and starts heading toward the tent.
Flux is up before he can even think about it, standing in front of her and Saps. His sword hangs on his hip, his fingers twitching to have it in his grasp. “What are you doing?” He asks. Challenges, more like.
The flames flicker behind her as Seraphim tilts her head to the side. If she heard the edge in his voice, it doesn’t show. “He’s asleep, right? I wanted to take a look at how he’s doing.”
“Why? You gonna kill him too?”
It’s a low blow. A hell of a low blow and Flux almost winces as soon as he lets it out. He’s the one being sloppy in the first place, allowing Seraphim to even be here. He should’ve told her to get back to the bunker—they can test the trap any other time. Saps could be awake for all he knows, listening in on their conversation. Their whole plan could be in even more jeopardy than it already is.
Seraphim, however, is unphased. She simply laughs and shakes her head. “Nah, I’m just kidding. I know. Too much of a risk. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
With that, she gives a half-hearted salute and wave as she heads back into the woods, leaving Flux with Saps in peace.
Flux heads inside the tent as soon as she’s gone. The light in the lantern has dimmed, but it’s enough to illuminate Saps’s sleeping figure.
He looks exactly as Flux left him, eyes closed and drifting off. For a moment, Flux’s stomach drops as he could be faking it, having heard their whole plan. Before he can spiral however, he spots the damp rag still on Saps’ forehead and back of his neck, slowly slipping off.
Flux takes them both off and sets them aside. Saps stirs a bit, mumbling something he can’t make out. He looks peaceful like this, the picture perfect look of youth and innocence.
“Saps,” he calls out. One final test. “Saps.”
Nothing. Flux brushes Saps’ bangs back. Saps stirs, leaning right into his touch. He turns over in his sleep, facing Flux.
His arms lay flat against the cot. His chest rises and falls, and Flux stares for a few moments as he listens to his breathing.
The chances of Saps being better tomorrow are low. Hell, the day after that is also low. In some strange twisted way, it’s reassuring. He won’t be walking to his death as soon as Flux thought he would be.
But he will soon. And just because he’s put the day off for later doesn’t mean it’ll hurt any less.
For now, though, he lets himself be greedy. Flux holds Saps’ hand, paying careful attention so he doesn’t wake.
Tomorrow, he’ll take care of him. Saps will wake up, act confused as he always does, before laughing with ease alongside Flux. Blissfully unaware of what Flux has in store for him. Oblivious to the fate that awaits him.
Flux holds his hand a little tighter, squeezing it as an apology—a plea.