Chapter Text
His boy.
His boy.
Rudo was crying and screaming, his hands being ripped from Regto’s body — his warmth being torn away from his father’s senses. Regto begged for his body to move, to work in tangency with his mind. He needed to comfort his son, to tell the apostles that Rudo would never do something like this. Why couldn’t he move—? His brain felt sluggish, a haze pulling and twisting over all of his thoughts. His eyes were already fading, dizzying out and giving up. Regto could feel his fingertips tingle, slowly loosing sensation.
The sounds of Rudo arguing with the apostles split into Regto’s head. Through the muddled static around him he could hear a crack, before the voice of his kid went silent. Rudo was never one to be silent in a situation like this — what did the apostles do to him? Is Rudo okay..?
Regto tried to get any portion of his body to move. Tried to get his fingers to dig into the bloodied ground beneath him. But his body wasn’t listening, and his senses were fading.
Rudo — they did something to Rudo. He had to get up, to tell them Rudo’s innocent— He had to… to. .
Do something! They were taking Rudo — they were taking his son— HIS son-
The words slipped out past his tongue, a quiet gasp before Regto could sense a thick liquid coat the inners of his mouth. He made himself cough, the warm liquid coating his skin. The voices were getting quiet — why were they getting quiet..?
Where did… where is his son. .?
“Rudo! Be careful, you might fall and get hurt!”
Regto could barely hold back a sigh as Rudo stuck his tongue out at him from atop the tree. He stared up at the seven year old, his own arms stretched out to catch the kid when he inevitably fell. Not if, but when. The kid always pulled at his heart strings in that way. Rudo, in all his resilience, had the whole world turned against him. Sometimes it felt as if fate itself destined Rudo to fall into nothingness.
Despite the true nature of the albino, everything seemed cemented at his very birth. Rudo was to be discarded by all, hated and disgusted by all — feared by all.
Even with all of the kid’s efforts, no matter how hard his fingers dug into the thick walls around him, the boy always fell.
But,
Regto was there now. Regto would always be there for him. Till the day he dies. It wasn’t a shock when the branch underneath the boy snapped. Rudo let out a yelp, fear overcoming his features as he braced for the impact. Only for Regto’s warm arms to catch him.
”What did I tell you? You’re lucky I’m here for ya’ kid..”
Regto muttered, but his tone was soft as he ruffled the boys hair. The man couldn’t help but smile softly.
When Rudo squirmed in his hold, Regto only held on tighter.
He carried Rudo into the house, ignoring the boy’s complaints about being carried. All the man had to do was massage behind Rudo’s left ear, and the boy quieted down. It was their little secret — Rudo’s little weak spot. Massaging just behind his left ear would calm the boy down.
It helped during the kid’s episodes. Never fully quenched the pain that wrecked the boy’s body. But comforted Rudo nonetheless. Only his father— his TRUE father knew of Rudo’s soft spot. That always meant that Regto was there with him, and wasn’t leaving anytime soon.
“Now, why in the world were you climbing that tree?”
”I wasn’t doing it for jack shit..”
”Rudo.. it’s just me, kid. You don’t have to worry.”
Regto didn’t sigh, or roll his eyes. He even held in his teasing as he rubbed Rudo’s back, his hold on him loosening. Tight enough to ground the boy, loose enough so Rudo didn’t feel trapped. Encaged.
Every day Regto would never forget the disgust coiling in his gut at the reminder of the pain intentionally inflicted onto his kid.
Rudo’s father was lucky that he fell into the pit. If Regto ever got his hands on him…
”. .I wanted to see over the wall. Som’ kids ta’day were talking about what’s on the other side..”
Right. His kid, safe in his arms.
Regto let the anger dissipate from his muscles.
”If you wanted to do that, why not say so?”
He teased with a chuckle, slipping his smirk back on. Regto ruffled the kids hair, dropping the boy on the couch. He let out an amused chuckle when the boy squeaked at being dropped.
”Look. Next time I go and buy some more books, I’ll take you with me, ‘Kay?”
”but. .”
Regto watched as Rudo looked down at his hands, watched as the albino boy fiddled with the gloves he gave him. The gloves that covered the scars the sphere knew him for.
Sometimes all Regto felt was disgust.
Disgust at the filthy, shitty world.
”I’ll be right there with ya’ kid.. whenever I’m here, you won’t have to worry about anything. You’ll be safe with me, until the day I die.”
”I’ll always be there to catch you.”
“..—e’s st—l al—ve?!—. . som—ne— —elp— —me—ic— -NOW!—“
Regto couldn’t remember what had been going on. His head felt light and heavy at the same time — dizzy with a weight threatening to crush his skull entirely. His body was fuzzy, his torso…what happened with his torso, again..? Something… what was it..? Regto couldn’t remember through the fog in his head.
It took a while for his body to register someone else beside him. Regto couldn’t feel anything. Couldn’t feel pain, couldn’t feel the weight of his clothes against hus own body. Vaguely, the man could sense a weight on his torso — the feeling differentiating through the bits of recollection in his memory.
Everything was so. . Fuzzy…
Regto was supposed to remember something. But the thought slipped against his hands. Hands. .why were his hands wet..? Red.. bloody? He was bleeding.. why was he bleeding..?
Purpose.. Regto needs a purpose…
Rudo.
Where’s his son?
An apostle is saying something. No — not an apostle. A person from the tribesfolk. Ah. Mondo. He was the only one that just ignored the two. Mondo didn’t participate in the whispers, but also didn’t really do anything to stop them, either. Not that Regto would blame the guy. He had a family to feed — he couldn’t gamble with his reputation like Regto.
..Why was Mondo…?
Pain crashed into his head, a migraine that felt as if it was cutting his skull in half. The pain tingled back into sensation now. There were a few people around him. Not that he could sense who — only their presence.
With the pain, came the memories.
Remembering what happened tore into Regto’s chest, slicing open his heart and organs for the world to see. His chest spasmed — not from the stab wound — but from panic.
His son. . How could he.. not be there for him?
What’s happening to his son? He has to tell them..
“—Rudo—. . my—“
Warm liquid filled his mouth, and he spat it out with a sickening squelch.
He has to… to hold on.. for Rudo..
But his visions getting so dark — he got stabbed — didn’t he? Shit.. his son, he had to live for Rudo. The boy needs him — Regto needs Rudo.
“-him? . . You — worry, he—. . .—pit—. .sick—always knew he’d be like his father..—“
The other words were foggy. Distant. As if Regto was listening to whoever was speaking through murky mud.
But that one sentence stood out. Something Regto had to hear every. Day. For years.
Regto felt his heart stop, his veins turning cold at the words. His hazy eyes grew clear, a shit load of sensations hitting him all at once. Regto sat up, his eyes blown wide. Blood gushed out of his mouth like a leaky faucet — one he ignored.
They couldn’t— wouldn’t—
His heart quickened, and his body — already weak with the loss of blood, couldn’t handle the panic that ripped through the man. He barely noticed the tremors ripping through himself. Ignored how his torso spat blood out when his spine bent forward. How a thick puddle of blood laid around him. Rudo probably had Regto’s blood on him. The boy thinking the only person who ever cared for him was murdered in front of him. The boy, who cried over his father’s body.
The boy,
because that’s all he was. A boy. One hated by society as a whole, a boy who watched his father’s blood seep into the floor. In their home, once filled with the laughter of the two. Their own bubble, filled with warm memories. Their own bubble, that was now filled with the retched smell of blood.
Regto was always there for Rudo.
Until the day he couldn’t be.
Regto felt his brain fizzle out one last time, his eyes glazing over as his head turned to static, and his vision faded to black. He passed out with one thought, one desperate message clinging to his chest as static filled his senses.
I love you, my son.