WHAT: Atreus came out to have a good time and honestly heâs feeling very attacked right now. WHERE: The Sanctuary WHEN: Earlier today, Aug 17th WARNINGS: SAD, clones, hurt feelings, some violence. STATUS: Complete
The clone could easily have come with razor sharp claws or fangs or something to set Shiroâs nightmare apart as other, but that was the crux of the nightmare really. He looked exactly like Shiro. He looked like Shiro now even, with his new arm and his white hair. His eyes werenât red or even terrifying at all. They were gentle and kind, at first glance. Worst of all, the clone knew exactly what Shiro held dear â here, in Vallo - and he had every intention of wreaking havoc on all of it.
He decided to start at the Sanctuary. He had no interest in the animals. Just the man Takashi Kogane thought of as one of his best friends.
Finding his own way to Atreusâs home, the clone stood underneath the treehouse and peered up the stairs like a hawk surveying its attack path. He let himself into the house. It was early, the sun barely cresting the horizon, but he knew Atreus would already be out feeding his charges. Lance would have left for work, if he'd stayed the night. The house was as empty as expected.
The clone picked up one of Atreus's sketchbooks and sat down in a chair with his back to a corner. His posture was a little more coiled snake than true Shiro but he would skip into his role soon enough. He idly flipped through the pages of the book in the meantime.
It took a little while for Atreus to finish his early morning chores and make it back to his small house. Lore had been fussy all morning, but everything had been a little weird with strange dreams popping up and Atreus couldnât blame him. The knowledge that his own dreams were often prophetic coupled with people having ones come to life had been a minor worry of his, and his wolf often read into his moods.
But heâd stayed in the yard with the others, continued his morning patrol of the grounds while Atreus went to change into his running shorts.
It took the demigod half a second before he noticed the figure in the chair furthest away, and he thankfully was able to stop himself before pulling a weapon from the wall. âShit-- you scared the crap out of me.â His stance relaxed on reflex noticing Shiro, at ease. âArenât you supposed to be on patrol? Is everything okay?â
âEverythingâs fine,â the clone assured. âI just came by to say hello and didnât want to distract you from your work.â He flipped another page lazily and then looked up at Atreus through his eyelashes. Shiroâs memories told him Atreus would not be taken down easily. He was powerful and he was clever. But like Keith, he was also soft. For animals, for people. For Shiro. He wouldnât expect anything untoward from anyone wearing this face.
The clone made sure to smile, a little awkward and shy. âIs thisâŠuhâŠâ He hesitated as if he was looking for polite words. âIs this your older work? From when you were a kid?â The art was well done, but a well-aimed insult wasnât always aimed at fact. More often it was aimed at potential insecurity.
âYou could have helped,â Atreus joked as he crossed the circular room to gather his things. He didnât actually expect Shiro to help out around the sanctuary, but he was a little spoiled by it. Theyâd all done a lot here just recently, the volunteers that had come out to help build the playground, including Shiro, all deserved a break.
âUh-â The question came as Atreus was pulling a shirt out of the wooden wardrobe, and he winced slightly, but recovered with an embarrassed chuckle. âNo, thatâs my current sketchbook. The Lance one at the end I just drew last night, donât tell me I got his nose wrong.â He gave himself a quiet reminder to go back and check even if Shiro apologetically backed off. Just in case.
Shiro's clone flipped through to the Lance art. In truth, it was an obnoxiously loving representation, just like most of Atreus's work. He was an obnoxiously loving person after all. But the clone winced and slowly set the book back on the side table, like he was afraid of hurting Atreus's feelings and not deliberately trying to do exactly that.
"Well. Art is subjective, right?" He stood up and walked around the room. His movements were mostly identical to Shiro's, only with a cage panther quality. Shiro only moved like that when he was angry or in a fight. The clone didn't even notice. "Anyway, I wanted to let you know I have to cancel our next lunch. Maybe the next couple, actually. Keith and I were talking, and we'd like to have lunch together more often. You understand, right?"
Atreus was observant, but soft in all the ways that hurt. Even as he noticed the subtle difference, even as he watched-- he winced. He took that to heart, where it dug deep into his chest. Their lunches had been postponed or even skipped or canceled before for a variety of reasons, but never quite like this.
âYeah I mean- of course.â Even if he understood, it still hurt his feelings to be pushed aside, and his tone was quiet and more reserved than normal. The self-doubt started creeping in, wondering if Shiro was looking for an excuse to avoid him, or if something else was going on.
His eyes narrowed in Shiroâs direction, now taking in the movements that were familiar yet odd in this case. âAre you okay? Are you sure nothing happened?â
It was too easy to aim for Atreusâs soft spots. He had so many. The clone hid his delight by frowning and ruffling a hand through his hair. âIâm fine. Maybe a little tired and overworked with the dream mess? I justâŠwant to make sure I keep my priorities straight, you know?â The real Shiro would always prioritize Atreus. That was the point. But the clone didnât want to be found out too fast, so he backpedaled a little. âI mean, as soon as we get a quiet month and I can catch up on some things, everything can go back the way it was obviously. Just bear with me?"
He smiled, faux apologetic but believable. Of course, a familiar voice outside had to ruin everything.
âAtreus!â Shiro sounded far away. He must have still been at ground level, beneath the tree. âAre you up there?â
The clone feigned surprise and confusion, moving between Atreus and the door. âI donât know what kind of trick this is. Be prepared for a fight.â His mechanical arm began to glow. True Shiro let himself inside into the house in a rush, eyes searching and worried before they grew adjusted to the interior and grew large. The clone mirrored the expression and acted as if he was shielding Atreus by stepping between them.
âUh,â Atreus peeked around the cloneâs shoulder to look at the newcomer. âSo this part I wasnât expecting.â They looked identical, right down to the arm, and Atreusâ big brain went through a rollercoaster as he plotted and mapped out every single word and movement that had passed between them in the last five minutes.
If the new Shiro hadnât intervened, the apologetic act mightâve actually worked on him. He was soft and a sucker for his friends, something he didnât have many of until heâd gotten here, and so he would have sadly backed down and might have believed the speech.
Now, however, he went on high alert. It was a gamble trying to pick a side and Atreus didnât necessarily want to attack any Shiro, even if heâd heard a few of the clone stories of the past. He was quick and stealthy as he grabbed one of the paints behind him, and smeared a swipe of green onto the cloneâs outfit as he pushed him forward in an attempt to mark which was which. âSo should we do like-- a quiz? Whatâs our safe word? Whatâs the protocol here?â
The original clone might have taken the time to play this game. He had Shiro's face; he could make it look guileless and trustworthy if he really wanted to put in the effort. But this clone was a nightmare creation and the thought bored him. He was driven to do what would hurt Shiro the most and that was hurting the people he cared about.
The real Shiro drew his bayard the moment he saw the decision in his clone's eyes, but he wasn't fast enough to stop him.
The clone kicked a chair at Shiro and dove for Atreus, taking him over the top of the nearby kitchen island with all the force his engineered body and robot arm could manage. They crashed to the kitchen floor and he bashed Atreus's head against the tile.
"Atreus!" Shiro bounced off a wall avoiding the flung chair and hurried around the island, sword drawn.
âFuck-â Atreus landed head first, and took a few more hits before he managed to get his feet under him to push the clone back. The little bit of leverage he got was helpful, at least, as he kicked with enough force to struggle out of the hold to stand again. He took up a fighting stance, but with a worried glance towards the newcoming Shiro, and his vision blurred suddenly.
Blood dripped down his head and over his eye, and Atreus swayed slightly. His godly healing wasnât instant, unfortunately, but Atreus wasnât the type to lie down and take a hit. So against the better judgement of just about anyone who would see him later, he pulled a come at me wag of his fingers towards the clone. âIâve fought bigger with less before. Bring it on.â
Shiroâs focus was immediately torn between stopping the clone and stopping the blood from escaping Atreusâs body. There was a short list of people who Shiro would protect above public safety, above world safety, and Atreus was on it. When Shiro made it around the island to Atreusâs side, the clone drew his own bayard and shaped it into a shield.
The clone smiled at Atreusâs come get some gesture, all sharp angles and malicious glee. âItâs so much more fun when they think they canât possibly lose,â he sneered.
There was an ache in Shiroâs chest and he realized it was because looking at this version of himself made him wonder if he couldâve ever gotten here. If he hadnât escaped the arena. If the Galra had just a little more time to shape him into a tool of destruction and to chip away at his humanity. He frowned. The clone laughed at that, before he drove forward with force. It looked like he was aiming at Atreus and Shiro only had a split second to step between them. They all slammed into the shelves behind them.
Shiro didnât feel his phone tumble from his pocket. He wouldnât think about it until much later, when it was too late to do anything about it.
The shield hit harder than he realized. Heâd never been on the receiving end before. But he stayed focused on protecting Atreus and striking back with enough force to drive the clone backward. The fight was short and bruising, and the clone quickly took an opening to worsen Atreusâs head injury with a slap of his shield. The moment Shiroâs attention was redirected, the clone fled.
Shiro cursed with uncharacteristic force and grabbed a towel from nearby to press it to Atreusâs bleeding head. âIâm so sorry. Are you okay? How is your vision? Iâm so sorry.â
Atreus managed to wrap his arm around Shiroâs arm as the towel was pressed on his head. The fight had been a blur for him, a combination of fast paced moves and bloodloss getting to him. When it was over, he barely felt Shiro approach him, and slowly sunk down to rest on the floor.
He squeezed Shiroâs arm. âIâm good- Iâll be okay. Itâs not your fault.â He reached up to take over the pressure on his bleeding head, but his hand fumbled slightly trying to find it. He hissed when he found it. âI think it looks worse than it is, I swear. You donât even hit that hard.â A joke that he had to figure wouldnât lighten the mood, but Atreus couldnât help trying anyway. âGo. Iâll call Lance, you need to get Keith.â
Shiro didn't digify Atreus's gallows humor with a laugh. He just shook his head violently and looked around for the first aid kit. Atreus would heal fast, but Shiro knew there was at least one kit he'd brought to the house himself. He collected it with a small sigh of relief.
"I'm not leaving you. I'll wait for Lance and then I'll go after him. JustâŠ" His eyes were full of remorse. "Please, Atreus. Just hold still and don't be a difficult patient."
Atreus sighed and nodded, giving in. Arguing with Shiro right now would do neither of them any good and he knew he wasnât going to win, not in this situation.
âIâll have you know Iâm the perfect patient.â In an immediate contradition of his words, Atreus pulled the makeshift bandage away to glance at how much blood had saturated the cloth. He put it back immediately. âIâm an okay patient.â