Claus survives (barely, just barely) but he survives and remembers more than he wants to.
In which Claus lives, but not the one Lucas knows. Yet it's all he has, and by God, he is going to love all that he has.
xxx
Lucas almost couldn't believe his eyes.
After the world was reset, they spent most of their time repairing what was damaged. Relations, buildings, hearts, trying to mend everything that had been broken. It wasn't easy (it was never easy) but there was no way they'd let things stay broken forever.
Kumatora stayed (she had nowhere else to go). Duster moved to Tazmily, felt that goodbyes were too detached and bitter. Flint tries again, given the second chance, he's getting better, slowly and slowly.
Lucas doesn't cry as much anymore (there's no tears left to lose).
Everything had been mild, calming, as it should have been. The first week was fine, everyone basking in the victory and freedom.
Lucas wouldn't forget though. As much as he scrubbed his hands viciously in the washroom, almost to the point where his skin grew dry and cracked, he couldn't rid of the memory of coppery blood on his palms. Blood of his brother, when he hobbled over, tattered, barely breathing, mechanical heartbeat ringing in his ears. When he embraced Lucas on final time. When he closed his eyes one final time.
Lucas could not erase that pain even if he tried. No amount of PK healing would cease the hole in his chest.
Then one day Flint barges into their house, frantic and panicked, as he looks Lucas straight in the eyes and says "It's Claus."
The reaction is immediate. Lucas's entire body freezes, nerves buzzing, adrenaline pumping, every fiber of his being set aflame. His eyes grow misty, yet he forces himself to stand up.
"Really?"
xxx
Claus is rescued from the forest. He's beaten, bruised and wounded, but it's him. Unmistakable orange hair, still adorning the robes given to him by the Pigmask Army.
He's part machine, one side of his body clearly made of metal, extending from the left half of his face all the way down his right arm entirely. Half his chest is littered with scars. He's in bad condition, but when Lucas leans in he can hear the ticking, quiet rhythmic heartbeat.
Claus is still alive.
He's asleep, thankfully. They haul him out from the forest where Flint found him, and into their house. Lucas doesn't hesitate to give up his mattress in order to keep Claus on something comfortable while he recovers.
They treat his wounds (as much as they can, anyway) and Lucas sits by the bed, waiting for him to wake up. Kumatora visits, sits with Lucas as well before becoming restless and eventually leaving.
"You've got the patience of a Saint," she tells him.
"I miss him," Lucas answers simply. Kumatora nods.
On the third morning Claus finally starts to stir. His fingers move first. They flex and grip onto the bed sheets below him, then his eyes snap open almost violently. He's missing his other eye completely, an empty socket where it should have been.
He opens his mouth, and makes a noise not quite human.
"Claus?" Lucas is in the room instantly, Flint following behind him. The cyborg doesn't turn his head, instead, he cries out again. A noise akin to pain rising from his throat.
"Claus, is that you?" Lucas says gently. He approaches slowly, despite Flint's warnings from behind.
"You address me as Commander," Claus replies this time, his voice laced with static. He's still not looking at Lucas, and Lucas's heart starts to sink.
"C-Claus, are you okay?" Lucas asks shakily.
Claus finally turns his head this time. He still has those cerulean irises, those fiery orange locks. His lashes, his lips, it's Claus. It couldn't be anyone else but Claus.
But when he speaks again, Lucas realizes it couldn't be Claus. Not ever, not in a million years.
"You address me as Commander," Claus repeats autonomously, like an order.
Lucas cries.
