Archive of Our Own ^beta

From the very beginning, Esther hated her place.

From the moment she was born in a hospital the color of carved ivory, wrapped in a cloth of ruby and laid in her golden mother’s arms, her parents forced a silver spoon into her mouth instead of a pacifier. 

Her parents ran on redstone. Not with the feeling of it between their fingers or seeing the way it glistened in low light. Instead, they owned the mines that churned it out, the boats that sold their products overseas, the shops that sold it, refined and perfect.

Her family slept on warm, spotless beds while their workers slept with the rats. They ate from fine china plates instead of from tin lunchboxes. They dwelled in a warm mansion instead of nearly freezing out in the cold night after night. They enjoyed the finer pleasures in life while their workers were just lucky to be alive. 

Frankly, Esther preferred the latter. 

There was just something alluring about those wintry nights, back when she would stare out the window as it snowed, wishing she was out there instead of being stuck inside, forced to learn the same old moves in chess or the same old notes on the flute. She hated her parents’ mindless chats about money and profits. She hated his siblings and how they teased her for not being good enough. She hated everything about her life. 

The chance came during a “vacation” to a town ripe with the spirit of the family business. The family stayed at another fancy hotel, complete with bars of soap on golden plates and mints on every pillow. Everything was planned out in an eye-rolling itinerary. Wake up, get dressed, have breakfast, watch the workers while they toiled, have lunch, learn about what it took to be a businessman, have dinner and go to bed. There was very little time in between to take a breath. 

It just so happened to be around the start of skating season.

Esther’s father loved to take his children skating at their nearby indoor skating rink. He did it for many reasons. To spend time with his children between finances, to give his kids a fine appreciation for the arts, to sharpen their culture around his wealthy colleagues. 

Esther wasn’t good at it. Not by a long shot.

She dreaded every time they went out to the rink, but she had no choice. She couldn’t get away from it. She couldn’t get away from the other children bullying her, calling her names like “Captain Penguin” and “Madam Slips-a-Lot.” She couldn’t get away from her siblings and how they snickered at every trip up, although they tried to stifle it away like a cough. She couldn’t get away from her parents’ stern eyes as they watched her skate like a baby fawn standing for the first time, always falling right on her face. 

But she wasn’t going to be an embarrassment, not anymore. 

She had packed her skates somewhere deep in her suitcase, somewhere her parents would never find them. Covered by fancy clothes and warm designer jackets, ones that scratched her neck and made her itch. She didn’t like them, but that was all the clothes she had. Although her parents told her not to bring them, Esther didn’t want to take any chances. She wanted to be prepared. 

Once Esther saw that lake, frozen over in a blue sheet of ice, she knew what she had to do. 

It was the night before an important business meeting, one his parents set up and took their entire family to go see the inner workings of a life they had been born into. Esther woke up in the middle of the night, restless and bored like she always was. There was nothing to do there, which was torture for any ten-year-old who couldn’t sleep. 

She tiptoed through the halls, as quiet as a mouse, not wanting the pride of lions that was her family to catch her and eat her whole for what she was about to do. She crept through the entire mansion before getting to the heavy door, opening it enough for her tiny body to sneak through before it closed with a heavy, loud thud. 

She hoped nobody heard it. If they did, she would be toast. 

With her old life behind her, Esther ran as fast as she could with her little fur boots on the snowy ground. The warm coat around her body, black and puffy like a burnt marshmallow, was starting to gather snowflakes, more evidence of her escape that she would have to explain to her parents. Her gloved hands held a pair of skates, held together by the laces with blades as sharp as her parents’ gazes when they found out about this little adventure of hers. 

But Esther didn’t care. After all, she was doing it for them. 

The trek to the lake was long. Long enough for her to walk without her parents intervening, long enough for him to take in the environment around him. Tall evergreens that prodded at the stars, poking through the dark sky like holes in a paper. Esther spent most of the walk staring up at the sky, noticing the new world around her. 

She knew she wasn’t alone out there in the woods. Esther noticed a lone snowshoe rabbit burrowing himself under a holly bush, warming himself in his protective warren. She shuddered as a large red hawk flew overhead, going over to settle on her aerie across the forest. Her heart melted as he observed a pair of blue jays sleeping in a nest, keeping each other warm in the iciness of the winter wonderland. 

By the time she got to the lake, her legs were starting to get tired and numb with cold. The sky was a few hints brighter, an hourglass of the time she had left before her family woke up and started to search for her. 

Esther sat down on a nearby stump near the lake, quickly untangling and putting on the white skates, highlighted by a single blue maple leaf near the back. She stood up, rising from the stump while still clinging onto it as she slowly fell onto her side with a small scream. 

Just like she always did, Esther got up, her legs unsteady. She shakily moved around, settling herself into a standing pose. Her legs were a little crooked, but she was standing, so that counted for something. 

Ever so slowly, Esther started to move. It was awkward at first, but she was getting the hang of it. She let his skates guide her as she slid in a straight line, landing headfirst into a patch of snow as a rock stopped the fluid motion. She was a little cold as some of the snow splashed into her jacket, but she wasn’t hurt. 

If anything, Esther was proud. Probably the proudest she had ever been of herself. Sure, she could never compare to her siblings and her father wouldn’t let her forget it, but it was good to be proud of herself for once. 

She got back up, this time steadier and more confident. She moved about some more, able to guide her own directions with just the gentle moves of her legs. A twist here, a turn there. The entire world spun around dizzily, but Esther didn’t care. She opened her mouth in a wide smile, one with a few teeth missing from growing up, yet to be replaced with permanent ones. She threw her hands up in the air in victorious fists as she let herself slide to the side of the lake, falling backwards onto another comfortable patch of snow. 

Esther couldn’t believe this. She was learning so well, so much better than her parents ever thought she could. She loved the feeling of gliding around, the way the blades seemed to carve into the ice beneath her and the way the snow caught her like a Victorian woman to a fainting couch. 

One more round wouldn’t hurt, would it? 

Getting back up once again, Esther brushed off some of the snow from her arms and continued. She seemed to float across the ice, as fluidly as the nearby flock of ravens taking flight up above. She twirled around in disorienting, nauseating circles, skating along without a care in the world. 

She wished it would never—

CRACK!

Before Esther could fully process the loud sound, she was already feeling the ice below tilt. She kicked wildly, holding onto the ice as she resisted the pull of gravity, but she tumbled into the icy water like it never even mattered. 

The shock of the frozen water against her skin, passing through her clothes, was enough to draw the air from her lungs. She tried to force her way to the top with thrashing limbs, but between the lack of oxygen and the heavy clothes weighing her down, Esther was only pushing herself downward. 

She looked up at the sun beneath the ice, scattered and shattered like looking in the window of a church. The hole she fell into was the brightest, shining like a halo on her face. Darkness surrounded her, coming from around and underneath. 

This was the end, wasn’t it?

Ten years, just barely a decade old. Barely enough time to get the feel of life, to try and experience everything. There were so many things she hadn’t done, hadn’t observed, hadn’t enjoyed…

Esther felt tired, her fatigued body surrendering to the depths. She noticed something, probably a shadow, swimming from above as she let her eyes slip closed, too drained to keep them open. She felt arms around her, the tightest hug she had ever experienced, as the darkness led her away from the waking world. 

Then there was air. 

Esther could feel it on her face, her skin, her clothes. A pain rippled from her lungs into the rest of her body. She was on the actual ground, not the unstable ice that fell beneath her. What a relief!

There was something wrapped around her like a soft blanket, replacing the wet jacket that lay next to her. Someone was rubbing her with the blanket, almost like how her mom dried her hair with a towel after a warm bath. She leaned into it, but the hands pulled away once they noticed she was awake. 

Esther looked up out of the blanket, noticing a young face, soft and round like a snowball. His ears behind his curly hair were brown and fuzzy, almost like a cow, complete with small, budding horns. A few straggly specks of facial hair popped up on his face, but he was much too worried about Esther than he was about his own appearance. He must have been older and a bit taller than her, but then again, Esther was lying on the ground. Everything was taller than her in this position.  

Esther could only shiver as a striking cough came out of her, much too long to be healthy. Not one of necessity to breathe, but one of a simple sore throat. Yes, that must have been it. 

“D-don’t move.” The older boy’s teeth chattered, holding his hands out as if he were giving a dog a command. “I- I’m going to come back for you, I promise. I- I think my dad needs to check you out. Yeah, h-he’ll know what to do.”

Just like a ghost, he was gone. His hooven toes pattered on the ground, kicking up snow flurries until they were out of earshot and Esther was left alone in the cold once again. 

This time, it didn’t feel so cold. It felt warm, almost melting. 

Esther knew that she must have been cold, especially with how she was dunked into the coldest water she had felt. But she didn’t. That should have been worrying, but she wasn’t worried. 

In fact, she was quite satisfied. She was content with her new friend, someone who actually cared about him instead of someone he was forced to be friends with. He wasn’t the bullyish Ajax, or the pushover Cassandra, or even the goody-two-shoes Penelope. 

Maybe being away from his parents wasn’t so bad-

“ESTHER MARIE LYKOUDIS!”

Esther shot her head up as she noticed her mom coming from a distance, pulling the blanket away from her face. She stopped before her daughter, who was noticing every part of her that should have been gracefully wrinkled with age but instead was full of fillers, Botox, and a sickening frown. 

“What the hell are you doing out here?” She shouted sternly, leaving no room for argument.  “Don’t you know how worried we were?” 

Esther opened her mouth to talk. “Mom, I-” 

“Don’t start with that.” Her father said firmly, cutting in. “You knew the rules and you disobeyed them.” 

“Dad, I’m sorry I-”

“I don’t want to hear it!” He snapped, grabbing her collar as he dragged her along. “C’mon, we’re not missing our meeting because you decided to take a stupid little swim. Let’s move!” 

Esther didn’t argue as she pulled the blanket closer. She was too tired to argue anymore. 

~~~~~

Etho was so excited to get into Mindcrack. 

It was a new experience, joining a new server with new possibilities where nobody knew who he was or where he came from. It was an unspoken rule in these places not to force anyone to speak of their past unless it became an active threat.

Esther Marie Lykoudis died six months ago, apparently from an overdose on the floor of her father’s mansion. The tabloids were all over it. Her family was more in the spotlight, even more so than any other trusted official. There were no photos, no known police reports, no comments from a real coroner, nothing of any credit that anyone else would state was reliable, but still trusted. 

And Etho Sylvester Lab laughed at it. 

He was born six months ago, a change of name like the shedding of old skin. Hair dye from a bargain store, self-done in the tub of a crappy, run-down motel, his perfect hideaway. New clothes, not from a valuable name brand, but from corner shops and thrift stores downtown. The cheapest marked-down food from a grocery store, eaten straight from the can with plastic spoons instead of the usual silver. Sore legs from walking everywhere, not wanting to pay for the slow, noisy bus that took him to this new town where no one would look for him. His chest ached from the bandages used to tie his chest together, although he knew it probably wasn’t safe.

That’s when they found him, a so-called “expert” of redstone.

As much as Etho wanted to dissociate from redstone altogether, something pulled him towards it. He still dabbled in redstone products, mostly working in an amateur business where he fixed up rusted and messed-up redstone for customers. He didn’t make much, and most of his profits went towards making more copies of the flyers around town at the local library and the rest towards his unhealthy caffeine addiction, but that seemed to catch someone’s attention. 

Besides, his most valued possession at that time was an old redstone book he found while shopping for clothes that he just had to pick up. He had no car other than the citywide bus, no communication to the outside world other than the phone in his motel room, no money other than the dwindling stash he stole from his parents before he left, and no records other than the memories replaying in his head. 

When he was promised a secure place to live, guaranteed protection from danger and a chance to start over, Etho just had to take it. Opportunity only knocks once, after all. 

His first day there was amazing. He was welcomed as a new friend and not a renowned wealthy figure that shouldn’t even have been given the spotlight. He met a lot of neat people, from fellow redstoners to builders to PVPers. He had never seen such a variety in such a small area before. 

Etho didn’t know what the night would bring. He built himself a little base somewhere, so little and shoddy that most of his fellow server members wouldn’t even call it a base. He wanted to spend the first night tucked into bed, getting used to his new home as he decompressed, but something called him back to spawn where the others lived. Maybe it was hunger, maybe it was longing, maybe Etho didn’t know his own feelings as well as he thought he did. 

The first thing that caught Etho’s eye was a bar. 

One with wooden walls, thick with some Wild West theme that made it feel more like an old-timey saloon. Bovine horns on the wall, lassos hung up on hooks like jackets, pictures of horses running on the plains in rustic picture frames. It had a nice atmosphere, if the warm chandelier above was any indication. 

For such a small server, it was packed. The bar was clearly larger on the outside, and it didn’t help that much of the place was occupied by woodsy barrels or tall shelves full of liquor. Almost all the tables were full, filled with pre-existing friendships being watered with strong drinks and boisterous laughter. 

And so, with tired, aching legs, Etho sat down at the only spot he could.

There was another person there, one with a neat and tidy beard he wore like a proud medal. One with fluffy ears that flickered as he spoke and small, sharp horns like that of a bison. He was faced away towards a waiter, perfect for Etho to take the chair next to him. He was too lost in conversation to notice him sneak into the chair like a white shadow staring him down. 

As Etho listened, there was a certain cadence to his voice. One that spoke of northern winters with too many “eh”s not to be from Canada. A voice that sounded familiar, almost like an old ghost from his past. A part of Etho wondered if he had seen him before. Maybe in a dream, maybe out and about as his parents scoffed at him, maybe just someone he read about in those vintage books they had in their mansion. 

Before Etho could think too hard, the minotaur noticed him. 

“You’re new here, eh?” He smiled. “Haven’t seen you around before.” 

Etho sunk in his chair, acting coy. Interacting with new people, especially in a setting like this, was nerve-wracking. Everyone he had interacted with was either overly pompous or crass, not friendly. And if they were, they wanted something from him. To fix their redstone, mostly. 

He was quiet for much longer than the other guy at the table expected. 

The minotaur just laughed. “I get that. I was pretty nervous when I arrived, too. You’ll soon warm up to this place. Everyone else has.” 

Etho uncoiled himself, sitting up straighter to focus on his new friend. Somehow, he felt a connection, one warmer than the place they both came from. 

“There we go.” He smirked. “Say, can I interest you in a drink?” 

Up to that point, Etho never drank alcohol. Sure, he had sips of champagne on special occasions under the watchful eyes of his parents, but actual drinks were something he didn’t touch. He was too young to buy or consume them when he first left, and even if he was, his mind was so preoccupied with other things that he didn’t care to try it. 

But honestly, he didn’t care about anything anymore. This was a new starting point. It was time to get dangerous, to be rebellious, to break all the rules placed on him like chains. 

Etho nodded. “That would be nice.”

“Hey! Why don’t you serve up a beer for the little guy?” 

The man he was talking to raced back to the bar. He returned with a couple bottles and cold mugs to put it in. They each poured their beers, with Beef teaching Etho how to do it properly, an act that seemed more interesting than the drink itself. 

Etho took his first sip, instantly cringing at the taste, but swallowed it anyway. He didn’t want to seem rude, not in front of this new person in his life. 

The minotaur noticed, smirking at him like a fond memory. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”

And so, it began. Competitively, but not aggressively. 

Etho learned a lot about this guy, especially before the drinks hit him. Beef was his name. He was raised on a farm just a few miles away from the big city. He had been on the server for a few months now, knowing every face and name like they’ve known each other since forever. 

Etho hated to admit it, but he admired Beef. He loved his laugh, he loved his humor, he loved his little mannerisms that seemed barbaric to someone raised so nobly. Slouching, arms lying on the table, the quick movements of his hands and the crude sounds that only the ‘savage’ and intoxicated make. Things Etho would have been yelled at for were so ingrained in his memory that he couldn’t wipe them out completely. 

Etho told Beef about his life, and Beef told Etho about his. From what Etho heard, Beef’s life was more exciting than his. He seemed to put his life in danger for the farm he lived and worked at and Etho heard everything. 

Falling out of a hayloft as a toddler, landing on a hay bale before any permanent damage could be done. Struck by lightning while looking for a missing dog, the blast sent him tumbling onto the ground. Stung by a swarm of angry hornets after destroying their nest, causing him to fall out of a tree. Heatstroke from working out in the fields on a much too sunny day without stopping to take a break, parents finding him passed out in the fields. Getting bit by a snake while getting firewood in front of his entire family, a dry bite but his family didn’t take any chances as they doped him up with whiskey and carved into his arm like a pumpkin. 

But the story that stuck with him was the time he saved some kid from drowning.  

Beef glossed over it, but Etho couldn’t shake off how his face sank at the thought, almost as if it was a failure tearing himself up inside. He brushed it off quickly, wanting to enjoy Etho’s company as they continued drinking.

Round after round after round, so many times both of them forgot to count. 

By the end, Etho’s head was wilting like a rose on a grave, feeling about the fuzziest he’d ever been. His cheeks were completely flushed, as deeply rosy as a cherry blossom in full bloom. There was a certain warmness around him, one he embraced with open arms, like sitting near the fireplace on a cold evening. He glanced at the bottle he just finished, gazing at it with awe as he tried to put it back on the table. Instead, it tumbled out of his hands, falling onto the floor with a sharp clink but not breaking. 

Beef just looked at him, the widest smile on his face, shining in victory. He leaned back in his chair, nodding his head up like an undisputed champion. There was a bit of a red flush, but it didn’t faze him one bit. 

“You good there, buddy?” Beef asked unapologetically.

Etho smiled instinctively, feeling way too comfortable. He let out a long, comfortable laugh, throwing his head back despite the world spinning wildly. He pointed towards the bottles still standing on Beef’s side of the table, trying to count them, but with his fuzzy vision, he quickly gave up. 

“You…” A hiccup slipped into his voice. “You win… I… I feel great…” 

Etho’s head thudded against the firm table, but he didn’t stop laughing. He pounded his fist against the wood as well, the sound of it echoing in his ears. A couple more bottles rolled onto the floor as his laughter died out. 

By this point, it was getting quite late. Most of the other members of the server had already stumbled home to rest the night off. It was about time Beef and Etho did the same, if Beef could corral Etho in and stop his embarrassed blushing. 

Beef left a few diamonds on the table, an extra tip for the way his new friend was acting. He clearly overdid it and sleeping in a closed bar would not be good for his back, even if the hangover in the morning didn’t slap him in the face like a frying pan. 

Beef moved over to Etho’s side, lifting him up like a limp ferret while trying to balance himself upright. Etho didn’t move at first but was rather impressed by how strong he was. Apparently, those muscles weren’t just for show. They actually did something.

“C’mon, let’s get you outside.” Beef instructed, ignoring the tired, mostly drunken eyes gazing upon them. 

Beef grabbed Etho in his arms, guiding him towards the exit on his wobbly legs. Etho let out a small, hyenine laugh as the doors slammed shut, enchanted by this weird floaty feeling. He let his eyes wander, too entranced by the bokeh world around and the warm arm that held him up when no one else would. 

If it weren’t for Beef’s strong, semi-stable arms, Etho would have been on the pavement, giggling in blissful euphoria, vulnerable to who-knows-what. Beef was the only one strong enough to deal with, even though he totally drank more than he did. He had a beer or two before Etho arrived and didn’t really keep track afterwards. 

Of course, he had to be responsible for Etho, who was already a handful from the get-go. He was still wet behind the ears, full of energy yet to be converted into experience. 

But for now, he could deal with this. 

After a few steps, both of them remembered that they forgot where they lived. They remembered what their buildings looked like, but in the haze of drink, it was hard to tell one house from another. Besides, it was getting dark and they just wanted a place to rest. 

It wasn’t a far, drunken trot over to the closest build they could find. One that Beef had frequented many times for many ailments, however small they seemed. One that he trusted to have beds, blankets and warmth. 

Doc’s clinic.

Beef knew the grumpy old goat but barely paid him any mind. He let him fuss, rambling about how a simple splinter could lead to septic shock or something medically paranoid like that. Besides, other than dropping by to see injured friends or to collect medicine, they never really interacted. 

Doc would yell at him, sure, but he was too tired to care. He just wanted a warm bed to lay in and if anything went south, Doc could take care of them. Besides, it wasn’t so bad to have a professional doctor on the server. Or at least that’s what he called himself. 

Etho stood up straight for once as they approached the door, pulling out of Beef’s grasp and using his newfound energy to push open the door before falling right on his face. Beef rushed up to him, catching him again and leading him into the ward, one that usually had a member or two lying injured or sick in the beds but was thankfully empty.

Etho continued to wander around as Beef led him along, standing with a bit of a stumble as he noticed the walls around him. Bright walls, even brighter lights, covered in multicolored potions that sat on shelves. There was a counter, a wooden one, covered in paper with a black chair beneath it. 

Without thinking, Beef blindly stumbled into the first bed he found, landing on his stomach and getting the wind knocked out of him. Etho laughed spontaneously. 

“You’re mean…” Beef groaned, trying to adjust himself on the bed, rolling over onto his back as he took a few deep, relaxed breaths. 

As he tried to steady himself, Etho fell into Beef’s chest, causing Beef to sink deeper into the bed. Etho wasn’t unwelcome, but he was a surprise. Beef wasn’t getting up anytime soon, was he?

Etho was nestled tightly in Beef’s arms, so warm and snuggly. His clothes reeked of beer and sweat, but Etho melted into it like a sugar cube in a warm cup of tea.  He let out a big yawn, licking his lips before groaning. Etho tried to look up at Beef, but his eyes kept blinking with exhaustion, his head spinning gleefully with the widest smile on his face. 

A weird part of him thought back to the blanket, the one he took with him everywhere, the only thread to his old life that his family seemed to ignore. They let him keep the blanket, mostly because that was the only thing keeping him warm until they noticed he was deteriorating and took him to a hospital.

The blanket carried a lot of bad memories, but it also carried comfort, the best remedy to the endless struggles of childhood. The only thing from home he packed, the only thing worth washing in the rather pricy washers and dryers. It wasn’t fancy, but it didn’t have to be.

Beef chuckled, petting his head. “Not getting tired, are you?” 

Etho tried to respond but only came out in broken syllables as he held his tongue out slightly. His eyes couldn’t stay open long enough to keep looking at him. His face was flushed, completely salmon-colored at this point. 

“There we go.” Beef scoffed, holding him closer as he muttered. “Lightweight.” 

Etho just ignored him. He knew he was a winner. Beef just didn’t know that yet.

(Spoiler: Etho didn’t feel like a winner in the morning. Waking up to Doc screaming at them wasn’t fun, but the hangover felt worse than any silly insult Doc had for him. Curse Beef for dragging him through it.)

~~~~~

When Etho wasn’t up and awake by ten, Beef was starting to worry. 

Etho was a hard worker, just as stubborn and smart as the other members of the server. Nothing could stop him. Come hell or high water, Etho worked hard, slaving away on every project he did. His clothes were always covered in his work, both dirt and redstone. 

But Etho was nowhere to be found.

Every member he usually interacted with hadn’t seen him. Even Bdubs didn’t and Etho loved hanging out with Bdubs. Everyone knew Etho loved hanging out with Bdubs, a little too much. Beef theorized that Etho had a crush on him, but Etho wouldn’t admit it, not with words. 

Beef knew where he lived, so he traveled there. By the time he arrived, his legs were tired, aching and sore. He opened the door, only to see a sight that made his heart drop. 

Etho curled up in a ball, a familiar crimson quilt kicked off him in a fit of warmth. One that reminded Beef of that blanket, the one he gave away to someone who really needed it. Etho’s face was glowing red, his brow covered in sweat that leached into his silvery white hair. His eyes were tightly shut and he was curled up into a ball so small Beef thought he was nothing more than a fuzzy white pillow. 

Beef stepped closer, almost as if a wrong movement would disturb him. One loud creak caused Etho’s head to shoot up, giving out a weak whine like an animal in pain. Yet he uncurled slightly, unraveling in a certain trust he only had in Beef. Beef noticed he was still wearing his cozy and blue pjs. There was a pillow where his stomach would be, woolly and fluffy like a cloud. There was something different about his body besides the sickness, but he couldn’t put his finger on it so he paid it no mind. 

“You alright? I haven’t seen you at all today.” 

Etho gave a pained whine. “Hurts.” 

“What does?” Beef tilted his head, letting his ears flop weirdly.

“My throat.” Etho rubbed at his neck, rasping softly before finishing with a cough. “Feels like I swallowed a bucket of nails.” 

Without another sound, Beef’s eyes focused on the table, instantly finding the thermometer as if it had been used before. There was also a half-eaten bag of all-dressed chips, a plate with nothing but bread crust Etho picked off and a spilled glass of water on the carpet. 

“C’mere, let me take your temperature.” Beef said, kneeling down to Etho’s level and sticking the thermometer in his mouth. After a few seconds, it beeped. 

38.8 degrees Celsius. Feverish, but not life-threatening. 

“Alright, Etho.” Beef started. “It's not bad, but still a fever. You’ll need to stay in bed for the day.” 

Etho just whined, almost like a child in time-out. He hated not being able to work, but if he was sick, it would be better to just take it slow for the time being. 

“Eh, it won’t be so bad.” Beef reasoned. “You’ll have me. And I have something that will cheer you right up.” 

Etho noticed Beef pulling out a small vial from his apron, one he always wore with little essentials his friends needed. Tools, snacks, medicine. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to help a friend until more could be needed. It looked like syrup, dark and moving like some sort of treacle, topped with a tiny cork, which Beef popped with ease. 

“Eh, no.” Etho instantly shot it down, pulling his head back into the couch like a turtle into a shell. “I’m not taking that.” 

“What? Why not?” 

“It’s just a-” Etho’s words were cut off with a cough, stifled by his blanket. “Just a cold, Beefers. It’s not going to kill me.” 

Beef just rolled his eyes. “Well, I'm not taking a chance.” 

Etho was weary, as he should have been. Beef was raised on old frontier medicine, the type that seemed barbaric, curing injuries with alcohol and sticks and illnesses with snake oil and placebos. But then again, it was his only choice that didn’t include getting Doc involved for something so minor, something he’ll fuss about with a grimace on his face. 

And so, he decided to take it. 

“Fine.” Etho caved in, half-growling as he snatched the vial out of Beef’s hands. “I’ll drink your poison.”

“Thank you.” Beef nodded, a pleased smile on his face. 

But Etho didn’t hesitate, taking the entire thing down like a shot. After it was done, he choked it down, disgusted by the taste. 

“What-” Etho rasped through coughs. “What was that?”

“Oh, just an old recipe a family friend prepared when I was sick once.” Beef explained meekly. “Honey, lemon, mint, glistening melon juice, some extra blaze powder and fermented nether wart for good measure.”

“It’s gross.” Etho said it plainly, like a child refusing to eat a vegetable.

“Trust me, it’s a weakened recipe, perfect for sore throats and low fevers.” Beef added. “You should be thankful I didn’t put any licorice in it.” 

“But I like licorice.” Etho responded dejectedly.

“Not when it's mushed into a bunch of other random ingredients.” Beef commented. “It makes it taste worse than that.”

“Well, that’s your opinion.” Etho just rolled his eyes.  

 Beef just scoffed. “Yeah, right. At least it’s better than pneumonia.”

“Pneumonia?” Etho raised an eyebrow. “You got that once?” 

The smile on Beef’s face dropped like a faded letter on a glowing sign, rare but noticeable. 

“It’s… something I don’t talk about often.” Beef sighed, letting his shoulders sink. “Kind of a difficult subject.”

“Get that...” Etho repositioned himself slightly, putting his hand on his shoulder to look into Beef’s sad blue eyes before yawning. Man, that medicine must have been working. “Pneumonia… not fun. Chest… full… other problems… need… nap.”

“Yeah, I kind of forgot to tell you that it’ll knock you on your butt for a few hours.” Beef added, being Captain Obvious as he rubbed his short white hair. “You should try to relax for a bit. Your cough and all that should go away eventually.”

As if he were touching some holy relic, Beef pulled the blanket over Etho’s shoulders, leaving him enough room to see his handsome face before turning onto his other side, curling back up into a ball with a shiver. A small moan came from him, raspy breaths slowing into the rhythm of sleep.  

Looking on the ground, Beef noticed a blue-gray article of clothing. One small with armholes, not big enough to be a shirt. The closest Beef could compare it to was a bra, but he knew it couldn’t be it. 

A bra-looking thing? Why would Etho need tha-

Ohhhhhh.

Casually shaking off his clandestine resolution, Beef grabbed the remote and sat down, crossing his legs as he threw the binder on the arm of the couch. Even if Etho wasn’t too awake to see it, background noise always gave Beef comfort. Something that made the small base seem like home. 

He ended up putting a hockey game on, something familiar that felt like home. Flames versus Jets, two teams Beef had watched from time to time. It was comforting hearing reporters chatting about the game with some sort of enthusiasm, filling the space otherwise reserved for soft snores and the shuffling of blankets. 

~~~~~

Beef could hardly see the moon on that cloudy night. 

Smoke billowed like the clouds above them, the fire being the only light around. Beef had rigged up some sort of spit to put the meager catch of the day on, making sure it made the fish well-cooked and ready to eat. Etho prepared the sides, which consisted of berries and leaves that could give the otherwise bland fish some flavor. 

Even at night, the island was alive with the sound of crackling wood and birds in the trees. Beef held tightly to a stone sword when he thought he saw a snake slithering past. Bugs landed on his skin, hoping to eat some of the freshly killed fish, but Beef just padded them away with his hand. He prayed to every deity imaginable that none of them had some funky disease that would make this whole “being stranded” thing a lot harder than it was. 

Etho didn’t care much, just watching the fire as if he was hypnotized by it. His eyes were dropping, his tail curled on his lap as he watched the fish cook from the other side of the fire. His hand was trying to keep his head up, but so far, it wasn’t doing a good job. 

A part of Beef was falling for it as well. Tail limp, letting out a tired yawn. The only reason why he wasn’t asleep was due to the food before him. He didn’t want their new home to burn or to lose their supper. 

Still vigilant, Beef heard a sound. One sharp and squealing, almost like the pigs on his family farm. Only Beef knew they were nowhere near a farm. 

From out of nowhere, something big and brown bit at his arm, forcing Beef to pull at it. Etho could make out more of it in the firelight, snapping out of it so he could help. Sharp tusks, a large nose, a horrible sound bellowing from its lips. 

A wild hog. 

Even in their safe little clearing, they were in danger. At least three others rushed to help finish Beef off. Only this time, Etho wouldn’t let them.

Grabbing a nearby stick, Etho poked the end of it into the fire until it caught. He raised it up above the hogs, waving it around slowly to scare them away. Beef took the chance to throw the first attacker into a nearby tree, hearing as its spine cracked and feeling it stop squirming as it fell to the ground below. 

With one of the hogs dead, the others fled in retreat. They knew if they decided to mess with him again, that wouldn’t be the only casualty. 

Etho threw the stick into the fire, not knowing what else to do with it as he caught his breath. He pulled his messy, darkening hair back until he heard a pained grunt. He turned back towards Beef, who was holding his injured arm with his other hand, watching as blood poured out. His legs were shaking visibly, color draining from his face. A drop of blood fell onto a leaf underneath Beef’s hoof, a few more onto his apron. 

Etho rushed over to Beef’s side, catching him and leading him down to a sitting position on the ground before he could fall into the fire. He wanted pork chops, not roast beef. 

“You good?” Etho huffed, pulling his injured friend closer to the fire to examine the wound. 

“Yeah, talk about bringing home the bacon.” Beef huffed, joking through his pain. 

“Stay still.” Etho cautioned, kneeling next to his injured side. “I need to take care of that. Don’t need you bleeding out in a place like this.”  

“It’s not the bleeding you should be worried about.” Beef retorted, closing his eyes tiredly “You should be more worried about-”

Beef didn’t finish his thought. Instead, a bellowing scream of pain did, followed by faint panting.

“Oh, sorry.” Etho half-heartedly apologized with a small shrug, a bloody cotton ball in his hand. 

Beef just pushed through the pain. It was so like Etho to do what he did. Why be correct when you can just cause others pain? 

Still, he let Etho work, nursing the wound halfway up his upper arm. Thankfully, by some miracle, nothing seemed broken, so the hog must have missed bone when it attacked him. Either that, or Beef had a lot of meat on his bones, pun intended. 

Beef just sighed, trying to steady his breathing as he closed his eyes. He didn’t need to pass out on Etho. 

He noticed Etho getting up, hearing the small amount of dead weeds crunch under his feet. Beef saw him walk away for a moment, grabbing something from one of the bags he took from the cursed jungle, the same one they lost Bdubs, Doc, and the rest of their server in. 

Beef saw something red being pulled out, his mind clueing in that it was the damned blanket Etho always carried around everywhere. Beef had seen the blanket around plenty of times on every server the two of them were in together. Everywhere he went, that blanket managed to come with him. He remembered it from Mindcrack, where he could cuddle it and never let anyone else touch it, not even his closest friends. The same carried onto Hermitcraft, only letting select hermits cuddle within its embrace. 

Beef eyed the blanket, one familiar in the vast sea of his memory. Etho knew Beef was eyeing the blanket. Beef knew Etho knew he was eyeing the blanket in his arms

Yet, Beef didn’t even realize he was staring until Etho pointed it out. 

“My eyes are up here, Beef.” 

Etho kneeled down to the ground, draping something warm over his shoulders, comforting him like a hug. The blanket was warmed by the flames that licked at their messy, stinky clothes. 

“I know. It’s just… that blanket…” Beef curled himself closer into the blanket. “It reminds me of home.”

“Home?”

“Yeah, back on the farm.” Beef reiterated. “We used to have a blanket to keep little calves warm when it got too chilly.” 

Etho noticed Beef turning away, almost as if he was thinking about something from his memories that he couldn’t quite tell Etho about.

“Or… unfortunate souls who nearly froze to death.” 

Etho seemed to pick up on his sorrow, a thing he didn’t do often. “You seem sad about it.” 

“Well…” Beef rubbed his neck with his uninjured arm. “It’s not pleasant to talk about. There was one kid, probably about my age, maybe a couple of years younger. I saw her fall in, and if I wasn’t there to save her, she would have…”

Beef stopped himself with a small sigh. 

“I saved her, but she vanished not long after. My dad told me that she probably went home, or something like that. It didn’t help that I got sick not long after. Pneumonia, they told me. I was too out of it to remember most of it, but I never regretted what I did, not even for a minute.”

Etho stayed silent for a minute, then he let out a dry chuckle.

“That’s funny. The same thing happened to me when I was younger.”

“It did?” 

“Yeah, it did. When I was younger, I fell into a lake. Some kid saved me, but I could never thank him for saving me. It was back in the days when I was… you know…” 

A girl. 

Beef knew Etho used to be one a long time ago, sometime before they first met. He fully rejected the label sometime after he left home, part of his disguise as he broke his rich parents’ chains. He embraced being a man and the freedom it entailed, from the flattened chest from his binder to the deep voice he practiced with ease, helped along by Doc’s treatments. 

“I got sick too, but my parents brushed it off. Not until I passed out during one of their important meetings, and even then, they only got me help so their public image wouldn’t completely crash. They diagnosed me with pneumonia not long after. Spent a lot of time in the hospital because of it.”

Beef’s voice had a certain angry rumble to it, almost as if he was going to charge at those who hurt him. “That must have been rough on you.” 

“Yeah, it was more of a hassle for my parents.” Etho shrugged it off. “They kept calling me a liability for years. No wonder why I left them.” 

Beef hated when Etho talked negatively about himself. Even before his injury, he didn’t have a high view of himself. He kept calling himself a failure for the smallest mistakes, words Beef hated. If he could, he could change the way he felt about himself. 

“Hey, Etho?”

“Yeah, Beefers?”

“Do you think I… I saved you?” Beef was just starting to connect the pieces. 

Etho hummed. “It’s likely.” 

Beef would have acted more excited, but right now, it hurt to express it. His tail flickered eagerly, shaking his head with joy as he sank into the blanket with a happy bellow, almost like a deep moo.  

“If that’s true, that’s so…” Beef tried to find the right words to say in his exhilaration. “Neat. That’s neat.” 

“Yeah, it is, isn’t it?” Even with the mask on, Beef could see Etho’s wide smile. “I thought I knew you from someplace.” 

Somehow, that gave both of them comfort. Beef finally met the life he saved, and Etho finally met the one who saved his life. They were closer than they knew, and thanks to the blanket, they were now starting to realize that. 

And that had to count for something, right? 

~~~~~

A large snowstorm just passed through the server and Gem was nowhere to be found. 

No one hermit knew where she was. Not False. Not Impulse. Not Bdubs. Not even Pearl, Gem’s closest connection on the server. It was worrying, especially in the depths of the blinding snow. 

Sure, Gem had the snow in her veins, just like Beef and Etho did, but even those raised in the snow could get hypothermia. It didn’t discriminate between man and beast. Anyone unworthy of Mother Nature suffered, found half-naked in a feverish, dying haze to the pity of those that found them, if they ever were discovered before the animals got to them. 

Etho trudged through the snow, Beef not too far behind. The storm had just ended, but the danger was still there. It could come back at any moment, ready to strike like an angry viper. 

“Brrrrr.” Beef spoke in the silence, trying to inject some humor into the otherwise serious situation. “Cold out here, eh?” 

“Yeah, Gem must be freezing out here.” 

Beef just scoffed, breath forming into clouds.

Etho and Beef had plenty of time to find her if she didn’t freeze to death before then. The post office was closed, deemed too dangerous with the conditions at hand. Beef didn’t have much to do that season, besides his work on his builds and serving as a mentor to Skizz, who was ironically quite a bit older than him. 

Etho turned his head, only to find that Beef wasn’t there by his side anymore. Before he could panic, Etho’s eyes landed on Beef’s form a few feet from a small patch of evergreens, digging something brown out of the snow, a single horn sticking up out of the white sea. 

Gem’s horn. 

Etho rushed over to them, just in time to see Beef pulling her out of the snow. Frosted leaves fell away as Gem came out of the snow like a root in the ground, skin pale with cold. She didn’t move, other than a few weak shivers. 

“This isn’t good, is it?” Beef asked worriedly, features sinking.  

“No, she’s definitely hypothermic.” Etho confirmed, observing her frostbitten skin. “We need to get her inside as soon as possible.” 

Beef nodded, grabbing her and putting her on his back. Just as he did so, she started to stir. Her eyes opened, vision fuzzy.

“Etho…” She sputtered out, her voice weak and slightly slurred. “What are you doin’ here?”  

She was finally awake, thank Void.

“Gem…” Etho sighed, trying to contain his excitement. “What happened out there?”

“Storm… caught me.” Gem’s words slurred together as she tried to recall her story. “Couldn’t see. Everything was gone… just white. Made a little nest… leaves and dirt. Tried keeping warm… Didn’t… didn’t work.”

Etho turned to Beef. “C’mon, we don’t have much time.” 

Beef just nodded with a firm grunt as they started moving towards shelter. 

The three of them chatted, trying to keep Gem awake. Anything and everything at all, from her favorite animals to her plans for the season. With every passing minute, her voice became more garbled and the two non-hypothermic hermits became increasingly worried. 

As soon as they made it back to Etho’s base, Gem was completely silent. 

Etho picked up on it, trying to nudge her in an attempt to wake her up. “Gem, you with us?” 

Gem didn’t respond. Etho noticed her eyes closed, ears limp and mouth wide open. Her chest still seemed to move, almost like a tired dog that just came back from a walk. 

“Voiddamnit.” Beef cursed under his breath, “She’s out cold.” 

“Eh, no kidding.” Etho scoffed at such an unintentional pun. 

“Etho!” 

“Sorry, sorry…” Etho pulled away apologetically. “Try to get her to warm up. I’ll go get some warm clothes.” 

Opening the door, Beef rushed inside with the limp Gem, making sure they didn’t bang their horns against the doorway. As Beef laid Gem down on the floor, removing her wet clothes, Etho sprinted into his room, grabbing some extra clothes he had, even if they weren’t his. 

Pearl was one to leave her clothes at Etho’s place after her busy workdays and Etho had seen them switch clothes every so often. Pearl often shared her jacket with Gem during wet days and Gem often lent Pearl some of her clothes when they got too messy from her many jobs around the server. 

Besides, Pearl and Gem were pretty similar, right?

As Etho was gathering stuff up, he noticed the blanket. The one Beef gave him all those years ago. One that followed him everywhere he went, both on and off the server. It kept him warm, kept him safe, made him feel like home without going back to all those judging faces and sharp remarks.

Besides, it was used to save him. Why not return the favor? Beef would have wanted that.

When Etho dashed back to his living room, Beef was there, wrapping a fuzzier black blanket around Gem’s still form. When Beef noticed Etho returning with the clothes, the two of them put them on Gem, a welcome surprise to wake up to. Although it was just a simple shirt and some cottony pants, it would be enough to keep her warm before she woke up. 

After that was done, they moved Gem to the couch, a place where she would be cozy and comfortable as she awoke. Etho enveloped her up in the blanket, wrapping her up like a burrito. Whenever that was done, Beef ventured into the kitchen, searching for some hot chocolate to keep her warm. Etho was left alone in the living room, searching for any sign of movement, even if it was subtle. 

It was at that moment Gem started to stir a bit. Etho watched carefully as she opened her bright green eyes, awake and alive. She groaned as she rubbed her eyes, looking as cute and fiercely innocent as a baby tiger.

“Hey, there she is.” Etho teased. “There’s my little popsicle.”  

Gem just grunted, more annoyed than anything. She tried to sit up, but Etho gently pushed her back down with gentle hands guiding her back down to the couch. 

“You shouldn’t be up and around just yet.” Etho offered, running a hand through her hair. “Rest. Beef’s coming back soon.”

Gem curled deeper into the blanket with another groan, soft and warm. She was much too tired to argue with Etho at that moment. Maybe for the first time in their rivalry, he had the upper hand, but he didn’t use it to gloat. He used it as another stepping stone, another lesson Gem learned about having each other’s backs and maybe not walking out into snowstorms like that.

It was odd Gem liked the blanket as much as Etho did. It might have been because it smelled like him. Either that, or she was only there for the lavender detergent he last used on it when he had to clean it in a rush after spilling coffee on it. The ghost of the stain still remained, along with every other mark that made it feel used but homely. 

Maybe Gem would love to hear a story. Might make her feel better. 

“You know, that’s not the first time one of us nearly froze to death out there.” Etho started, a smile on his face. 

More life surged back into Gem’s body, her head shooting up. “It’s not?” 

“I know you’re not going to tell Gem without me.” Beef strutted into the room, holding three cups of hot chocolate, balancing them with ease.

Etho scoffed. “Yeah, right.” 

Beef stepped closer, leaning down to put the mugs on the coffee table. Beef took one of them, a plaid one with a red silhouette of a cow, and sat down in front of Gem, right on the other side of Etho. Etho took the other mugs, handing the green one to Gem while keeping the blue one. 

“Yeah, a pretty interesting one as well.” Etho responded. “One with plenty of twists and turns.” 

“Hey, are you telling this story or am I, eh?” 

“Eh, I guess it started a while ago, about a few years before you were born…”

~~~~~

Beef trudged back to the farm with frozen legs. He wrapped himself with his arms, trying to keep what remaining warmth he had. Curse him for wearing a cold, damp jacket back to his parents’ house. 

He should have been busy. He should have fed the chickens. He should have tended to the sheep. He could have made sure none of the donkeys needed more oats in their troughs or the pigs with their slop.  

But no. Instead, he had to go play hero. 

He knew he was going to get yelled at for not doing his chores. His parents were lovely people. They cared for him like any other parent. However, they valued hard work above all. If Beef didn’t do his job, they would be mad, even madder than if he tried his best but didn’t succeed in something. 

Oh, well. 

Maybe they would have mercy. Maybe they would be forgiving. Maybe they would-

“Beef!” 

Crap.

“Why aren’t you-”

And then the father noticed everything. 

Beef’s wet hair was sticking to his face like a dog that just swam in the creek. The chattering lips, tinged with blue. A pitiful, sad face with eyes to match staring back at him, covered in tears. From how Beef was tugging onto his clothes, the father couldn’t help but worry. 

“Dad, there’s someone at the lake!” Beef spat out. “She fell in and now she’s acting all weird! I’m not sure what to do. You have to help me.” 

The father didn’t think twice as he ran over to the lake, Beef following behind. When they both got to the lake, all that was left in the spot the girl lay was half-melted snow. Beef padded over to it, staring as if whoever he saved was going to pop back up in the same spot. There were a few footsteps in the snow, along with the snowless road nearby. More snow was just starting to fall, a few flakes falling onto Beef’s head.

“She’s gone…” Beef shivered, curling closer towards himself in his puffy wet coat as he turned around to his father. He sniffled sadly, not knowing what to do. 

“Awwww, poor thing.” The father empathized. “Her parents probably came to take her home. That or she walked home. Wherever she is, she’s probably safe.” 

“I really wanted to be her friend.” Beef said through the chattering of teeth.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it, eh.” Beef’s father kneeled down to his level, comforting him. “I’m sure she’s fine wherever she is, thanks to your help.” 

Beef let out a little sneeze into his red coat, one as small as a lamb’s bleat. He shivered, wiping his nose and tears with his sleeve like it would do him any good. 

“C’mon, let’s get you home before you catch a cold.” His father offered with a smile, leading him away from the lake and back towards home. “Your mom’s probably making you a warm, hearty breakfast right now.” 

For the first time in his life, Beef felt too unbelievably full of emotions to eat.