#and the jerky flow know dw i’ll fix it

[merriclo]

i need to post more hcau wips so here a wip of spirit fucking dying, vio having horrible bedside manner, hero trying his best, and traveler of all people being the smart one lmao

content warning: lots of injury descriptions, almost major character death, vulgar language, small descriptions of how terrible potions taste, and also they’re in a sewer

There’s blood seeping out of Spirit’s leg, and it’s the first time in a while that Vio doesn’t know what to do. Obviously, the wound needs to cleaned, sewn shut, and dressed, but the cut is so long and ragged and deep that she might be dead by the time a quarter of the stitches are in. And even if she does somehow make it past the blood loss, the likelihood of her dying of an infection from getting stitches in the middle of a sewer system is too high to even think about.

“Holy fuck, holy fuck,” Traveler says in a panic, sprinting past Vio to Spirit’s side. He helps her to the grimy ground, even rips off his cloak to set under her leg as a sort of towel. After an embarrassing amount of time, Vio finally moves to help prop her against the wall, and Traveler starts to clean the wound.

This is normally where they’d force feed her a potion. On any standard day they’d be desperately shoving it to her lips and tilt her head back. The tension would fall from their shoulders as her bleeding would slowly become more manageable, and death would no longer loom over her. They’d have to restrain her, of course; the kid’s always been particularly sensitive to the potion’s rancid meat flavoring. Vio holds the memory of Ages holding her arms and head back as Blue pries open her jaw to pour the liquid down her throat quite fondly, despite the fact that Spirit was actively dying then, as well.

But they can’t do that. They don’t have the luxury of pulling her out of death’s grasp, not when their last red potion is on the floor, mixing with glass shards and sewage a few yards away. It was shattered by one of the Yiga clan members that had attacked them just moments prior, in the exact same battle that cleaved the poor girl’s thigh open.

Vio wants to scoop the potion’s remnants up in her hands and force it onto Spirit’s tongue; she wants to drag their fingers through the groves in the stone where the liquid gathers, then drag those same fingers into her throat. She’d drag the girl over to the puddle by her fucking hair and force her to drink from it if it meant that she’d survive.

But it wouldn’t. It’s common knowledge that magic is a fickle thing, so fickle in fact that once a red potion is contaminated, it’s loses all potency—and what’s more contaminated than a potion full of glass, dirt, and sewage?

Traveler looks to Vio. They’re visibly exhausted from overextending their magic as they work through this dungeon, and the grim look on his face says that he’s intimately familiar with these kinds of situations and how they often end. The tears that flood Spirit’s terrified eyes tell Vio that she is as well.

Well, at least she’s small. They might be able to give her family a body.

Traveler still cleans the wound. He moves quickly, which means being much harsher than normal. Why he’s acting like she still has a chance Vio doesn’t know, but Spirit handles it shockingly well. She only clenches and unclenches her fists with every fresh wave of pain and… looks up and starts to nod?

“What’re you doing, kid?” Vio asks as gently as possible, taking one hand in their own to offer some kind of emotional support.

Spirit swallows harshly, and when she speaks her voice is ragged and breathy. “Hero… the—“ she winces, “—the ghost.”

Right. Hero, the dead Link that only Spirit can see, and who can sometimes vaguely speak to the rest of them. He would be there too, wouldn’t be?

“What about Hero?” Vio prods.

“He’s—“ she pants, and her grip on Vio’s hands tightens to the point that it feels close to shattering. Vio often forgets how strong the girl is. “He’s.. gonna get some of the others.”

As much as she wants to feel a wash of relief at her words, they only make Vio feel worse. The group split into several smaller groups in order to finish the dungeon quicker—a choice which likely won’t happen again after today. It’s been just over an hour since everyone parted. The chances of a ghost being able to find and effectively lead someone with a health potion to them quickly enough are…

Vio swallows. Her tongue feels thick. “I don’t think you have enough time for that.”

“Oh,” the engineer says. Her bottom lip quivers as she musters up a pathetic smile. “Okay.”

Another tear slips down Spirit’s round face, and Vio realizes at the worst possible time why Blue is so fond of her.

Then, Traveler’s face lights up as their eyes lock onto Vio. “You still have a little bit of a that stamina potion, don’t you?”

“Huh?”

“Stamina— the green one! I know you do, you always leave a little bit of potions left for situations like this! C’mon, gimme!” He leans across Spirit’s legs and grasps at Vio’s bag.

She grabs his wrist before they can reach anything. “A stamina elixir won’t help her, it’ll only make her feel more awake as she dies!” A pang of pity hits Vio’s stomach when she sees Spirit flinch at it so plainly put.

Traveler shakes his head. “No- for me! I can heal her enough for stitches if my magic isn’t fully depleted.”

Within an instant the elixir is in his hands, and soon after the remaining green liquid disappears down his throat. He gags momentarily—that one has the taste of pure salt and the texture of spoiled milk—before clasping the sliced flesh shut between his hands. Spirit’s scream is loud and mangled and the only thing Vio can do is pull her close, muffling the wretched cries that tear through her little body into their chest.