Work Text:
Alden’s shout rips out of him before he can think, echoing across the open water like it’s trying to reach someone miles away.
“Ayres? Ayres! Shit—come on, answer me.”
The boat rocks gently beneath him, but the motion only makes the panic worse. There’s nowhere to go out here. No islands. No shoreline. Just the endless ocean and the soft hum of the Nether portal anchored to the stern.
And Ayres is nowhere on deck.
Alden’s breath stutters as he rushes across the planks, checking every corner even though he already knows what he’ll find. The bed is untouched. The furnace is cold. The crafting table is empty.
Then he sees it.
The diamond gear sits neatly arranged beside the mast—polished, aligned, almost ceremonial. And on top of the chestplate lies Ayres’s little book, the one it always fidgets with when it’s nervous.
Alden snatches it up, flipping it open with shaking hands.
I didn’t want to wake you. I’ll be quick. Thank you for letting me stay.
His stomach twists. “No. No, no, no…”
He presses the book to his forehead, eyes squeezed shut. Out here, “I’ll be quick” could mean anything. And “thank you for letting me stay” sounds too much like a goodbye.
He spins toward the portal, heart hammering. The obsidian frame crackles with purple light, swirling and alive. The only place Ayres could have gone.
“Ayres!” he shouts again, voice cracking. “Please—just answer me!”
The portal hums, low and ominous.
Alden paces in front of it, running a hand through his hair. “Why would you go in alone? Why would you leave your armor? Why would you—”
A sudden shift in the portal’s glow cuts him off.
A soft fwip of displaced air.
Then—
Ayres stumbles out of the portal, arms overflowing with quartz, glowstone shards, and a warped fungus dangling precariously from its fingers. Its hair is singed at the ends, its sleeves scorched, soot smudged across its cheeks.
It looks exhausted… but proud.
Then it sees Alden’s face.
It freezes.
“…Alden?” it says quietly. “Did something happen?”
Alden just stares at it, relief hitting him so hard he has to grab the railing to steady himself.
“You—” His voice breaks. He tries again. “You scared the hell out of me.”
Ayres blinks, confused. “I left you a note.”
“That wasn’t a note,” Alden says, stepping toward it. “It sounded like you were leaving. Like you weren’t coming back.”
Ayres’s ears flatten, posture shrinking. “I was getting quartz. For the lanterns. You said the deck was too dark.”
Alden exhales shakily, closing the distance between them. “I thought you were gone.”
Ayres looks down at the quartz in its arms, suddenly unsure. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”
Alden gently takes the materials from its hands, setting them aside. Then he cups Ayres’s face, checking it over—singed hair, trembling fingers, soot-smudged cheeks.
“You went into the Nether alone,” he murmurs. “Without armor.”
Ayres nods, sheepish. “I didn’t want to wake you.”
Alden pulls it into a tight, grounding embrace, one hand cradling the back of its head.
“Next time,” he says into its hair, voice low and shaking, “wake me up. I don’t care what time it is.”
Ayres melts into him instantly, arms slipping around his waist, forehead pressing into his chest like it had been waiting for this exact moment to breathe again.
“…Okay,” it whispers.
The portal hums behind them. The ocean sways beneath them. And Alden finally—finally—lets himself breathe.