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“…Taako, I don’t think I’m going to make it.”
“Don’t fucking say that.” Taako grips Lup’s hand tighter, tighter, as if he can somehow squeeze a stronger pulse back into her. Her fingers are slick with sweat. “You’re not allowed to fucking give up on me.”
“I’m… not. I’m not,” Lup mumbles. She’s not looking at him — not concerning in and of itself; they’ve never needed to meet eyes to understand what the other means — but as for the way that her head slips off her pillow, the way that she’s curling in on herself…
It makes Taako’s stomach erupt into pain, and he’s not the one who taste-tested the chicken.
(Part of him wishes that he was.)
“I just… need to know that you’re ready,” Lup whispers, and Taako can’t tell if it’s a drop of sweat or a tear that runs down her face. “To… take care of yourself…”
He wants to tear his hair out and scream. He wants make yet another scene that gets Glamour Springs’ poor overburdened healer running in from the next room, and he wants to ask — how the fuck could he ever be ready for this? What the fuck is he supposed to do without her —
But all he says is: “Stop. Just — stop. You need to rest.”
As he adjusts her pillow — offering her a sip of water that she accepts, but not without a wince — he eases down onto her bed too, bunching up the sheets that she rejected. It’s a tight squeeze to fit with her, but he’s not willing to wait at any greater distance. “And I… I’ll rest with you, see?”
She’s much, much too warm to the touch. Lying down, he can’t see her face anymore, as she whispers:
“I love you, Taako.”
And he can’t in good conscience tell her not to say that, but his heart pounds and he almost retches, trying not to think about how she made it sound so final.
*
“Taako, I don’t think she’s going to make it.”
Taako sits bolt upright. The door in front of him is closed, the room is dim — dimmer than he remembers leaving it, even — and Lup is still breathing softly, thank gods, thank more fucking gods than Taako can remember the names of —
But someone, something, looms over the foot of the bed — human-shaped, but floating above the ground. Cloaked in black shadows, and… and a glowing crimson robe.
When the empty, expressionless face under the hood points at him — oh, when it somehow meets his eyes — Taako feels as if something is tightening around his heart. His pounding, pounding heart.
On reflex, on adrenaline, he throws an arm over Lup. Clutching his wand, no matter how much it trembles.
“Taako, I…”
He’s probably kidding himself. A wizard of party tricks like his probably can’t do shit — because that red-robed thing is terrifying. Probably powerful enough to kill him with a touch. And it’s… it’s…
…Familiar?
“I’m so sorry, Taako. But none of this is your fault.”
No, absolutely not familiar. Taako would remember seeing something like this before. If he somehow even survived seeing something like this before —
But the specter has some kind of gravitational field regardless, because Taako feels entropically, inextricably drawn in. Tangled up with this entity, tangled up with the threads of that robe, and getting even moreso by the second — like a fish on an invisible line, fighting against the pull forward. Why does part of him want to lean forward?
He can’t. He shouldn’t —
“Careful. I’m sorry about — about that feeling there too,” the specter murmurs, and he even sounds like he means it. “I don’t wanna say to not look directly at me, because that’s — that’s not the real problem, but… don’t think too hard about it if you do, okay? Don’t think too hard about any of this, and we’ll all get through this. I promise.”
Oh, it’s — it’s earnest. There’s conviction there, it’s — it’s so tempting to believe. The least trustworthy words Taako’s ever been tempted to believe.
“Are you — are you Death?” he whispers. “Coming for Lup?”
He almost regrets saying her name — in case that it gave Death any more power over her, any final push — but instead, instead of leaning in to nod and seize Lup’s soul, the specter’s reaction might be the last thing Taako expected.
A wry, almost weepy laugh.
“Oh, no. Gods, no.” Under the red hood, a flash of white, bright features blinking in and out of existence. “And since when has death ever kept her apart from you, bud?”
Taako really is a hooked fish. Can’t look away no matter how hard he tries, with thoughts that are swimming, floundering, and useless.
“Wh-what do you want?” he asks, and the specter begins, oh-so-slowly, to approximate a kneel at the side of the bed, no longer quite so looming.
“To help.” The temperature in the once-sweltering room begins to fall — an almost refreshing draft catching Taako’s face, as a subtle blue glow ripples off the red fabric. “It will be okay. Things will change, in ways I truly don’t know how to explain, but she won’t leave us. She won’t leave you. She would never.”
Lup chokes through a breath that’s more strained than most, and the specter lowers whatever counts for eyes on an entity like him.
“I — I would just like to make this next part less painful. For all of us, of course, but her especially.”
When Taako doesn’t react, the entity rests a hand on Lup’s ankle. His fingers are gaunt, and up close, a little transparent. Taako can’t imagine what his touch feels like, much less why Lup doesn’t recoil — is she not strong enough to? Is she not conscious enough to notice? Or does she just… not want to?
“She’s always been the strongest of all of us,” the specter mumbles, “but I’d like for her to not need to be, you know?”
There is something familiar in the air here. Something familiar about Lup, to this intruder.
She wouldn’t have made a devil’s bargain for the event of her death without telling Taako, would she? She wouldn’t. Fuck, it would’ve come up.
“What do you want?” Taako repeats, and the specter stares at him.
“I thought I’d, uh, been giving you a good overview —”
“In — let me finish. What do you want in return?” He swallows. “For saving her.”
“Oh. No, I — why would I need anything?” The specter pauses, blinking again, but that semblance of an actual facial expression is so fleeting that there’s no telling how seriously he means the next thing. “Unless, I mean — I guess I wouldn’t say no to a hug, though I dunno if you’ll be up for —”
Despite everything, Taako’s jaw drops. “I’m not fucking hugging that. Wouldn’t even if I could, you’re all incorporeal and shit, and — Taako’s not about —”
“Alright.” The specter moves imperceptibly fast, to the head of the bed, and Taako doesn’t even have time to lift his wand. The — that undead thing, that monster — brushes a finger across Lup’s forehead, whispering a single word —
And Taako may not be a healer, but why would he fucking need to be? He knows deep in his bones what a killing spell sounds like when he hears one.
When he hears Lup’s breath stop.
“I’m sorry,” the lich whispers, and the blood roars in Taako’s ears; he channels a spell more powerful than he can name, and just an instant later, magic more powerful than he can comprehend snuffs it out. His wand slips out of his grip, and he doesn’t pick it back up, instead diving to take Lup’s face in his hands, just to be sure — and her skin is burning, smoldering hot.
“I’m sorry, it’s all gonna be okay. I’m sorry, it’ll take just one more second. I’m sorry, I’ll help you understand as soon as I can — I love you both so much. I’m sorry. Can you hear me yet, Lup? Taako, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have woken you up for this —”
Taako lunges off of the bed, swinging a fist at the lich. He knows it won’t work, because he’s helpless, and useless, even though surely Lup would’ve been able to save him —
The lich’s hands fly up, but before Taako can even reach him — or more likely, go tumbling to the floor — something catches hold of him. Levitating him in place, in midair. And it’s not a painful grip, it isn’t trying to hurt him yet, but Taako still swings his fists, shouting —
“Put me down! Put me down, you coward —”
The lich stares, but he does not move to release the spell. He just stares — past Taako, through Taako.
“He won’t hurt me. Wouldn’t if he could, you know that,” the lich says — with a sad smile audible in his voice, even when it’s nowhere in sight on his face. “Could you put him down, honey?”
Taako only has time to think — And now there’s fucking two of them? — for a fraction of a second. Before he feels the heat from the fire raging at his back. The lich, that same first one that never left his sight, moves fast as an arrow again, taking Taako by the shoulders and turning him around in midair —
Forcing him to face the bed, where — where the body lies, except —
Except from every square inch of Lup’s crumpled form, from her heart most of all, glowing red threads are winding out, twitching as they reach into the air. There is one that reaches all the way out to Taako, coiling around his chest and holding him up, and there are these flames that jump between them as they multiply, and weave together, until —
Until there is a Lup-shaped specter in a red robe, holding Taako by the lapels.
“You said you were going to rest! You almost fell on your face, goofus!”
“What — what did he — what did he do to you?!” Taako chokes out, because that is Lup’s voice, and that is not Lup’s body, but this being in front of him is still some part of her, and —
“He? Who —” Lup echoes, and as Taako senses some movement from the first lich behind him, Lup’s whole form lights up multi-colored. “Oh! Barry! Where have you been, babe, I —”
Her grip, still incorporeal, somehow tightens even more around Taako — as if the other lich wasn’t holding his shoulders firmly enough. “Taako? Do you not remember Barry? Oh, gods, do I only remember Barry because I — because I —”
She gazes down at her hands — fiery with red threads wound around them, like fishnets with charcoal-black bones beneath — and before she can begin to shudder, the other lich lunges forwards and presses his face into her shoulder, with one hand still on Taako’s back to bring him in too.
“I’ll get us bodies. And backups. It’ll be okay, Lup, I’ll get you caught up — I missed you so much —”
“Can you get Taako’s memories back? I missed you so much too —” Lup gasps, and Taako is fully squished into a hug between two eldritch abominations now. One who is made of shadows and cold, and one who’s made of fire and is also his sister. Who is dead, and yet more full of life and energy now than she’d been at any point in the last two days.
What did she do? What did she just fucking become?
And did she — did she maybe, actually want this?
“We’ll work on it together. There’s gotta be a way — fuck. Fuck, I love you both,” Barry whispers, voice wavering and cracking — and Taako’s feet finally lower to the floor, though neither lich lets go of him.
With his throat tightening, he wonders — does he want that? Does he want them to let go one bit?
Hell, maybe — maybe he didn’t even want them to lower him down, because his legs are shaking as much as his thoughts are swimming. And… and lich-Lup even seems to notice?
“Taako?” Her voice sounds carefully measured. Purposefully gentle, like she worries it could break him. “You okay there, bud?”
“Am — am I okay?” he sputters. No more lump in his throat, suddenly. Gods. Fuck. Surely she knows he couldn’t let this slide, right? She has to know. “Am I, me, Taako, okay? You’re the one who fucking died!”
“And Barry made it quick, and I got better!”
“You still died! Perished! I — I still lost you —”
“It’s not like it’s the first time!” Lup shoots back, and when Taako’s knees buckle, he’s pretty sure it’s actually Barry who catches him. There’s no time to process why he can so easily tell their magic apart.
“How is it not the first time that you died?!” he shouts back, shocked that he’s not devolving into sobs by now, and Lup winces.
“Oh, fuck. Fuck. Forget I said that, it’s not — it didn’t stick, okay? Barry, is that gonna fuck up his brain?”
“No,” Barry replies, and then: “Well, maybe. A — a little. Taako, I’m sorry, I shoulda explained this better — I shoulda explained it slower! But Lup was in pain, and I wanted to stop it, I wasn’t thinking straight — I think you should lie down, I really think you should. Before we explain anything else —”
Taako, too, thinks that he should lie down. But he also thought that his sister was dead, and he thought that Sazed was a trustworthy employee, and he thought that Sizzle it Up was his big break and the people loved him and everything good would last forever — so clearly, he has a lot of thoughts that can’t be trusted.
“Well, I think — I think Lup made it pretty clear that she wants me to — to pass the fuck out, instead of challenging any more ghosts to fisticuffs,” he chokes out, which gets a wry chuckle from Barry, and that reaction makes Taako feel a faint sense of triumph he can’t unpack right now — so he just swallows, hard, and adds: “But someone’s gonna come investigate this racket soon. Maybe you should, uh —”
Gods, this can’t be happening. He can’t be about to ask this. But… Glamour Springs has barely put their pitchforks away after catching Sazed. And he can’t blame them, but like hell does he want to be caught consorting with undead mages when he barely managed to prove his innocence the first time, and —
He swallows. “Maybe we should get out of here, since we don’t need… healing anymore. Maybe you have an… evil lair, or whatever —”
Because, fuck it. If Lup trusts this guy, Taako trusts this guy. If he made her death painless, and that was what Lup wanted — what Lup is still around to explain that she wanted — then Taako can forgive him. And because — strictly because Lup would want him to. Not because this — this Barry guy is making Taako feel anything inexplicable, any kind of nostalgia, or sense of safety, or anything. Gods. Damn it.
“Oh, you know, it looks like Barry warded this place, actually,” Lup says, reaching up and tucking a curl of Taako’s hair behind his ear. Taako braces for it to burn, but on some level, he’s not surprised when it doesn’t. “Do you have a lair, though, babe?”
The fucker actually blushes. “Oh, yeah. Yeah. I haven’t, uh, haven’t been dead for as long as you’d think, but — yeah, I do. In fact, I’d love to take you back to my evil lair.”
“Our evil lair,” Lup coos, and if Taako previously had any confusion about the nature of the vibes between these two — which he absolutely, positively, for fucking certain did — then her tone just cleared it right up. Not just a devil’s bargain in the event of her death, exactly.
Taako’s not living a nightmare anymore. No, he’s living a fever dream.
“When. And how. And why. The fuck,” he says, “Did you acquire. A secret lich boyfriend, without telling —”
Before Lup can respond — before Taako can even finish, really, Barry nervously clicks his tongue — how? — on the word boyfriend. Taako freezes.
“No. Surely not secret lich husband. No! Surely not. Lup. Lulu. Loop-de-loop. Lupita. Surely you didn’t —”
For just a second, just one moment, Lup genuinely looks cornered. Her, the the fucking undead unkillable abomination, cornered. Well, good. She deserves to be.
“Like I said, babe,” she says slowly, fire glowing especially red where her face would be, “you’ve got some gaps in your memory that we’re gonna have to fix…”
Barry nods. “No one went behind anyone’s back. No, yeah. Exactly,” he stammers along, a little sheepish — and then, very quietly, adds: “Also, at risk of devolving into static… you shipped it, bud. You approved.”
That fucker’s intertwining his fingers with Lup’s, now, with his other hand gently supporting Taako’s arm. Wherever Lup touches Barry, wherever she so much as grazes him for a second, a fiery orange glow remains — Lup probably finds that cute. Lup finds a lot of horrifying things cute. Always has.
Now, where Barry holds Taako’s arm? It’s all a lot subtler, but a faint blue light ripples across his spectral hand. Rhythmic, like a heartbeat, in a way that Lup’s fire just isn’t.
Lup being married to some fucker Taako’s never seen before, to some fucker Taako can’t even remember? That’s one thing, when you put it that way. But as for Taako being tangled up in — in some emotional mess that makes his heart swell, and his desperation start to fade? Taako having been tangled up in some mess like this since before he even knew this mess existed?
That feels a lot more plausible. Much to his surprise.
“You think you can take that on credit for now, bud?” Barry asks, and Taako knows the answer. Even though he won’t say it.
“I hate you, you know? I just remembered it all in a flash — I hate your guts,” he mutters — and so much for trying to be difficult, because he feels the elation that comes from Lup and Barry in response. Makes it damn hard to keep the scowl on his face, is what it does.
“You don’t have to lie about remembering it all, bud,” Barry says, smiling clear as day, and pats Taako’s arm. “But I’m glad you’re at least getting all the important parts.”