Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

His own proposition went round and round in his head, accompanied by a mixture of emotions he didn't quite understand that felt mostly like regret.

"Games of death are all well and good, but the secret ingredient in misery, is love."

"You taught us that."

"I know."

It felt foolish now that he was back here, away from the Watchers world and back with the players, to have suggested such a thing so giddily. Because he knew of all the player things he had put himself above, love had never quite been one of them. At least, not entirely.

He sat completely alone in a clearing full of people. They were all slumped on the ground, draped in such an oddly grotesque form of perfection. A flawless circle that wasn’t natural.

But nothing about this place was natural. The grass licking at people’s unresponsive faces that wound between the trees, just a little too green, just a little too perfect. It wasn’t thrown together in a series of sequential coincidences, the way natural forests formed. It was crafted, each blade of grass handpicked and designed.

He held on to the knowledge of how this place was created, before it slipped away, before all he could notice was its vague uncanniness. He held on to his will while he still had it. The hand he had in forging this place, in modelling the chaos and the torture that was about to unfold. Only a few seasons ago, he had detested that side of himself, pushed it away, anticipated it slipping between his fingers and fading into an intangible mess of feelings somewhere deep inside him. But not today. He had grown so dependent on knowing, understanding, controlling.

And the idea that all the control he had worked so hard to secure was about to slip away, it terrified him. He didn’t want to be a player. Not this season. Not with so much still left up to chance, and with less will than ever. Even the other Watchers, with all their ways of making him just another pawn whilst he was in the games, didn’t trust him to look at the pairings. He didn’t get a choice this time. He didn’t get to change fate.

But god how he wanted to.

He felt the drowsiness wash over him and tried desperately to recall what his instructions had been. Oh dear, why did he let his mind wander when it was so crucial to be paying attention right now?

Fuck, what was he supposed to do?

It came to him in a sudden epiphany that almost shocked him out of falling unconscious. He grabbed at the grass in front of him, scrambling for the little device that would activate the whole thing. Put on the borders, the lives. Just not the soulmates. Not yet.

He would have to do that later. And he would, without even really noticing that he was doing it. He’d just have no idea why.

He pushed the series of buttons that was suddenly very clear in his mind from when the other Watchers had explained it to him. It was okay. He had done it. He could give in to the overwhelming drowsiness now. Could let himself slip away.

But he didn’t want to.

The air was filled with the gentle hum of a breeze and buzzing of insects, the quiet mutterings of animals far off and the rush of a distant river. The undisturbed harmony of the natural world was most instantly broken by groans and grunts of players as they slowly came back to themselves.

But not quite themselves.

They all looked up and around, taking in their surroundings about as much as the idle bugs. They narrowed in on each other’s faces, assessing the situation like they were all so used to by now. Almost all eyes fell routinely to Grian, standing at what could most certainly be described as the head of the circle, back against a tree, pressing buttons on a small device that kept making ticking and beeping noises.

They expected an explanation.

Of course, their eyes darted around in evaluation, figuring out the faces of those around them. Those who had been their friends. Those who had been their enemies. Silently questioning if those relationships stood now, while knowing they didn’t. They couldn’t.

They all mentally noted their clothes, a surprisingly instinctual reaction when you don't remember getting dressed, and the packs slung over all their shoulders that they'd never put there. They were all very aware of the unfamiliarity of the forest they stood in, of the bright green light surrounding everyone that eased them slowly into a false sense of security, of Grian’s uncharacteristic silence.

These were new games. And the old promises and threats didn’t, couldn’t apply here.

But there was a certain comfort in the faces of those that had meant love, family or just a little peace from the outside world. The faces that provided a comforting safety net of familiarity.

Scar’s reliable confusion reflected in his furrowed brow, Joel’s vaguely scary grin already set in place, Jimmy’s concerning excitement that didn’t quite match everyone else’s morose anticipation. But then again, he was never around long enough to see the ugly parts.

Though they stood, they all stayed in their designated place in the circle, trained as they were to wait for instructions. A watchful eye might have noticed Grian’s little relieved smile that they didn’t all immediately rush off while he fixed the settings.

Finally, he looked up, with a practised smile that set off several groans around the circle.

“Oh god,” Scott muttered and Cleo exhaled a small laugh that made Martyn beside her frown.

“Welcome,” Grian said, spreading his arms so that everyone glanced around like there was something to see other than a random forest, “To double life,”

There were several eye rolls but Jimmy gave a cheer and Pearl joined in. Not particularly because she was excited, the way Tim was. It just seemed like too dramatic an announcement to put met with nothing but dread. Even if that were only what it deserved.

“A brand-new life game,” he continued as if no-one had said anything, “Where the number of lives you have is, as you know, indicated by your colour.”

There was a quick glance around the circle, as if there might suddenly be that glow of red light they were all so used to watching for. But there was only the hopeful promise of green, of peace.

“Three for green, two for yellow and if you’re on your last life, you turn red. And just like the other games, when your red, you then become hostile to the other players.” he rushed through that part of the explanation, and everyone figured it was mandatory, or more for the Watchers than for them because they knew far too well how the system worked. How the red curse worked, how it felt.

Still, only three lives was interesting to most. Like third life.

“And if you lose your third life…” he paused and everyone shuffled, a little uncomfortable, “You’re out,” he sufficed. Leave it to the Watchers to care about that more than the fact that they were dead. Well, essentially. Until the next game rolled around and they had to be dragged up again just to be thrown back into their grave.

“Oh, go on,” Martyn heckled, “We get all that. What’s the twist?”

The smirk that crossed Grian’s face at that put everyone on edge.

“The twist,” he paused, for dramatic effect like the prick he was, “Is that you are soulbound to another player.”

He let that sink in for a moment, everyone frowning, trying to figure out how that would work as they scanned the circle, like someone might leap forth and announce themselves as soulbound to them.

“If one of you is in pain, you'll both feel that pain,” Grian elaborated at last, “You share health.”

There was a lot of confused murmuring at that but Grian decided he didn’t care. They’d figure it out once it got going.

“And if you die,” he added the best bit with a smile that could almost be described as smug, “You both die.”

There was an eruption of noise as people grappled with the implications of that. You didn’t just have to look after your own safety, but that of someone else. Forced teammates, forged by fate.

“So let’s hope,” Grian said with a chuckle, “That you get a good soulmate.”

There was a ripple of nervous laughter as eyes darted around the circle, trying not to land on anyone but inevitably doing so.

There were too many grievances, broken alliances, friendships, relationships for the possibility of a fated soulmate to be exciting. Everyone was already compiling a list of people they wanted, and a list of people they didn’t and wondering what the hell they were supposed to do if they ended up with someone from the latter list.

“Same rules as usual apply, you guys know them. And! same as last series,” Grian grinned and everyone else braced for another reveal. Most people comfortably thought he was about to announce the return of the bogeyman, “Only one enchanting table. But this season…it’s in the deep dark.”

There was an eruption of noise once more, both concern and outrage and just resigned groans. Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?

“So,” Grian called everyone’s attention back, “Let’s get into it.”

He sighed, letting go of his Watcher pretence just a little. And everyone relaxed, just a little. He chucked the device into his pocket and straightened up.

“Hello!”

And in a moment, Grian was one of them, just another player. A ripple of hello’s chorused through the crowd, all of them actually acknowledging each other for the first time. Then they all just stood, watching each other warily, unsure where they were supposed to go from here. Were they soulbound already? Should they be trying to figure out who their soulmate was? How were they even supposed to do that?

“Alright,” Martyn muttered finally as Joel turned and began walking in the opposite direction. Grian didn’t stop him, everyone took that as an invitation to leave and there was a slightly less resounding chorus of goodbyes drifting through the trees as everyone headed off in their own directions.

“Can somebody explain this to me again?” Scar called.

Nobody did.

Scott was already annoyed and it had hardly been five minutes. He’d run away from the opening circle as quick as he could. He’d been in enough of these series to know being around people was never a good thing unless you were allies. And allies weren’t going to be a thing this season because he had a soulmate and had to work with them.

Personally, he was hoping for Cleo or Pearl, they’d worked together nicely last season. Really, he’d like to be paired with Jimmy. Proof that they were soulmates or whatever stupid idea he had. He knew Jimmy wouldn’t want that though. And he wasn’t sure he could handle being so close to his ex-husband and yet still so far from actually being happy again. No, Pearl or Cleo was a much safer bet.

Anyway, he wasn’t thinking about that right now. He needed to be alone and get set up and then he could go find his soulmate.

Unfortunately, Joel was following him.

Which was the main reason for Scott’s mood.

“Aw is that Jimmy I hear,” he was complaining though Scott didn’t understand why he hated him when they were, as far as he could tell, basically the same person. Although Scott loved one and hated the other so he supposed he was being hypocritical. “Go away from me,” Joel continued, still making through the forest in the exact same direction as Scott, so close he could hear his petty mutterings at Jimmy who insisted oddly apologetically that he was going away from Joel. Scott supposed people were still remembering his crazed red mania and a little scared of him. Well, he’d killed Joel and all his madness last series and he refused to be afraid of him.

“Joel,” Scott called, growing steadily pissed off now, “Start going a different way, this is my way.”

“Oh,” Joel scoffed, Scott’s hatred very much mutual, “I’m going straight away!”

“So am I going straight!” Scott babbled angrily, “I’m ahead of you! I’m first, go away!”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Joel muttered, a little resigned. Clearly, in his slightly calmer green state, deciding it wasn’t worth the effort, “I’ll go this way.”

He made off in another direction and Scott took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down a bit. He couldn’t lose it now.

As the day went on, people slowly gathered resources, wood and food mostly, although having learnt their lesson in previous seasons, were cautious not to kill too many animals. Everyone naturally drifted to mines or caves, in search of the security of shields and armour.

Bdubs sat in the grass, waiting by a furnace as Impulse ventured into the mine, Etho close behind him. They’d designated him to kill the monsters before the rest of them followed. Scar stood by the entrance, watching them warily. Bdubs thought he gave the distinct energy of a vulture waiting to swoop as soon as something went wrong although he doubted that was actually his intention.

Meanwhile, Bdubs casually stole Impulse’s iron from his furnace as it finished smelting, feeling a little self-conscious about the shield lying at his feet that Impulse had been kind enough to give to him. Oh well. These games were anarchy. There was no time for niceties. It wasn’t his fault Impulse didn’t know that.

They had all felt the strange stab of pain a few minutes ago as the soul binding had taken place. And now everyone's faint green light had condensed into a strand, a rope of sorts, spiralling out from their hearts. They'd all shrieked when they'd first seen it and Bdubs had had to yell over Etho and Scar's confusion to explain this was probably the soulbind, quite literally bound on the other end to their soulmate. Scar had immediately started fidgeting with his and asking Bdubs if his soulmate could feel that. He didn't have the answer to that, he wasn't even sure if his original statement had been correct but that was his guess. It had been annoying him at first, always catching the corner of his eye. But he was almost used to it already, the faint glow easy to ignore after a couple seasons of it. It was a little odd but strangely reassuring to know that somewhere out there, someone was all his.

His soulmate however, whoever they were, was in quite a bit of pain, constant searing pain in their arms and legs. He wondered if they were okay. He really should go and find them; he just didn’t know how to go about doing it.

He looked up as Scar tentatively made his way into the mine and picked up his shield to follow.

“That was incredible Impulse!” he could hear Etho saying excitedly.

There was more chatter and he ventured into the mine too, a little creeped by the darkness of it.

“He survived,” Etho grinned like it wasn’t obvious.

“He survived?” Bdubs exclaimed, like it wasn’t obvious.

There was much commending of Impulse who had been quite scathed by arrows but seemed remarkably unharmed all things considered and him and Etho immediately got to mining. But Bdubs shared a look with Scar that could barely be seen in the dusty darkness. Neither of them liked caves. They didn’t really want to be here. Shield or no shield, a creeper around the corner could kill you and absolutely ruin your day.

They eventually made their excuses and got out of there, making their way in the much safer above ground toward a corner of the map. Bdubs wasn’t actually sure where they were going until Scar, about halfway to the border, actually began to explain his thinking.

“Okay, alright Bdubs, strategy.”

Bdubs nodded enthusiastically, “Yes!”

“Who wants to go through caves Bdubs?” Scar explained, all overexaggerated in his way, pushing a vine out of his way with his cane and hurrying to catch Bdubs who had stopped to pick roses, “No-one wants to go through caves because they’re horrible and scary.”

He leaned against a tree, catching his breath as Bdubs picked flowers. They’d been walking for what felt like an hour at this point.

“So, you know what the big brain move is, the galaxy brain move is?”

“What?” Bdubs asked breathlessly as he set off again, desperate to get past Scar’s preamble to the actual idea.

“To find an exposed mountain,” Scar proclaimed, pushing himself excitedly off the tree and hurrying to meet Bdubs, “With all the iron and coal you could ever dream of.”

He paused, waiting for Bdubs reaction with a hesitant smile.

“Oh, you are- you’re wise!” Bdubs exclaimed. Scar grinned. They reached the edge of the forest and were most immediately greeted by a towering cliff side falling into a ravine with a river running at the bottom. Bdubs laughed a little, ecstatic as he pointed down at the cliff, “Like so, like so!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,” Scar gushed, “Oh this might actually work.”

But Bdubs was only half listening, having spotted Martyn across the way. He couldn’t quite see from the distance but he was running full speed away from a pillager outpost so Bdubs doubted he was particularly safe.

“No, I’m looking for a mount-” Scar was cut off by a buckling pain in his legs that shot up through his back, “Oh gosh! Somebody's in pain,” he exclaimed, probably a little excessively for the amount of pain it actually was. He already felt fine again, if a little shaky.

“Martyn in thy little wood is over there!” Bdubs practically shouted, turning to Scar who was scrabbling around with his things, “And he’s got an arrow in his foot!”

The implication was completely missed by Scar who frowned, looking up from his things, “Should we go kill him?”

Bdubs laughed, which only deepened Scar’s frown.

“Scar, this is a different game,” he said, with a tone of insistence that just sounded like denial to Scar.

“Well…” He shrugged, making his way along the edge of the ravine, glancing over as far as he could.

It was a different season but at the end of the day, it was the same game.

“He’s attached to you!” Bdubs stressed, “If you kill him, he- you’re dead!”

“I’m attached to him?” Scar asked faintly, turning around to check Bdubs was following him, which he was, “How do we know this?”

He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He’d never really met Martyn except as an accessory to the murder of his horse and the annoyingly belligerent sidekick of the king he was trying to overthrow. It wasn’t exactly the foundations of a happy marriage.

“Yeah! Well, potentially!” Bdubs continued, still stressing every syllable, “I see an arrow in his foot, you said you were just in pain.”

The pain hadn’t felt like an arrow to the foot but Scar wasn’t really sure what soulmate pain felt like and at that point, he also spotted Martyn. Across on the other side of the ravine, running full speed from an absolute hoard of very angry looking pillagers holding crossbows.

“Oh my gosh, dude!” he yelled, holding his weapon at the ready like a wooden axe would make a difference from the other side of the ravine, “Look at all of the, the, the pillagers!”

“Yeah, are ya hurtin?” Bdubs yelled back, “It’s him!”

Scar felt another burst of pain, this time a thudding pain in his head and a stinging face.

“I think I am!” He cried, making his way as fast as he could over to where Martyn on the other side was making his way haphazardly down the cliff, half throwing himself toward a stream of water that would carry him somewhat safely into the river.

“Little woodsy come down!” he yelled, panicking more than a little as he teetered on the edge of the cliff. His heart was going a hundred miles an hour as he watched Martyn, bouncing with energy but unable to do anything to help. If Bdubs was right and he was paired with Martyn, his death would mean Scar’s death and he would never live it down with anyone on the server if he died first, “Quick we’ll save you!”

Martyn was panicking. Things weren’t meant to get this hairy. It was supposed to be a quick look around the pillager outpost and then leave. Not being chased by a hoard of angry pillagers losing their shit and firing arrows at him non-stop. His poor soulmate.

And he refused to be the first to die.

He threw himself down the cliff, flinching at every hard landing and bruise that would undoubtably be forming for his soulmate as well. He didn’t care right now, he couldn’t. As long as he made it out of this alive. He threw himself forward into a waterfall midway down and was immediately swept away, the gurgle of water rushing in his ears as he tumbled and turned. He clutched his things and curled into a defensive position as best he could while flailing horribly on instinct.

Then one massive splash and he was thrown into the river. He let himself sink just a little before kicking and pushing for the surface, doggy paddling helplessly as he panted for breath. The river’s current was a lot gentler than the waterfall so he could catch his breath. But he didn't have time. The pillagers were still hot on his tail. He burst forward, swimming as best he could against the current, making for the bank. He crawled onto the bank and sat there for a minute, watching the one pillager that had survived the fall into the water struggle to swim toward him. He took a deep breath and shouted. He thought he’d seen Scar and someone else up on the other hill. Maybe if he could get their attention they could help him. The pillager picked up speed and in a panic he grabbed his horn.

It sounded loudly in his ear and he heard Bdubs’ voice calling, “Hi, hi!” and began to climb up the hill. He’d be able to deal with the pillagers from there.

“Hello, hello!” he called back, making his way up the mountain as best he could toward them as they climbed down to meet him.

He glanced down at the pillager, no longer staring daggers at him, probably too focused on trying not to drown. Bdubs and Scar looked slightly concerned but were also smiling through their creased eyebrows, ready to make fun of him the moment they made sure he was okay. Martyn grinned to himself a little because he really had missed the green days.

Scott was having a surprisingly good day. It had really gone uphill. He thought bitterly to himself that was because everything got better once Joel left and laughed at his own half sarcastic cruelty.

He’d found himself a cave and some iron and was feeling much better for a shield, especially since whoever his soulmate was kept randomly being in horrible searing pain for extended periods of time.

Now he’d found a skeleton spawner, which wasn’t what he’d been looking for, and it didn’t have any chests, but it was still nice enough. Plus, there was a frog in it and he was somewhat attached to it as he skirted around the skeleton spawner, trying to get it out.

Things were going well.

That was, until he got shot in the head.

It hurt like hell and it didn’t help that there was another shoot of pain from something completely unrelated, the doing of his soulmate. He hardly really reacted to the pain at this point. He was oddly used to it. He just hurriedly climbed out of the skeleton spawner and sat on the grass, taking deep breaths and trying to compose himself. That was when he noticed Ren in the distance and grinned, somewhat forgetting about his injury as he got up to greet the other man, running toward him.

“Who’s struggling over here?” Ren called as he approached, coming to a stop in front of Scott. He wasn’t even out of breath which Scott thought was pretty impressive given the distance he’d just seen him run. Maybe it was a soulmate thing, because Scott had felt way too out of breath for doing not much all day.

“Hello!” He called excitedly, somewhat just interested to talk to another person that wasn’t Joel.

Ren grinned, and replied without missing a beat, “Hey Scott, what’s happening baby.”

“I found a spawner,” Scott said neatly, as if the frog wasn’t what he’d really found.

“Um, I don’t mean to alarm you,” Ren said carefully, clearly distracted from what Scott was saying, “But you have an arrow in your skull.”

“Yeah, I found a skeleton spawner like right here,” Scott sighed, gesturing to the spawner before carefully beginning to tug at the arrow as Ren went to check it out. He didn’t want to remove it badly and make it even worse. His soulmate was still in their own pain that was starting to really annoy him and he considered leaving the arrow in just to annoy them. But he was always too sensible for such things and carefully removed it. It didn’t hurt as much as it should have. That was just another thing that was always uncanny about the games. Somewhere in his mind, Scott knew an arrow to the head should have killed him. But he’d taken an arrow to the head a dozen times and been fine within an hour.

“Do we want to do the test Ren?” Scott asked warily as he sat down to haphazardly bandage his head with a torn off sleeve of his shirt. His soulmate wasn’t eating and his stomach growled angrily at him so he sighed and pulled out what little food he had also.

“I feel like I need to punch you to see if it’s-” he waved his watermelon as a way of finishing that sentence and Ren shrugged.

“We can.”

But he sounded a little scared.

“Okay, lemme do it,” Scott said, standing and beckoning Ren over.

“Go on,” Ren nodded.

Scott didn’t punch him too hard. Enough to hurt, enough for his soulmate to feel it. But not enough to actually hurt Ren. He raised an eyebrow expectantly at Scott who shook his head.

“Okay, we’re not linked.”

“We’re not linked?” Ren asked, sounding a little disappointed. Scott felt a little bad for just being relieved that it was narrowed down, if only by one person.

“I’m sorry to whoever I just hit, out in the world as well,” he laughed and Ren joined in though he groaned midway through at another flash of pain.

“Oh, you're just in more pain,” Scott laughed, taking note of the way Ren clutched his stomach, wincing still.

“I'm in more pain!” Ren exclaimed almost in unison.

“Then we’re definitely not linked,” Scott laughed before thinking about Ren’s disappointment contrasting his own apathy and adding, “Sadly.”

“Dude, there’s a frog over there!” Ren cried, not seeming to notice Scott’s addition as he ran over to it, “What happens if you kill a frog?”

“Nothing!” Scott protested as Ren ignored him and hit it.

“No, don’t murder him,” Scott sighed, somewhat resigned to the fact that he couldn’t protect a frog.

“Do you get anything?” Ren asked, still sounding way too curious. “Hold on,” he hit it again and Scott hurried over.

“Not a single thing,” he stressed, trying not to lose his cool.

But then Ren had his axe out and any shot at nonchalance went out the window.

“No, don’t...”

He swiped at it with the axe and Scott watched it stop twitching.

“No!” Scott screamed, staring at Ren with a hardly contained anger. This wasn’t good. He didn’t want to get angry. He couldn’t. If he did, he’d lose his cool and he couldn’t do that now.

“WHAT?!” he heard Grian’s voice scream behind him and he couldn’t help but laugh a bit. Because Grian was very capable of being angry without losing his edge. His edge was his anger. And he would rip into Ren the way Scott couldn’t.

“Did I just- I just witnessed a CRIME!” Grian yelled and Scott turned to see him standing with a sword and an expression equally angry as it was concerned.

“You just witnessed a- he murdered a frog Grian!” Scott yelled, desperate to get across his point, to make Grian do his anger for him.

“Don’t look at me,” Ren cried, hanging his head, “I thought it might drop something,” he justified as Scott began to badly explain the situation in a hardly controlled rant.

“Please tell me,” Grian spat, “After what I’ve just witnessed I,” he punched Ren and Scott laughed as he stumbled backward but Grian didn't seem hurt, “Oh, thank goodness,” Grian said, monotone but with venom on his tongue.

Scott took a deep breath, Grian’s bitterness helping his spiral a little. “Okay, I’m gonna need to try, Grian.” He hit him about as hard as he hit Ren and retrospectively wished he’d hit Ren harder.

He wasn't hurt.

“Nope,” he shook his head with a  sigh, “Not me either.”

Impulse hadn’t wanted to go to the pillager outpost. He knew it was a bad idea. It couldn’t possibly end well. He had a shield and that was about it. No food, no resources. There was a pretty high probability of him dying over there.

But Etho was so convincing and there were already others going for the outpost and surely all of them could take them on.

And if worst came to, they could always just take the others stuff after they died and get the hell out of there.

So now, here he was, with Etho on the other side of the ravine, in the corner of the world, fighting pillagers. It really wasn’t how he’d been expecting today to go.

Scar and Bdubs had met up with Martyn and clearly also had the bright idea of coming over here completely unequipped. Impulse could only hope none of them were soulmates so they didn’t take get hurt and die twice as fast. Although he kept being in sudden horrible bursts of pain while they were fighting that had nothing to do with him and he was starting to get worried.

He spotted Bdubs a little way away from the outpost with a furnace and hurried over with his own. He had the right idea.

“I need food man,” he sighed as he set down his furnace.

“Yeah," Bdubs said way too many times, “It’s bad out here.”

Impulse turned to the outpost trying to see if Martyn was still fighting pillagers. He had a feeling they were soulmates. “Somebody's in a lot of pain,” he complained light-heartedly, turning back to Bdubs who wasn’t really paying him any attention.

“What’s up with your face?”

Bdubs’ face was not great to look at. All disfigured, missing teeth and swollen eye. It was as though he’d come off worse in a fight and Impulse was slightly concerned what had happened already to make it that bad.

“My face?” Bdubs asked, as if there was nothing wrong.

“Did you run into the wall?” Impulse teased.

Bdubs gave him a look, saying nothing and Impulse just grinned.

“Yes,” he said finally and very quietly.

“Ouch,” Impulse muttered.

“Uh, guys,” Scar said, hurrying up to them and drawing both their attention away from the other.

“Yes?” Bdubs asked as though they were having polite conversation while Impulse screamed, “Scar!” at the hoard of pillagers he’d brought over and Scar muttered to Bdubs, asking for a furnace.

“You brought friends!” Impulse cried, scrambling for his sword.

Scar sighed and reluctantly helped him kill them. There weren’t as many as Impulse thought but it still reinforced the idea that they absolutely weren’t safe here and put him on edge as Bdubs gave Scar food.

They went back to cooking what food they could but it wasn’t long before they were being shot at again.

Impulse managed to block most shots but still felt like there was an arrow in his heart. Was that real? Was it soulbound pain?

“We shouldn’t cook here!” Bdubs yelled as Impulse screamed and closed the furnace quickly to put his shield up.

“This is a really-” Scar laughed as he went back to the furnace before jogging away yelling, “Oh my gosh!”

There was much kerfuffle and shots fired as they tried desperately to grab the furnaces and run. There was still some argument as to the lack of food between the three of them but they decided that it was too unsafe. They would have to go cook somewhere else.

Back on the other side of the ravine, and in a little more safety, Scar helped Bdubs pull an arrow out of his neck as Impulse cooked the remainder of the mutton to help him heal. Once they all felt better and the sun had fully set, they began mining exposed iron and coal in the mountainside, gearing up becoming an increasing concern as monsters spawned around them. Bdubs was grumbling about the night and disappeared around the corner. Impulse found a vein of iron. He caught sight of Scar’s allay, flying slowly out of sight.

“You’re allay is taking off on you,” he warned Scar, as he began to mine.

“I know, I know,” Scar sighed, sounding resigned already. Impulse couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him. Allays were a nightmare and he just knew he’d be chasing it all night.

Suddenly, he felt a burst of pain in his chest, as Bdubs screamed, “Skeleton!” from around the corner.

“Oh,” he shouted, turning around to Scar to see if he noticed that.

“What’s going on?” Bdubs asked, diving into the water and swimming up to them.

“Wait, wait!” Impulse cried, clarity suddenly dawning on him, “Did you just get- wait Bdubs! Did you just get hurt?”

“No you got hit by this guy,” Bdubs said, punching a drowned in the water, “You got hit by a drowned right?”

“I did?” Impulse asked, a hundred percent sure the drowned didn’t hit him. Bdubs had gotten shot by a skeleton and he’d been in pain a moment later. Surely that wasn’t a coincidence.

“Yes?” Bdubs said, still hitting the drowned as it came at him.

“No, when you yelled skeleton, I felt pain!” Impulse insisted, making his way up toward where Bdubs had seen the skeleton. The drowned died, Impulse turned back and they stared at each other. Bdubs sopping wet as he climbed out of the river.

“Uh oh.”

“Hang on,” Impulse shook his head, but he felt excited, every nerve on fire. This could be it. This could be his soulmate. And something in him just really wanted that. After the way the southlanders had fallen apart, with him hardly involved. He wanted this. He wanted something special. Something that was his and only his. He wanted to fall in love. And Bdubs. “Hang on,” Bdubs was sweet and funny, he was fun to be around. “No way.”

He got to the top of the little hill he’d been climbing and looked down to the other side. There was a skeleton standing there that almost immediately pointed it’s bow at him, but he didn’t move. He let it hit him.

“I’m gonna do it on purpose!” he yelled, clenching his teeth as the arrow pierced his shoulder. He turned around to Bdubs, anticipation filling him with an adrenalin that made him hardly notice the pain, “Did you get hurt?”

Bdubs just screamed and Impulse couldn’t tell whether it was a good thing or not.

“You did!” Impulse yelled and it was only half a question. His heart leapt.

“Yesss!” Bdubs screamed and that definitely sounded positive. Impulse was grinning ear to ear.

“No way!” he shouted, jumping a little and in doing so falling down the hill until he skidded to a stop next to the skeleton. “Uh oh!” He scrambled to put up his shield.

“I’m in trouble though!” he called back. He could probably take out the skeleton on his own. But he wanted to see if Bdubs would save him, “For reals, Bdubs, like-”

Suddenly there was a zombie out of nowhere and he backed up, actually needing rescuing now. Thankfully, Bdubs was there, jumping in with zero regard for his own safety and swiping at the skeleton angrily with his sword.

“You guys need some help?” Scar called from up the hill.

“Skeleton down!” Bdubs yelled and promptly turned around and sliced the zombie’s head off, watching as it disintegrated.

“I think,” Impulse stuttered before turning to Bdubs who was standing a little close with a stupid smile on his face, “This is us.”

“We’re soulmates!” Bdubs exclaimed, still grinning.

“We’re soulmates,” Impulse laughed, beaming ear to ear, “No way.”

“Yes!” Bdubs cried, punching the air. Impulse didn’t think his smile could get any wider but it did. His soulmate was definitely happy about this arrangement then.

“Oh my god,” Scar cooed, “What a beautiful sight.”

“How do we look?” Bdubs joked.

“Found a- for day one, found my soulmate,” Impulse said sweetly, feeling a little lightheaded and wondering vaguely in Bdubs could feel that too.

“Yeah,” Bdubs laughed.

“This is great!” Impulse beamed as Scar began to gush.

“You look, you both look just perfect. Just little love birds, it makes me so happy.”

And he did sound happy, but Impulse thought he heard a little jealousy creeping at the edge of his voice. Impulse found he didn’t blame him too much. Scar wanted to find his soulmate. Or course he did! That was reasonable. But he would. Of course he would.

“I had a hunch,” Bdubs nodded, wading into the water to ward off a drowned.

“I feel like we need to get matching clothes or something,” Impulse laughed, only half-joking.

“God, I wish I could just take a- a picture of this moment here with you two,” Scar half teased, grinning at the both of them.

“You know what! I got a spare one of these outfits!” Bdubs joked and Impulse shook his head with laughter. Impulse and Scar both noticed Martyn and Etho coming down from the cliff, clinging to the sides of a boat as they slammed into the water, rocking side to side. Bdubs, however, was caught off guard and swore loudly as the water suddenly crashed into him, spinning around looking for a drowned. Impulse couldn’t help but laugh. Two minutes ago, Bdubs was an idiot, now he was his idiot. And there was something oddly endearing about that.

“Oh, I told you this was a good idea guys with the boat!” Scar exclaimed, sounding excited and a little annoyed, “You didn’t believe me.”

Martyn climbed out of the boat and put down his crafting table.

“Yeah! I’m making a boat right now actually, based on that,” Martyn told him, quick with the save as ever.

“Guess what guys,” Bdubs announced but Scar was too busy teasing Martyn to hear, “Guess what,” he repeated.

There was a chorus of ‘what’ from Martyn and Etho. Bdubs took Impulse’s hand and he thought he might keel over and die right there.

“Impulse and I are in love!” he announced loudly. Impulse felt a heavy blush settle in his cheeks.

“Oh,” Martyn exclaimed with a smile.

“No way!” Etho asked, eyes wide.

“That’s right,” Impulse grinned, “This is us.”

“Yes.” Bdubs nodded.

“This is us.”

“Yes.”

“It’s our first soulbound of the season!” Martyn announced, now sitting on his crafting table, legs swinging toward the grass. “I love it.”

“We’ve figured it out already!” Impulse really did try to not make it sound like a brag but found he couldn’t. Especially when he couldn’t stop grinning, couldn’t take his eyes off Bdubs who was also beaming.

“Is this a happy marriage?” Etho, who had been suspiciously quiet, called from the boat, “Or is this like a…”

“It’s going wonderful!” Impulse gushed.

“It’s a fantastic happy marriage!” Bdubs agreed.

Impulse thought he might just float up into the air at those words. Bdubs wanted this as much as he did. They could actually be happy. Soulmates. Something about that made a part of him feel invincible. Like he had everything he’d ever need.

“It’s like well I did the best I could in my life,” Etho continued with his bit, despite being quite aggressively shut down by Bdubs and Impulse's happiness, “This is what I’m gonna have to settle with and-”

“Oh my goodness!” Bdubs cut him off.

“No settling,” Impulse adamantly agreed.

“Wow,” Martyn shook his head, grinning like it was some big joke.

“We’re an extremely happy soulbound couple okay?” Impulse said probably louder and more aggressively than he needed to.

“That’s right,” Bdubs nodded, giving Etho a glare.

“Forever and ever,” Impulse continued, Bdubs not backing away giving him confidence.

“We’re gonna make the best redstone contraption together.”

“Mhm,” Impulse was thrilled to find Bdubs was being just as not normal about him as he was, “We’re gonna catch a warden together!” he one up-ed him. Etho laughed at last and Impulse went to sit in the boat with him.

“Capture a- wow, big aspirations,” Martyn laughed.

“Skulkers, or whatever they’re called!” Impulse yelled incoherently.

Bdubs met his eye and grinned as everyone else moved on to talk about the consistent intense pain Etho had apparently been in. Impulse grinned right back, his heart feeling so incredibly full. Bdubs was his soulmate. He had someone who was all his. And he’d never felt happier.

Jimmy was having a good day until he found Joel.

Sure, he hadn’t had the best of luck in his cave. Someone had clearly already been here and taken all the iron and it was really starting to frustrate him how deep he’d gone just to find absolutely nothing.

But he hadn’t died.

And for Jimmy, any day he didn’t die, was a good day.

Then Joel showed up with iron armour and he knew exactly what had happened. Still, that was fine. Joel had found the cave first, he should have the iron. That was only fair.

Then he asked Joel for some of his salmon and he said no. But still, that was fine. He was as low on food as Jimmy and he didn’t owe him anything.

Then Joel attacked him just to piss off his soulmate and honestly, Jim just found that funny, a little endearing.

But then, as Joel laughed and stopped attacking him Jim teased,

“How did you not know it was me and you! It could have been me and you!”

“Ahh,” Joel shrugged, turning to his furnace, “I just had a feeling.”

“But yeah, we’ve, we’ve passed the test. It’s not me and you.” He went up to the furnace Joel wasn't using, leaning as casually as he could against it. “We’re not together.” He said, letting his disappointment creep into his voice a little, just to see if Joel would return it.

Sure, they’d hadn’t always gotten along great. But there was, undoubtably, something between Joel and Jim. There always had been. A faint memory Jim had of something outside the games.

“Yeah, I know,” Joel rolled his eyes, “I prayed that I wasn’t so, I guess.”

Jimmy just stood there for a few moments, wondering if he’d understood him correctly and feeling a little pre-emptively hurt because he was quite sure he had.

“You prayed that it wasn’t me?” he balked, more than a little offended and making no effort to hide it.

Joel just stared at him, standing there forlorn and Jimmy thought surely even if Joel didn’t like him, didn’t care about him, he’d at least feel sorry for him.

Instead, he just said, “Yeah.” With not an ounce of feeling and turned to walk away, leaving Jimmy there feeling like absolute shit. He knew he wasn’t the best at this. He knew he was a bit of a liability. But surely someone like Joel, someone who he was sure had some sort of feeling toward him, cared about him somewhat, wouldn’t be praying to not be his soulmate. Would there actually be anyone who wanted him? Did he even have the same opportunity everyone else did to be happy? To have a soulmate who cared? Anyone who was bound to him was also bound to his curse. So, whoever his soulmate was would surely hate him just for existing as theirs.

“There’s a mineshaft over here if you wanna come have a look,” Joel called dejectedly over his shoulder.

Jimmy swallowed down his stupid thoughts, “Ooh? Yes.”

“Nice little explore together,” Joel teased with a grin that made him want to punch him.

“Let’s do it!” he said instead, excitedly like he didn’t hate Joel to pieces in that moment.

He supposed now the feeling would finally be mutual.

“We might not,” Joel started, “I don’t really have the-”

“Don’t DIE down THERE!”

Jim jumped out of his skin and, arms flailing, scrambled for his sword, his eyes scanning for the source of the noise.

"Oh my gosh," He yelled at the same time as Joel muttered it angrily.

It was Pearl’s voice, from somewhere up above. Jimmy stared, trying to find where she might be. Probably in some kind of a strip mine right above them.

“Where the heck?” Joel sighed, “Hello?”

“I can’t even see you!” Jimmy shouted.

All the two of them could hear was Pearl’s manic laughter. They exchanged a concerned glanced.

“It sounds like a cackling witch,” Joel scoffed and Jimmy laughed, feeling ever so slightly better.

Maybe Joel had only been joking. Maybe he was just bigging it up in his head.

Maybe there was still a chance for him to find love.

They ended up in a geode, which was nice but the sound it made when you walked over it annoyed Joel to no end and Jimmy wouldn’t stop doing it. Pearl was still in the ceiling and neither of them could figure out where. Martyn, also somewhere in the walls, was blowing a goat horn and everyone being so close but out of sight was starting to stress Joel out and he was getting all riled up.

Martyn and Scar jumped in from the ceiling from some mine they had and Joel almost lost his mind. He had to remind himself he wasn’t red and couldn’t just kill them for being annoying.

They were joined by Etho a moment later and as Joel watched him fall, his legs buckling slightly from the fall, he felt a shot of pain go through his own legs.

“Ow,” he groaned.

“Hey Joel!” Etho said excitedly.

“Uh Etho I think-”

“Hello everybody!”

“Wait there’s an allay!”

There were too many people talking and Joel couldn’t concentrate and now Etho was getting distracted by Scar’s allay.

“Etho did were you just in pain?” he called over the noise.

“I was yeah,” Etho nodded, frowning as Pearl fawned over the allay.

“Wait I’m gonna try something,” Joel mumbled, going over to the wall, a plan forming in his head.

“No, don’t tell me,” Etho groaned although Joel couldn’t tell if it was a good thing or a bad thing. Did Etho want to be his partner?

“What dyou mean NO?” he yelled as he tried to make himself a tower to jump off.

“Noooo,” Etho cried, putting his head in his hands as he watched Joel accidentally block himself into the rock roof trying to prove his point, “Whyyy?”

“That’s not the reaction I want to hear,” Joel muttered miserably.

“Wait who’s together?” Jimmy called from the geode.

“Guys, I think we’ve just found true love,” Joel confessed jokingly as he finally carved out the ceiling enough to jump off his tower.

But his legs were fine and the tower wasn’t even tall enough to hurt Etho even if he was his soulmate.

“This is my partner,” Etho shook his head with a sigh as Joel towered up again.

He jumped off again, this time his legs buckled, so did Etho’s and he gave a yelp.

They just stared at each other for a few moments. Joel grinning sheepishly and Etho dejectedly dead eyed.

“Oh my goodness,” he practically groaned, turning away and running a hand through his hair frustratedly.

“You know what,” Joel said, taking a step toward Etho as he turned back, “When I look into that red eye.”

Etho’s face softened just for a minute and Joel realised with a jolt that was worse. Having a soulmate who actually cared about him was worse than having one who was frustrated with his presence. He knew how to be a menace, how to be annoying. He didn’t know how to be kind, how to care for someone.

He turned away, going into the geode where everyone else was hanging out and declaring loudly, “Guys! We found true love!”

“Some kind of love anyway,” Etho added, rolling his eyes.

“That’s pretty early in the season,” Pearl shrugged with an approving nod.

“Joel,” Etho called, already sounding like he was wrangling an unruly toddler.

“Yes?” Joel did his best to sound like a responsible adult.

“What does this mean for us now?”

But that caught him completely off guard. Because how was he supposed to know? He’d never settled down with someone. Not really. Scar, at magic mountain momentarily, but that’s all it had ever been. Momentary. He’d spent longer with Grian on the run. But that had been on the run. He hadn’t had to live the domestic life. They were both red and mental. It didn’t matter at the end of the day if one of them wandered off and died. They didn’t have time to have to know each other. But Etho. Who he’d been put with, who he’d been assigned. A soulmate. He couldn’t wander off on him. He couldn’t just decide he’d had enough. It was never going to be broken up by death because they died together. And how the hell was he supposed to do that?

“Are we together forever?” He asked and in an instant Joel knew he couldn’t refuse that. Etho, standing there with his eyebrow raised and a little smile lifting the corner of his cheeks that Joel could see.

“Forever,” he replied without missing a beat, “And always.”

And he didn’t know what he meant by that. But he knew he meant it. Then he felt weird and cringe so he added.

“Amen.”

There was a smattering of laughter and comments among the little group. The whole situation reeked of everyone else’s jealousy. But Joel wasn’t sure they had something to be jealous of.

“Well, Etho doesn’t seem too happy,” he called down to Jim and Martyn, “That I’m,” he paused and looked back up at Etho who was standing right behind him with a confused smile, “Soulbound to him.”

He laughed, leaning on a post, “Although, you’ve been in a lot of pain!”

“No,” Etho shook his head, “I’m thrilled. I’m thrilled.”

Joel stared at Etho, confused, a million thoughts rushing through his head. Was he really just teasing when he’d been acting frustrated. He sounded so genuine when he said he was thrilled. And he didn’t even feel the need to cover it up with a joke. Joel wasn’t good enough for him. He couldn’t be genuine, couldn’t be a good boyfriend, or husband or partner or whatever it was Etho wanted. He couldn’t be a good soulmate. All Joel knew how to be was a partner in crime and he wasn’t sure Etho wanted that.

But Etho was smiling nonchalantly at him like his casual grin wasn’t the most terrifying thing in the world.

“Damn that’s really a-hard pill to swallow!” Martyn called, pulling up his spyglass and looking through it.

Joel turned for a moment and then turned back to Etho.

“A-hard pill to swallow!” Jimmy repeated like it was the funniest thing in the world, holding an identical spyglass. 

Etho laughed, shaking his head and Joel joined in a little.

“Let’s not try and bring that back, Martyn,” Pearl scolded, shaking her head.

“Yeah let’s leave in last life, leave it in last life.” Jimmy immediately jumped ship.

“Come here Joel,” Etho instructed, turning and walking away from the geode, back into the mineshaft, presumably where they could have a private conversation.

“To show I really care about you Joel,” he told him, once they were out of earshot of everyone else’s shenanigans, “This is, this is for you.”

He held out a crossbow to Joel who took it giddily, “Oh wow,” he said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice, “Dyou know what? Here’s what I think of you Etho,” he pulled out an iron ingot he’d smelted and handed it to Etho who, to his credit, went along with Joel’s bit.

“Oh, aw, it’s beautiful!”

Joel pointed his crossbow up at the wall, pretending to use it and feeling cool until an arrow flung at the wall and it suddenly felt like a hot potato he needed to pass on.

“Oop, it was loaded!” he cried, laughing a little at the fact that he didn’t notice that and very carefully putting it into his belt. “I nearly shot you,” he scoffed, still laughing. Etho was too now.

“It’d be funny if you got it and then just shot me instantly,”

Joel laughed because that would be funny and grinned because Etho thought a lot more like him than he thought. He supposed he didn’t really know him that well. Maybe this would be good. Maybe he could learn how to be normal and have a soulmate. Maybe Etho could teach him. He grinned to himself at that thought.

Pearl was having fun.

She had been enjoying being a voice in the walls while a group gathered in the mines. She’d been interested watching Joel and Etho find each other. They had such an odd dynamic she couldn’t place. And now she’d gone off from there with Martyn and they were having fun and they’d found a spawner. She still hadn’t found her soulmate but the more she hung out with Martyn the more she somewhat wished it was him. Or wished she was like Joel and Etho and had just gone off with her soulmate already. She didn’t want to die and have to make apologies and explanations to someone she didn’t know. But she didn’t want to go around punching people either. She just wanted to find her soulmate organically. Like Joel and Etho had.

Well, whatever, for now, she was just fine with Martyn.

As first days went, this one hadn’t been bad.

There hadn’t been any deaths, which was promising for the longevity of the season and Grian hadn’t heard of too many people finding their soulmates. It took away all the fun if everyone figured it out early.

He’d found himself up on a mountain near the world border, having a ridiculous amount of fun getting goats to drop their horns and sounding them for all the world to hear. At some point, Scott had found him and although they weren’t soulmates, they’d spent an enjoyable time with the goats.

Grian wasn’t sure he wanted to find out who he was linked to just yet. He had all season to hang out with his soulmate, he wanted to spend some time getting set up before he went looking. He wasn’t getting set up, but Scott was fun and goats were addictive.

Eventually, morning came again and he figured he should probably move on and go find something else to do. Which was when Tango and BigB arrived, chatting about goat horns and not nearly as over them as Scott and Grian were.

“You guys aren’t soulmates?” BigB asked once they’d gotten all the small talk out of the way.

“No,” they said in unison.

“We just got stuck here,” Scott shrugged.

“We’re goat bros,” Grian grinned, leaning on Scott’s shoulder.

“We’re goat bros,” Scott said through a laugh.

“Alright let’s-” Big B stared down Scott and Grian stepped back, “Are you ready?”

“Okay,” Scott nodded, “Hit me.”

Grian rolled his eyes like he didn’t care and went back over to the wall, pretending to mine. But he looked back when it mattered.

But it was no good for the two of them and Grian smiled a little. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but he liked BigB. They were good friends, they always got along and Grian had a feeling there could be something more there. If the universe gave them the chance. For the first time so far this season, he felt himself actually buzzing with anticipation.

“Okay, we’re not BigB, I’m so sorry.”

Grian wasn’t. He put his shield up to try to grab BigB’s attention and had to hold back a grin when it worked.

“Well you were-” he started to Scott before noticing Grian and smiling, “Oh wait, oh.”

“Oh, oh.” Grian said quietly, with a stupid smirk.

“Are you ready?” BigB asked very seriously.

Grian could feel it, the anticipation, the absolute certainty. This was it. This had to be it.

“Yep!” he nodded enthusiastically.

But it wasn’t.

BigB didn’t flash red. He didn’t feel the pain.

Everyone groaned and gave ‘aww’s, leaving Grian kicking himself. Why did he have to do that? Get his hopes up.

“I was so sure!” he complained loudly, because the volume masked the sincerity. Tango and Scott coupled up to test but Grian wasn’t watching. He didn’t care. He was just pissed off that fate didn’t care what he wanted.

“Yeah,” BigB laughed, coming back up to where he was.

“I’ve never had such a broken heart in my life,” Grian lied.

“I know,” BigB sighed, “I am a little bit sad.”

And just like that Grian felt like a damn fool, utterly humiliated. A little bit sad? BigB didn’t care. Not like Grian did. And now he’d gone and announced how much he cared to everyone. God, why was he being such an idiot.

Get a grip, he told himself firmly.

Tango and Scott weren’t paired and Tango came over to Grian but his heart wasn’t in it. Still, damage control was important. He had to seem to care as much about Tango as BigB so that he didn’t seem like he cared about either. It was all just an exaggeration. A bit. But he couldn’t. He laughed it off with a shrug. He didn’t have the energy.

“I feel like I’ve met everyone!” Grian complained angrily. Maybe it was just that he really wanted a soulmate. Maybe it had nothing to do with BigB at all. Maybe he just wanted someone.

“Oh wait, no, I haven’t!” He said, doing a mental checklist of everyone. The others blathered on in the background as he counted, “Okay, so I haven’t met Bdubs, Etho, Scar, Martyn, Pearl…And then I think- oh and Tim. I think I’ve met everybody else now.”

“Have you met Joel?” Scott asked and Grian had to resist rolling his eyes because what kind of a stupid question, he just said he’d met everyone.

“Yeah, right at the start,” he replied, commending himself on his calmness.

“And no links,” Tango sighed, “That’s so weird.”

“Yeah-” Grian began but just then there was a stabbing pain in his chest that had him doubled over. “Oh my- OH! Ahh! Who’s got food?” He yelled as his head begin to spin. What the hell was his soulmate doing?!

“What?”

He felt another burst of pain and ran forward, clutching at BigB to stay upright.

“WHO’S GOT FOOD?”

“Oh, here, here, here,” Scott quickly realised this was a solutions now, context later kind of a situation and thrust melons into Grian’s hands.

“Gimme, gimme, Give me good! No! Give me food now!” He yelled in his panic as he took a large bite out of the watermelon, not even minding the embarrassment of the juice running down his cheeks as he ate whole slices a bite at a time. His dizziness slowly cleared, the world coming back into focus.

“If you die right here-” BigB shook his head, laughing incredulously. He was holding Grian up carefully and it was making him even angrier that this perfect man wasn't his soulmate.

“That’s terrifying!” Tango cried.

“Who am I partnered with!?” Grian screeched, finishing the melon and wiping his mouth, doing his best to take steadying breaths.

“It could be Jimmy or Scar,” Scott laughed.

“I almost died in one hit!”

Everyone laughed, but it was the breathless high-pitched kind that was really badly disguised fear.

Grian had a horrible feeling he knew exactly who his soulmate was.

Chapter Text

Bdubs had never been happier. Him and Impulse were mining out a portion of a mountain to make a house, gathering cows and planting crops to get themselves a food source (they’d been starving for most of the night before).

It was all going excellently!

And Impulse was there, smiling at him, and telling him what to do and getting oh so excited over the tiniest of things. It made him so happy. He could see why fate had chucked them together, they were perfect.

He couldn’t stop grinning, although it hurt his beaten face. Because what in the world did he do to deserve Impulse.

It was late morning when Grian came round, tired and breathless.

“Grian were you blowing horns!” Bdubs shouted over Impulse’s pleasant hellos. Impulse laughed at how desperate his soulmate was to find the culprit.

Grian laughed more genuinely than Bdubs was expecting. He’d only seen him yesterday morning when he was all Watcher mode and he’d forgotten how quickly he fell back into just being one of the players.

“I was blowing horns,” he scoffed out, through his laugh, as he made to sit down on their hill, dropping his shield in the grass and taking deep breaths. Being so casual around other players seemed a little foreign to Bdubs, who remembered the red mania of last season like it was yesterday. Though he supposed, for Grian, it wasn’t yesterday at all.

“I heard it,” Bdubs stated simply, making no effort to hide his annoyance at the stupid horns. He wasn’t even sure what about them made him so angry. He tried to preoccupy himself planting wheat but it wasn’t really working.

“That was you!” Impulse made much more effort to be nice.

Grian blew the horn again and Bdubs dug a lot more intensely at what would be the wheat farm.

“I think I’ve gotta go easy on it, cos I think pretty much everyone can hear across the map.” Grian laughed and shook his head, tucking his hair out of his face.

“Pretty much, yeah.” Impulse sighed, sitting down on the hill not far from Grian. He’d been doing things all day too and hadn’t really thought to sit down for a moment.

“Did either of you,” Grian asked, pointing his axe casually between the two of them, “Fall off a cliff and be in an extortionate amount of pain.”

Impulse smiled at the fact that Grian didn’t know they were linked. He would have thought news like that would travel the server fast. Bdubs was still labouring over the wheat farm, somewhat ignoring the conversation so Impulse replied for the two of them.

“Nope!” he said giddily, “Because what happens is if one of us is in pain,” he stood and jumped off the hill to no avail, landing fine, “I wasn't in pain there but…”

“Oh!” Grian nodded, finding a rock in the grass and throwing it at Bdubs.

“The other takes, there it is!” he winced as the pain of a rock hitting the back of his head reminded him how oddly good Grian’s aim was.

“Ow,” Bdubs cursed, turning around from where he’d been focused on the wheat farm.

“Ahhh, you found your soulmate!” Grian cooed with a grin.

“Yep!” Impulse smiled.

“Yes we did.” Bdubs sounded a little annoyed but Impulse didn’t blame him. Grian had just thrown a rock at him.

“I’m yet to find my partner,” Grian mumbled sadly, rubbing at some mud caked onto his shield, “in this series,” he glanced up and concern crossed his face, “Bdubs, why’re you beaten up already?” he frowned, sounding genuinely confused, “We haven’t even started.”

Bdubs cleared his throat, looked at his feet and told him, sounding sheepish which was something Impulse had never known Bdubs to be, “Last, last series. I…haven’t recovered fully.”

“The lingering effects of last life,” Grian laughed which rubbed Impulse the wrong way. It wasn’t funny. He was a little concerned as to why Bdubs had lied to him when he’d asked. He’d rather tell Grian over his own soulmate? Though, he supposed they hadn’t known they were soulmates then.

“It still hurts,” Bdubs said, louder and a little more accusatory, although Grian seemed to miss that, “Yeah, it still hurts.”

“But the more time goes on,” Grian sighed, dragging his hands down his face, “The more I’m convinced I’m partnered with Timmy or Scar because I keep being in massive amounts of pain! All at once.”

“Yep,” Impulse laughed, “Yup that’s gotta be.”

He wouldn’t admit it if it had been, but he was secretly glad his soulmate wasn’t Timmy. It wasn’t that he was anything less than a lovely person because he was. But being bound to him, meant being bound to his curse, and Impulse wanted to go far in this season.

He wasn’t sure he would have minded Scar though. Scar was deadly to himself sure, but at the end of the day, he was just as deadly to others and he had a streak of insane luck.

“That feels like a Scar thing.” Bdubs mused, looking up from the wheat field again.

“It feels, it does! I’m getting….” Grian laughed shaking his head into his hands and then looking up with the most sarcastically serious expression, “I gotta tell you boys, I’m getting- I’m getting a little scared. A little convinced.”

Impulse didn’t understand that. The last season Grian was partnered with Scar he won? If anyone would do well partnered with Scar, it was Grian. He had a way of managing him. Of honing all the things that were great about him and turning them into something untouchable. If anyone should be scared of Grian and Scar being paired, if wasn’t Grian. It was the rest of the server.

But Bdubs was laughing like it was all perfectly reasonable.

“It was so nice knowing you.” He said with a grin and Grian burst out laughing, grinning right back.

“Yeah,” was all Impulse could say quietly because he really didn’t know how to contribute. He didn’t understand Grian’s concern or why Bdubs seemed to think it was reasonable. He supposed Scar lost lives quickly, maybe that was it. But he also lasted on red like no-one else. Except maybe Joel. God, he hoped Grian and Joel weren’t paired. That would be awful.

“So, if this is the first and last week of double life-”

“It’s been fun!”

“Good luck to you for the rest of the series.”

“At least we ran into each other.”

Grian laughed and shook his head, standing and picking up his shield with a sigh, “Alright, I’m gonna continue my search.”

“Alright, good luck!” Impulse called after him as he set off.

“Good luck fellas!” Grian called back.

More horns sounded almost immediately as soon as Impulse turned back to Bdubs and he cursed angrily at them.

“Great! This is just this whole season is just people blowing horns!” he yelled at no-one in particular.

Bdubs just laughed and Impulse couldn’t help but join in. Bdubs shook his head and Impulse just grinned at him. Neither had ever felt so happy.

Cleo hadn’t really been hanging out with anyone all day. They’d met Grian, right at the start and then BigB up on the mountain. But mostly they’d locked themself in a little bubble of mining until they could get geared up. That hadn’t stopped her soulmate from being awfully reckless. It was absolutely terrifying Cleo who kept having to eat for a partner who clearly didn’t care in the slightest.

If she could just find them, maybe she could tell them to stop being such a dick and care about their health.

And besides that, it would be nice to have someone. Cleo hated being alone. Having no allies felt like having no armour. They were exposed. Vulnerable. It wasn’t that they needed someone to protect them so much as they needed someone to protect. Someone to center their energy around so they weren’t just drifting aimlessly trying not to die. And their soulmate would be the perfect project.

They eventually spotted a wheat farm in the distance, hearing Tango and Bdubs’ voices as she approached. She wondered if they were paired. That would make sense as a pairing they supposed. They remembered third life all too well.

“Hii!” Cleo called, running over the hill toward where the two of them sat at the bottom.

“Ooh!” Tango yelped a bit, jumping and glancing around, “Words!”

“ClEOOO!!” Bdubs shrieked, catching sight of them immediately.

“HELLOO!!” they joined in, in unison with Tango who had finally spotted her and was grinning ear to ear.

Bdubs lay down on the hill, grinning upside down at her as they moved to sit between him and Tango. They weren’t sitting that close. Maybe they weren’t soulmates after all.

Bdubs pulled them in for a rough hug as they laughed and grinned at Tango. There was something special between members of alliances that had never really fallen apart.

It was rare in these games.

“I was just gonna get a sleep,” Bdubs laughed, finally letting them go.

“Yeah,” Cleo laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind their ear and laying back on the hill alongside Bdubs, “I should probably sleep.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tango nodded, “Fresh sleep.”

But he didn’t lay down and none of them really had any intention of sleeping. Though Cleo had been mining for two days now and could easily fall asleep here. Everyone was green after all. If they just went into a cave or something, they could be safe.

“There you go, recharge your batteries,” Bdubs nodded thoughtfully, sitting up and Cleo smiled at the familiarity of the three of them all hanging out together. She really had missed the green days.

“Um, Cleo,” Tango propositioned with a sideways glance at them, “Do you know who your partner is?”

“I…don’t know who my partner is,” Cleo admitted carefully, not sure what Tango was getting at. Was this conversational? Did he want to know if they were linked? That would mean him and Bdubs weren’t linked.

“Okay,” Tango grinned, standing and beckoning them up, “Come over here, come over here.”

Cleo was a little confused, their anxious energy starting to kick in with the steadily growing confusion. Nothing had made sense to them so far this season and it was really starting to make them nervous.

“Okay, okay,” they nodded as Tango turned around and gestured at his back. They were doing a soulmate test. Arguably quite weirdly. What sort of a psychopath wanted to be hit in the back. They supposed it was an easy pain to identify.

They hit Tango a little harder than they meant to and he stumbled but he straightened up quickly, turning around with a raised eyebrow.

“No,” Cleo pouted, a little annoyed. They supposed Tango and Bdubs weren’t together either and wondered vaguely if they were with Bdubs. He seemed far too sensible, here with his wheat farm to be getting heaps of injuries and making no effort to heal.

“No,” Tango sighed before switching tones fairly quickly to frustration, “Everyone I’ve met!” he exclaimed angrily, “I’ve met like seven people and nobody yet.”

“I’ve met,” Cleo cut themself off, doing a mental rollcall that was arguably quite pathetic, they needed to go looking for more people. Instead, they sat back down next to Bdubs, watching as Tango paced, counting on his fingers.

“And I bet your partner loves that you keep doing that,” Bdubs teased, making a very good point that made all of them laugh. Clearly, with the level of indignation that Bdubs had, not everyone was in unbearable pain every two minutes.

“I’m thinking I’ve got Scar,” Cleo announced, coming to the conclusion they’d been mentally avoiding, “Because I’ve- I have been hur- I’ve used up all my food! Trying to keep them alive.”

Bdubs spluttered a bit as Tango turned to them and winced, “ooh,” with a laugh.

“I’m feeling some stereotyping going on,” Bdubs finally managed to get out, sounding confused and a little exasperated, “because Grian just came by and said the exact same thing.”

“Oh right,” Cleo half-laughed, trying to think of who else on the server could be equally chaotic for two people to be having Scar level of injury.

“I was standing next to Grian,” Tango began, moving back to sit with them on the hill, “And we’re having a conversation and he just starts shrieking in terror because he was suddenly in so much pain and he’s like AGHHH! It was amazing! It was like something out of a bad horror movie!”

Bdubs and Cleo giggled through the whole thing but Cleo was vaguely distracted by how much that sounded like Scar. Maybe they didn’t have Scar after all. But who else would be that reckless. Jimmy, maybe? Joel?

“Bdubs, whose your soulmate then?” They asked instead of all the questions no-one knew the answers to. “Since you, didn’t ask.”

He seemed fairly comfortable knowing it wasn’t Cleo so he must have already found his person.

“Impulse,” he said, a smile spreading across his alarmingly beaten face. Cleo raised their eyebrows sceptically. Who would have thought it, BdoubleO, in love.

“Aw, that’s cute,” they cooed, finding themself actually smiling a little. They genuinely were happy for Bdubs.

But they couldn’t stay there, with Bdubs and Tango, feeling like the good old days. Because Bdubs had Impulse and Tango had someone that was not either of them, and so did she. So, they had to move on. They couldn’t get too caught up in this or they’d start to miss it. And they couldn’t have that. Not when they couldn’t go back to it.

Impulse came back to find Tango and Bdubs chatting and felt his heart leap a bit. He knew the history between them and he had to remind himself firmly that this wasn’t third life. This was a new season and this season, Bdubs was his soulmate. Tango had his own person. So, it was fine. He didn’t need to worry. Well, he didn't need to. But he did.

“Whew,” he said with a laugh as he trudged up to the two of them and tiredly set down the water at the base of the hill.

“Wow!” Tango jumped a little, before grinning at Impulse.

“Hi,” Impulse muttered casually, sifting through his things.

“Oh, look it’s you, Mr, partner boy,” he laughed, sounding a little sarcastic. It put Impulse on edge, though it shouldn’t have because at the same time Bdubs grinned at him.

“Welcome back honey!” He leaned and kissed Impulse on the cheek, making a hot flush rush up his neck and face. He was quite sure he was obviously beet red but tried to act like that was a usual occurrence.

“Oh that was,” he couldn’t help a giddy laugh, somewhat out of relief that he was back to some kind of safety and partly because Bdubs hadn’t taken his hand off his arm, “That was dangerous out there.”

“Oh, it’s bad,” Bdubs nodded sincerely before glancing at the bucket on the floor and asking fairly rhetorically, “did you get a pail of water?”

“I did,” Impulse answered anyway, “I had to go across like, the whole map! felt like, but I got one. We’re good.” He reluctantly pulled away from Bdubs to go put down his things. He was exhausted from walking practically all night with the heavy bucket.

He was almost immediately greeted by skeletons as he wandered near the wheat farm and wondered why literally none of the monsters were going for Tango, sitting idly on the hill, or even Bdubs just standing around.

Eventually, once the skeletons were dead and much commentary had passed about their base and the state of their food situation that was getting more dire by the minute, hopefully less so once they could get their wheat farm hydrated, Tango made to leave.

“Alright,” he sighed, getting up from where he’d been leaning against the crafting table, “I’m gonna let you guys do your little soul linking thing,” he cooed, before sighing again, “And I’m gonna go, try and find my partner.”

Impulse felt a strange pride and reassurance fill him. He was happy for them. He wanted to go find his soulmate.

“Bdubs told you?” Impulse teased, unsurprised as he glanced over at his partner who frowned and stood up straight. “This is us?”

“Yeah, he told me there was a little thing going on there,” Tango confirmed, going along with Impulse’s teasing tone but sounding a little disappointed.

Impulse’s heartrate skyrocketed again. Was that jealousy? Or just disappointment that he hadn’t found his own soulmate yet? Was he even disappointed? Was Impulse making this up?

“It’s alright!” Tango jumped in, perhaps seeing the look on Impulse’s face that he quickly tried to hide, “I’ll leave you guys to it.”

Before Impulse could acknowledge how incredibly happy that made him feel Bdubs jumped in, shouting in concern, “Was I not supposed to tell?”

“No, it’s fine!” Impulse grinned, wrapping an arm around Bdubs and smiling at Tango how he hoped was appreciatively, “Tell the world! I’m proud!”

Bdubs turned and smiled at him, that little grin that made Impulse want to die. Bdubs turned back to Tango, “I am too, I wanna scream it from the rooftops!”

Tango just grinned at both of them and Impulse felt as though his grin would split his cheeks. Tango didn’t still have feelings for Bdubs. That was two seasons ago now and Bdubs cared about Impulse, his soulmate. He could relax.

“Alright, goodbye!” Tango called as he set off. Bdubs and Impulse waved him off until he blew his horn at which point Bdubs screamed at him and Impulse laughed, leading his angry soulmate toward more productive activities, both of them muttering about the ridiculousness of the stupid horns.

Ren was quite content.

He’d found himself a cave, it had lots of resources. He’d got a little set up above ground that was going just fine. He hadn’t died yet, which was great.

He hadn’t bumped into too many people, but those who he had weren’t his soulmate. He didn’t really mind who he got. He had his preferences, of course. He couldn’t stop imagining being soulbound to Martyn. But he would be fine with anyone. He would. He was hopeful when he ran into Scott. Being last seasons winner and generally regarded as sensible and able to survive. He’d been as glad as Grian had been that they weren’t paired. Their track record was abysmal after all. He didn’t really know Tango and still, he’d been hopeful.

Ren supposed he was eager to find someone. To find love. It was such a rare thing in these games. Well, it certainly had been last season. He couldn’t think of anyone who was genuinely committed to each other last season. It was all backstabbing and betrayals the whole time, not a single team that was actually close knit enough to care.

He supposed he’d given Lizzy his life. That was real. And whatever had happened with BigB right up until he’d turned red. And there would be none of that this season. No red curse tearing people apart because everyone who was together was red at the same time. He felt a wave of misery wash over him as he went back over his thoughts.

Lizzy.

She wasn’t here. He didn’t know why. He was half tempted to go and hunt Grian down just to ask. But he probably didn’t know, and even if he did, he wouldn’t tell him. People came and went. He supposed they stayed dead, until they were next needed by the watchers. And for whatever reason, those people weren’t brought into this season. Maybe they wanted even numbers for the soulmates. Maybe they just didn’t want too many people, in too many small factions. Ren gave an ironic laugh. That was too much chaos was it?

Well, the watchers only like chaos so long as it was controlled. So, not really chaos at all. He felt a little ill at that thought and put down his pickaxe, leaning against the stone wall. He heard a faint mutter of a voice that sounded a lot like Cleo’s calling his name. He  frowned, getting up and grabbing his things, hurrying to the waterfall that was serving as a slightly precarious entrance into his cave.

“Cleo, where are you? Come down!” He yelled up at them, “Come down into the cave hole!”

And after much confusion and a vague effort at direction, although he was rather easily distracted by the hoard of zombie’s coming after him, she managed to find the mine and made her way down through the waterfall.

They waded out of it with a grin as they pushed their wet hair out of their eyes.

“Hi!” they called enthusiastically, though her eyes were darting around warily.

“Welcome, welcome to my cave hole,” Ren gestured around with a grin, although there really wasn’t much to show off. It was a fairly generic looking cave that wasn’t really claimed as his in any way other than the torches littered around. “It’s wonderful down here, isn’t it?” he joked anyway, “Look at it!”

He picked up his pickaxe again, spotting a bit of iron he missed.

“It’s- it’s so much better,” Cleo nodded approvingly, “Than, than my cave hole.”

“Oh yeah,” he asked, interested, looking up from the hole he’d been hacking at, “Are you- are you close by?”

He had a feeling. Admittedly, he’d had that feeling with everyone he’d met so far. But he still couldn’t help but wonder. Maybe, him and Cleo. They got along well. Maybe they wouldn’t be soulmates in the way Bdubs and Impulse were soulmates. But they would still be good together. They would be best friends. It could be great.

“Oh, no!” Cleo quickly corrected, “I don’t have a place, I’m looking for my soulmate so I can punch them.”

“Aw your looking for your soulmate!” Ren cheered, not entirely sure why they wanted to punch their soulmate, but figuring it was like what Scott did with him, the way of testing, “Aw that’s so cute, I actually- do you know of any soulmate pairs so far?”

He was interested now. Cleo was looking for their soulmate, Scott seemed pretty intent on doing the same. Was that what they were supposed to be doing? How many pairs had already found each other? Was he behind that he hadn’t found his?

“Do you wanna share some gossip?” He raised an eyebrow, leaning against the wall again. He needed to sleep really. He was exhausted.

“Um,” Cleo frowned as a horn sounded in the distance, “I’ve heard that Bdubs and Impulse are together.”

“Yup!” Ren nodded gleefully with a smirk, “I saw- I saw them kissing in the forest.”

Cleo shouted angrily as they doubled over, presumably feeling whatever pain their soulmate was in.

“No,” they yelped, scrambling for their food, “No!”

Ren laughed good-naturedly, swinging his pickaxe up again and heading to a nearby vein of coal.

“Don’t suppose you’ve got any food,” Cleo asked hopefully, looking up from their things, “Because, my soulmate- I swear to god…is just…”

“Oh, did you just get someone else's pain?” Ren turned around, hurrying back to her as he realised what that meant, “oh, so we’re not soulmates?”

“Yeah,” Cleo sighed, sounding more frustrated than disappointed, “We’re not soulmates, no.”

“Aw that’s- aw I had a feeling!” Ren cried, his heart sinking just a little bit. Soon, he thought, with all the optimism he could muster, “I was like aw Cleo’s gonna be my BFF. Dang it! That makes me so sad.”

Still, they hung around for a while, talking and caving. Ren gave Cleo food because apparently, their soulmate was a nightmare, constantly in pain.

“It sounds like you might be soulmated with Scar,” Ren laughed and Cleo groaned. “Sorry for you.”

“Yeah,” they sighed, “That’s- that’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Yeah…”

“It’s either Scar or Jimmy.”

Ren laughed, “Okay, look- we can definitely ascertain that Scar and Jimmy are not soulmated because, if so, we would have lost two people out of the game already.”

“They would be dead,” Cleo agreed matter-of-factly, “That’s true. That is true.”

Ren knew Cleo had said they wanted to find their soulmate, but he couldn’t help wondering if they were putting it off. She spent a while more in the cave with him. Which he wasn’t complaining about. They were good company, quiet when there was nothing to say and always had something interesting to add when there was. He admired the way they quietly and adeptly took down monsters. He wasn’t sure why they were so scared of caves when they seemed the least likely to die in one.

The more time he spent with her, the more quietly disappointed he was they weren’t soulbound.

Tango drifted, unsurprisingly, to the caves. He hadn’t had any luck finding his partner and he was a little tired of people. He wanted to settle down but he didn’t feel like he could without his soulmate’s involvement. Bdubs and Impulse had set a precedent of living with your soulmate that he assumed most people would follow. It seemed logical. So, he ended up in the caves, so that at least when his soulmate found him, he would have something to offer them. Because being his ally wasn’t really much to be thrilled about. He couldn’t build, he couldn’t fight for shit. He was sure there must be things he offered but he just couldn’t think of them, so caught up in his own spiraling thoughts. Trying to distract himself with monsters and mining and utterly failing. He was half himself, not really concentrating. Not really paying attention. It wasn’t all that surprising things ended the way they did

Things were already not going well before the creeper.

He was in a cave, mind going on a wild tangent he could hardly follow as he tried desperately to keep in focused on the dark corners surrounding him. Then one creeper turned into two zombies and a spider, cornering him near the iron he was trying to mine. Then trying to run away from them, swiping fairly haphazardly.

Tango had never been amazing with a sword.

“This is not good,” he muttered in a panic as he scrambled up the mine, trying to get away from the hoard, no longer caring about his iron as long as he could get out of this alive, “Not good at all.” His heart was racing, his sword slipping in his hands as he tried clumsily to swing it, he was landing hits but not enough, if he could just get a little further up, he’d be able to create enough of an obstacle to kill them one at a time.

He actually breathed a sigh of relief as he jumped up onto the ledge and squeezed himself through the crevice that gave him enough time to vaguely compose himself.

Then, in an instant, there was a series of bright flashes followed by a bang so loud it rang through his head and a searing, awful pain rocketing through his entire body. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t see. His sword wasn’t in his hand anymore. He couldn’t breathe. He choked on his last breath as the world faded completely around him.

And for a moment, there was absolutely nothing.

He knew he was crying but there was no chest to rise and fall with the sobs. He knew he wanted to scream but there was no mouth with which to do so. He was just caught in utter limbo of the moment after his death and before his resurrection. He had only one coherent thought.

No.

Then suddenly, in was sprawled out in a tree, light and colour assaulting his eyes as the rough bark of branches dug into his legs. He groaned out a “Noooo,” as he buried his head in his hands, dragging them down his face.

“What happened Tango!” Jimmy’s voice harshly reminded him that it wasn’t just his own life he was playing with. Oh god.

“Oh hi! Hi!” he laughed. It was almost funny. He repositioned himself in the tree, not trusting himself to jump down and not yet having the energy as his panted for breath to climb down.

He caught sight of Jimmy on the ground, staring up at him. He was a little scratched up, presumably from climbing out of his own tree. That explained the pain Tango had felt.

"I’m so sorry!!” Tango groaned, burying his head in his hands again and then glancing up at Jimmy, not sure what he was hoping for. Forgiveness didn’t seem fair given he’d just gotten them both killed.

“How-” Jimmy started before sighing, closing his eyes exasperatedly, apparently rethinking his phrasing, “Take me through it. What’s happened there?”

“Oh,” Tango sighed, “There was… some caving. And then there might have beeeen about seveeen zombies and a spider and a- you’re being butted!”

And Jimmy was, a goat was butting at him, it’s horns right in his hips. The pain echoed through Tango’s hip and he couldn’t help a small smile. Despite everything, despite how this had started, he had a soulmate.

“Yeah let me-” Jimmy sighed, moving out of the way as Tango climbed carefully out of his tree, managing not to get hurt on the way down. If it weren’t at spawn because he’d died, that might have made him soulmate material.

“So, you just- you got blown up by caving?” he asked, the frustration in his tone making Tango’s insides curl. He knew it was reasonable. He knew he deserved every ounce of Jimmy’s anger. But it still made his heart break just a little bit to know he’d already failed his soulmate. There went his hopes of a happy marriage.

“And then I- and then I – and then I-” he spluttered, his mind still going at a hundred miles an hour, refusing to calm enough for him to form a sentence, “was focusing on the army approaching me from one direction and uh- yeah. The little creeper from behind trick.”

“Oh my god,” Jimmy groaned, running a hand frustratedly through his hair.

“I’m so sorry!” Tango insisted, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, waiting for his soulmates reaction. Waiting for him to leave. He had to, right? No sane person would stay with someone who’d already gotten them killed.

“Right,” Jimmy frowned, patting down his pockets. Tango could see him calculating, “Let’s meet up in a bit,” he said, carefully meeting Tango’s eye. And he was surprised to see the genuine determination in his gaze. He meant it. He actually did want to meet up. “I need to go get my stuff.” He sighed, closing his eyes and making little pointing gestures with his hands. Tango wondered if he was trying to figure out where he’d left his stuff. He certainly was, although he’d mostly given up. He was deep underground and it being early days, he was still far too disoriented to know even what vague direction the entrance to the cave had been.

“I don’t even know where I was! I just lost everything.” he laughed, as if his pain might make Jimmy’s less so. It obviously wouldn’t and he kicked himself for sounding like he was trying to trump him. “Yeah, I have no idea where I was.”

“Oh my gosh,” Jimmy said again, in that insanely incredulous way he did, “dude!”

“This is less than good!” Tango understated wildly.

Their conversation took a far more panicked turn as Jimmy also realised, dashing this way and that, before faltering and turning back the other way, that he had no idea where he was.

“Do you have any idea?” Tango asked, in a tone that might have been hopeful if it weren’t already so sure of the answer.

“It’s- I” Jimmy faltered before groaning and putting his head in his hands.

“We’re just running around like panicking in circles like I don’t know!” Tango cried, throwing up his hands in an almost amused frustration. This day really had taken a turn for the worse.

But then Jimmy looked up at him with a grin and laughed a little, despite the awful situation, and the pace at which both their hearts were hammering against their chests.

Something about Jimmy’s laugh was oddly contagious and Tango found himself chuckling too, meeting eyes with the other man across the clearing. They both just smiled, a little caught up in the ridiculousness of how incompetent they both felt right now. It was almost funny when they were doing it together.

“I’m trying to remember which direction,” Jimmy laughed in utter exasperation, turning back another way as if he hadn’t already gone there. As if he might magically know if he went the right way. Tango had to admit it was a little endearing.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Tango groaned again. This could have been good with Jimmy. He could see how well it could have worked. But with a start like this?

“No, don’t- don’t be sorry.” Jimmy insisted, shaking his head and Tango’s heart leapt, “It’s gonna happen,” he said like it was a broken vase or something not a literal death, “I feel like I’m gonna die in the future and your gonna have to take the punishment for that so...”

“Yeah that’s fine! That’s fine!” Tango talked over him, waving it away. He was too grateful to understand what Jimmy meant, to even hear him really. He was just so glad that his soulmate wanted to stay. That he didn’t blame him. That he cared enough to be there still.

Jimmy turned sheepishly, shrugging it off, calling something about getting his stuff as he made off into the forest that Tango barely heard.

“Best of luck,” he called after him and Jimmy laughed.

“Best of luck,” he returned, although Tango wasn’t really doing anything he needed luck in.

“I’ll try not to explode you again,” he laughed, like it was funny. But his stomach flipped and he wished he could reverse the whole day. He sighed and sat down in the grass almost as soon as Jimmy left, letting everything slowly wash over him.

Well, that happened, he thought miserably.

But a part of him was screaming with excitement. Because he’d found Jimmy and he actually had a soulmate now. A soulmate who insisted it wasn’t his fault, who laughed with him about the whole ordeal, who was determined for them to meet up later.

He couldn’t help a little smile. It could only go uphill from here.

Pearl was having a good day. She’d found people in the mineshaft and the geode, although none had been her soulmate. She’d been spending an enjoyable night mining with Martyn, whose company she enjoyed so much with every passing minute she was a little more disappointed that he wasn’t her soulmate. Vibing in a cave, mining, laughing, joking. It seemed like the sort of thing she should be doing with her soulbound. She wondered if they were allowed to team with people they weren’t bound to. She couldn’t see why not.

“Are we doing no helmets this season?” she called out to Martyn as she scrabbled her iron about on the crafting bench.

“Yeah, we are,” Martyn sighed, sounding more disappointed than Cleo at that.

She just shrugged and crafted a chest plate instead.

“I’m waiting for someone to like, see me from behind and be like ‘uh he’s wearing a golden helmet!’”

“Ay,” Pearl laughed, looking up at him with her chest plate half pulled on. He was fully into the theatrical whimsy of his impression, body language all wrong and gesturing wildly. She couldn’t help but laugh despite the borderline sarcastic annoyance building up.

“Because there is just a lot of plain yellow,” he laughed, running a hand through his hair that in this slightly uncanny world did look somewhat golden, shining as though it were metal. Pearl smiled a little, pulling the chest plate the rest of the way on with a tug and a groan.

“Bringing that back from last season,” she scoffed, refusing to meet Martyn’s gaze, a little awkward, “I said that last season.”

“Oh, did you?” Martyn grinned, dropping his theatrical performance fully as he sat down on the dusty top of his furnace that had cooled down enough to be vaguely safe to sit on. Though, Pearl suspected if he didn’t have any armour on, it wouldn’t be as pleasant. He sounded genuinely surprised, which genuinely surprised her because she’d thought it was an intentional jab.

“That was me, yeah!” she laughed, more good-naturedly now she knew it was an earnest mistake.

Martyn laughed and the sound was utterly contagious she grinned down at her crafting table, rocking back and forth slightly on her heels and utterly unable to focus on the armour she was making.

“I genuinely didn’t know,” he continued incredulously, “I was just like that could happen, I feel like that happened.”

“Of course, you say it to the person who said it,” Pearl laughed, shaking her head at him. She tucked her hair behind her ears, searching slightly defeatedly for something to tie it up with. She knew she wasn’t going to find anything. She’d just been tucking it into her hood, but the deep mine combined with the radiating heat from their furnaces was far too hot for a coat. She was barely surviving in the shirt and pants she’d had underneath it, sleeves rolled up to her elbows.

She smiled over at Martyn who had picked up his pickaxe again to head back down deeper into the cave. He flashed her a grin and raised his eyebrows before dashing past her into the depths. She took a steadying breath and grinned giddily to herself. Maybe she didn’t need a soulmate at all.

She stayed behind with her iron, she had more than enough and no desire to go back down into the caves. It made her think of Scott and the thought startled her. Suddenly she was back at the start of last season, with him in a cave, smelting iron with an array of furnaces and moaning about the heat.

“Getting as much iron as you physically can. So that you never need to touch a cave again!” He'd been assuring her animatedly.

A small smile crossed her face although she couldn’t decide whether it was a sad one or not. Surely not. The watchers could feast on sadness. It seemed highly improbable it would still be there but- no. There was definitely something more than reminiscing there. Something more like mourning. It made her feel uneasy and she quickly discarded the thought.

She tapped her foot absentmindedly as she waited on the furnaces, leaning her back against the wall and taking deep breaths.

"Chilling with my iron."

 she sang quietly into the cave, letting the sound fill her ears and empty her mind,

"Waiting for my iron to smelt."

She hummed a little tune to go with the impromptu song and exhaled into the dark, only the flickering furnace light casting shadows across the wall.

"Chilling with my iron. Waiting for my iron to smelt."

She hummed away to herself, dancing to her tune over to her furnaces only to see it still disappointingly raw and dance back, still humming away. She turned as she lost the energy to continue and saw Martyn, standing about halfway up the mine with a perplexed frown.

She grinned sheepishly, “Don’t mind me.”

They both burst out laughing at the same time and he continued on his way up, shaking his head and beaming at her.

Eventually, they decided it was time to head up to the surface, see what was happening. Pearl had hoped it wouldn’t be night and was a little disappointed when they climbed out of the cave to see the moon, high in the sky beaming down at them. Still, the milky glow of it’s light across the fields of tall grass blowing back and forth in the wind was a lot nicer than the monotonous grey, flickering torch light and shadowy corners of the mines. She took a deep breath of fresh air, relishing in the sweet openness and the freshness of this world. It didn’t smell like smoke and gunpowder yet. She decided she wanted to keep it that way as long as they could. Something about this seasons quirk, love. She could see the green days lasting a lot longer than they usually did.

She spotted a dog, stuck halfway up a mountain side and running back and forth, jumping at cliffs that were a little too tall for it.

“There’s a doggy too!” she cooed, tilting her head sympathetically at it, “Oh I have bones!” she suddenly remembered, scrabbling about for where she’d tucked them away. She found them and grinned as she made toward the dog, excitement growing with love for the little dog in her chest. “I have bones!” she called again, “I could tame the little puppy!”

“Yeah,” Martyn agreed, grinning up at it, “Etho grabbed one earlier on, I was very jealous.”

“HI puppo!!” Pearl exclaimed excitedly when she made it to him in the dark, climbing down the rather precarious cliff. “I’m gonna tame my best friend,” she muttered, voice thick with anticipation as she knelt down beside where he was stuck and let him come running anxiously to her, tail wagging back and forth so incredibly adorably. She couldn’t help but coo. She offered out her bone, worried he wouldn’t take it or that he’d run off with it and never come back to her. But instead, it crawled tentatively into her lap, taking the bone from her hand and positioning it carefully between it’s teeth. It let her stroke it lovingly, tickle underneath it’s chin and scratch behind it’s ears. It’s fur was matted but as soon as she found somewhere to live, she’d sort that right out. Alongside her own hair that was slowly becoming a wilder mess.

The night was cold, but the heat from the mines lingered for almost an hour as she watched Martyn try to tame a donkey that had been minding it’s own business munching at the grass and now seemed intent on trying to kill him. The dog stayed in her lap, curled up and seeming quite content munching on it’s bone. Eventually, she had to put her coat back on and it curled up inside it with her, pressing it’s head against her heart. She pulled it close, unable to contain her glee at how utterly adorable it was. She grinned up at Martyn who grinned back before he got kicked over by the donkey and swore, scrambling backwards through the grass. But both of them were laughing all the way.

“The thing bloody hates me,” Martyn muttered angrily, climbing to his feet again. Pearl laughed and turned her attention back to the gorgeous, cute puppy dog in her lap.

Who needs a soulmate, she thought with a laugh. The wind whipped her hair into her face and she sighed and tucked it into her hood.

She’d find her soulmate soon enough. For now, she was content. With her puppy, and Martyn and his stupid donkey.

Sword fishing in the river was not how Grian expected to spend the night. But he needed food, and you couldn’t exactly farm fish so no-one was going to be on his case for killing them all. Now, he was standing just off the bank of the river, up to his knees in the water. He was trying and abundantly failing, to dry himself by the heat of a furnace cooking his fish. It was providing much needed light in the dark river as well.

Then he heard what he was pretty sure were Joel and Etho’s voices from somewhere above him.

“Hello!” he called back to them. Then he blew his horn hoping to get their attention. Sword fishing by himself wasn’t exactly going to find him his soulmate and he’d suddenly had a hopeful thought that it might be Joel. Him and Joel had been together last season, they’d gotten along great and they’d survived quite a while.

They didn’t respond so he sighed and dived into the river again, spotting more fish swimming to this point in the stream.

“Hello! Where are you?” He heard Joel’s voice a lot closer as he surfaced again. He grinned, lugging the fish he’d caught over to the bank.

“Grian?” Etho’s voice came too, “Oh fish!”

Grian smiled a little at that. It was a good idea after all.

“I’m getting fish!” he called, making it to the bank, still not sure where the other two were.

“Have you found your partner yet Grian?” Joel called and he couldn’t help but sigh.

“Not yet, whoever I’m with is desperately trying to get me killed.”

He spotted them, a little further up the bank and grinned, then as he turned back to the water, he was greeted suddenly by Scar appearing from the water with a grin.

“Oh, that might be,” Joel laughed rubbing the back of his head self-consciously, “Are you sure it’s not Scar.”

Joel was thinking about how Scar had panicked as he hit him with the axe, how low he’d said he was. That would be good reason for someone’s soulmate to think they were trying to kill them and Scar hadn’t exactly been playing it safe the rest of the session. But surely not, right?

Joel waded in the river after Scar, ready to test this theory.

“Scar have you been in big chunks of pain in one-”

He was cut off by Joel punching Scar in the stomach. Grian felt a sharp winding pain and froze.

“Oh wait, that can’t have been you?”

But his breath was rushing, panic already seizing his throat. He felt like throwing up.

“No,” Scar scoffed, although Grian wasn’t quite sure which question he was answering, “Oh dude, my allay is gone again.” He groaned, making a half-assed attempt at swimming after it.

“Oh so it’s not Scar,” Joel shrugged, climbing back onto the bank and sitting in the grass.

Grian just stood where he had been for several moments now, completely frozen next to his furnace. His mind was completely empty of thoughts besides, surely not.

Surely not Scar. Not again. Not really.

He had only been joking to Bdubs and Impulse, he really had. But…he’d just been in pain. He’d felt that punch. Hadn’t he? Or was it unrelated? It could be.

“Oh, you’ve got an allay!” Grian cooed, momentarily distracted by the cuteness of the little blue fairy, bobbing up and down in an effortless flight that made Grian more annoyed than ever about his own clipped wings.

“Me and Etho have found love!” Joel announced, distracting Grian again.

Not Joel or Etho either. That really was narrowing it down.

“We’re together,” Etho said, sounding a lot less thrilled and confident than Joel.

“You’re- you’re together now,” Grian laughed, trying to move his thoughts on from Scar.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Joel laughed, sounding a little nervous. Grian frowned. Was he alright? Surely he should be happy to have found his soulmate. He supposed not everyone would be but Joel and Etho didn’t have any grievances.

But Grian couldn’t shake the thought that Joel’s punch and his pain felt awfully convenient. He waded into the river again. Swimming up to Scar and pinching him hard on his leg.

“Wait, is it, are we?” he stuttered, as he felt a pinching pain on his leg.  He punched Scar this time, fairly lightly on the arm, not enough to make him stop chasing his allay or even acknowledge Grian. But Grian felt it.

“No.” he shook his head, swimming after Scar, “No, no, no. I didn’t just feel your pain did I?”

He knew he did. He knew it in every part of his brain.

“Scar I think-” He called after him but Scar was still silently grabbing at his allay, trying to make it stay, “Scar!” He called louder.

“Scar,” Joel joined in, but didn’t have any sort of patience and immediately dived in the river and swam after Scar, a much faster swimmer than either Scar, or Grian, who had already given up and was just standing, knee deep in the water, feeling like his world was falling apart.

“I think it dropped it!” Scar was calling, still obsessing over his stupid allay, “Come here little buddy!”

Grian wanted to punch him. He wanted to cry. But he cursed himself for wanting to do either of those things. It wasn’t. It couldn’t be.

Surely not.

“Scar I think we’re soulmates and you’re too busy chasing fairies!” Grian shouted. So angry, so utterly caught up in an incomprehensible mix of feelings. Why? Why would they do this. They knew how he felt about Scar. Knew what it did to him.

He felt a burst of pain, not even coherent enough to work out where it was coming from. Fuck. No.

“Hold on, hold on, my true soulmate is running away from me!” Scar called back at him, not really listening. In the way Grian might have once found endearing.

“Did that hurt you Grian?” Joel called back at him and Grian realised Joel had punched Scar. Was that, the burst of pain?

Surely not.

“Grian?” Joel called again but Grian found he couldn’t say a word.

“He’s running away from me!” Scar yelled, “Come back here.”

Which, in a bitter irony, was exactly how Grian felt.

“Noo,” Grian shook his head, refusing to believe it. Absolutely not, “Not aga-”

Then he watched as Joel punched Scar. He felt as he felt his punch. Felt himself feel the pain.

“NOOOOOO!!!” he screamed, his voice hurting at the effort but he didn’t care.

Why? Why did it have to be them? He didn’t mind that it wasn’t BigB that much. Anyone, anyone else would have been fine. But Scar? His Scar? The one man he’d ever let himself love. The man who had ruined him, cursed him, made him the person he was today. The person who utterly despised the idea of being linked with him. Even for the Watchers, even for all their grievances against Grian, even for the way they adored to torture him. Even from them, he hadn’t been expecting this. Even for all of that, this was a low blow. This felt awful.

Fate his ass. This was design.

And he hated it.

Joel was laughing, cackling his stupid head off, “Are you actually linked?” He snorted.

Grian couldn’t bring himself to answer, to say anything. Scar was out of earshot now. Chasing his stupid allay.

“Joel, I threw my enderpearl!” Etho cried, “I might die.”

“Goodbye, goodbye Etho,” he laughed as Joel screamed, “WHAT?!”

He found he was capable of words. Just not about Scar. Not about this. His mind was still grappling with the implication. Spending a whole season, another whole season, with Scar. Protecting him, looking after him, loving him.

And he would. He would love him. There was nothing he could do about that.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t do that again. Because he couldn’t care. He couldn’t get invested. He knew how much it hurt last time and he wouldn’t do that.

“I’m sorry,” Etho muttered and then disappeared.

Grian laughed despite himself but he felt it was probably mostly just to cover up his frustration, the utterly incomprehensible mix of feelings he had toward this.

Joel laughed to once he realised Etho hadn’t died. Etho jumped back into the water from wherever on the mountain he landed and Grian finally got up the courage to talk. To acknowledge.

“Erm Scar,” He made his way over to where Joel was standing near his furnace, “Okay, Joel, Scar hasn’t figured it out yet. So,” he took a deep breath and shrugged, “Let’s just keep it a secret for a while.

“You’ve got your work cut out for you Grian,” Etho laughed, clambering aboard his boat.

Grian could die at how true that statement was. He looked at Etho, on a boat in a river and he couldn’t help but think of a boat in a lake. That was where he was headed. There was nothing he could do about it. He felt tears prick at his eyes and hurried into the water again. This was why he didn’t want Scar. He didn’t want to think about all that again. All the painful memories between them.

“I’m just gonna see how long,” He forced a laugh.

“The reason he was in a lot of pain by the way,” Joel told him somewhat embarrassedly, “Is that I hit him with my axe to…annoy the person…”

“I nearly died!” Grian cut him off, anger at Joel momentarily replacing all the feelings he didn’t understand. It felt good. Maybe that was all he needed. Just someone to be mad at.

Joel was laughing so hard he wasn’t making a sound, doubled over as he wheezed, “Yeah, he said he felt like he'd pass out.”

“Oh, I can’t.” Grian groaned, sitting down on his furnace and burying his head in his hands.

“What’s he doing?” Joel scoffed as Scar jumped from a little way up the mountain into the river and swam toward them.

“Unbelievable,” Grian muttered, because it was. He still couldn’t believe it. He still couldn’t wrap his head around it.

“Gah, it’s unbelievable Grian,” Scar agreed, “I lost my allay.”

Grian wanted to drown him. Or himself. Instead, he just laughed incredulously, a sound that was almost crying.

So, Timmy had had one good day. Apparently, the Watchers decided that was plenty.

Although, at least the death wasn’t his fault. People could mock Tango instead.

He hated that those were his first thoughts upon finding out who his soulmate was.

And he almost felt bad, as Tango apologised on repeat. It wasn’t like he was the most reliable partner in the world. He was probably the worst soulmate on the server. The way he saw it, Tango was just getting presumptive revenge.

The panic that had seized him when he first realised he was at spawn with absolutely zero idea where he’d died was now fading into a steady grudge.

Of course. Of course this was already happening. Of course, his glorious, better season was already going to shit. He was stupid to think that it would be any different. If anything, this just proved this world was worse. If the canary was already choking and they’d barely even scraped the surface of the mine. Barely a day in, he worked out, wasn’t it? He was sure it had been the first night? Maybe the second. Oh god, he was already losing track. This wasn’t good.

His traipse around the server looking for his things may as well have been a walk of shame.

“You know- you know what’s funny?” BigB said, shaking his head at Jim as he leaned against a tree near his mine, “I said, ‘you know if I’m partnered with Jimmy, at least you know- I know I’ll die first’ and then you die first!”

Which made Jimmy feel like shit until they got to talking and BigB sighed, smirking at Jimmy and asked, “Why aren’t you my soulmate?”

Jimmy felt himself flush head to toe and laughed, running a self-conscious hand through his hair. Maybe he was a little more wanted than Joel would have him believe.

BigB directed him to Impulse’s not too far off if he was looking for food (which was good because he thought he’d been near Impulse when he died) and gave him some spare cobblestone (not exactly a rare resource after spending time in a mine but he was appreciative anyway). Jimmy had nothing to offer him but good luck in finding his soulmate but BigB seemed to appreciate that and they both headed on their way.

Impulse directed him to the bridge that Jimmy had seen him crossing shortly before he died and thankfully, didn’t make fun of his death at all. He was appreciative. Impulse was always sweet like that. He confirmed his suspicions that him and Bdubs were a pair with a giddy smile that made Jimmy a little jealous. He doubted he’d ever have that. No-one would ever be that excited to be his soulmate. He reminded himself sternly that BigB had just been disappointed he wasn’t.

He might have been lying, the stupid little voice in his head suggested, easier to say these things as long as they're possibilities and not reality.

“Did you guys not end up at spawn together?” Impulse asked eventually, curiosity clearly getting the better of him, “Or were you just so mad at each other you just decided to go separate directions anyways?” he said the last bit with a laugh.

“No,” Jimmy shook his head, wondering with a frown if that was a thing you could do. He supposed there was nothing saying you had to team with your soulmate. It was just easier if not. “We’ve got a chest at spawn,” he explained, vaguely remembering that was supposed to be an inconspicuous chest at spawn and cursing himself for being a liability, “He’s gonna regear a little bit, I’m gonna go get my stuff and then we’re gonna re-“ he wasn’t sure where he was going with that so he switched paths awkwardly, “come back together.”

“Okay,” Impulse nodded, clearly impressed at the thought and planning, but in the way a kindergarten teacher was impressed with their students. Jimmy wasn’t sure whether to feel embarrassed or proud so he settled for indifference.

“Um, it’s not been a good start,” he sighed, wandering off in the direction Impulse had pointed him in, making it clear he meant to leave.

“That’s one heck of a way to start off a relationship, I’ll tell you that.” Impulse laughed, following him to make it to his wheat farm where he stopped and let Jim go on ahead.

“Yeah. Death, Yeah.” Jimmy thought that at least it wasn’t his death. Though he supposed that was how the relationship was going to end. He hated that thought so he pushed it away, he didn’t need to think about his last death now. There was no reason he couldn’t recover from this.

“Did you just find out who you’re partnered with that way?” Grian asked with a laugh that would have felt belittling from anyone on the server but felt especially cruel coming from his brother, king of condescending.

He watched Scar hurry off from Grian as he approached Jim, like an unruly toddler letting go of mummy’s arm when she started chatting. Were they paired?

“Yeah,” he sighed, the confession quiet, barely acknowledged.

Grian laughed breathlessly, shaking his head at him.

“That’s the way it happens, huh.” he sighed, not particularly interested in having this conversation. Grian was still laughing and he wanted to punch him.

“Have you found yours?” he settled for instead, side eyeing Scar. It was a question Grian tactfully avoided, pretending not to hear as he pulled out his goat horn, bringing it up to his mouth as he called, “Look! Guys, guys, guys! Watch this, watch this.”

He blew the horn, the sound much louder and crisper than Tim had expected, it seemed to fill the air around them. He wondered how far away you could hear it.

“And listen!” Grian held up a finger to signal for them to wait, Scar and Jimmy exchanged a glance, “Listen, listen, listen!”

There was a harrowing silence.

“Boo, boop ba boo,” Scar hummed, the exact sound of the response horn. He apparently felt bad. Jimmy was revelling in Grian’s embarrassment.

“The one time no-one responds,” he half-laughed but mostly cried.

Jim couldn’t help but laugh, all too aware of the sun setting on the horizon and how much time he was wasting.

“I need to go try get my stuff back,” he called, craning his neck as if it would help him see into the distance, “I’m pretty sure it’s over here.”

“Tim, Tim, Tim.” Grian muttered, taking his arm.

Tim turned, a little surprised as he always was, by Grian’s casual affection. It was as if he’d forgotten brotherly affection wasn’t limited to mocking and murder.

He gave him a bag full of fish, looking him carefully in the eye with a ‘look after yourself’ kind of a look.

“Oh, thank you so much,” He muttered, grabbing the bag off Grian and letting the corners of his mouth tug upwards a bit. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it wasn’t not either.

“Don’t die,” Grian joked, giving his arm a squeeze and letting go, riffling through his stuff to redistribute the weight, calculated as ever.

Jimmy just gave him one last grin and headed off, sighing to himself. He was glad to have a little distance from Grian this season. He loved him really but he always left him so confused, so utterly conflicted. It was exhausting.

He thought vaguely of Tango back at spawn, probably having run off somewhere by now. He thought about how utterly unphased he'd been by the soulmate pairing. Was he aware of Tim's curse? Surely he had to be?

He decided he didn't care. So long as Tango didn't care, he didn't care.

And maybe, just maybe, they could be happy together.

Chapter Text

“Yeah it is!” Scott heard Ren exclaiming somewhere below, “It is enough for pants.”

He took a few steps forward to the edge of a cliff overlooking a patch of water. A small wheat farm indicated someone had settled here.

“Please put pants on,” came Cleo’s voice, “It makes me uncomfortable.”

Scott gave a little smile as he raised his horn to his lips, sounding it to the bickering pair down below.

“I- What is that?” Ren asked and Scott could imagine him spinning around, searching for the source of the noise.

Scott laughed and calculated the jump before diving into the water below.

“That’s the first time I’ve heard the horn,” Ren was saying when he emerged from the water, “Is that calling us to something?”

Scott began making his way through a cave, looking for where the other two were, listening to their slightly panicked conversation. He found them just as a creeper was approaching them, sizzling loudly.

“Watch out!” he yelled, laughing as he startled Cleo who jumped practically out of their skin as the creeper exploded.

“Oh, my goodness,” Ren gasped, lowering his shield from where he’d been blocking the creeper and glaring jokingly at Scott, “Major!”

Scott just laughed, noticing Cleo looking not at all surprised anymore.

“Hey Scott,” she laughed.

“Hi,” he smirked, shrugging his shoulders and putting away his sword in favour of melon.

“Have you got any gossip for us?” Ren asked, pulling off his helmet and wiping sweat off his forehead. Scott eyed the two carefully, wondering if they were soulmates. He supposed they got along fine last season really. Their relationship was one of few in their alliance that hadn’t really fallen apart so that had to count for something. But he was really hoping Cleo was his soulmate.

“We have some hot gos for you,” Ren said with raised eyebrows.

Scott gasped theatrically, assuming that meant they were paired.

“I have none,” he shook his head, “Apart from obviously it was Tango and Jimmy were gone- like together.”

“Oh, Tango and Jimmy?” Cleo asked and Scott frowned, had they not seen them die? “Okay.”

“Oh wow- oh yeah we didn’t even see that!”

Scott just laughed, shrugging as they both scrabbled out their communicators and exclaimed over the death message in chat. Scott kept his in his pocket at all times. He liked to be aware of everything that was going on. He thought most people did. Leave it to Cleo and Ren to completely miss the first death of the season. He was starting to see how they could be soulmates.

“I may or may not have spotted Bdubs and Impulse in the forest,” Ren said with a smirk that indicated it was more may than may not, “Getting up to naughties.”

Scott’s eyebrows raised by default but he was actually surprised. Bdubs and Impulse. Another pairing he wouldn’t have picked, but when they were put together, it made perfect sense really.

“And I definitely know,” Cleo confirmed, “Because Bdubs told me they were together.”

Scott nodded, appreciating that. You could still go around and snog whoever you wanted, he supposed. Just because people were kissing in the forest didn’t necessarily mean they were soulbound. But it made sense.

“Oh so they’re together, together?” he confirmed.

“They’re together, together.”

“Okay, you need to hit me,” Scott told Cleo and was pleased that she didn’t even hesitate to punch him.

But she wasn’t hurt and he sighed, “No.”

He actually felt disappointed for the first time he’d tried with someone. He’d been hopeful about Cleo. He tried to work out who else it could be. He really was sick of trying and failing. How had Impulse and Bdubs been so lucky to find each other straight away? Even Tango and Jimmy, while that wasn’t ideal, at least they had someone.

Scott felt another pang of something that wasn’t quite love and sighed, leaning against the wall as Ren muttered something quietly to Cleo who laughed and swung their pickaxe up again, heading for a vein of coal.

He let himself stay there for a few minutes, basking in the safety of having others around him again. The cave was large and open, the waterfall into it was glinting in a sunlight that beamed down to reach them even here. It wasn’t nearly as claustrophobic as the tight corners and low rooves Scott was used to when mining but it still had that distinctive dusty feeling and smelt rotten and damp. He had just about made up his mind to leave when he heard BigB’s voice from above.

BigB wasn’t sure how Jimmy had already died but he wasn’t surprised.

It hadn’t even really felt like they’d started yet. They’d only been here like a day and already…This wasn’t going to be a very long season, he’d concluded.

He was excited however, for the season as long as it lasted. Practically tearing at the seams out of excitement. He wanted to find his soulmate, he wanted to see the world, he wanted to find a place to live! And there was so much opportunity now, before the red mania set in. Though, with Jimmy and Tango already yellow, he wasn’t sure how long that opportunity would actually be around for. He settled on the conclusion that he would just have to find his soulmate quicker.

He wasn’t sure who it was going to be, but he was just very much looking forward to seeing who it was. Whoever it was.

Well, if it’s Jimmy, he’d thought as he’d first began to mine, we’ll probably die first. If it’s Cleo, there’ll be a vengeance. If it’s Grian, I mean, he’ll build the best thing ever.

He’d like Jimmy, or Grian. He could see that working out. He had a horrible feeling it would be Cleo and didn’t even want to think about that possibility. He thought of their laugh, echoing in his ears as he gasped through the pain of her arrows, blood staining the river red. He tried to shake away those thoughts, gripping his pickaxe tighter. No. Not Cleo, he prayed rather belatedly as the soulmates had already been selected. He couldn’t do that. And there was another he couldn’t help but think of, despite his memories of him tainted in that last moment. But it would never happen. It would never work. Ren had never been loyal to him. Whatever he thought they’d had, it wasn’t real. But maybe, just maybe, being soulmates might change that. He allowed himself to wish it stupidly with a smile but he knew it wasn't reasonable of him.

Hoping wasn’t productive in these games, but he couldn’t help it.

And he’d hung out at the goat mountain for a bit, he’d met some people. It wasn’t Grian, which had him more than a little disappointed but not quite as bummed as Grian seemed to be which made him feel a little guilty, though he wasn’t sure why.

He’d met Impulse and Bdubs who seemed to be settling down just fine and although he was happy for them he also couldn’t help being jealous. He wanted to find his soulmate so badly.

“I know that face,” Impulse had said with a gentle laugh, “Almost everyone who’s come by has had that face.”

BigB looked up at him with a grin that was no longer making any effort to hide it’s sadness, “Not surprising. You guys have got it all.”

“Yeah,” Impulse sighed and shrugged, “But you’ll find your person.”

But with every person he met, he was less sure about that. It got to the point that he was rather blearily traversing the plains, with one piece of watermelon his only stock of food and the midday sun beating down on him, soaking him with sweat and slowing his journey. He sat in tall grass next to a frog that was sitting idly, hiding among the blades.

“Alright frog,” he nodded, a little too seriously for the fact that he was talking to a frog, “I think you’re my- you’re, you’re good luck, okay?”

The frog gave a noncommittal croak and BigB took that as a sign it was agreeing with him. Maybe the heat and tire was making him slightly delirious.

“Can you tell me the direction my soulmate’s in?” he asked, leaning down so he could be eyelevel with the fucking frog. To his surprise, the frog leapt up and past him, jumping away into the grass. He struggled to his feet and nodded, maybe it was listening after all.

“Okay, frog,” he mumbled as he headed off in the way it had gone, catching sight of an open cave in the distance, “I believe in you.”

So, yeah. Maybe, it felt slightly like fate when he heard Ren’s voice from below in the cave. Maybe he was getting his hopes up, despite all the danger he knew that entailed.

After much hesitance, he jumped into the virtual puddle on the cave floor that somehow saved his fall. It was just another uncanny thing among many in this world. Like how a shot through the heart wouldn’t necessarily kill you. It was just another reminder that this place wasn’t right. It wasn’t real.

But everyone vehemently chose to ignore that.

Almost as soon as he had made it, saying hello to Ren, Scott and Cleo, who seemed to be hanging out together in the cave, Etho and Joel were right next to them, splashing buckets of water carelessly at their feet.

They were so in sync, grinning at everyone before Joel began to bounce and pace excitedly and Etho just stood there, looking exasperated with him.

BigB guessed immediately that they were soulmates.

“Welcome everybody to my cave hole!” Ren called over the murmurs of hellos and conversation that had broken out among the group.

There was much discussion about the zombie spawner him and Cleo had found before conversation inevitably turned to who was paired.

“You know I’m starting to run out of people I haven’t seen,” Scott began, before muttering his thoughts out loud, listing people that either he had or hadn’t seen.

“Is it any of you guys?” Joel asked, punching Scott who scoffed “No,” angrily and hit him back. He laughed and ran away.

Those two weren’t paired. Which was probably good for everyone involved.

“It’s not Impulse, Bdubs. They’re together,” Cleo added helpfully as everybody settled themselves into a sort of cluster, sitting around on the dusty floor of the mines. Most people were eating, leaning against the wall, just taking a rest. BigB was exhausted after trekking almost all day and found himself a quite spot with a chunk of rock to lean on. It wasn’t the comfiest thing in the world but he thought he could probably fall asleep.

“Okay so then Martyn, Pearl,” Scott mused and BigB tuned out slightly, checking the list of names on his communicator, trying to work through for himself. He hadn’t seen that many people, but with soulmate pairs popping up, it was getting narrowed down fast.

“I know Grian Scar are together,” Joel added, the only one still standing and pacing, full of restless energy as ever, “But-”

“Wait who’s together?” Scott interjected, looking up from his own communicator with a frown.

“Oh really?” BigB laughed, shaking his head. Grian Scar. That wasn’t going to end well. He glanced at the list of names again. That was really narrowing it down now. Chances were, it was someone in this cave.

“Grian and Scar but Scar hasn’t realised it yet,” Joel explained, with a laugh that could only be described as a cackle.

There was a smattering of laughter joining his. It was a very Scar thing to do to not even notice his soulmate and a very Grian thing to do to not tell him.

“Then, it’s Martyn or Peal has to be mine,” Scott surmised, thinking more logically than anyone else as ever.

“And then same with me I think Scott,” BigB called, There was too much going on and the stone dust was assaulting his face. He couldn’t concentrate, he wasn’t thinking clearly.

“I genuinely think I might be partnered with Scar personally as well,” Cleo added, drawing his attention back to them. Did they also not know?

“Wait, hm,” BigB frowned, trying to work out where they fit into all this, “Oh you haven’t found your soulmate yet?”

“Scar is definitely…” Joel began before rolling his eyes at being cut off by Scott again.

“How is Scar with Grian, how do you know?” Scott asked directly, trying to get to the point.

All the threads were too much for BigB to string together with everything going on.

Cleo shook their head at him as Scott came between them, interrogating Joel. He grinned back. Apparently he wasn't the only one who was lost.

“Because I’ve seen them together and I punched Grian and it hurt Scar,” Joel said, fairly redundantly and very irritably but it seemed to satisfy Scott.

“Guys I’m very alone,” Ren added, as the group investigation hit something of a dead end, “I’m gonna be forever alone, I feel like I’m I don’t have a soulmate.”

He sighed and hung his head, shaking it as he stared at the stone floor. BigB felt a rush in his chest. Oh, Ren, he thought, with a surprising amount of sympathy considering the last time they saw each other. Admittedly, he already knew he was capable of overlooking everything that happened in the end in last life just for a glimpse of what had been there.

“I haven’t found my soulmate,” he mused, suddenly very aware that for all his hoping, he hadn’t factored in Ren at all.

“Wait,” He reached out and tugged a strand of Ren’s hair, hard enough to make him yelp, “BigB!” And hard enough for him to feel a sharp shoot of pain in his head. His heart leapt with excitement until Ren groaned.

“Oh, it’s not us.”

He frowned; quite sure it had been. Quite sure it was.

“Wait,” but no. It can’t have been. He was just deluding himself. Hoping had gone to far. He stared at the ground, trying to steady his breathing that had suddenly gone quite frantic, “It’s not- no. yeah.” He sighed, leaving it at that, willing to believe what Ren told him.

“It’s not us,” Ren cried again, slumping down to sit with the rest of them now.

But then Joel punched him so hard in the arm he almost tipped over and he yelped. Joel punched Scott and then Ren, apparently having decided to solve this problem the way he solved every problem, via violent rampage.

“We’re not together BigB,” Ren sighed, and he sounded genuinely upset. It made BigB smile a little, even if it was tainted by the sadness that he wasn’t his soulmate.

“Yeah, I know,” he mumbled, his mind still caught up on the sharp pain in his head. What had that been? Surely he hadn’t imagined it?

“No, no wait!” said Joel, punching him again.

“Oh wait, I just-” BigB insisted, more confident to call it out now someone else had.

Joel hit Ren again and BigB grinned. He’d definitely felt that.

Joel kept hitting him and BigB might have been annoyed if he wasn’t feeling every single one of those punches. Suddenly everyone was aware of it, exclaiming and cheering. BigB hardly heard any of it. He was so laser focused on Ren, on determining his reaction. But he could already see that he was grinning.

“Wait a minute!” He cried as BigB jumped up with excitement. “Wait a minute!”

“Ay, let’s go!” BigB screamed, letting himself trail off hardly believing it.

“We’re best friends forever baby!” Ren cried, wrapping BigB up in a hug that threatened to squeeze the life out of him. But he wasn’t complaining. He couldn’t be. Grinning ear to ear with a barely contained joy that he was so pleased to see Ren was sharing. He did like him after all. Maybe he would be loyal to him. Maybe being soulmates would change that. He took a moment to revel in the utter joy of being in Ren’s arms before he let him go and took a stumbling step back, still reeling a bit.

“Oh, what a beautiful day!” Ren was yelling while BigB was just utterly lost for words.

Cleo and Scott were muttering something about their soulmates but BigB was just zoned out of the whole scene, so utterly focused on Ren’s grin. For him. Beautiful, sweet, loyal Ren was grinning because he was so happy to be BigB’s soulmate. And there was no boogeymen, no red mania tearing them apart. They could be happy here, for as long as they both lived, this could be their chance. And who wouldn’t grin at that.

His hope had paid off.

And the frog had been right after all.

Grian stopped walking to dejectedly wipe the sweat off his forehead. The sun was beating down on their little group and the mountain was quite steep. They were almost at the top now, thank void.

“Right,” he called to the rest of the group trudging up towards him, “I think, time to set up a base.”

He’d been looking around at the position, near enough to the world border, near enough to the water to  provide a fairly solid food source even if he couldn’t get livestock at this point. He reckoned it was a decent location to get set up.

Joel reached him, reaching his hand out for the flask of water Grian was drinking from which he reluctantly handed over, reminding himself it was better to make friends than enemies at this point. Especially with someone like Joel.

“I love how he’s not noticed yet,” he snickered, glancing back at Scar who gave them both a weary thumbs up.

Joel giggled stupidly but Grian just sighed. He’d been trying to block out Scar. As if he could just stay in denial, rewind to last night and never find out who his soulmate was.

“Not noticed?” Etho frowned, arriving next to Joel who casually handed him the water flask making Grian roll his eyes.

“That them two,” Joel clarified, nodding his head toward Scar, who still hadn’t reached them.

The thing was, Grian thought miserably, taking the flask back from Etho absent mindedly, he actually had wanted someone. He’d wanted, for the first time, he’d actually wanted to fall in love. Because double life was built around love, it was a world that fostered it. And that could be the foundations of a relationship that could actually make him happy.

Not Scar.

Scar couldn’t make him happy. Maybe he could have once, in a long-forgotten desert haze, maybe the person Grian was back then, maybe he would have been ecstatic about this. But the person he was now just felt hurt and panicked. He could feel all the familiar feelings of anxiety and love and grief that accompanied him and Scar washing over him. He didn’t want it. He didn’t want this. Grian knew he had a habit of running from his problems. Or killing them. Neither would be possible here.

He would have to figure out a third option.

“Set up a base?” Scar asked, startling Grian with his sudden appearance right behind him.

“Where are you gonna base Scar?” Grian tried to make the comment sound off handed, curious. As if his answer wasn’t entirely dependent on Scar’s.

“Well,” Scar grinned, leaning forward on his cane. Grian could have groaned if he wasn’t making such an effort to be emotionless toward him. He knew that grin. “I was thinking about on top of the pillager outpost because Etho said…”

“That sounds like a horrific idea!” Grian objected, cutting him off and continuing walking. He tucked the flask back into his pocket.

“That sounds like a good place for a base,” Joel nodded, coming to walk alongside Grian and shooting him a wink. He groaned. The last thing Scar needed was encouragement.

“What if we all did it together?” Scar suggested enthusiastically, hurrying after Grian in small bounding steps.

“That sounds horrific,” Grian repeated firmly, “On many levels because…”

“No, no, no,” Scar began over him.

“You could fall to your death. You could pillager yourself to death,” He insisted before Scar could start with his sales pitch. He stooped to collect seeds from the grass, angrily shoving them into his pockets.

“But Scar’s the master of MLG water buckets so there’s no chance he’ll fall to death,” Joel goaded, sitting not too far away from Grian in the grass and smirking in a way Grian might describe as evil if he hadn’t spent the past months in meetings with evil.

“No, no!” Grian quickly protested, “Don’t do that this season Scar!”

He quickly quietened himself, wondering if he was going too far. Surely Scar would notice that and he wasn’t sure he wanted him to know just yet.

But Scar just obliviously jumped to his feet, “What if I tried it?” he suggested enthusiastically, tucking his cane into his belt and pulling out his water bucket with an evil sort of grin.

Grian groaned, “You’re playing with someone else’s life. You know?”

He wondered again, if Scar would notice that hint. Combined with all the clues Joel was giving, surely. But he seemed to completely miss it. And the mischievous part of Grian wanted to see just how far he could go without Scar noticing.

“Look, look Scar just jump off here, now.” Joel offered, also jumping to his feet and pointing to a small drop off to a relatively flat piece of hill down below. It wasn’t too far but Grian could see the mischief lighting up in Joel’s eyes, the way he kept shooting grins at Grian.

“Do one for us now I wanna see.”

He was doing this on purpose and if he knew Joel, he wasn’t going to stop at a small drop off. Nor was Scar.

“I- uh no,” Grian spluttered but Joel was on a mission.

“Just a cheeky little one like this.”

“Just a little one,” he conceded, thinking maybe if Scar failed that one he wouldn’t try one any bigger, “A zero danger one.”

“Hoy, hoy,” Scar yelled as he jumped, splashing the water at the last minute, admittedly quiet impressively, “Yeah! Bam!”

“He did just prove me wrong,” Grian muttered before hearing Scar exclaim,

“Let’s take it up a notch!”

“No, no let’s not step it up a notch!” Grian called after him, shocked that Scar still hadn’t noticed how much care he was giving to his safety. Had he not noticed that in last life he was more than happy to let him do whatever he wanted? Or was he still stuck in thinking Grian never stopped caring about him.

Void, he was so angry. Why did it have to be Scar??

“Whooo!” Scar jumped again and Grian cringed in the split second waiting for the impact. And this time it did come, buckling his knees.

“Ow,” Scar said dejectedly, “Okay well.”

“Didn’t feel like you nailed that one!” Grian called at him as he climbed back up to where the rest of them were shaking their heads at him, Joel cackling.

“I sometimes get clipped on the corners,” he justified wildly, apparently still deaf to all of Grian’s comments, “So,” he shrugged, “That was my bad.”

Oh void, Grian thought miserably, this was going to be exhausting.

“So who’re we looking for?” Cleo asked as she hauled herself up to ground level. “We’re looking for Martyn and Pearl?”

“Yup,” Scott nodded, offering them a hand.

They got to their feet, making a futile effort to brush off the cave dust that was caked into their clothing. They really needed to find  a place to live. But they had been intending to find their soulmate before settling down. Maybe they needed to rethink that plan a little.

“Right,” she nodded as they set off in the opposite direction from the cave. The night was cooler than she’d expected without the earthy humid heat of the cave. The cool air was a relief for the first few minutes as they set off but soon had them shivering and wishing they’d arrived with a jumper. She’d have to make one later and it would be a right pain.

Scott beside them seemed unbothered by the weather, by the world. But they noticed the tight grip he kept on his sword, the way his breathing, oddly loud in the still and empty night, was carefully measured and controlled.

Anyone else might assume Scott was nonchalantly above everything going on. But Cleo knew him. They knew he was barely keeping it together.

Eventually, they ran into Scar and Grian, cooing over a frog. There were a round of hello’s that Cleo wasn’t particularly interested in. Scott and Scar talked about Scar’s allay which she had to admit was absolutely adorable. But she was watching Grian, the way he watched Scar carefully, calculating his every move just in case. She could guess the only reason he’d watch someone that way.

“Are you,” she asked, raising an eyebrow at Grian who turned away, suddenly very interested in the grass, “Are you an item?”

Neither said anything. Grian was suddenly fascinated in collecting the seeding grass while Scar watched him with a vague smile.

“A what?” Scar said at last, glancing up at her with a frown.

“How did that happen?” Scott tutted, smirking at the two of them.

“Are you a pair?” Cleo repeated, staring down Grian, trying to gauge a response. But he just darted off to the next plume of grass, petulantly ignoring the whole situation.

His silence answered the question better than whatever lie he would have conjured in response.

“Does he have an item on him?” Scar frowned, hurrying to his allay, apparently assuming that’s what they were talking about.

Scott and Cleo exchanged a glance, raised eyebrows in raging scepticism. Scar and Grian were paired and for some reason, neither were acknowledging it.

Very on brand for them, to be fair.

“Okay he does,” Scar sighed in relief as Grian shook his head at him, “He keeps dropping his item and I keep having to refill it,” Scar sounded a little tired but he was smiling at his allay like it was the world. Grian was glaring at him now.

“It’s mini by the way,” Scar grinned.

“Are you two a pair?” Grian piped up for the first time all conversation, acting like the last two minutes hadn’t happened at all. Scar didn’t seem to notice but Cleo and Scott were both acutely aware that something odd was happening.

Joel had said Scar and Grian were paired. Neither of them fully trusted Joel of course but the fact that the two of them were hanging out had pretty much confirmed it. But Joel had also said Scar didn’t know. Was that still true? Could it be? Why did he think Grian was just hanging around him, watching him like a helicopter parent?

“No,” Cleo and Scott both replied at once, shaking disappointed heads and slumping tired shoulders.

“We think our pair must be Martyn and Pearl,” Scott explained as Grian hummed and went back to the grass.

At which point Scar hit Scott in the shoulder and his dog bared his teeth, beginning to bark angrily and everyone yelled and Scar screamed and ran as Scott cried, “Sit!” at his dog who reluctantly obliged, still glaring at Scar.

The group began to bicker light heartedly, the conversation coming in waves as Grian gleaned seeds and Scar watched him, Scott leant against his sword and Cleo sat in the grass.

Eventually, Cleo made eyes at Scott like, 'we have to leave' but he was distracted as he turned away wincing.

“Oh that’s probably my ally,” Scott muttered with a calmness that masked fury winding his hand tightly around his sword. He didn’t let the pain show in anything more than a slight wince and stood up straight, sliding his sword back into his belt and raising his eyebrows at Cleo like ‘we’re going’.

She got begrudgingly to her feet as Scott dug his food out of his bag and sighed, “Right we’re going to go. And try to find them. Erm,” He glanced concerned at his dog whom Scar was still making fairly futile attempts to woo. “We’re gonna, Scar you better start running now cos, the wolf is gonna start attacking you.”

“The dogs coming,” Cleo nodded, smirking through the whole sentence but watching in amusement as their words alongside Scott’s startled Scar a little who glanced at the dog and then back at the two of them.

Grian laughed and his smile made Cleo wonder why he hadn’t told Scar they were soulmates. He definitely didn’t seem to know, but it was clear from half a mile away he was head over heels for Grian. And vice versa

“Come on, Scar,” he shook his head, with a fed-up affection and turned around to leave.

“I’m running! I’m running!” Scar called, bounding to catch up with his soulmate.

Cleo watched in dismay as his allay flew off with him. It was really cute and they really wanted it. But it would probably only be a pain in the ass anyway.

“I’m sad it wasn’t us Cleo,” Scott mused as they head off again. Cleo let out a suffering sigh. She’d had enough of traipsing around the server. They wanted to settle down, to have a house and a reliable source of food. To be able to sit down, maybe sleep for a bit.

“I know,” they said through their sigh, “That would have felt like a nice circle of-”

They reached a hill just large enough to give her an excuse to pause as they both slowed to make their way down. She wasn’t really sure how she wanted to end that sentence.

“Trust.”

“The trio last time into the duo that would have been great,” Scott shrugged, effortlessly summarising everything she couldn’t figure out how to say.

They secretly hoped they were paired with Pearl and not Scott. It wasn’t that they had anything against Martyn, not really. It was just that she’d already been an outsider to Scott and Pearl’s thing, even if they’d never said it and they didn’t want to do that again. And they liked Pearl, they knew pearl. They could work with Pearl. They weren’t sure they could say any of that about Martyn.

“That would have been good,” they muttered instead of saying all the things they wanted to.

Impulse had big plans for a nice little house with his soulmate.

Okay, he had a rough idea. But Bdubs was a fantastic teammate in the regard that he seemed fully on board with whatever Impulse threw at him.

Well, Bdubs was a fantastic teammate in most regards.

“I have never in one of these series,” Bdubs mused, leaning against the wall of the cave and watching Impulse mine out their little house in the mountain. He paused for a while, leaving his thought unfinished as he no doubt took himself on a tangent.

“I guess the Crastle,” he shrugged, “I thought a little bit about looks. But everything’s all been defensive.”

It made Impulse grin a stupid little grin that he was going to build a beautiful little house with his soulmate and it might be the first time he’d lived in a beautiful little house in these games.

“You know?” Bdubs sighed.

Impulse suspected he was not-so-secretly going to very much enjoy living in a pretty house that wasn’t at all defensive. Impulse had plans for them to make as few enemies as possible. That was how you survived longer and that was how you had a good time doing so.

“Maybe that’s the key,” Impulse offered with a shrug, “Nobody’s gonna wanna invade…us. If our place looks good!”

He turned around to see Bdubs still leaning at the entrance, watching him keenly.

“Is there potential for invasion?” he asked, concern creeping into his voice and already creasing his purpled face.

“I dunno, well you know how these games go,” Impulse sighed, trying to sound casual about it while a sickening dread settled itself in the pit of his stomach, “Once people start turning red. It’s gets a little wild.”

“People freak out,” Bdubs muttered under his breath, turning to breathe-in the fresh air outside the cave and watching the fog as he sighed.

“But we’ll have each other’s back,” Impulse called from inside the cave “So, we’ll be safe.”

“Right,” Bdubs muttered, but he couldn’t shake the nagging worry building itself a home in his brain. He liked Impulse. Heck, he thought given a little more time he may well love Impulse. But such things were dangerous. And talking about invasion, contingency planning for red mania times, Bdubs couldn’t help but fret as he was harshly reminded where he was. These were death games after all, what place did they have for love.

And he had loved and lost a few too many times.

“You would never turn on me would you?” He asked, turning back into the cave.

Impulse didn’t even look up from his digging as he confidently answered, “Nope!” Then he turned with a smile and said, “You’re life is my life. And vice versa. We gotta, we gotta keep- take care of each other.”

“That’s right, you don’t really have much of a choice do you?” Bdubs laughed, trying to shake the negative thoughts out of his head as he dragged over some wood to build a makeshift doorway.

“I don’t have a choice,” Impulse laughed, “I can’t kill you cos I’d be dead!”

He meant it light-heartedly. Bdubs was sure he did. But he couldn’t help the nagging sensation of horrible thoughts pressing against the wall of his brain telling him Impulse was only here because he had to be. If he had a choice to betray him, he would have already.

“Right,” he made an effort to try to laugh, “Yeah. Yeah you’re stuck.”

It didn’t matter; he told himself. Whatever the reason, he had a teammate who was loyal to a fault. Who had to be. And that was a certain reassurance that made him feel warm inside. Because betrayal couldn’t kill him. Betrayal couldn’t tear him apart.

“We can’t turn.” He said it more for himself than for Impulse, “Okay. Good.”

-

Bdubs left to find water and Impulse found himself on his own again, grinning around him at the tiny little cave like an idiot.

Love makes people really silly; he thought with a laugh before he realised that was exactly that point.

-

Bdubs noticed Impulse had already set up a makeshift bed in one corner and gathered his things to make his own, heart thudding so fast it made him feel ill as blood rushed in his ears. He knew they were ‘soulmates’ but no-one, least of all Impulse, had really defined what that meant. It meant holding hands. It meant kisses on the cheek and cheesy pet names. But did it mean…? Were they partners, boyfriends? Were they married?

Well, he had to find out.

He made over to Impulse’s bed and set up his things right next to it before standing up and turning to look at his soulmate with a careful expression. Impulse was smiling a little but he was also standing very still, his eyes fixed on the beds. The bed.

“Oh,” he said quietly then he glanced up at Bdubs and his smile widened, “Yeah.”

“If that’s alright,” Bdubs said quietly, sitting back on the bed and smiling up at Impulse.

“That’s alright!” his soulmate exclaimed, almost gleefully, crossing the room to settle next to him.

Bdubs reached out and Impulse gladly took his hand. The two of them both looked as though they might burst from happiness, grinning ear to ear.

“That, that,” Impulse laughed, laying back in the bed, on his side facing Bdubs, “That works. I’m comfortable.”

Bdubs lay as well, cosying up to Impulse who made no objection, “Okay,” he sighed in relief, letting out all his pent-up concern and confusion, “Good.”

“I’m comfortable with that as well,” he murmured and the two of them giggled a little.

Their laughter faded as their tired bones practically sunk into the small mess of haphazardly made blankets and pillows that couldn’t really be described as a bed.

“Void, I could fall asleep,” Impulse groaned, sighing as his eyes fluttered closed.

Bdubs hummed, already halfway to unconsciousness.

Neither of the two moved.

-

Impulse woke tired, rubbing his eyes and frowning as he lifted his head. He hadn’t actually expected himself to sleep and was a little surprised to find his eyelids heavy and his throat thick.

“Rise and shine,” called Bdubs from where he was sitting on the floor, sorting his things into piles.

“S’it morning?” Impulse muttered groggily, pushing the blanket off him.

“No,” his soulmate scoffed like he was quite pissed off about that, “It’s hardly been an hour.”

Impulse groaned, pulling himself to his feet and stretching before wandering over to where Bdubs was sitting and wrapping his arms around him, tucking his head into his shoulder.

“Hey,” Bdubs laughed, “good sleep?”

Impulse hummed and glanced up at the random assortment of items littered across the floor, “What’s all this?”

“Stuff!” Bdubs exclaimed helpfully, “That I found on my little exploration.”

"Oh," Impulse mused, sitting back and surveying the piles, "Get anything good?"

“Um okay, any…let’s see,” he frowned around at the stuff, picking through it as if to find something useful. The one thing Impulse didn’t see was a bucket of water. “Oh, I did get cocoa beans!” He reached out and grabbed a handful of little brown seed looking things. Impulse vaguely wondered how they were supposed to be planted. Didn’t they grow on trees or something?

“This is great,” he laughed because he was starting to see what had happened here. He sat back and watched Bdubs put the beans in a chest, muttering something about growing them later.

“This hap- this is, okay!” He laughed, shaking his head as Bdubs grabbed another pile of stuff to put in the chest with the cocoa beans. “I’m learning a lot about you today.”

Bdubs laughed incredulously and raised an eyebrow that clearly questioned what exactly Impulse meant by that.

“So, send Bdubs out for bucket of water he returns with everything but a bucket of water.” He meant it light heartedly, jokingly but he felt a tinge of regret at the concerned look on Bdubs’ face. What if he thought he was being harsh?

“Ohhh,” Bdubs groaned, burying his head in his hands, “Dang it I forget the water!”

Impulse lost it laughing, his stomach seizing up with the effort of it, “I knew it,” he shook his head.

“No!” Bdubs laughed and shattered the joke, shaking his head and grabbing his hand, “No I got the water come on!”

He dragged him outside to the farm where their little pond had gotten a lot bigger.

“Okay, okay,” Impulse conceded as the two of them lost it laughing, grinning at each other.

“I will admit,” Bdubs sighed, leaning a little into Impulse who wrapped an arm around him, “I did forget. I asked myself a couple times, why am I out here?”

They both just smiled at each other although Impulse had to scowl a little bit at the dark sky. He missed the sun. He didn’t want to deal with monsters anymore.

“I love it,” Impulse sighed, taking a deep breath of the night air. It wasn’t what he wanted to say. Not even close.

"I love you," Bdubs grinned and Impulse's heart leapt, skipped five beats and came crashing back into rhythm against an aching chest. Leave it to Bdubs to have the guts to say what he didn't.

"I love you too."

Grian chased after Scar all the way to Bdubs and Impulse’s mostly because they both badly needed to sleep and he didn’t want to raise the idea of a base with Scar again in case one of two things happened. Either he realised they were soulmates, or he spouted his nightmare of a plan about the pillager outpost again and Grian had to find an increasingly creative way to shut it down.

Besides, Impulse and Bdubs didn’t seem too perturbed to have them there.

-

Impulse rushed to greet them, fending off creepers that almost killed Grian. He seemed incredibly unbothered, running off after Scar who called, “Thankyou Impulse!” his voice trailing off as he hurried up the hill toward Bdubs. Impulse supposed if the two of them were actually paired, Grian had his hands full making sure Scar didn’t get himself killed.

-

“Hey Bdubs!” Scar called, rushing up to him as Bdubs made his way out of the cave. He spotted Grian behind him, trudging after him.

“Oh could it be?” he gasped in a resigned sort of way. He wasn’t really that surprised. He had been joking when he’d last seen Grian, sure. He hadn’t actually expected them to be paired, sure. But he wasn’t entirely surprised that they were. Of all the people on the server he could have guessed were fated soulmates…

Well, after maybe Martyn and Ren, Grian and Scar were absolutely top of his list.

“What?” Scar asked, his face a picture of confusion as he frowned and tilted his head at him.

“Is it true?” Bdubs insisted conspiratorially.

“True what?”

Scar still sounded confused. Were they not paired? Were they just hanging out together? Or did Scar just not realise that him and Grian being paired was an event worth talking about?

“I’ve done a full circuit of the map,” Grian came up, smirking cruelly as his eyes swept over the rickety pillar of wood that was currently making the entrance to their cave, “And the base progress…is. incredible.”

His voice was dripping with sarcasm and Bdubs quickly forgot about whatever was going on between him and Scar.

“Come on now!” he yelled, a little harsher than he probably needed to, “We’re going ultra-modern mid-century!”

-

“I need a nap guys,” Scar muttered, tucking himself up in what Grian assumed was Bdubs and Impulse’s bed but just looked like two pillows and a couple of blankets on the floor that now had a Scar curled up under one of them.

Grian couldn’t help a little smile at how entirely Scar it was to just walk into someone’s house and immediately curl up for a nap in their bed. Especially when Bdubs was still shouting at Grian. Although Scar didn’t yet realise their reputations were linked.

That might become an issue.

He also couldn’t help the allure of the blankets, the pillows, the prospect of lying down. He hated the idea of falling asleep in someone else’s house. Without walls, without defences. Anyone could walk in. And he wouldn’t be able to defend himself.

Green days, he told himself sternly.

Besides, he wanted desperately to be as uncaring as Scar to just sleep in someone else’s bed. It wasn’t how you made friends, but it was how you cultivated a healthy amount of fear.

He set down his sword and lay against the wall, closing his eyes for the briefest of moments. He was all too aware of Scar next to him, curled on his side facing him. He knew exactly how soulmate-y they looked right now. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Would people think they were on good terms? If they did, should he maintain that delusion? Would it benefit them?

“I need a nap,” Scar mumbled in his sleep and Grian couldn’t help but laugh. Suddenly, Scar’s head was on his shoulder, he could feel the slowing rise and fall of his breathing. His heart leapt in panic and he tried desperately to calm it. Scar could probably feel his breathing too and he hated that. He hated the idea of someone else being able to feel his panic. He couldn’t hide it.

And he couldn’t stop panicking either. Because he could smell the familiar scent of dirt and sweat and Scar. It smelt like home. He could feel all his old instincts rushing back to him. The urge to reach out and stroke Scar’s hair, to take his hand, to press a kiss to his forehead.

“I feel like Bdubs’ face right now,” Scar sighed, his voice almost in Grian’s ear.

Suddenly his eyes were wide open and he stood abruptly, not caring how Scar’s head fell onto the pillow. He just stood there, staring at Bdubs and Impulse who were both staring concerned at him.

Fucking dammit.

So much for not showing anyone he was panicking.

Scar didn’t even move, making sleepy noises into the pillow. Grian forced a laugh and an affectionate smile at Scar, but it made his heart burn with a pain he couldn’t place. Maybe it was Scar’s. But he doubted it. It took all his effort not to sob.

Void, he was such a mess.

-

Bdubs didn’t know what was going on with Scar and Grian. He just knew that he didn’t want to get involved. Whatever it was wasn’t going to end well for anyone but maybe if he could just stay out of it…

Suddenly Scott was at the door, doing a little knock-knock on the makeshift wooden doorway. Grian moved from the bed to stand in the corner, grabbing his sword from where he’d abandoned it.

“Look at you two,” Scott cooed, coming inside  with a smirk and without waiting for a response.

“Hey!” Impulse said with an easy-going smile that made Bdubs want to kick everyone out and kiss him.

“with your little base, you’ve got your crops,” Scott continued, “That’s good.”

Cleo came in after him with an “Aww,” that matched his only half teasing tone.

It was all very sweet, but Bdubs could practically feel the room vibrating with jealousy.

“We’re settling in,” Impulse offered with a tired nod.

“We’re in love,” Bdubs added and was pleased to see how that made Impulse turn bright red and grin from ear to ear.

“Yup!” Impulse came to sit next to him on the bed, taking his hand, “Turns out we’re soulmates.”

There was a round of “aw’s” that the two of them were quite used to be now.

“I could have suspected,” Cleo said sweetly which made Impulse want to burst. Because Cleo knew Bdubs well. And Impulse never would have suspected but the fact that they would have made him think maybe him and Bdubs made more sense than he thought.

“I can tell how much you’re in love just by looking at Bdubs face,” Scott teased in a fake sweet tone. He never was one to pass up the opportunity for an insult. Or a joke, Impulse supposed, depending on how you saw it.

There was a round of laughter that suggested most of the room saw it as a joke and Scott continued, “Get someone who looks at you the way Bdubs looks at Impulse.”

Another round of laughter that Grian and Scar actually joined in on this time. The two of them were leaning against separate walls, glancing at each other when they thought the other couldn’t see. It was a stark contrast to Bdubs and Impulse tangled up on their bed and Scott and Cleo standing right next to one another with their arms linked. Were they paired?

“This was not from me!” Impulse quickly clarified, “Don’t get the wrong idea.”

The laughter was cut off by Bdubs who was gazing lovingly into Impulse’s eyes stating very clearly for all the room to hear, “I would die for you.”

Impulse wasn’t sure at this point how he hadn’t combusted. Or how he resisted the urge to make out with Bdubs in front of everyone.

“He will die for you literally,” Scott clarified, scoffing out a laugh.

“He’s good at that,” Cleo teased, making a sort of warning eye contact with Impulse, “Believe me.”

That earned them an affectionate smile from Bdubs and a laugh from Impulse who was quite sure if anyone, it would be him to kill the two of them.

Have you seen Martyn or Pearl?” Scott asked right before a practical shudder of pain racked his body and he had to grit his teeth to keep from screaming. Even so, he wasn’t sure he entirely hid how much it hurt from the room.

Fuck his soulmate.

He muttered something about soulbinds in explanation that he barely registered. The pain finally subsided a little, leaving tears in his eyes and an ache in his jaw from his gritted teeth that he carefully unclenched.

“We’ve narrowed it down,” he said in a tone that he took consideration to measure, “And me and Cleo are pretty sure ours are Martyn and Pearl but we just need to find them.”

“Uhuh,” Bdubs nodded thoughtfully, getting up from the bed and standing checking the doorway. He’d just realised Grian had left and wanted to check he wasn’t stealing their crops. Scar to his credit, was still inside and it had Bdubs wondering if he seriously didn’t know they were paired.

“Haven’t seen them in a while,” Impulse shrugged but he was pretty sure he hadn’t seen them since the very start. Wait, hadn’t they been round to trade at some point? He’d forgotten, the days already slipping away from him.

A wave of panic washed over him. This lifetime was going to be good. He couldn’t let it slip away.

Joel and Etho had seen the crops from a distance. A base, like a little beacon in the distance with it’s torched up light and the wheat perfectly silhouetted. Joel couldn’t help but scoff. It was like they were asking for him to take it.

And he wasn’t about to listen to the bullshit Scott had spouted about ‘you’re not even red lives’ when they’d stolen from Ren. There were no rules of the games limiting stealing to only red lives. You could pillage without the red mania. Hell, you could kill without the red mania if you had the stomach. Though, that was against the rules and though there were few things Joel Smallish beans was afraid of. The unbridled fury of Grian’s watcher side was one of them. And though he was less frightened than Jimmy of their brother’s unfortunate nature, it still wasn’t something he wanted to actively provoke.

But if the rule hadn’t been there, Joel had no doubt he wouldn’t hold back from killing people even on his green life. Others might have been concerned about what kind of person that made them. To Joel, it just made him a winner. Or it should. If these games weren’t stupid and rigged.

Joel told people he was not a petty person. Not because he believed it, but because he found it entertaining to lie to people.

Etho, as it turned out, was not the good influence he’d feared he’d try to be.

“Oh look Joel!” he whispered although there was no-one else around. They were after all, running through a field in the middle of the night, “There’s some wheat we can raid!”

Joel was growing to like hanging out with Etho.

“Where, where, where, where?”

“Up ahead!”

That’s when he saw it, the little beacon of light and wheat promising free bread for all. He grinned maniacally at Etho who’s eyes lit up and though it wasn’t possible to tell if he was grinning behind his mask, Joel liked to believe he was matching his level of evil villain smirk.

They came in quietly and stole the few rows of wheat that had grown fully, listening to Scott inside Bdubs and Impulse’s house bang on about soulmate pairings. Joel had to resist the urge to yell at him to shut up.

Instead, once the wheat was harvested and replanted, he jumped down from the hill where the farm was and marauded inside, grinning at the little group that had congregated inside.

“Joel was just probably taking your crops,” Scott shrugged and Joel wanted to punch him, “just so you’re aware. He does that.”

There was a barrage of outraged noise as everyone made for the door and Bdubs stuck his hideous beat up face up in Joel’s.

Fucking Scott.

The only person who seemed entirely unbothered was Scar in the corner, casually using Bdubs and Impulse’s furnaces.

Joel only saw a flash of him before he ducked out of Bdubs cornering and ran for the door, grinning to himself.

“Give me the crops back Joel!!” Bdubs screamed after him.

“Etho let’s run!” he yelled, clambering up the hill.

Scott was mumbling dejectedly about something Joel couldn’t even begin to understand and probably didn’t want to. Cleo was giggling. Etho just shrugged, seeming more than happy to run away.

“Go! Go! Go!” he cried, more just for the bit than anything because Bdubs was already begrudgingly moving on to clearing creepers. He lingered on the hill just in case, watching everyone else below.

The group were chatting in pairs and three’s as everyone ate. Impulse and Bdubs made a valiant effort to keep monsters away like the good hosts they were. Joel thought if people turned up at his house in the middle of the night he wouldn’t be nearly as kind.

Joel wasn’t really as interested in Scott and Cleo’s search for their soulmates as everyone else. They’d find them and whatever combination ended up coming to be, it would work fine. He was more interested in the absolute trainwreck of a soulmate pairing that was Grian and Scar. He wanted to know if Scar still didn’t know but he had a feeling he’d missed the big reveal. He had to know surely, with Scott and Cleo talking nonstop about how they’d narrowed it down. He must realise that he wasn’t being included in that right?

He locked eyes with Grian who was sitting dejectedly near the wheat farm with his sword and the man grinned, getting to his feet and making his way up the hill, past where his soulmate was talking to Bdubs, something about cookies that Scar seemed far too interested in.

“Does he-” Joel whispered but was almost immediately cut off by Grian.

“He doesn’t-”

“How can he…!”

“I don’t-”

“What?”

“I don’t know!!”

They exchanged in whispers that were so high pitched they were almost squeals, grabbing each other’s arms and laughing into each other’s shoulders.

“What the heck,” Joel snorted and the two of them noticed Impulse staring at their little giggling exchange and turned around, letting each other go and standing nonchalantly, trying to pretend like they were talking about absolutely nothing interesting.

Joel had a feeling Grian was doing better at that than he was with his barely contained laughter. Bdubs was staring at them too now and Scar was pointing out some mountain in the distance, unaware that no-one was listening to him. Joel almost felt bad.

“Wait so there’s no exposed mountains except the one you found Grian?” Scar asked turning back to Grian who somehow kept it together, sounding almost tired as he explained, “Yeah, it’s that one over there.”

“Wait Jimmy’s there!” Joel grinned excitedly, spotting the bright yellow glow in stark contrast against the surrounding greenery, “I’m gonna go laugh at him for dying.”

Grian agreed to show Scar to the goat mountain.

Scott and Cleo continued on their search for soulmates who didn’t care.

Bdubs took Impulse’s hand sighing as the two of them made their way down the hill to where people were still congregating near their base.

Joel, closely followed by Etho, made his way down to where Jimmy was floundering after his death, to mock and in typical Joel fashion, to make everything worse when it inevitably came back round to bite him in the ass.

Chapter Text

“Oi idiot!” Joel ran down the hill, half-tripping the whole way, grinning with excitement that he got to bully Jimmy. It was one of his favourite hobbies. “Oi! Idiot!”

“Yellow name!” Etho joined in, much to Joel’s delight. Good. He didn't want a soulmate that wouldn't join in with whatever he happened to be pulling.

“Hello?” Jimmy poked his head out from a tree he was hiding behind and smiling when he saw them.

Joel made it to him and staggered to a stop, steadying himself with a hand on his brother’s shoulder as he pissed himself laughing at him. Jimmy's smile slipped away like it had never even been there.

“You died,” he wheezed and Jim turned away irritatedly, scoffing at Joel’s immaturity as if he didn’t match it tenfold. “Oh dear,” Joel continued to laugh.

“Have some sympathy for me!” Jimmy snapped and Joel realised he was actually quite cross. “I did nothing!” he threw his hands about in frustration, “I stood there! I stood there and just got blown up!”

Bdubs made it over to them and sighed with the sympathy Jimmy was demanding, “So sorry.”

Joel just cackled. Of course Jimmy’s soulmate was somehow dying more than him.

“And I just went over to get my stuff,” he continued, glaring at Joel, “And it’s all gone!”

Everyone groaned and tutted in sympathy and Joel just rolled his eyes. He supposed they’d already moved on from laughing at him. Even Etho offered, “Is there anything we can do for you?”

Joel fished about in his pockets, eventually procuring a handful of mangrove roots that were just about the most useless thing he’d picked up. He had to admit he did feel a tinge of sympathy. There was nothing Jim could have done after all. And that idea was a little terrifying even to him. If he was going to die, he wanted it to be because of his own stupidity not anyone else’s. But he wasn’t sympathetic enough to give Jimmy anything other than his pocket junk.

“Here Jimmy,” he called, holding out the roots, “I’ve got some mangrove roots you can take.”

“Yes!” he grinned, taking it giddily like Joel was handing him diamonds, “I will- I’ll take anything.”

“It would have been tough to get those sticks and wood back,” Bdubs teased and Joel grinned, appreciating the spirit.

“Hey, no I had everything,” Jimmy groaned, dragging his hands down his face, “Full iron gear, I had everything-” he cut himself off with a cry and looked up somehow even angrier than before, “Tango’s in pain right now!” he snapped exasperatedly, “Tango stop!”

He let the last word turn into a little bit of a sob, putting his head in his hands and Joel almost felt bad but Jimmy looked up with an exasperated smile and everyone laughed.

“He’s always in pain!”

“He’s still looking for his soulmate?” Bdubs frowned, clearly confused as to why the two of them weren’t running the server together like everyone else.

Joel frowned at Bdubs who was leaning a little on Impulse.

“Wait are you two teamed up?” Joel closed the gap between them and punched Bdubs in the shoulder so that he stumbled away from Impulse who also winced.

“Yeah they are,” Jimmy mumbled, sorting through his fairly limited items.

“Sorry it’s just my way of testing,” Joel shrugged, grinning because this whole soulbound thing really gave him an excuse to punch a lot of people.

“You could’ve just asked!!” Bdubs snapped as Impulse laughed.

The two of them made an odd pair, Joel decided. Bdubs got angry and vengeful and Impulse was all forgive and forget. The same thing had happened with the crops. He wondered how that would go later once people started making enemies. Maybe he’d already made an enemy out of Bdubs. Oh well. They weren’t here to make friends.

“Yeah but it’s more fun to punch you,” he shrugged, glancing around for Etho who had disappeared off somewhere.

“Um, I need to go back to spawn,” Jimmy piped up, chucking his pack onto his bag and standing up straight, “Which way is it? Does anyone know?”

Etho was not too far off under a tree. He seemed safe enough.

“I think straight this way,” Bdubs gestured, one hand on Jimmy’s shoulder as he pointed over the mountain.

Joel was far too distracted by a startling burning pain that affronted his face and arms, accompanied by the distant sound of a creeper explosion.

“ETHO!?” he screamed, turning around to see his soulmate leaning against the tree, the debris of a creeper explosion around him. “Careful!!”

“Are you with Etho, Joel?” Bdubs called after him as he ran toward his partner, the pain of the burns slowly subsiding in the way soulbound pain tended to.

“Yeah and he just made me almost pass out,” Joel screeched, making it to where Etho was now setting down a crafting table, “Eat!”

“I got distracted,” Etho shrugged, by way of an excuse and Joel just rolled his eyes. His anger fairly quickly subsided as he saw an enderman in a boat and grinned, “Oh you got an enderman nice.”

He pulled out his axe and swung at the creature as it tried to get it’s head untangled from the leaves, little purple particles drifting in the air, glowing through the night. It was trying desperately to teleport out of the boat Etho had managed to trap it in but didn’t know how.

Joel hit it with the axe and it shrieked, shaking a little more intensely and locking eyes with Joel. It’s unhinged jaw made him shiver a little; he'd never liked endermen. He swiped at it again, hoping absentmindedly that it would give him a pearl.

“I almost looked at him right after that happened,” Etho shook his head as he searched through his things, letting Joel handle the enderman.

In retrospect, a very bad idea.

Joel’s axe swung the third time round and completely missed the creature, splintering the wood of the boat it was trapped in. His eyes shot wide and suddenly the creature was right next to him, glaring at him with all it’s fury as a sharp pain seized his body.

“I broke the boat!” he screamed, turning to run and almost immediately getting bashed in the face by the tree. He tried to push through it, screaming for Etho.

“Sheild! Sheild!” Everyone was yelling but there was too much going on and Joel was still in the seizing convulsing pain of the enderman’s attack. He just screamed, making some effort to push it into a boat and absolutely failing.

Fuck.

He stopped thinking about anything other than the pain, the world spinning as every nerve in his body lit on fire and he screamed. He couldn’t hear Etho, only the creaking screech of the enderman.

Then there was nothing.

There wasn’t him, or Etho, or an enderman. There was no world. Just the empty expanse of the void.

Then the world crashed into him with a sharp clarity, the bright green of leaves and grass illuminated in the moonlight. Shit. He pulled himself out of a fairly uncomfortable slump on the branch of a large oak tree. He saw Etho in the tree across from him, jumping down and brushing a leaf out of his hair. Joel felt the tree scrape him on the way down and chose to stay in his tree until the pain subsided a little.

Joel couldn’t tell if the two of them were crying or laughing. He suspected it was somehow both.

Etho made his way over to his tree and Joel jumped down, grabbing Etho’s shoulder to steady himself a little.

“I’m so sorry,” he cried, frustratedly grabbing a fistful of his shirt.

“I think we need to have a little talk,” Etho sighed as Joel began to pace, his boundless energy that had been gone momentarily in shock after their death came crashing back too.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

“So I messed up first,” Etho began, and Joel thought that was a little generous, “But I think you messed up wayyy worse there.”

There it was.

Joel couldn’t bring himself to say anything, just half giggling half sobbing and running back and forth, wishing he could erase the past five minutes from existence.

He realised with a startling clarity that he didn’t want to be red. He didn’t want the mania. He feared it.

Maybe Joel was wrong. Maybe there were many things he was afraid of.

Then the panic began to set in because they’d died. And they were now a few days in and had been set right back to the start. That was bad. That was really so, so bad.

“I think I did,” he rushed through his words, anxious energy rushing into the mix of adrenaline and confusion that had him already running back and forth, fidgeting agitatedly with his trousers, “Let’s go get our stuff, which way was it, was it this way?”

“I’ve got no idea where it was,” Etho shrugged helplessly, sounding more resigned than anything.

“oh my gosh!” Joel cut him off. God, he wasn’t being very nice for someone who had just gotten them killed. He really needed to calm down, “Oh no it’s nighttime as well.”

He really wasn’t helping.

“Well,” Etho shrugged, grabbing an apple from a low hanging tree, “Now we know how it works right?”

Joel just groaned and Etho put a hand on his shoulder, laughing as we walked past him.

“Come on. It’ll be morning soon.”

Joel stared after him, grinning a little. He wasn’t mad? He wasn’t about to start screaming, crying, panicking. He was just shrugging it off. Oh well. That happened. Moving on. Stoic and calm where Joel was a panicked mess. He hurried after him.

Yeah, he liked Etho.

Ren watched everyone leave with a quiet satisfaction. He wasn’t about to hide what he wanted. He’d found his soulmate. He wanted to be alone with him. He didn’t think that was an unreasonable ask. And no-one seemed to care beyond obligatory grumbles.

"Let's go before Grian and Scar get there."

"It's dark, great."

The two of them stared after the leaving crowd and then Ren turned theatrically, grinning at BigB who raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"BigB my man," he pulled him into a hug again, unable to contain himself, "What' happening baby?"

"Dude!"

Ren let him go, letting him have his space but not grinning any less.

"I've been searching all day for you," BigB sat down against the wall, he seemed exhausted. Ren suddenly felt quite bad that he hadn't really been out looking for his soulmate so he nodded enthusiastically.

"Oh yeah, me too." It wasn't entirely a lie. He had been looking for his soulmate. Just not that hard.

Ren gave him a hand up and the tour of his cave. It really wasn't much to be impressed by but it felt fitting. Someone had broken the zombie farm they'd made which almost killed them. He started talking about the possibility of a farm, a base. He assumed that was what they were supposed to be doing.

"I have zero food," BigB said at last, explaining tbhe exhausted way he followed Ren around the cave.

"Oh you have zero food?" Ren scrabbled around in his pack until he found some fish. He carefully unwrapped it and handed it to BigB.

"Yeah I was on the way but then I bumped into you-" 

Ren waved away the explanation as he carefully unwrapped the fish and handed it to his soulmate, "Let me hook you up dude, let me hook you up."

"What a legend," BigB gasped, taking it with a grateful smile and leaning back against a wall to eat.

-

“I’ve got a really great idea for a base right?” Ren wrapped his arm around BigB’s shoulders, leading him away from the shadowy corners of the cave, “So,” he paused, losing his train of thinking and staring blankly at the cave wall, “The problem with a base in these games, is that…often they get flanked, from all sides right?”

BigB watched with rapt attention, his gaze fixed on Ren and his head bobbing in agreement. It gave him confidence to broach the subject the two of them had been skirting around. Or at least, he was fairly sure that’s what had been happening.

“If we remember last season at the Shadow Tower, man we got attacked from all different angles!”

BigB just nodded thoughtfully, waiting on Ren’s words for the solution.

Right. So discussing last season was fine. He supposed he’d spoken about it like they’d been on the same team the whole time. We. He shook those thoughts away.

“What if we got a base that actually removes one of the sides completely!” He stared at his soulmate expectantly for a split second before deciding he hadn’t actually explained it enough to gauge a reaction and ploughing on.

“So! Say for example, this dirt,” he tapped against the wall of the cave, covered in a thick layer of dirt that crumbled a bit under his tapping, “is the world border, right?”

“Okay,” BigB took a step forward and leant against the adjacent wall, nodding.

“We build our base,” He hurried off to a large rock sitting nearby and rolled it over with some effort to sit in front of the dirt caked wall, “Like-a so.” He grunted as the boulder refused to move the last meter and BigB jumped up the ledge to help him. He flashed him a grateful smile as they stuck it in place and then stood back panting from the combined effort and the joint toll of both of them feeling each other’s effort too.

“Literally on the world border,” Ren explained, marvelling at his masterpiece of a 3D diagram, “Only one way in, one way out.”

BigB grinned, bumping his shoulder into Ren’s, “This is why I wanted you as my soulmate.”

Ren didn’t even really think about it at first, flinging an arm around BigB’s marauding shoulder as if on instinct, “Hell yeah, baby!”

“Genius!” He sounded genuinely impressed, staring at what was essentially a rock and a wall. And that was why Ren wanted BigB

“That’s what I’m talking about man. Genius base-age.”

He let BigB go and turned to head back further into the cave, calling behind him, “We should do this!”

“Let’s do it,” BigB shrugged as he turned around, “I mean the border’s right around the corner. It’s not that far.”

They locked eyes across the cave and Ren suddenly realised what his soulmate had said about ten seconds before. This is why I wanted you as my soulmate.

He wanted him. BigB had been out there, hoping, wishing for Ren. Out of everyone. Because of last season? He wondered, or in spite of it. He supposed probably both, in a way. Because of how incredible it had been before it went to shit.

But somehow, the knowledge that they weren’t just lumped together, that BigB had actually chosen him as well. It made it feel more special. Screw fate, his soulmate chose him.

“You-” he let the smirk spread slowly across his face and split into a grin, “You said you wanted me as you’re soulmate?”

BigB shrugged, suddenly looking very embarrassed. As if he’d hoped that would just go over Ren’s head and he wouldn’t have to explain himself.

“I dunno. I mean, I know there’s no Lizzy.”

That caused a fresh awkwardness in the silence between them, both their eyes downcast.

“Doesn’t mean there can’t be the two of us,” Ren said a voice so quiet it might have gotten lost had it not been for the windless echo chamber of the cave hole.

“I mean there’s also no bogeyman,” BigB spoke quickly, as if he was afraid of the words being in the air too long, “No red, I mean- you know, if one of us is- becomes red we both become red so there’s no-”

“Yes!” Ren nodded far too enthusiastically, “Yeah, exactly. So it can’t happen like last time.”

And that seemed to be acknowledgement enough for both of them because the silence settled into comfort and the two of them smiled stupidly at one another.

“Shall we base?” Ren asked at last and BigB nodded with a giddy enthusiasm.

“Yeah, absolutely we should base.”

There was a part of Etho that had been hoping he could fix Joel.

He knew all about his curse and it definitely wasn’t the best of things to be bound to. He wondered if it extended to him. He’d felt the red mania of course, but he’d always managed to remain somewhat in control of his actions. Joel could not. Such was his curse. And sure, that would cause problems for Etho because Joel would make nothing but enemies and get himself killed. But did it actually extend to him? Would he not be able to control himself?

He didn’t really want to think about that. Any of that.

So instead, as he watched Joel already manic and insane while he was green, he got the idea in his head that he could fix him. That his calm would be enough to cancel out Joel’s chaos. That he was what Joel needed.

It was a foolish idea really.

They’d managed to get most of their stuff back, which Joel was thrilled put them a peg above Jimmy and Tango and Etho was just quietly relieved about. Bdubs and Impulse had been nice enough to collect it for them, although they did try to keep a few things. Etho didn’t exactly blame them. They’d gone to their house, stole their crops and their beds and left. It wasn’t exactly friendly behaviour. Still, everyone got everything sorted out and Etho felt much better about dying knowing they weren’t starting from scratch. They had only lost their life, not the last few days.

Martyn arrived not soon after on a donkey, with Pearl and what was presumably her dog of the season alongside. Etho vaguely wondered if they were paired before remembering what Cleo and Scott had been talking about when they’d been stealing from Bdubs and Impulse’s wheat farm. They were mismatched right now, two wrong pairs.

Etho made quiet plans with Joel to get the saddle but soon realised that was going to be easier said than done, especially accompanied by his soulmate who was definitely already going more insane on yellow.

“A spyglass?” Etho wanted to start the offers nice and low because he didn’t think Martyn cared that much about the saddle given that he’d put it on a goddamn donkey.

“A spyglass, yeah,” Joel nodded enthusiastically, pulling his out and putting it up to his eye, looking through it at Martyn, “Woohoo!” he called, “That’s what you say right? Woohoo!”

Martyn turned to him with an expression halfway between disbelief and offence.

“Wait we say woohoo?” he scoffed incredulously.

Joel either didn’t pick up that he was wrong. Or didn’t care. Etho was betting on the latter.

“Woohoo!” he probably did it again just to annoy Martyn.

We’re trying to trade with him Joel, Etho thought, somehow more irritated with his soulmate than when he’d gotten them killed.

“Do you know anything?” Martyn snapped, sighing as he put down his spyglass. Etho could have groaned. They were not getting that saddle.

“You know what,” Martyn shook his head, “I’m not gonna sell to either of you just for that alone.”

Joel yelled like that wasn’t going to be exactly the result and Etho rolled his eyes with a sigh. “I’m sorry!” Joel was crying angrily as Martyn shook his head.

“I’m deeply insulted.”

Etho didn’t see why he should have any loyalty to the southlands traditions given how it ended but oh well. Joel had ruined that.

And then, he had to turn away from his conversation with Pearl when she frowned and said, “You’re soulmate is in a boat.”

“My what?” he turned and groaned when he saw Joel, sure enough, sitting in a boat with a chest in it, on land, pushing it very, very slowly by digging the oars into the dirt and pushing. “What is he doing?” he sighed, shaking his head as Pearl laughed.

“Who needs a donkey?” he called, “See ya later Martyn!”

They all watched in dismay as it took the better part of a minute for Joel to get out of earshot.

“Just wait till he has to go up a hill,” Martyn laughed, shaking his head as Joel got to a hill near Bdubs and Impulse’s base and got out of his boat, dragging it up the hill just to get back in it and keep paddling.

Etho stared in utter confusion and a little bit of amused respect. Joel was odd but he owned it. Completely and utterly. Maybe this wasn’t about fixing Joel. Maybe this was just about going along with whatever weird shit his soulmate came up with. Maybe this was about going along with Joel’s carefree insanity and having a good time. Maybe he was just going to live like Joel for a season.

After all, they were soulmates. Joel’s enemies were his. It wasn’t like he had that much choice in the matter.

So, Etho followed Joel, got way ahead of him in his stupid boat and started carelessly farming Bdubs and Impulse’s coca bean tree.

“Can you believe this Martyn guy,” Etho scoffed, “He won’t give up that saddle for anything guys.” Not that he’d really tried that many things. Joel had immediately gotten them banned from trading. But he knew Bdubs and Impulse had tried a lot, so it was a decent conversation starter.

“Oh it’s classic! Isn’t it?” Bdubs yelled, leaning tiredly against their doorframe.

He didn’t seem too bothered really by Etho stealing his beans. He shrugged and leaned against the tree watching as Joel finally arrived and got out of his stupid boat.

“Chest boat!” Bdubs said excitedly, ignoring what Joel was doing with it.

“Chest boat,” Joel nodded thoughtfully, standing still for the longest time Etho had seen him do so, staring at Bdubs, “Nothing in it, look.” He pointed over at the mountain and then dashed to their farm, pulling out their wheat and grinning to himself. Etho watched on with an affectionate laugh.

“Joel! Joel!” Bdubs started yelling at him, making attempts to grab him with Joel dodged, running with his arms full of wheat to the chest boat.

“Quick!” he called, making eyes at Etho and already laughing, “Put it in the chest boat!” he shoved the wheat into the chest, laughing as he clambered into the boat again, “Quick getaway!”

He began to paddle stupidly again, ever so slowly until he hit the hill their base was on top of and went skidding down a bit.

Etho grinned. Joel was an idiot. He was an absolutely ridiculous idiot.

He was also his idiot.

So he made his own boat and the two of them paddled away, laughing their heads off as Joel called, “Speedy getaway!” and Bdubs and Impulse watched in futile anger and confused pity respectively.

“Of course it would be our two that do get the deep dark achievement,” Scott sighed, looking at his communicator as he and Cleo made their way through the forest. They weren’t going anywhere in particular, just traipsing around trying to find their soulmates that were nowhere to be seen.

“Of course,” Cleo agreed, shaking their head frustratedly.

“They’re psychopaths,” Scott muttered, glancing around them with a sigh. They weren’t about to find them and they didn’t have enough food to keep wandering aimlessly with that as their vague goal. The way Scott saw it, they’d done their part and it was up to their soulmates now to put in the effort. Although the way the two of them were eating, or more accurately, weren’t eating, he thought effort might be a foreign concept to them.

“We should form an alliance against them,” Cleo offered, on the exact same wavelength as him. As ever.

Scott snorted as laugh and Cleo joined in, “We just, we just,” he spluttered, “We refuse to pair up with our soulmate and pair up with each other instead.”

He meant it as somewhat of a joke but as soon as he said it out loud, he suddenly realised what a good idea it actually was.

“Yeah, no.” said Cleo with an enthusiastic nod, her tone suggested they were thinking about it just as seriously as he was now, “It seems like it might be the best way to go about it.”

“Honestly I’m kind of down,” Scott shrugged, stopping for a moment to gulp water from his flask. Cleo stopped next to him, raising an eyebrow, waiting for a confirmation.

“It’s just-” he stopped, taking a breath and staring up at the stars, twinkling in the dark sky. He couldn’t see the moon through the leaves and it was making the forest unfortunately dark and dangerous. “I want to find out who’s who.” He finally found the words. They couldn’t keep running about saying ‘their soulmates’. They needed to know who exactly their soulmate pairs were. It seemed relevant. Besides that, he didn’t want to find out by dying. He noticed Cleo frowning at the floor and rushed to add, “And then I’m happy to be like oh well.” He didn’t want them to think that it mattered who he was paired with. Even if it was Pearl. He was still happy to abandon her for Cleo. He needed them to know that.

“And then I’m gonna make a choice,” Cleo nodded and Scott flashed a grateful smile. They were both in understanding then.

The night was somehow a little warmer in the forest than it had been out in the plains. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and Scott felt like the trees  were closing in on him. They walked in a comfortable sort of silene, broken only by the occasional rustle of unseen creatures. Scott was surprised that for the most part, said creatures seemed to stay where they were. They hadn't been attacked at all since they set off. They were making decent pace but not fast enough to stop an attack from being effective certainly.

Scott had decided he didn't want to live in the forest and Cleo had quietly agreed. There was something creepy and awfully claustrophobic about forests. Especially at night.

“Hello?” came Tango’s voice through the silence, startling Scott a little as he spun around, looking for the source of the noise.

“Hello?”

“Hi!”

“Friends?”

“Hi Tango.”

There was suddenly a glow of light up ahead. Scott and Cleo exchanged a glance and made their way up the hill to where Tango stood, a chunk of cobblestone blocking off the entrance to what Scott assumed was a mine built into the side of the hill. The light came from inside and illuminated a small area around the base of the hill.

Tango looked like shit.

He had faded scars of burn marks across his arm, the evidence of his creeper death showing in his yellow life body. His hair was all in his face, a pitiful glow that didn’t match the fiery mess Scott was used to. Whatever the dust that lingered on cave walls actually was, it was smeared across his clothes and skin and his face was droopy, his eyes tired.

“I’m really frightened and naked and nothing and I died and everything’s bad and I’m sad,” he said at the same frantic panicked rate of his breathing.

Scott frowned sympathetically. Tango was a mess.

“Okay Tango-” Cleo began carefully before an arrow hit her foot and she squealed. Scott clocked the skeleton on the hill and sighed. Just what they needed.

Tango quickly shifted the cobblestone and the two of them hurried inside. Cleo put a steadying hand on Tango’s arm as his breathing quickened even more. Scott wasn’t so good at providing comfort so he just lingered by the entrance, moving more cobblestone to block them into the hole.

“Okay, come on into my- this is the sum of my accomplishments so far this season, right here, you’re looking at it.” Tango continued with his fast gushing laughed abashedly, rubbing the back of his head as he looked around the small space. There were tears in his eyes and Scott actually felt a wave of empathy for the guy. Things really weren’t going well for him.

“Are you doing alright Tango?” Cleo asked calmly, with a gentle smile. Scott watched on in a quiet appreciation at how caring and patient they were. He’d forgotten that about them.

“No…” Tango gave a suffering sigh, leaning his back against the wall, “No.”

And then their communicators gave a collective beep, the distinctive two-tone sound of a death message. Scott was the first to have his out, his gasp loud in the small mine.

“Joel was lain by enderman and Etho died!” he read aloud and the other two exclaimed loudly, their voices crossing over each other so he couldn’t hear what either said. Besides, his heartbeat was far too loud in his ears for him to be listening. Joel and Etho. Another death. Already.

People were dropping like flies.

But then again, if it had to be anyone. He was glad it was Joel.

“They were gloating so much and stealing from everyone,” he said with a self-satisfied sort of smirk that felt a bit evil given the circumstances, “So this is great.”

“That’s- that’s perfect!” Cleo agreed and Scott beamed up at her. Screw their soulmates, he was totally teaming up with Cleo.

“By the way, Jimmy, you’re soulmate,” Scott sighed, trying to hide his contempt, “Is the furthest away part from you he could be right now like he’s literally…”

“He’s at the opposite end?” Tango cut him off and Scott nodded, quieting again. He wasn’t helping Tango and talking to him about Jimmy wasn’t helping him.

“Yeah, I have not gotten any sense of the map,” Tango groaned, sitting down and leaning his back against the stone. No wonder he was covered in cave dust. “I’m just wandering…randomly running from witches and squealing. That’s pretty much my- gameplan so far.”

Cleo giggled and placed her hand back on his arm as they sat down next to him, trying to provide comfort. “I’m sorry, Tango.” They muttered gently, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s terrifying.”

They spent the rest of the night there with Tango in the cave, both agreeing their soulmates could wait, since they clearly didn’t want to be found and Tango needed them a lot more. They gave him enough iron to make some boots and pants all while telling him everything about what they’d been up to. Mostly bitching about Joel and their soulmates.

Tango calmed fairly considerably once he had some armour and it was daytime again. The three of them set off in the morning, Scott leading the way to where they’d seen Jimmy before. The forest was admittedly a lot nicer in the morning, all mist clinging to the ground and rays of sunlight filtering in through the trees. The rustle of leaves and birdsong was a perfect white noise to convince him everything was fine.

It felt somewhat like a rite of passage, to him at least, though he was sure no-one else, least of all Jimmy, saw it that way. He was taking Tango to Jimmy. He was reuniting them. Because Jimmy had someone. He had a soulmate. And he hadn’t loved Scott for a lifetime anyway. He’d already moved on and this was Scott showing that he’d moved on too.

Tango and Jimmy reunited with a hug that made Tango’s hair burn a little brighter and Scott’s heart sink. He and Cleo managed to fall straight into several feet of snow, scrabbling and digging their way out as the cold burnt at their skin.

“We’re about to witness a death, Tango,” Jimmy grinned and Scott rolled his eyes.

“Are we?” Tango sounded a little excited which only succeeded in further pissing off Scott.

“No, we’re not,” he scoffed, making his way out of the forest toward the happy couple.

And actually seeing Jimmy for the first time. Scott didn't think his heart could sink any lower but something about Jimmy smiling in the sunlight, grinning up at him with those pretty brown eyes of his...

Get it together Major.

“Okay, okay fine.” Jimmy muttered, only half-sarcastically disappointed.

“We just brought Tango over here!” Scott protested, all riled up now and trying very hard to contain his anger as Jimmy put a casual arm around Tango’s shoulder, “What’re you, why’re you-”

“For you!” Cleo cut him off, marching out of the forest behind him, hands on their hips. Scott appreciated that she was matching his level of self-righteous rage that was probably just being petty about a joke. He was also grateful she'd cut off his spluttering because it really wasn't going to end well he was sure.

“We just- we want more people to die! Alright?” Jimmy said squeakily, holding up his hands in defence, “We just want more yellow lives!”

“Look can I just point out,” Cleo said over the murmurings of Scott and Jimmy that was almost certainly going to turn into a bickering row, “how fitting it is that you’re already yellow.”

She said it with the most condescending tone and smile Scott had ever witnessed and it made him oddly proud.

“Yeah,” Tango laughed as Jimmy went quiet and stared at his shoes, “I’m keeping the trend going. I’m making sure that he’s the first one out.”

Cleo was giggling and Scott was smirking, somewhat sadistically enjoying Jimmy pouting.

“No,” he shook his head, looking up at them all, “No.”

“That’s how it goes Tango,” Scott shrugged, “We need to make sure Jimmy’s the first off this server ever time.”

Jimmy stared daggers at him and Scott honestly couldn’t tell if it was a part of the joke anymore.

“It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to take,” Tango announced, holding a dramatic hand to his chest as if he were swearing an oath. Cleo couldn’t seem to stop laughing.

“Thankyou Tango,” Scott snorted, “Thankyou Tango.”

Pearl found the morning quite the relief, although she missed the stars. The blue morning sky was monotonous, broken up only by the occasional cloud and the beaming sun, the most boring star, in Pearl’s personal opinion.

She and Martyn, who had finally gotten the saddle on his donkey, bumped into Jimmy early that morning, blundering through the forest looking very scratched up and quite tired.

They questioned him in quite some length about his and Tango’s unfortunate death. Pearl couldn’t quite believe he hadn’t even met Tango before it happened. She really hoped that wasn’t how she found her soulmate. As meet cutes went, screaming at each other at spawn wasn’t exactly the way she wanted hers to happen.

“Went to get my stuff,” Jimmy sighed, “It’s all gone so now I am. I am broke. So uh-”

“Oh no!” Pearl gushed, scrabbling around in her pack, “Oh Jimmy, here! Here! Have some iron. That’s okay. Have some of that.”

She handed over about ten ingots and Jimmy stared at her with wide eyes as if he’d never heard of generosity in his life.

“Do you know what?” he beamed, “You are too kind!”

He took them giddily, stuffing them into his pack that did look considerably empty. “Wow,” Martyn noted sarcastically and raised his eyebrows at Pearl who shrugged. She wasn’t entirely sure what compelled her to be so generous. Better to make friends, she supposed.

“And nine pieces too,” Jimmy gushed, shaking his head in disbelief. Then he looked up at Martyn on his donkey and a hush fell over the group.

“Hey Martyn,” Jimmy chirped up excitedly, “Pearl gave me some stuff so…”

“I’m just- I’m just gonna give you a firm handshake,” Martyn told him in mock seriousness, "And wish you well. Thank you very much.”

Pearl couldn’t help but laugh as Martyn rode off on his donkey who reluctantly moved.

“You didn’t even give me a handshake!” Jimmy called after him as Pearl hurried to follow him, both of them laughing as Jim just sighed.

“He’s gonna be a red name by the end of the week,” Martyn muttered.

“Stop! I can hear you!” The whine in Jimmy’s voice made Pearl almost feel bad for him. The poor guy got a lot of flack for always dying first and it really wasn’t his fault.

“I genuinely thought he was out of earshot,” Martyn laughed but Jimmy just trudged off in the other direction, muttering to himself angrily.

-

Pearl didn’t actually care about the saddle negotiations as soon as she spotted the frog. Nor did she care about Bdubs and Impulse making marital decisions about wheat. All she could see was the frog, the beautiful frog. It wasn’t actually doing anything. Just sitting there croaking and hopping occasionally. But she loved it. She was obsessed with it.

She would die for that frog.

“Don’t mind me,” she muttered to Bdubs and Impulse as she squeezed past their farm to get closer to the frog. Just so she could watch it. Just so she could bask in its cuteness. This was the sort of thing she’d missed about the green days. Just being. Getting to enjoy the little things like frogs without having to watch her back constantly or focus on making traps to satisfy the mania building inside her. She liked not being bloodthirsty. It was incredibly calm.

Bdubs didn’t seem so calm, screaming when the frog went near their crops, which just seemed rude to Pearl. He threatened to kill the frog if it trampled the crops and while Impulse laughed it off, Pearl threatened to kill him.

So much for the green days.

Eventually, she realised she should probably move on, build herself a base of some sort. She couldn’t well keep traipsing the server forever and the food situation was really getting dire.

“Okay, well look after the frog,” she called to the pair as she headed up the hill to head off, “Just saying. If I come back and it’s dead, you’re dead.”

“Okay.” Bdubs sounded bored and not really like he was taking her threat seriously, rolling his eyes and focusing all his attention on the precious wheat farm.

She turned back around to him, making direct eye contact and pulling a finger across her throat, “I’ll kill ya,” she muttered, “I’ll kill ya.”

“Okay,” Bdubs repeated but he at least had the decency to look afraid now.

Pearl went back to Martyn who was on a hill overlooking Bdubs and Impulse’s base, which seemed to be where everyone had been hanging out for a while much to the dismay of the couple living there. He was smelting his things from aboard the donkey, not trusting anyone enough to get off it. Pearl supposed everyone knew how these games went and even if they technically shouldn’t have to, they still had to watch their backs. Or at least, their donkey’s backs.

The day wasn’t warm but the sun beat down on Pearl’s neck and she pulled her hood up to cover it, fiddling with a piece of long grass as she watched Etho and Joel, who were apparently soulmates, both sitting in boats, using oars to push themselves along through the grass and unsurprisingly making incredibly slow progress.

“Look those two really are made for each other,” Martyn said, coming to stand alongside her, “Aren’t they? Look at them.”

“Yeah. Look at them, paddling along how cute.”

Martyn’s donkey took off down the hill and Pearl sighed and followed them. She was really quite hungry still and following the donkey, that was a lot faster than her, everywhere wasn’t helping.

“We can tell you two are soulmates,” Martyn laughed as he made his way effortlessly to the pair in their boats who both laughed but didn’t respond, just holding their heads up dramatically as they paddled slowly away. “The chemistry’s real hot,” Martyn continued with a grin, “I’m actually jealous.”

Pearl had to admit she was too. Martyn was great, but he wasn’t her soulmate. And she wasn’t his. Where were their soulmates anyway? Why was everyone finding their pair except the two of them?

“I got a frog Pearl!” Etho called and Pearl noticed it as she made it to them, grinning and panting. It was sitting in the boat looking quite content and she couldn’t help but coo. It was so cute! But it was also in a boat with the boyfriend of a madman.

“I hope I have this with my soulbound,” Martyn sighed and if Pearl weren’t so distracted by the frog she might have been bummed out by that. By how much she related to it. Although she was looking for more of a Bdubs and Impulse vibe than whatever weird shit Etho and Joel had going on. But fortunately, she didn’t think about any of that because she was still very much distracted by the frog.

“Let him live, alright?” she implored, gesturing over at Bdubs and Impulse and only half-lying, “They were gonna kill him over there.”

“We’ll give you the frog for the donkey, a saddle,” Joel said, in typical Joel fashion and Pearl just sighed because it had only been a few days and animals were already being held ransom.

“Don’t do it,” she told Martyn, though she was quite sure he wouldn’t even if she told him to. He was understandably attached to having a saddle. It certainly helped with the food situation.

“Turns out it’s not the frog that I want anyway,” she shrugged, spotting Bdubs staring at her from the hill over his base, “So you can keep him. It’s okay.”

She was fairly sure Etho wouldn’t murder the frog and somewhat sure he wouldn’t let Joel. She knew for a fact Joel would try to kill the fog but oh well. It was Etho’s problem now.

“Okay, I’m gonna go explore a little bit,” she muttered, breaking eye contact with Bdubs and making to leave. Being around this many happy couples was making her miserable and she wanted to go find her soulmate. Besides that, she needed food and she doubted Impulse and Bdubs would give her anymore since she threatened to kill them.

She was quickly proven wrong, barely getting out of earshot of everyone when she was waylaid by Bdubs who traded her food for iron. She didn’t mind. She was starving after all and could barely walk with the exhaustion of not having eaten so, yeah. She’d give away a bit of iron.

She continued on her way after that, heading off in a direction she was fairly sure she hadn't been in before and spending a lot more of the day than she'd meant to chasing goats up a mountain trying to get a horn. The night had come and gone by the time she found company again, the sun stealing the sky from the stars once more and all the forest coming alive with creatures that were less likely to kill her than the ones that roamed at night.

She really had been planning to find her soulmate too. The goat mountain was an unfortunate distraction but she had moved on from it. She could have, at that point, gone on and kept wandering the server, kept asking around, kept an eye out. Really, she should have.

But then Martyn was there, with a portal and a grin and she knew, she knew that the way to find her soulmate was not to go into another dimension with a man she knew wasn’t her soulmate. Logically, she knew that.

But she wasn’t one to refuse an adventure. And she certainly wasn’t one to refuse a friend. Certainly not when he was teasing, “See you in there!” as the portal whisked him away.

She took a moment there in the cave to properly consider the glowing purple allure of a bad idea. Because that’s what this was. The nether? Really? This was a horrifically bad idea. It really was.

But Pearl decided she didn’t care and stepped through after him, feeling the tug of the magic at the very fabric of her existence deepen the pit of dread in her stomach.

What could possibly go right?

The evening wind carried a biting chill and the air was thick with the earthy scent of the forest. Scar, like most everyone else he had spoken to, hadn’t been prepared for how cold this new world would be. He was a little confused that Grian seemed unbothered and vaguely wondered if his soulmate was huddled up by a fire or something. Or maybe the biome they were in was actually warm and Scar was feeling his soulmate’s cold. He didn’t know. But either way, he was shivering up a storm.

Grian and him had been hanging out all day and he couldn’t stop grinning, filled with a boundless chaotic energy that Grian's presence fuelled in him. It was such a dramatic change from the way he had avoided him like the plague for all of last life.

“Give him time,” Joel had said as Scar had complained to him for the hundredth time, huddled up in the wizard’s hut on magical mountain, “Grian likes to hold a grudge. You’ve just gotta hope he loves you enough to get over it eventually.”

And he didn’t blame him, not really. After the way everything went down, of course he should need space and time. Scar couldn’t pretend he wasn’t put off by how things ended between them. Hadn’t woken from nightmares of towering cactus walls closing in on him, scene blurred through a red haze as his partners’ apologies and his blows, rung in his ears.

No, even Scar king of denial couldn’t ignore that.

But that didn’t mean it hadn’t hurt, watching Grian move on from him, ignore him, leave him over and over. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to try to put him in the past. Knowing it was the right thing to do for them both to move on didn’t stop him from wanting to go crawling back. Not that Grian with all his friends, would take him anyway.

And even Scar couldn’t shake the horrible feeling of remembering all of that.

But Grian had spent the whole day with him, hanging out with him, laughing with him, even cuddling with him at Bdubs and Impulse’s place. Maybe it was all momentary. They’d hung out at the beginning of last season too. But today felt nice. It felt like old times. And Scar allowed himself, just for a second as Grian dragged him away from fights and flashed him affectionately exasperated smiles that things could go back. That maybe, just maybe, Grian had time and space and had decided to come back to Scar.

He didn’t even care if they were soulmates at this point, he would defy fate in a heartbeat for Grian.

He reminded himself firmly that those were all very extreme thoughts based on the fact that a friend of his had been hanging out with him a little. He clung onto the hope, but he tried to keep it within reason too.

“Dude, G, do you think you could show me how to get a horn?” he asked pleadingly, practically batting his eyelashes at Grian with a barely contained excitement. “Maybe?”

Also, he really, really wanted a horn.

“Yeah?” Grian shrugged, grinning back at him as he beamed, clapping his hands together and jumping up and down with excitement before rushing to catch up to Grian again.

“Oh, let’s go get a horn!” he cheered, his barely contained excitement now not contained at all as he half-skipped after his friend who led him up to the rocky ledge of the mountain right near the world border.

Scar loved the world border. Not as a principle. The idea of the boxed in limited world made him feel oddly claustrophobic, though he couldn’t distinctly remember what the alternative was. An unlimited world? With unlimited resources? That didn’t sound possible surely. It didn’t stop him from hating the idea of being confined into a tiny space. One where he didn’t have the option to build something huge, to just run for miles and never stop, to disappear into the wilderness and never see anyone again.
He wasn’t sure where any of those ideas came from but he wanted them.

No, Scar loved the world border because it was really pretty, all glowing blue not-quite-anything’s in the air creating a shimmering wall that wasn’t really there until you tilted your head quite right and then it was, twisting and turning and sparkling in the sunlight or the moonlight or no light at all. As if it were somehow creating and refracting it’s own light. He was somewhat distracted from Grian explaining the goats, just watching the shimmering translucent waves ripple through the not-quite-anything’s.

It didn’t matter however because they were both distracted by the ominous death tone from their communicators that they rushed to get out of their pockets. Scar’s was deep in his pack so he clambered up the hill to where Grian was holding his in one hand and groaning, eyes pressed shut.

Scar couldn’t help a little smile when he saw the message. Joel. Wonderful. He’d been teasing him so badly and now he was the one who was dead. Wonderful.

Grian made an odd series of Grian noises before opening his eyes that flashed purple for a minute before they were downcast to the communicator and flashed back up again, the normal dark brown that was so close to black it made Scar feel dizzy. Like two windows into the void.

“I knew people were gonna die early but that’s two deaths and…” He was floundering. This was panicking him and not in a way Scar could relate to as a player. This was panicking him because he’d designed this game, “Joel and Etho they’re good at this. They know how to survive.” Grian left the communicator on the ground and stood, running a frustrated hand through his hair. He was panicking because it wasn’t going the way he’d expected. Scar tried to push that thought out of his mind, tried to engage Grian as a player, tried to pull him out of this state.

“That’s the best part Grian!” He picked up the communicator and closing it carefully, handed it back to Grian who took it with a sceptical raised eyebrow at Scar, “They mocked me,” he explained, “Multiple, multiple times did they mock me. And look at me,” he held a hand to his chest and posed dramatically, “Green. Boom.”

He was hoping that might elicit a laugh but instead his friend just shook his head, looking gravelly at his communicator, turning it over in his hands. Scar frowned, letting his worry creep into his chest. It made him so nervous when Grian got all watchery. He didn't know how to act. How to feel. He certainly didn't know how to help. But then, as if someone flicked a switch, he shrugged and tucking the communicator into his pocket, standing up straight and taking a deep breath.

“Right. So, these goats, Scar.”

Grian was having a time of it.

He’d lost count of the number of times he’d almost had a panic attack and it was taking more effort keeping himself together than keeping Scar alive which was not what he'd been expecting from double life. Then again, neither was being paired with Scar.

I’m going to be babysitting this man for this entire series, He thought miserably as he watched Scar get butted by the third goat in a row and felt the pain ricket through him. Scar was way underselling it with his little ‘ouch’s. It hurt like hell.

If he was perfectly honest with himself, which was a fairly rare occurrence, he’d already spent a series with Scar. He’d already loved and lost Scar. And he had no desire to do it again.

First third life, and well, he remembered all too well how that ended. So this time…there was no way they could…well, they either won together or they died together.

Grian had to admit there was a part of him that found that incredibly appealing. They had to be with each other till the end. There would be no last-minute betrayal this time.

And maybe for anyone else, it would have been easy. This time, he wouldn’t have to lose Scar, this time he wouldn’t have to mourn Scar. And for once, Grian cursed the fact that he kept all his horrible emotions where everyone else didn’t. Because it wasn’t that easy. Their joint death would still be his loss. He would still have to mourn him.

And he didn’t want to do that.

-

He swung his axe frustratedly at the dark oak tree, thinking about monopolies and wasted time. The day was surprisingly cold in this world but he had still broken a sweat.

“We should uh-” he called to Scar, not sure how to phrase it in any way that Scar wouldn’t immediately know they were soulmates. “Are we?” But maybe he was giving the guy too much credit. They’d been hanging out all day, he’d actually yelped from their shared pain right in front of him several times. If he hadn’t noticed at this point, was he ever going to? Or would Grian have to work up the courage and tell him?

“Do you wanna, do you wanna start making a base?” That was good. Nice and neutral. No insinuations.

“Dude I’ve got the perfect base location!” Scar gushed without missing a beat. And it was as if everything he said gave Grian flashbacks.

Small desert. Easily defensible. Great plan.

“If you’re talking about the pillager outpost, that sounds horrific-”

“Hear me out!”

And there he went with the fucking sales pitch.

“No that sounds-”

“Hear me out.”

“That sounds horrific.”

“Well just hear me out. Hear me out.”

“Top ten worst ideas!” Grian insisted, groaning as he leant against the trunk of the dark oak tree that wouldn’t budge under the force of his axe.

“Top ten best Scar ideas!” He grinned at him from his own tree that was breaking down annoyingly easily, raising his eyebrows in proposition. A look Grian knew all too well.

Still, he couldn’t help but laugh, turning away with a genuine grin.

“Huh, see!” Scar beamed, watching Grian expectantly.

“Yeah. You, you flipped it. You flipped it!” he teased through his laugh.

Scar met his gaze and he felt like it might be easier to die right then and there rather than feel everything he was feeling. The affection and the fear and the harrowing guilt, the pre-emptive sadness and frustration and dare he call it love. He just smiled and turned away. Because it was. Love. That was the problem. He couldn’t help that when it came to Scar. His heart was beating out the unmistakeably panicked rhythm of love. He was already planning on indulging Scar. Already contingency planning for when it inevitably didn’t work.

Just like old times, indeed.

“So could we get a little brief explanation on how you guys died?” Scar asked, frowning at the pair in front of them, clambering out of their boats.

Grian was sitting in a tree behind him, crunching an apple he picked loudly. Etho moved to stand in front of Scar, sifting through his things and Joel began frantically pacing about the whole scene.

“There was a-” Joel started before shrugging and waving a hand like that cleared it all up.

Etho sighed, “So- okay. I saw an enderman in a tree…”

But at that point, despite being the one that asked, Scar stopped paying attention, his wandering eye having caught sight of a group of pandas in the distance. Scar hated regular pandas but these ones had grey fur that reminded him of his cat back home. He didn’t know where home was, or what kind of a world he lived in that having a cat wouldn’t be a horrible idea. He supposed it was like the world border thing. He didn’t remember per se, he just had fragments that he hadn’t quite forgotten.

And he had a cat, called Jellie and for whatever reason, the grey fur pandas reminded him of her. Maybe that’s what she looked like, he didn’t know.

As he tuned back into the conversation, being momentarily distracted from cooing over the Jellie pandas, Etho was still animatedly talking about whatever he’d been talking about. Wait, what had Scar asked him?

“Uhuh,” Grian nodded, sounding unimpressed.

“And then as I was doing that,” Etho continued, “A creeper behind me, whoosh!” he fairly averagely mimed a creeper explosion and then held his shield in front of him, “I do a little spin around, I use the shield, I’m all good. A little burnt, in a bit of pain, right?”

Joel was nodding along, jumping from foot to foot on the spot. Scar went to stand near Grian, leaning against the trunk of the tree he was sitting in.

“And then Joel this is your part.”

“Uh I tried to kill it with an axe but I broke the boat instead, and then it killed me.”

For all the first impressions of energy you might get from these two, their story was a little the other way round. Etho acted his out energetically while Joel shrugged and deadpanned through what was arguably the more interesting section of the story.

Everyone laughed, especially Grian who despite his dread on the mountain, seemed to find the whole situation hilarious now.

“Yeah,” Joel shrugged, “That’s why we’re now, boat gang!” He went back to his boat and clambered in, grabbing the oars abandoned inside it. Scar watched, equal parts concerned and impressed as Etho followed suit and the two of them began their routine of pushing themselves along on land, digging the oars into the ground. It seemed to require a lot of effort really but god did it look stupid.

Tango didn’t have the faintest clue why Jimmy was still around, but he was insanely grateful for it.

It wasn’t just that he hadn’t abandoned him either. It was that he seemed genuinely excited to be his soulmate, to hang out with him, to share resources. He didn’t see Tango as a liability.

It was, Tango had finally realised after their conversation with Scott and Cleo because of his curse. He’d honestly completely forgotten about the Canary Curse. He hadn’t processed what that meant as soulmate to that. Of course Jimmy didn’t see Tango as a liability, because in his mind, he was the ultimate liability. Tango was guaranteed to die first. He was just as cursed as Jimmy now. His soulmate’s forgiveness was really just a massive pre-emptive apology.

But Tango decided he didn’t care. He’d firmly meant it when he’d said it was a sacrifice he was willing to take. To have a partner who unconditionally cared for him, well, he thought he might give up anything for that. And he was being very selfish about it really. He didn’t want to win. He knew he should, but he didn’t. He wasn’t sure he particularly even wanted to make it as far as he had done in the past.

Because no-one cared once the red mania set in. No-one cared about alliances, or truces or ceasefires. No-one cared about friendships, certainly no-one cared about each other’s feelings. He hated to see all his friends turn and ruin one another, to go mad with the curse of the red. And he hated being so insignificant. Among all that, all the death and the murder and he always managed to mean absolutely nothing at all. To anyone. In his final moments, he’d never been anything more than another casualty among many as they fell.

And being the first death. Well, a Canary in a coalmine might not live very long. But at least everyone regarded it’s death. Being a warning was better than being nothing. A number, a shock factor.

So, he really didn’t care. He didn’t care how things happened. He didn’t care that he’d be the first to die. It was worth it. It was worth it a million times over if this was who Jimmy was.

And he’d never known Jimmy the way he knew him now. The way you could know someone when you’re bodies were intertwined through ancient magic.

Something had changed in the way he thought about the man beside him when he’d felt the tears Jimmy gulped down and the harrowing pain in his chest that made his stomach turn. The way he’d reacted when Scott and Cleo teased him about being Yellow, being the first out, the first gone. It hurt him. More than he ever let on in his quiet protests stammered through laughs. He wondered if it had always hurt and he’d just never realised before. Yes. Almost certainly.

God, how could they all be so stupid?

“Should we,” He shot a tentative smile at his soulmate over the crafting table he was leaning on, “Should we- I mean, given that we’re linked,” he’d stammered through the whole sentence, not wanting to assume anything, trying to present his thoughts as a suggestions rather than a request. “Should we maybe make a little happy house together somewhere?” He stared at the ground and suddenly Jimmy was next to him with a tentative hand on his arm. He glanced up, frowning as his soulmate pressed a set of tools into his hands.

“I think so, yep.” He made it sound casual, like it wasn’t even a big deal. He was glancing over Tango’s shoulder into the distance, barely paying attention to the way the man in front of him was losing his absolute shit.

“Oh look at that,” he gushed, turning the tools over in his hand and tucking them carefully into his pack, turning around to find Jimmy preoccupied with the crafting table again.

“Where would you rather go?” Jimmy called offhandedly as he crafted himself the same set of tools, tucking them one by one into his bag.

“I don’t care,” Tango ran a hand through his hair, tired and aching and just desperately wanting somewhere safe to sleep, “Some corner maybe?”

It was generally a good strategic move to be on the edge of the map and not right in the middle, they’d all learned that at one point or another. A world border was a certain level of protection and being out of everyone’s way was even better. Jimmy seemed quite preoccupied with his crafting, only half listening with nods and agreed mutterings.

“I dunno,” Tango shrugged, leaning back to lie down in the grass, his gaze flicking to Jimmy who was chewing on his lip as he put his things back into his pack. “What do you think?”

“I dunno,” Jimmy frowned, snapping out of his tunnel vision and giving a nonchalant shrug, “I think we should go to the area that I-“

But at that point Tango was suddenly flying through the grass, yelping as he slammed into the dirt, grazing his elbows and knees as the dull ache in his muscles turned into a throbbing in his left arm.

“Oh my gosh,” Jimmy ran over to him as he scrambled to sit up, inspecting the arm that was throbbing and while throwing glares and spluttering angrily at the goat who’d butted him over. There was just enough blood on his arm to be annoying but not enough to be worth doing anything about. He wiped it on his trousers as Jimmy grabbed him his back from where he'd been sitting.

He offered Tango a hand up and he couldn’t help the little smile that lifted on his lips as he took it, pulling himself up to be eye level with him. The hand was cold, but everyone felt cold to him. The two of them stood there for a few moments, staring at one another and Tango knew he was probably blushing heavily and tried very hard to keep his composure as Jimmy’s beautiful brown eyes creased in concern for him.

“You alright?”

No he most certainly was not. But it wasn’t to do with the goat.

“Yeah, yeah I got a bit- I got butted.”

“Yeah,” Jimmy laughed and turned away, letting go of Tango’s hand to run his through his hair, “Right, I think we should go the area that I died?”

“Sounds good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“Don’t you dare,” Grian called to Scar who was already out of earshot. He watched him wander away from them and knew exactly what he was wandering towards.  “Scar, don’t you dare go near those pandas.”

He knew Scar. Pandas seemed like the sort of thing he’d either want to obsess over, or light on fire. He’d probably prefer the obsession, the fire was probably more likely and neither option was good.

“Scar!”

“He’s gonna murder ‘em,” Etho groaned.

Joel just laughed.

“I hate pandas guys,” Scar ran back to their little group, grinning in a way that put almost all of them on edge.

“What!” Joel sounded deeply offended, screwing up his nose in a mixture of confusion and disgust.

Oh void, Grian thought, already losing hope and surprised any of the pandas were still alive.

“But these ones look like my cat!” Scar stood up straight, excitedly bouncing from one foot to the other. The whole group frowned. Grian’s heart fell into his stomach and he felt his breathing begin to race out of his control. What the hell was he talking about?

“You have a cat?” Joel was the first to ask. He sounded befuddled where Grian just felt a harrowing sense of dread.

“I’m pretty sure,” Scar shrugged, “Ya know, outside of these games.”

There it was. Oh shit. Alarm bells sounded in his head and it took all his composure not to freak out. To scream at Scar demanding more answers, to give in to the quickening of his breathing. No-one else was bothered. He couldn’t be either. Right now, he was just one of them. He could deal with his more Watchery feelings about this discovery later. But he couldn’t help his racing thoughts. How and why could Scar remember anything outside the games? Even something as simple as a cat meant he knew he had a life. And that was dangerous. What if there were others?”

“Ohh, okay.” Etho nodded like it made sense although he was still exchanging concerned glances with Joel.

“Right, come on,” Grian set off, demanding following from the group, “Are we gonna find somewhere to base?”

Which started Scar on his rant about the pillagers again and successfully distracted everyone from the cat. Which had admittedly, been his plan. He couldn’t have anyone dwelling on it too long.

It’s just a cat, Grian told himself, taking deep breaths as the group moved into the forest, it’s okay. It’s just a cat.

The Watchers couldn’t be too angry about a cat. Right?

-

Scar shrieked as he made his way through the forest, dodging and weaving monsters now that the night was around them again.

“This is the part where you help Grian,” Etho called over at him, swiping away a few zombies easily.

Grian just rolled his eyes. He didn’t have the energy to be looking after Scar the whole time. He was a grown man. He could fend off his own damn monsters.

“Oh my gosh.” Scar was panting and glancing around like anything might slink out of the dark. Which it absolutely could. But if he just stopped long enough to fight it, he would be absolutely fine. But no. He was running screaming like a headless chicken. “Guys can we get out of the forest?” Like that wasn’t exactly what they were doing. Scar seemed to be freaking out a lot more than the rest of them, who lagged behind laughing. “This is so dangerous!”

Grian sighed and turned to kill the skeleton shooting at his soulmate. Only because it’s last arrow had been dangerously close to Scar’s foot and he didn’t fancy carrying him hobbling until they could find a safe place to remove it.

“I am just gonna run straight and…” Grian heard Scar’s voice trail off behind him as an arrow struck his shield, wedging itself in the wood and he ran forward toward the skeleton, sword poised in his other hand. Joel came from behind it, slicing it to a pile of bones before Grian could even get there. Etho took the bow and two arrows it had left while Joel collected bones.

“How does he not know?” Joel looked up at Grian with lips pressed tight looking like he was about to burst out laughing but was trying very hard to keep it in. The feeling was immediately contagious and Grian felt a grin tug at his cheeks, despite everything. He had to admit, it was quite entertaining watching Scar blunder around with him having no idea they were paired.

“I don’t know,” he wheezed in the same hushed conspiratorial and utterly befuddled voice. “I don’t-” he sighed as Joel tucked away the last of the bones and the three of them set off again, him keeping close to Joel so he could whisper at him without Scar hearing. He was only a little way ahead after all.

“I asked him this afternoon, he doesn’t know!” Joel lost it silently laughing and Grian just shook his head exasperatedly. “I was like, do you know who you’re partnered with? he’s like no.”

Joel glanced at him with the most simultaneously amused and exasperated face that pretty much summarised exactly how Grian felt about the matter.

“I thought he might be playing dumb but he’s not.”

“Wait,” Etho stopped to frown deeply between the two of them, “He doesn’t know?”

“No he doesn’t know!” Grian whisper-screamed, manically. Etho sounded genuinely confused, as though he couldn’t possibly imagine how someone could not realise. Clearly, he didn’t know Scar too well. Although Grian had to admit, he was finding it hard to believe himself, and he knew Scar very well so maybe that was unfair to Etho.

It all set Joel off on a fresh bout of laughter.

Etho stared at him and then glanced into the distance looking for Scar. “There’s no way!”

“That’s what I thought!” Grian waved his hands in incomprehensible gestures before frustratedly running them through his hair. He spluttered as the other two laughed, completely unsure how to articulate just how angry and confused he was. Just how sure that, somehow, Scar had no clue. He settled for repeating, “I asked him!”

Scar was nowhere to be seen now, presumably having gone over the rather rickety structure bridging the ravine that couldn’t be described as a bridge despite it’s function because it was essentially a few tree trunks haphazardly nailed together. Grian vaguely wondered who had made it. If it weren’t for the water at the bottom of the ravine, it would have been a decent death trap and such things were generally frowned upon whilst everyone was green.

A horn sounded as the three of them reached the not-bridge and Grian grinned, pulling out his own and holding it to his lips, trying to muster breath despite their dash through the forest rather ruining his lung capacity.

The horn sounded, though not quite as loudly as he would have liked but was soon joined by a chorus of others from various spots around the map.

“These horns,” Joel shook his head as he climbed carefully onto the log bridge, “Are driving me insane.”

Grian laughed, thinking bitterly to himself that it didn’t take much to drive Joel insane and remembering Bdubs and Impulse sharing similar thoughts.

He followed the other two, (what had they called themselves, boat something or rather? Boat boys?) onto the bridge, spreading his wings to help his balance and wishing birch trees had thicker trunks.

Maybe the red mania would come early this season and not even because people died quickly. Just because of the goddamn goat horns making people go mad. The thought didn't help the growing sense of unease, that everything this season was slipping beyond his control. It was sounding all the panicked alarms in his brain. Between the early deaths that oh god he should have seen coming! And Scar who was absolutely unmanageable and now remembered a cat somehow?

It's fine, he told himself harshly, staring up at the sky as if the eyes beyond would offer him guidance rather than reprimand, it has to be fine.

Chapter Text

“We could go up here, on this bit.” Jimmy stopped, leaning his back against one of the towering shady trees in the spot he’d chosen. It wasn’t exactly where he died, the spot he’d had in mind, but he’d be darned if he had to walk any further and he still hadn’t found anywhere to fill a flask of water. They’d been walking not far from the edge of a cliff that dropped down into a ravine with a river running at the bottom. It was quite a spectacular sight among the flat monotony of the landscape on either side. The river too might be a suitable source of drinking water if they could find a way down that wouldn’t instantly kill them with one wrong move or slipping rock.

“That works,” Tango, who’d been following him for most of the day now, caught up with him, panting for breath but nodding with a surprising amount of energy, “What’re you thinking of building?” He said it with a tone of intrigue as though Jimmy would have any clue and he suddenly felt somewhat pressured to have an idea, a plan.

He’d wanted to go here, surely he should have a reason other than that it looked shady and defensible. He didn’t and he suddenly felt oddly guilty for that.

“I dunno. Like just- I think just like a big shack.” It sounded pathetic but he really didn’t anything else to offer, “For both of us to,” he paused, racking his brain for how he was even planning on finishing that sentence and suddenly realising not finishing it made it worse, “You know as just our little base.”

Nice save, Solidarity. He was surprised the thought still came in the sarcastic affection of Scott’s voice, complete with the accent he couldn’t do out loud if he had a million years to learn.

“To shack up in,” Tango nodded thoughtfully, finishing Jimmy’s sentence way better than he could have, “I like it!”

Jimmy breathed a sigh of relief and reminded himself firmly that Tango wasn’t judging his every move. It was literally only him that was micro analysing every sentence.

They made a plan as the sun began to set around them, sinking right down the middle of the ravine and casting a beautiful golden glow that bounced off the edge of the cliffs and glimmered across the surface of the water. The sun took almost all the heat with it and Jimmy found himself shivering almost too much even to collect seeds for a rudimentary farm.

“This is odd,” Tango laughed, stopping chopping down a nearby tree to itch at his arms, “I’ve never felt cold before.”

“What? you’ve never-” Jimmy frowned for a few seconds before understanding right as Tango opened his mouth to explain, “Oh right because of the hybrid- yeah! Well, if you wanna bring that fire head over here, by all means, I’d appreciate the warmth.”

Tango laughed again, shaking his head, “Well that depends what our plan is? Should we find a hole for the night?”

Which started the planning anew, this time with the two of them huddled together under one of the large trees they hadn’t yet cut down.

“I’m not good with building at all Tango,” Jimmy warned, suddenly realising he hadn’t clarified that and looking up at his soulmate to make sure he was perfectly aware of just how little he brought to this team. “So, erm.” Void, he hated how dependent he was going to be. Tango deserved so much better than him.

“Oh I was hoping you would say you were,” Tango groaned, putting his head in his hands, “You’re not the builder?”

Jimmy’s eyebrows tried to shoot off his head, “Wait, are you not the builder?” he asked with what he thought was a fair amount of panic.

“I’m not a builder, no!” Tango shook his head and then leant it back against the tree trunk, grinning at Jimmy who couldn’t help but laugh. This truly was an utter trainwreck of a soulmate pairing but at least it was a warm fire while it crashed and burnt.

“Oh well, we live in a dirt hut.” Tango shrugged and pulled himself to his feet, offering Jimmy a hand that he gratefully took. The two of them laughed, though panic crept through in both their tones.

Jimmy smiled nervously, shaking his head in disbelief, “We might be in trouble here.”

Scar stopped at the pillager outpost, taking deep breaths as he pressed his back to the wall. His daring dash through the night had been successful but more tiring than it should have been. Maybe his soulmate was also sprinting for their life. It was night after all. His breath returned quickly and he made his way upstairs through the tower, glancing around him, fear jumping about in his heart. He hadn’t seen a single pillager actually inside the tower yet, so hopefully he could make it all the way up without having to fight one.

Once on the roof, he set to work, scattering his materials across the floor, that was technically the roof, and picking at them carefully as he began to build. The other boys were quite far behind so he had a bit of time to work in peace. He wasn’t sure the others were fully on board but he was sure that once they finally saw the big picture of the scenario, they’d be a hundred percent behind him. Admittedly, as he began to create his platform, staring below at the outpost, he began to worry a little that Etho had been joking, or leading him astray for the fun of it but he dismissed those thoughts when he saw the three others on the ground, fighting off hoards of pillagers with varied success. They were committed. If not particularly tactical.

-

“Scar why is there no torches,” Grian’s voice came from the roof of the outpost. Scar couldn’t tell if his frustrated voice was sarcastic or not.

“I had limited torches,” He leaned over the edge of his platform a little, catching sight of Grian agitatedly searching through his pack on the roof. “I only had two.”

He was trying to explain but it seemed to only make Grian more upset though he couldn’t tell why.

“I mean I’ve used all my torches trying to light up this,” Grian gestured wildly at their surroundings and then began to climb up the ladder affixed crookedly to the pillar, “this, what would you call it? Plateau of death.”

Scar grinned, appreciating Grian’s eloquence, even if it was in mocking of his idea.

They’ll see, he told himself decidedly, just you wait, they’ll see.

“I noticed you guys were having some struggles down there,” he sat and grabbed his food as Joel paddled in circles in his boat, “Dude, I just booked it and was totally safe.”

“Yeah,” Grian scoffed a laugh, making it to the top and collapsing against a crafting table, “I noticed.”

Scar winced at seeing him up close. All of the others had a few blood-soaked patches where they’d been nicked by arrows. Grian was the worst off.

“Grian you have, you have an arrow in your eye,” he gushed, frowning and holding out a tentative hand to help which the other man swatted away, glaring.

“Yeah you kinda left me for dead out there.” The bitterness in his words made Scar’s heart leap with worry. Things had been going so well between the two of them. He didn’t want to ruin it now. But his argument came on instinct.

“Well no it’s all about precision and dodging and that’s what I did so-”

He was cut off by a low groan from Grian as he removed the arrow with an impressive precision that was still wonkier and more painful than if he’d let Scar do it. He clutched a hand to the wound as he let the arrow covered in his blood fall to the floor. Scar could practically feel the stinging horrible pain of it. He looked away, wincing. Grian just tutted, scrabbling through his things. Scar rolled his eyes at the man’s insistence to do everything himself and hurried to take the pack off him, searching through it to find what Grian was looking for.

“There should be a spare jumper,” Grian huffed out through winces of pain. Scar handed him the spare jumper, his fish and his flask of water.

Etho made it to the tower and had his own wound to sort out which Joel carefully helped him with.

“So, Etho is this safe enough, are they gonna get up here?” Grian called over to him as he sacrificed a sleeve of the spare jumper to wrap around his head and make a makeshift eyepatch.

“Oh you did perfect!” Etho nodded and Joel snapped at him to stay still, “Yeah, it’s fine!”

“Thankyou Etho!” Scar grinned at Grian who rolled his eyes and took his water. But he smiled affectionately when he thought the flask was blocking his face as he drank. Scar felt a fluttering in his stomach and turned away, going for his own flask. His throat suddenly felt awfully dry.

Once they were all fed and fixed up, they began working on expanding the platform, tools and materials spread across the existing area. The sun began to rise in the distance, lighting the sky with hues of orange fading into blue. Scar missed the day, missed the warmth of the sun against his skin and the security of blue skies and being able to see as far as the light would touch his eyes. It calmed him.

“Oh man,” Grian muttered, leaning slightly over the edge and staring at the fields below. He didn’t seem half as calmed by the sun’s return, “Scar,” he called over his shoulder and Scar looked up from where he was crafting more planks to expand their glorious platform, “You can’t seriously look down there and say this is a good idea.”

“Okay,” Scar sighed, frustrated at this point that Grian wasn’t seeing the potential, “Let me give you the pitch again.”

“I don’t need the pitch!” Grian whined, turning around to face the group with an exasperated expression.

“Let me give you the pitch.”

“We’re surrounded by a- many ways to die!” he gestured chaotically around at them then put his head in his hands. Joel laughed from where he was still sitting in his boat.

“At some point,” Scar insisted, placing a guiding hand on Grian’s shoulder and gesturing with his cane, “Ren’s gonna probably become a king, he’s gonna mass an army, or someone else and they’re gonna try to take our great land before us!”

“Uhuh,” Grian shrugged his hand off his shoulder, raising an eyebrow at him and moving to sit on the edge of Joel’s abandoned boat.

“And now we have pillagers below us, protecting us; we have a moat, of all things, and we have a world border!”

Grain just sighed, putting his head in his hand and glancing up at Joel with a ‘help’ kind of a look. Joel just laughed.

“Perfectly safe!” Scar turned back to his work, ignoring Grian’s concerns.

This was going to work. It had to.

And if Grian wasn’t seeing that, he could go find his own place to live. No-one said he had to stay, anyway.

“Honestly Cleo, do we need soulmates?” Scott called back to his friend as she paused under a tall oak tree to take a drink. It had taken him most of the day to work up the courage to ask. He knew what it meant once he put the idea out there and he wasn’t sure he was quite ready to commit to that yet. But he was exhausted. He wanted to settle down and honestly, he just wanted somewhere to sleep. Despite all the extra energy and resilience this world allowed for, they still needed to sleep at least a few times a week which none of them were doing right now. Except stupid Bdubs and Impulse with their stupid domestic house and their farm and their perfect soulmates.

“What if we just become soulmates?” he offered raising an eyebrow at Cleo who nodded thoughtfully, putting away their water, “I think, I think we should.” They sighed, leaning their head against the tree, they didn’t sound thrilled about the idea but they sounded confident, “I think, you know-”

“We just go against the grain,” Scott laughed watching as Cleo grabbed their pack again, “Everyone else is with their soulmates and we’re just like nope.”

“Nope!” Cleo repeated with a laugh, linking her arm around Scott’s as the two of them set off again. “We’re fine. We’re fine as a pair. It’s cool.”

There was a comfortable silence as they made forward through the forest, both dragging their legs like they were made of lead. They’d discussed settling near the pillager outpost as a possibility and were heading that way to see if the danger outweighed the benefit of no-one wanting to come near them.

“Yeah, I think- I think when we find our soulmates,” Cleo continued, “We just, tell them off. Because you know, how dare they- how dare they be in so much pain.”

Scott smiled to himself, enjoying Cleo’s melodramatic approach to life. It was certainly one he could get on board with. If he was perfectly honest, his soulmate hadn’t been in as much pain as Cleo’s. She’d been gasping and yelling every five minutes. Scott was occasionally wincing but nothing massive. His soulmate had started eating now as well which was nice. But that wasn’t really what it was about for him. It was about the way his legs felt like lead and he had almost depleted his melon supply and his heart was thudding in the same monotonous rhythm as his footsteps. He was so, so tired of walking, wandering, hoping.

“They took too long to find us,” He proclaimed self-righteously as he pushed a branch out of the way for Cleo to duck under. “We were waiting.”

“I don’t think they were even trying, to be honest,” Cleo was laughing but their tone was dead serious.

“Yep, neither do I,” Scott sighed exasperatedly and threw his hands up, “I mean, we’ve spent all this time running around and they’ve not shown their face once!”

“Exactly,” Cleo mumbled, shaking their head. Scott stopped, taking her arm and looking her dead in the eye, seeking confirmation. They nodded and he smiled.

“Right then.”

And they both set off again.

-

Cleo was pretty adamant once they’d checked out the outpost that they absolutely could not live there and Scott couldn’t help but agree. He had not been prepared for the amount of pillagers that were actually there and decided almost as soon as he saw the fields around it, he didn’t want to live anywhere near the outpost

They left before they got shot and ended up in a meadow. Cleo liked it, proposing they settle there. Scott shut down the idea, saying it was too close to the outpost but really the flowers were bringing tears to his eyes and he felt unsteady. He couldn’t live in a nice little meadow. Not when Jimmy was on the other side of a literal ravine living happily with his soulmate. He knew it was stupid and petty. He needed to survive and he couldn’t do that with thoughts like this going round and round his head. Maybe that was exactly why he couldn’t live in the meadow.

Still, he felt bad for shooting down the idea when it really could be quite nice, from Cleo’s perspective anyway. So he was trying very hard as they left the meadow, Cleo sneezing up a storm and Scott quietly telling himself that was another reason not to live in the meadow, to come up with a different idea. It came when he saw that the ravine extended all the way to the world border. He was fairly good at spotting a defensible location when he saw one. If they built on the edge of the ravine, no-one could attack them well from down there and there was a world border on one side. That meant it was basically in a corner but two bases next to each other could both be in the corner. For two people that weren’t technically soulmates, but wanted to live close, it was perfect.

He gasped with the clarity of the idea, turning around to Cleo and pointing over the other side of the ravine, “We could build two cute houses on either side of the ravine,” He gushed excitedly, gesturing his grand plan out, “And then we build a bridge between them!”

“Aww” Cleo cooed, nodding and grinning with enthusiasm, “That’s actually a really cute idea.

Scott smiled to himself, glad to have found an alternative. And it was probably a better idea anyway.

And finally, finally, he could start making a house and settling down. Maybe he could mine out a cave to sleep in that night.

The thought made him smile and sigh.

Who needed a soulmate anyway?

“So, are we, like, are we roommates with…SmallEtho?” Grian looked up from where he was expanding the edge of the platform to grin at Joel. He didn’t seem to notice, too preoccupied with rushing about the small platform, doing far too much and nothing at all somehow simultaneously.

“Yeah, we could room with you.” He paused staring out at the Western border, “I feel like a bridge-”

Scar cut him off with a laugh and Grian flashed him a grin. At least someone had caught on. “What?” he chuckled, shaking his head, “Oh no…”

“Why am I-?” Etho burst out, apparently also hearing and registering, if not fully understanding, “Oh what, that’s our name? Our team name?”

He didn’t sound pleased about it. Grian grinned. That had been the intention after all.

“We’re boat gang!” Joel cried, clambering into his boat again with a glare at Grian, “Alright? Boat gang.”

“You can’t be-” Grian shook his head, much to the dismay of Etho and the irritation of Joel, “No, you can’t be Ethobeans.”

Etho groaned like he was regretting his life decisions and if being paired with Joel had been any part his decision, Grian thought he probably would be.

“I’m sorry,” Scar shook his head in mock seriousness, “It’s done. You’re SmallEtho.”

Jimmy and Tango had been having a fairly good day, all things considered.

Well, they hadn’t died and that was just about the most they could do really. They’d spent the last night trying to mine in a cave someone had already been through and unsurprisingly finding nothing.

“We might have to…beg.” Jimmy proposed about halfway through the night. The two of them had found a very small cave that had already been lit up and looted but also cleared of monsters. They were making an effort to shift rock to block the entrance just enough that it would be safe for them to get some sleep. The two of them were far too tired. made an effort to block off the entrance to a small cave they’d found. They were both far too tired to keep going and it wasn’t like they were finding anything anyway. They may as well get some rest and build a house in the morning, since armour was apparently out of the question. Tango had used the last of his iron making Tim boots. It really was getting quite dire for the two of them. Which was another reason Tango really didn’t want to run around the caves all night. It wasn’t safe and they couldn’t afford to be unsafe until they had armour. But they needed to be unsafe to get armour. It was quite the conundrum and not one that could be solved on little sleep.

However, Jimmy’s proposition seemed like the best thing they’d come up with so far.

Tango joined in with Jimmy's laughter, unsure if that meant they were joking or not. "I'm, I'm okay with this, strategy yeah," he nodded as Jimmy turned back into the cave with a grin, finally having blocked off the entrance way.

They eventually settled on the dusty floor of the cave, huddled together for Tango’s warmth, their packs serving as awful makeshift pillows.

The cave was silent, the only sounds distant. Those of bats, groaning zombies, bubbling lava and rushing waterfalls far off.

“Tango,” Jimmy muttered into the quiet dark.

“Mm?”

“You know I’m cursed right?”

He couldn’t help but laugh despite himself. He thought everything that happened today had made that fairly obvious. “Yeah, course.”

“But like, if we’re soulmates, I mean I’ll have to check but I’m fairly sure if we’re soulmates that means you’re cursed too, you know that, right?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t care?”

His soulmates voice was so meek, so soft in the rough space around them. So unsure of himself and with little to no confidence in anyone else, least of all Tango’s, kindness.

“Hey,” Tango shrugged, staring up at the patterns in the stone roof, “I get to be your soulmate. Who cares for how long, right?”

Jimmy said nothing for a while after that and Tango vaguely wondered if he’d said the wrong thing. He was too scared of looking at his face, scared of what he might find there and he didn’t know how to apologise. So he lay there, waiting for a response.

Then finally, he felt Jimmy’s hand brush over his, taking it cautiously. He didn’t stop him, squeezing it tightly. So he wasn’t mad at him then.

“The watchers must be taking pity on me,” Jimmy’s voice was barely more than a whisper, “I don’t deserve you.”

Tango frowned, finally daring himself to look Jimmy in the eye. He was frowning, so much pain buried in his brown eyes, hidden away from the world until he was buried away from the world. In a cave. And in that moment, Tango didn’t count as the world. He was something else, and Jimmy trusted that something else with his pain.

“Hey,” he chuckled, squeezing his soulmates hand, “I’m the one who got us killed remember?”

Jimmy laughed too, turning back to stare at the ceiling, a grin replacing his cautious frown. “That’s true. That is true.”

Tango followed suit, going back to admiring the patterns in the stone until eventually his exhaustion cancelled out his nervousness and he drifted off to sleep.

-

They made back up to the surface in the morning, a comfortable silence between them, broken only occasionally by grumbling complaints about the unsuccessfulness of their mining endeavour.

Jimmy hadn’t been joking about begging either, he was fully making plans to do so once they reached the surface, their pitiful plot of land with it’s few chests and discarded heap of stone staring back at them. He was going to go guilt-trip a bucket out of Bdubs so they could hydrate their farm. Tango wasn’t sure how well that would go, but they didn’t have many other options at this point and he was desperate to get food going.

“Okay,” Tango told him as he dug about in the chests, “Well I’m gonna start building a super ugly house here and we’ll see how it goes.”

It seemed a priority for him to not have to dig into a cave just to sleep. It wouldn’t be anything nice looking but having some walls and maybe a door would make a huge difference. Besides, it felt final. It felt like sealing some sort of a deal with Jimmy once they had a house together.

But Jimmy was distracted, looking at something in the distance that seemed more interesting than Tango’s plans to make an insult to builders everywhere.

“Look,” he called, hurrying over and tapping Tango’s shoulder, “There’s, some people-” he pointed into the distance and Tango squinted before widening his eyes when he saw what he was pointing at, “They’ve taken the pillager outpost!” Jimmy scoffed incredulously.

“That’s their house?” Tango spluttered, looking to Jimmy for explanation. He just shrugged. Tango stared at them again. It was a huge wooden platform on a fairly rickety looking set of pillars. “Look at them.”

“Why didn’t we think of that?” Jimmy groaned, running a hand through his hair, “We should have done that!”

“I think that’s the worst place!” Tango burst out, shaking his head in an equally exasperated sigh. It had to be either Joel, or Scar or Martyn. No-one else would be crazy enough. “They’re gonna get crossbowed to death.

“Yeah,” Jimmy shrugged, “yeah no that’s true.” He turned away, grabbing his pack that he’d stuffed full of things he might need on his begging expedition. Mostly a lot of free space to put anything people gave him.

“Okay, I’m gonna go out,” he took a deep breath, clearly telling himself more than Tango. He was shocked how much his soulmate had already found him a safety net of sorts. He wasn’t sure whether it was a compliment to him or just that anyone who was vaguely nice to Jimmy made him feel that way, “I’m gonna go over there and see if they’ll just give me a bucket.”

Tango didn’t rate that plan but he didn't protest. It was worth a shot, wasn't it? “Keep an eye out for animals nearby,” he added, making Jimmy turn back, “Of any kind.”

“Right,” he nodded and gave a thumbs up, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Okay good luck to you!”

And he’d probably need it.

Tango glanced back up at the pillager outpost as he turned back to where he wanted to build the house. He had a horrible feeling there’d be more yellow’s very soon.

“This is horrific,” Grian said for what must have been the hundredth time that day. He watched Etho and Joel bridging out toward the corner of the world borders without any supports. It wasn’t a stable structure because it couldn’t be because then there was more chance the pillagers would find a way up.

“What’re you? Oh.” He realised they definitely couldn’t hear him from where over the wind so turned to Scar instead, “What’re they doing?”

Scar just laughed, shaking his head and grinning ear to ear. Grian wasn’t sure how he found the whole thing quite so amusing and how no-one else seemed as terrified as he was.

“We’ll build a better bridge,” Joel shouted as he ran back towards them. Grian could hear it creaking horribly. Oh void. This really couldn’t end well.

Scar had apparently decided to make the situation worse instead of better and grabbed his axe, swinging it at the bridge between them and Joel so that it creaked horribly, bouncing up and down. At the other side, Etho yelped. Grian groaned.

“No, no, no, Scar!” Joel took several steps back, wobbling horribly, “Scar, Scar, Scar.”  It was the first time all week Grian had heard him sound genuinely frightened. Perhaps it was because he knew Scar would. They all did.

Grian flung out a hand, stopping Scar’s axe. He was grinning like a maniac. So was Joel. Why was no-one taking this seriously?

“Scar, you can’t!” He scolded and the other man looked down at him with a smirk before sighing and putting his axe down. He really didn’t understand the concept of being green did he?

“We’ll make it safer,” Joel promised, stepping back onto the relatively sturdy part of the platform, “We just need a bridge for now otherwise we’ve got no way down!”

“Please tell me you don’t plan to expand that any further,” Grian nagged, following him to the chests they’d set up.

“We need a way down, Grian!”

“That thing will collapse hours before you make it to the other side of the pillagers fields,” he insisted, imploring Joel who was now sprinting back towards it.

“Oh, it’ll be fine!”

Grian put his head in his hands. Joel and Etho were already yellow, was it their goal to be the first reds or was Joel’s insanity just spreading to Etho.

Oh well. That was their own damn problem. As long as Scar stayed on the stable bits, he didn’t care.

“Grian, Grian, Grian, Grian,” Scar sidled up to him, sitting down on the edge of the platform with his legs dangling over the edge. It made Grian panic but he tried to hide it. Scar still didn’t know after all. Besides that, it made his heart sink because Scar sat down so that he was looking up at Grian instead of vice-versa. It was a habit of theirs by now. “My instincts almost kicked in,” He smirked, that evil little smirk and Grian wanted to punch him right off the edge just to make his heart stop doing what it was doing.

Instead he let himself laugh, indulging the way Scar made him feel just for a moment, “I know, I saw you. You thought about it.”

“I did,” Scar laughed, throwing his head back and kicking his feet, “And I caught myself I’m like oh this isn’t good.”

Grian nodded, unsure what Scar wanted. An award? For not killing someone while green? He did seem to be seeking congratulations. But he didn’t have to respond because at that moment he caught sight of Joel and Etho who had tipped water down from where they were standing on the platform. Grian watched in utter dismay as the Pillagers began to swim up the stream of water. Oh void, no.

“Get out of here!” he heard Joel yell as he took off running toward them, soon hearing Scar following.

“What are you guys doing?” he made it there and tried to grab the bucket off Joel. He needed to collect the water, to stop the mob of crossbows that were currently swimming up it.

“We were tryna make a staircase down,” Joel explained, hitting Grian off him and scooping up the water himself, watching as what was left behind washed the Pillagers down to the ground again.

“Why?” Scar frowned, sounding hurt but none of the others answered, all caught up in watching the pillagers try to climb water that wasn’t there. Clearly, they weren’t very smart. Grian felt slightly safer knowing that, but way more in danger knowing they could swim up water to get to them.

“What’re they doing?” Joel laughed incredulously.

“Why would you guys leave?” Scar elaborated and Joel rolled his eyes at him frustratedly, “We’re not tryna leave. We’re just tryna make another way down.”

Despite how angry and frustrated with Scar Grian was personally, he couldn’t help but be annoyed at Joel’s shortness. Scar’s grand pillager plan had been going fairly well so far, compared to how they’d all thought it would. So of course he’d been confused thinking they were leaving.

The hypocrisy of it made Grian feel ill and suddenly he wanted very desperately to be alone. To be somewhere safe where he didn’t have to worry about falling to his death or getting shot by pillagers or his stupid fucking soulmate.

His wish was quite aggressively not granted.

Scott hadn’t gotten as much set up as he wanted to. He and Cleo had built the most functional bridge between the two spots they’d chosen on either side of the ravine. Cleo had the pillager side, and Scott couldn’t decide whether that was an advantage or a disadvantage. He’d made some chests, which had been lifesaving. Being able to unload his pack made him feel like he was home. Besides that, it helped his aching muscles. He’d sat in the grass for a good hour just letting the world wash over him, letting his thoughts calm and his breathing steady. Then he’d gotten started on making a farm.

Bdubs came around with BigB and Ren and Scott bitchily wondered where loverboy Impulse was at.

The conversation was rather dull, all things considered and he was fairly over people at this point. He wanted to make his house so he could sleep but instead, he was spending the night standing around chatting. Like he had been all week. It was really pissing him off. 

Eventually, there was a break in the conversation for Scott to point out what had been holding his attention for several minutes now.

“If you want to direct your attention toward the pillager tower over there,” He put on a mock tour guide voice for the group, “Have you seen on top of it?”

There was a chorus of gasps and groans and ooh’s.

“Oh that’s a sneaky spot for a base,” Ren gushed, surprising Scott with his positive intonation. It seemed like a fairly obviously bad idea to him. But Ren seemed impressed. “That’s very smart.”

“Yes and no,” Scott tried for diplomacy, “Like-”

“Can they get up there?” Ren turned to him, riling him up in anger at being interrupted.

“That’s what I don’t know,” Scott shrugged, trying to pretend he wasn’t bothered.

“I’m pretty sure they can, yeah.” Cleo called from where she sat on the crafting table.

Scott nodded at her, reminded again of why he’d chosen her of all people to be his nonofficial soulmate. “But also, there’s four of them up there,” he added another part of the whole situation that had confused him, “So they’re not planning on living there as a four I imagine.”

Maybe they were. But wasn’t it supposed to be about soulmates? Were they allowed to create more factions and teams within that? Would that be way complicated because of the soulbound. He honestly couldn’t tell. And he couldn’t think of four people who wouldn’t be interested in living in a faction without their soulmates without including his and Cleo’s soulmates, which only pissed him off further because it seemed like something the two of them would do.

Martyn and Pearl must be bad influences on each other.

“That can’t be a good idea,” Ren mused, eyes fixed on the four figures silhouetted against the world border’s rippling light.

“There was a lot of them,” Scott added, sighing and leaning back against his chests, “Me and Cleo thought about it as well and then we were like mm no that’s a lot of people.”

“Far too many monsters,” Cleo agreed, raising her eyebrows at Scott who grinned.

“Just make a water elevator,” Bdubs laughed, gesturing wildly at the fields in the distance, “Go get some soul sand, make a water elevator and just funnel them right up.”

“Oh my void,” Scott loved Bdubs’ evil scheming sometimes. He’d be a good person to have on your team in the red days, he decided.

“That’s genius!” Ren threw an arm around Bdubs’ shoulder and Scott glanced at BigB who had been quite quiet and seemed unbothered by Ren’s overly casual affection.

Bdubs seemed far more uncomfortable. Still he was laughing.

“That’ll give them a good wake up surprise.”

Joel got up from where he was sitting on the floor and frowned at the ground, “I was just saying-”

“Guys it’s a bad idea!” Scar’s voice cut them all off as they turned to see him running towards them at lightening speed, far too fast for the wobbly awful unsupported bridge to cope. But no-one cared about that right now. “It’s a bad idea!”

He was right. It very much was. Because over on the sturdy platform, a pillager stood, brandishing its crossbow and angrily yelling. Grian didn’t need to understand what he was saying to know he was angry. His heart did a somersault, leaping and sinking at the same time. Oh shit only temporarily overriding I told you so.

“Oh Scar!!” he screamed at the same time as Joel. Etho yelled incoherently and three of them scrambled for weapons.

“I admit it,” Scar wailed, making it to where they were and hiding behind Grian, “It’s a bad idea.”

Grian would have usually been annoyed at Scar hiding away from a fight he could easily win but right now, he didn’t care. He trusted himself a lot more then Scar to survive given his propensity for falling.

“Okay, so we might not be high enough,” Etho conceded through a quite considerable sheen of panic as Joel and Grian dashed forward, swords raised.

Joel went first, skirting across the thin wood that was creaking quite considerably now. Grian hefted his shield and an arrow flung into it, almost breaking the wood. Scar yelped. Joel half fell over and Grian scrambled past him, dodging an arrow around the corner of the awful bridge and swiping his sword, missing the pillagers head as he twisted and hitting his arm, slicing it clean off. Well, no more crossbow. He pulled back his sword and plunged it again, into his chest as he yelled bashing at him with his crossbow. There was a moment of still then he pushed it off the bridge, watching as he fell and hardly even cringing as he hit the ground. He did, however, start to panic as he watched the rest of the pillagers stare at the body before their gaze drifted up. Oh shit.

“Yeah, Scar, we’ve created a Pillager farm,” Grian screamed, all out of patience for his soulmate right now.

“Yep, another one’s here now,” Joel nodded at the solid platform where another pillager was glaring angrily at them.

“Right,” Grian sighed, wiping his sword on his trousers. “You wanna take this one Joel?”

He didn’t need asking twice, heading off quickly down the rickety bridge. Grian turned back to Scar with a glare, all wrapped up in his anger, “I don’t want to base with you,” he snapped, frustrated that he had no choice in the matter. That eventually he’d have to.

That they’d wasted so much time on this stupid goddamn plan.

Scar faltered for a moment, looking like he was going to say something and then shutting his mouth and rolling his shoulders up, shrinking back into himself.

Grian tried to ignore that he knew that posture, pushing on to follow Joel who had already tossed the pillager off the tower. Grian didn’t have time to tell him that was an awful plan. The last thing they needed was the pillagers to be angrier with them than they already were. And it was already pretty bad.

They all followed Joel to the stable platform. The last thing they needed right now was for that thing to crash into a bunch of pillagers down below. They needed to leave but it was starting to become obvious that doing that through the outpost was no longer an option. Scar dragged the crafting table to cover up the entrance.

“Okay, so.” He puffed between breaths, “Technically not my best moment.”

Etho didn’t mention how it was originally his idea and his design.

Grian rolled his eyes and made for the edge, wanting to confirm his suspicion, “Oh, they’re coming after us as well,” he told Joel but actually screamed when he glanced over the edge, scrambling back. A whole damn hoard of them were standing at the bottom, waiting patiently for them to come down, all pointing crossbows.

“Shit,” he mumbled under his breath but none of the others heard him.

“What’s wrong?” Scar glanced up with fear in his eyes at Grian’s scream, raising an eyebrow in a silent gesture of ‘are you okay?’

“Look!” Grian cried, flinging out an arm to point over the edge. Scar didn’t need telling twice.

“Oh my void,” Joel also took several steps back from the edge, staring at Grian who gave him a terrified look, seeking reassurance Joel was clearly not about to give.

Grian gave a nervous laugh to cover up his fear, but his wings were raising on instinct. He forced them back down, setting his shoulders. Get it together.

Joel joined in with the manic nervous laughter and Scar stepped back from the edge, wide-eyed and shaking.

“Scar, I’m gonna tell you what- what I said before,” Grian made for the edge again, shaking his head at the hoard, “And that is this is the most horrific plan I’ve ever, even seen.”

Scar said nothing and when Grian turned he was looking at the ground, biting his cheek. He felt a rush of something like remorse that quickly faded when he heard the splash of water beside him and turned to see Joel grinning, bucket in hand.

“Look!” he laughed, utterly manic, “they’re coming up the water!”

“Why?” Scar mumbled at the same time as Grian screamed, “Why would you do that?” And launched himself at his insane brother, trying to grab the bucket out of his hands.

“I feel like that is so cool,” Etho mused, and Grian gave him a glare. He shrugged, “Like you could use that in so many ways!”

“Look at that,” Joel grinned, something lighting up in his eyes as he held the bucket out of Grian’s reach and watched the pillagers slowly swim up, “that’s so funny.”

“It’s funny and everything,” Scar’s voice was shaking as much as he was, Grian had a suspicion he didn’t find it even a little bit funny. “But- but also scary.”

Joel paid him no attention, waving tauntingly at the pillagers, “Woo! Hey guys!!”

The pillagers seemed to find Joel as obnoxious as the rest of them did, shooting before they’d even gotten onto the platform.

“Joel!” Grian screamed and he glanced up at him, something like fear in his eyes as he stared him down. He turned hastily and collected the water, an arrow flying straight past his ear and wedging itself in the platform. The pillagers fell but not nearly enough of them died. They’d still have to deal with them all when they got to the ground.

“Was that fun?” Grian snapped at him.

“Relax,” Joel shrugged, but he seemed a little apprehensive, “Nobody died.”

“Congratulations,” he snapped sarcastically before turning to Scar with an exasperated smile, “You wanna uncover the entrance?”

“There’s too many down there,” Scar stood, his hands still shaking but his voice more confident.

“How the hell are we supposed to get down then?”

“I have an idea!” Joel grinned, running over to where his boat was still sitting on the platform, near the chests.

Grian groaned, dragging his hands down his face. What had he done this season to end up here?

Be partnered with Scar.

That wasn’t a helpful thought right now.

Etho grabbed his own boat and the two of them dragged them to the edge of the platform, clambering in. “Boat boys!” Joel chimed excitedly.

“And assuming this does somehow not get us killed,” Grian called at him as they began to push themselves towards the edge, “What’s your plan once we get down there?”

“Run?” Joel offered, turning back.

“From the man who brought you, let the pillagers up onto the tower.” Grian rolled his eyes, turning to Scar who was standing by the blocked-up entrance, hands shaking as he crafted something that vaguely resembled a boat.

“Nobody died then. Nobody’s gonna die now.” Joel insisted, throwing his hands up exasperatedly and almost hitting Etho in the face, “You got a better plan?”

And as much as Grian hated it, he didn’t. He helped Scar finish up his boat and dragged it to where Joel and Etho were muttering something about build height. He didn’t even want to know.

“So did we decide this was a bad idea?” It took every drop of patience Grian had left not to yell at Scar for that question. He thought this was fairly obviously a desperate getaway. They weren’t coming back.

“Yep,” He said instead, as calmly as he could manage as he clambered into the boat. “Come on, get in the boat.” When he did, however, they were a little too close for Grian to be comfortable. Especially when Scar flashed him a smile before they got in that made him glad he was sitting down because he was sure he would have collapsed if he’d been standing.

“Hasta la vista!” Joel called, far too cheerily and even Scar who was still practically vibrating with fear gave an enthusiastic, if utterly terrified, “Here we go!”

Then they pushed off the edge and fell into a freefall, down, down, down. Grian’s heart was pounding out of his chest, his blood rushing in his ears and dulling all the sounds of everyone screaming and Joel cheering and Scar yelping his name and the pillagers yelling, the whistle of arrows through the air. His thoughts were a jumbled mess, but one came to him clear as they fell. What a horrific waste of time on a bad idea.

He squeezed his eyes closed, blocking out the swirl of colour that was mostly just the dark brown of Scar’s hair in his face and braced for impact.

Etho felt the impact crash into him, sending vibrations into every corner of his body, every nerve lighting on fire. His vision blurred and for a moment, nothing existed outside the crashing. But then he opened one eye and he wasn’t dead.

The boat had splintered around him, in pieces across the grass, arrows were landing near his head and he scrambled to his feet. He had grazes across his elbows and knees and a several cuts and scrapes across his face that were bleeding rather profusely. His head was throbbing with what he was sure would be at least one bruise and probably much more. His mask had fallen around his neck and he hurriedly pulled it back up to cover his face. Joel beside him was screaming. Grian and Scar crashed down behind him. He could hear the screams and battle cries of pillagers in his ears.

Oh shit.

He started running without even really processing what he was doing, his feet reacting quicker than his brain. The world around him seemed to fade completely, even everyone’s screeching and yelping seemed to disappear entirely.

“Oh my gosh, there’s so many chasing you Etho!” Joel screamed and Etho turned around only for a moment and immediately an arrow flung into his arm and he had to turn and keep running. But he saw what Joel had seen.

“Oh. Etho!!”

What apparently, everyone had seen. The hoard of pillagers were chasing him. There must have been at least a dozen. Oh void, this really wasn’t good.

“They’re all after you!” Joel laughed and Etho couldn’t help but join in, despite how awfully terrified and in pain he was right now. The situation was so stupid and so ridiculous.

“Don’t turn around!” he warned the others, grabbing Joel’s hand so he could stop him from doing exactly that.

They all sprinted as fast as they could away from the hoard, not one of them choosing to leave Etho. He felt a wave of gratitude toward all of them and mentally noted that if they got out of this alive, this could be a very strong alliance.

“Where’s Bdubs then?” He yelled at Joel as they made it to the forest, the pillagers slightly slowed down by the low hanging branches and vines and trip hazardous roots. He’d suddenly had a brilliant idea, “I’ve got to find Bdubs!”

“I’m caught in the middle of it all!” Scar shrieked and Etho glanced back only for the slightest of moments to see Scar, scrambling along in the middle of the pillager hoard, glancing this way and that, trying to find a way out. They didn’t seem to be paying him much attention either, too laser focused on Etho for some reason. Still, he seemed terrified.

“Scar!” Grian screamed and Etho couldn’t help but laugh because how the in the world could Scar still not know.

“I’m caught in the middle!” he repeated as they arrived at an area that had been cleared out and torched up and had a bridge heading over to the other side of the ravine. Etho wondered who was settling here when Joel answered his question.

“Take them to Cleo! Take them to Cleo!”

They were standing near a tree with their ask staring open mouthed, at the hoard.

“Get out of it Scar!” Grian screamed behind him, still in the forest. And apparently, Scar was still in the hoard.

“Hey Cleo, how’s it going?” Etho grinned. She dropped her axe right onto the floor and ran for the bridge, rolling her eyes exasperatedly at them, “This is why you’re yellow!” she yelled.

‘You got time to chat for a sec?” he called after her.

“No!” she yelled back petulantly.

“Do you wanna meet the boys?” Grian caught up with the rest of them, dragging a rather befuddled Scar by the arm.

“No!” Cleo yelled in insistence, making it onto the bridge and not stopping for a moment, hair flying out behind her as the wind assaulted her.

“Bring em across!” Scar cheered, “Bring em across!”

Joel nodded enthusiastically and far faster than Etho reasoned should be possible, “Across the bridge!” he cheered, pumping a fist into the air.

Cleo groaned in frustration as the group of them followed her, “Go away!” she shouted, as they made it to the other side of the bridge. She grabbed a stack of wood from where it had been abandoned by someone’s chests and hurried to the world border.

Etho turned around as Grian who was still sitting on the bridge screamed, stumbling. Scar tugged on the arm that he was still clinging onto to keep him from falling off the bridge and hoisted him so that he could lean on him. He’d been shot in the side, just above his hip. He leaned heavily on Scar as the two of them continued running on but between the two of them, made much slower progress than was safe. Etho suddenly felt incredibly guilty. It had all been fun and games really. Sure it had been scary but in an adrenalin rush fun kind of way. Now Grian was hurt and he felt ill because this was all his fault really. He’d said the outpost was safe, told Scar it was a good idea. Well, at least they seemed to be mostly ignoring Grian and Scar, because he had a horrible feeling if they weren't, the two of them would be dead by now. Still, the pillagers were coming after him.

You don’t know why, that’s not your fault.

But it felt like it.

“Are they still coming?” Joel turned around at Etho’s stillness but then an arrow landed right near his foot and the two of them screamed, hitting each other frantically as they scrambled to leave.

“OH my gosh they’re shooting!” Joel squealed.

They ran on from Cleo who had used the wood to block herself into a box against the border. Etho couldn’t blame them. This wasn’t their mess after all. They continued into the forest, only blurs of green in Etho’s tunnel vision, leaping over roots and ducking through trees. He glanced around and turned sharply, seeing the fields around Bdubs’ base to the east.

“Are they still behind us?” He heard Grian mutter at some point as they burst out of the forest then after a few moments, “YES THEY’RE STILL BEHIND US!” and Scar yelping.

“Joel, what do we do?” Etho was desperate to be asking Joel for advice when his boat plan had gotten them into this mess. But Grian was injured, Scar was worse than Joel when it came to advice and struggling just as much as Grian trying to support him whilst also running, and Etho's plan wasn’t exactly a solution in so much as it made everything worse, for more people.

“I don’t know what we do,” Joel screeched, “This is a nightmare!”

An apt description, Etho was pretty sure he’d had this exact nightmare before, but not a plan. Oh well, they’d have to go with his.

The fields were easier to traverse, but they were too for the pillagers and they had to pick up the speed to avoid the arrows flying willy nilly and stabbing the grass to death all around them. Somehow, only Grian had been shot, only once, and no-one had died. It was a miracle.

“Hey Bdubs,” Joel grinned as they all, though Grian and Scar especially, struggled up the hill. Exhaustion and adrenalin were having a war in Etho’s brain.

“Yeah, yeah?” Bdubs made his way outside, frowning at the four of them and Grian’s hobbling, “Yeah, OW!”

An arrow flung past his arm, nicking it and drawing blood. Etho couldn’t help but grin at the desired outcome.

“Ow, ow,” Bdubs cursed, glancing around at them, unsure who shot the arrow still. The pillagers were still at the bottom of the hill and probably hard to see from the top.

“Uh, we’re brought some friends.” Joel grinned, clapping Bdubs on the shoulder. “Bring em in, Etho, bring em in!”

Etho struggled up the last crest of the hill, doubling over panting by the time he made it to Bdubs. Grian and Scar had slipped past him inside.

“They’re coming!” Etho raised his eyebrows with a coy smile. Joel met his eye, mischief lighting up his.

Despite his injury, Grian’s laugh echoed inside. No such sounds of amusement came from Scar and Etho vaguely wondered if he’d figured it out. Surely, by now.

“Here they come!” Scar’s voice sounded playfully a split second after Etho reached his probably wrong conclusion.

“What’re you bringing?” Bdubs frowned, glaring between Joel and Etho and then at the hill, “PILLAGERS!!” they came over, crossbows raised and Bdubs swore angrily, following a cackling Joel inside, “HEY! HEY!”

Etho dashed in after them and the three of them all attempted to close the door, getting in each other’s way, an absolute frenzy of frantic limbs. “Close it up!” Bdubs screamed, “Close it up!” But they didn’t manage to close it up. The pillagers burst through the doors and the three of them jumped back, running terrified into the house. But there really was nowhere to go.

So then everyone was scrabbling and screaming and running back and forth. Etho sighed and got out his sword, realising he’d have to risk it. Maybe if he could kill a couple, he could close the doors and they could deal with the rest later.

“Oh no! Oh gosh!” Joel screamed, running in circles in the small space.

He noticed Grian was digging a hole in the wall, aiming to get out the other way. Bdubs had gone out the door, yelling, “I’m out! I’m out!”

“Oh gosh!” Joel shrieked again, before standing over Grian’s shoulder yelling “Get out, get out, get out!

Scar pressed his back into the corner, sword out but pale and leaning heavily on his cane, not looking even remotely ready to fight. Etho thought it was quite impressive the two of them were still alive. Though adrenalin seemed to be making them mostly forget their grievances for now.

He swung and managed to chop the head off one which only made the next shoot at him and he managed to wedge the arrow in his shield instead of his skull but he was late with his sword and only nicked his face, scrambling backwards.

He ran for the tunnel Grian had now finished making, following Joel in and shoving some of the dirt to block the entrance.

“Oh no!” Grian yelled from ahead.

“Oh you guys have boxed me out,” Scar yelled from behind.

Etho wanted the wall to consume him. He was tired and overwhelmed and wanted to not be here.

“There’s cows!” Grian shrieked.

This was such a horrible idea.

Eventually, Grian clambered out of the cow pit and Scar managed to fight the pillagers. There was too much shouting and panicking and screaming as everyone’s shields and swords and Bdubs lawn were decorated with arrows and Pillager blood. They eventually got into a flow of combat and managed to take out the pillagers one by one until there were enough to be manageable again and Bdubs started screaming at them for bringing pillagers to his house. Everyone said it had been Etho’s idea. Etho had been panicking horribly, every movement feeling like he was swiping through honey and every sound a little too far away to decipher. He was now very aware that he was culpable for a lot of this. He opened his mouth to say something and nothing came out so he closed it and shrugged. Joel laughed and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

Bdubs sat down and stopped shouting. Grian leaned heavily on Scar, panting and groaning. Scar sat him down before collapsing next to him and they worked on removing the arrow as everyone told the story.

“You alright?” Joel muttered to Etho.

He glanced up at him, smiling a little that Joel had even realised anything was wrong.

“Yeah. Fine.”

Joel just nodded and turned away and Etho stared at him, a grinning slowly settling itself across his face and refusing to go away. His heart fluttered excitedly and his breathing was rapid now for a completely different reason than it had been five minutes ago. Etho didn’t know what all of that meant.

But he was fairly sure he was in love.

Chapter Text

Scott was not prepared for Jimmy’s presence. He’d been very quietly setting his shit up, just minding his own business when he saw him running toward his area, waving and grinning.

“Oh gosh,” he muttered to himself, taking a deep breath.

He could do this. All he had to do was shut him down. Be normal. Get him to leave, would be nice.

“Hello young sir!” Jimmy was far too enthusiastic and it was an insult to both Scott’s nonchalance and his ears.

“Hi,” he scoffed in his best ‘why are you talking to me?’ tone.

“What’re you doing?” Jimmy was really gonna maintain that energy huh? Void, he could be annoying when he wanted to.

Good, yes. That was a good attitude. Jimmy was annoying and he wanted him to go away. He could do that.

“Setting up a base?”

“I’m poor!”

He said it with a grin, like he was expecting Scott to say some matching phrase he didn’t know. It confused him and stressed him out. Was this Jimmy’s idea of begging? Jimmy is annoying. You want him to go away.

“Yep,” he shrugged, “That seems about right.”

“Could I have some stuff?”

Scott sighed. Yes. It was his idea of begging.

“Like what?” he asked, still deadpan, grabbing out his melons just to take a bite. Just to annoy him.

“Anything?”

Cleo had been having a good day until she looked at her communicator. Just for the hell of it. Just checking what was going on in chat. They weren’t even sure why they did it but in retrospect, they were quite glad they did.

“Oh,” she muttered to herself, while a hundred curse words ran through her head, “They’ve been to the nether.”

She made swiftly for the bridge connecting her base to Scott’s, making their way as quickly as they could without exhausting herself. That was the last thing she needed if her soulmate was in a fiery hellscape.

When they got over to the other side of the bridge, Scott was talking to Jimmy, “They’ve been to the nether Scott!” She yelled, taking no notice of whatever conversation the two of them were having. This took priority.

“I know,” he sighed, “It’s only a matter of time before one of us explodes.”

He sounded resigned but Cleo didn’t have the patience for such a calm expression of their frustration. They’d spiralled into rage. She didn’t deserve this! She’d been nothing but sensible all day and her soulmate had been in pain and hadn’t been eating and certainly hadn’t been looking for her and now this! No. They didn’t deserve this.

“How dare they!” she yelled, at Scott, which probably wasn’t fair, it wasn’t his fault, “Go to the nether!”

Scott just sighed, rubbing his eyes and gesturing to Jimmy who stood there with his eyebrows raised in confusion at the two of them, "I've currently got a beggar on my porch.”

“Oh,” Cleo sighed.

“I’m, I’m poor!” Jimmy announced enthusiastically.

Cleo just rolled their eyes. They didn’t have time for this. “So are we. Get over it.”

“Oh right,” Jimmy tutted, turning toward Scott and raising his eyebrows, “Is that, is that how we’re gonna play this?”

Scott said nothing, ignoring the whole ordeal to dig in his chests.

“That’s how we’re play- that’s how it is!” Cleo snapped, glaring at Scott. Jimmy was his problem, not hers.

He stood up from his chests and turned to Jimmy, tossing something glittering green up in the air toward him. Jimmy managed to catch it.

“Oh my gosh!” he turned the emerald between his fingers, staring at it mesmerised and then glanced up at Scott, “What am I gonna do with this?”

“I dunno but you can figure it out,” Scott laughed, smirking at Jimmy.

“Hang on, hang on,” Cleo sighed. If Scott wanted to be nice about it. They grabbed the spare stone pickaxe they’d been lugging around that was currently hanging idly at their belt, “I’ve got- I’ve got something for you.”

She held it out to him and he took it with a small smile that wasn’t really appreciative. But they supposed he didn’t really need a stone pickaxe.

Jimmy glanced between the two of them raising his eyebrows and Scott rolled his eyes.

“We already gave everything we have spare to your soulmate, to be fair.”

Cleo thought that was a valid point then they remembered what they’d picked up in the meadow. They grabbed the bunch of flowers they’d tucked behind their hair and plucked one out of the bunch.

“And, and, and!” she called after Jimmy as he turned to leave. He stumbled back, with a confused and slightly expectant expression.

She held out the little yellow corn flower that twisted in between her fingers. “There you go!”

Both Jimmy and Scott cooed but she frowned at Scott as his hand balled around the fabric of his trousers, usually a sign that he was about to snap. Hadn’t he been fine a moment ago? Had she just not seen the signs? There were usually signs he was going downhill before the tight trouser hold.

“Thank you,” Jimmy smiled sweetly, taking it and tucking it behind his own ear. “Thank you so much.” He glanced at Cleo as he said it but his eyes kept flicking back to Scott. There was definitely something she was missing here.

“Look, it wasn’t me who gave you a flower,” Scott said quietly, avoiding Jimmy’s gaze like the plague.

“It wasn’t,” Jimmy nodded, staring at Scott like he’d die if he took his eyes off him, “It’s moved. It’s past.”

Okay. They’d definitely missed something.

“It’s moved,” Scott nodded, with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “It’s gone.”

Scott finally looked him in the eye and the two of them stood there for several moments, staring at each-other with some weight between them that Cleo couldn’t for the life of her decipher.

Scott was feeling empty and hollow, knowing Jimmy was okay to put it in the past and trying to convince him he was too.

Jimmy was feeling fulfilled that he knew he could finally leave Scott in the past.

But both felt like crying.

“My man said he couldn’t build.”

Tango felt heat rush to his face and neck and could only fear the bright red colour he was no doubt turning. Jimmy’s compliment made his heart feel like it was filling up, threatening to burst out of his chest. Not even touching on the not-so-subtle implication of ‘my man’.

He spluttered out a laugh, jumping from where he’d been standing on top of a really rather rudimentary structure. His knees buckled a bit and he cringed with guilt as he watched his soulmate’s do the same.

“It’s a box, it’s a box, alright?” he shrugged off Jimmy’s impressed gaze, barely managing to get the words out, “It’s not much.”

“This is good!” Jimmy grinned, acting as if Tango hadn’t said anything, running up to the entrance and flashing him a grin, “crafting table for the step! Look at this!”

Oh right. So he was being sarcastic. Of course, yeah, that made sense.

“Oh, I know” he scoffed, rolling his eyes as he followed Jimmy inside the walls, “Super fancy right? Multi block usage, I know. I know.”

The bit was making Tango grin from ear to ear but then Jimmy turned to him with a genuinely sweet smile.

“This looks great dude, it’s looking amazing.” And not a hint of sarcasm there. Tango felt like he might burst.

He rushed forward instead, flinging his arms around Jimmy who still had his pack on but laughed and hugged him back, squeezing him tightly. Tango didn’t know what in the world he’d done to deserve a soulmate like this.

“Another day!” Grian announced loudly, grinning as the sun crept up over the horizon, “Another chance to try and make a base.”

Scar felt his heart sink into his stomach. Grian had been honestly considering involving him in that. Void, he’d fucked that right up. He remembered Grian’s bitter words on the top of the pillager tower and felt like throwing up. He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d actually been as ‘so close to happiness’ as he thought he had been. Grian always found a way to make him feel like the most important and incredible thing in the world. And then like somebody’s abandoned shit the next minute.

Maybe not basing with him was for the best anyway

“That got a little bit dicey,” Scar laughed and Bdubs wanted to scream. Understatement of the century. He was still fuming with anger at the gang of them for just turning up with pillagers in tow and expecting him to help fight them. They were damn lucky there wasn’t a village in this world.

But they also all looked tired and sore and honestly, depressed. He watched Joel comfort Etho and it felt as though he’d slipped into a pocket dimension. Joel, reassuring his teammates? Caring for someone? Calming them!? Surely not.

Then he turned to his right to see Grian adamantly refusing Scar’s help with his wound and sighed to himself. Some things were still right in the universe. Grian was definitely the worst off out of all of them. He was wearing a makeshift eyepatch and the wound in his side looked as though it might scar.

For all his fear of being soulbound to Scar, he seemed to be taking the most hits. And Bdubs still couldn’t believe they were actually paired. Because most everyone else was a relatively fresh pairing. BigB and Ren he supposed had some history from last season. But nobody like Grian and Scar.

“Do you know who your soulmate is yet?” he called to Scar, wondering if Grian had finally bit the bullet and told him.

“No,” Scar sighed, rubbing the back of his neck and glancing over at where Grian was turning a jumper into makeshift bandages, “But I came up with the worst idea, Bdubs.”

He sounded so sullen and disappointed. Bdubs frowned at Grian, staring determinedly at his wound, gritting his teeth. He couldn’t really work out why he didn’t want to tell him. But he supposed he didn’t know a lot about the situation.

“I’m actually thinking it’s a genius idea still,” Etho called from where he was sitting under Bdubs’ spruce tree with Joel asleep against him.

Well, resting. Apparently not asleep because he muttered, “It’s a genius idea except we built the tower too low and all the pillagers got up there.”

Bdubs laughed, shaking his head. None of them could see what an awful idea it would be, in the long run. “I know for a fact that Ren’s already plan- uh making plans to make a water elevator to send them up to you, up there so…”

It seemed easier to throw Ren under the bus than say it was his idea. And Ren had said it was genius hadn’t he?

There was a smattering of rather tired laughter amongst the group followed by sighs and groans of realisation of just how much time was wasted.

“Well, we beat them to it,” Scar shrugged, “We did it to ourselves. Twice.”

That got the laughter a bit more energetic, although Bdubs didn’t understand what they were talking about.

“Yeah, blame Joel for that one,” Grian muttered, finally fixing his bandages.

Bdubs watched the pain slowly fill Scar’s eyes as Grian got up, wincing slightly and blew his horn into the fading night. Maybe he didn’t know they were soulmates. But there was definitely something there he wasn’t letting on. Bdubs flashed him a smile and he returned it, all the pain draining away and only leaving the tired bags under his eyes.

He almost pitied him.

“Do we have a horn for Bdubs?” Scar asked as the follow up cacophony sounded, “He looks sad.”

Bdubs wanted to object to Scar’s bad misreading of his emotions but he didn’t know how to explain to him what he was feeling.

“Oh do you want one Bdubs?” Grian perked up, his gaze flicking up to and actually landing on Bdubs for the first time since they’d arrived.

“Sure, I would love to take one, yeah!”

Impulse wouldn’t approve but Impulse wasn’t here.

Grian went to his pack, scrabbling about and throwing a few tools, trinkets and his communicator on the floor before he found a horn and tossed it to Bdubs.

“There you go!”

Bdubs failed to catch it and it fell in the grass but he scooped it up, running his hand across the smooth surface of it, “Oh what a prize,” he muttered.

“Give it a puff!” Etho called and as Bdubs glanced over to him, he realised he had a hand in Joel’s hair and couldn’t help but frown. What the hell was going on with those two??

Still, he raised the horn to his lips and puffed out, enjoying the resounding hum of it almost as much as the chorus that immediately responded.

“Impulse is gonna leave me,” he muttered and when everyone laughed he glanced up with a grin, elaborating, “He’s so mad about these horns you guys. He said he’s gonna kill all the horn people.”

Grian laughed maniacally and Bdubs could suddenly see how him and Joel were related, “Ah okay,” he scoffed as he shoved all his things back into his pack, “So I might have just armed everybody with horns.”

Bdubs nodded seriously, tucking his horn into his trouser pocket so Impulse wouldn’t find it, “You may have.”

“Right I think I’m gonna go and try and get set up.” Grian grabbed his pack and sword from where he’d abandoned them outside Bdubs and Impulse’s.

Scar felt his heart drop, knowing good things had to come to end and actually watching them wrap up were two very different things.

Then Grian turned, calling offhandedly over his shoulder, “You’re welcome to join me if you want Scar.”

Scar panicked, his heart having a mini disco in his chest as he wondered hopelessly if he actually hadn’t ruined everything? He spent the next split second micro-analysing those nine words to pieces. Were they inviting? Did Grian want him to join him? Or begrudging? They certainly weren’t excited; they didn’t sound like a partnership proposition. But that was what the words were. Weren’t they?

His thoughts spiralled too far and he put an abrupt stop to them, forcing his concern to look ponderous on his face. No. Grian had a soulmate. The more he hung out with him, the worse that would feel. He wasn’t about to be a homewrecker and he wasn’t about to fall into the same habits. He had a soulmate too, someone who he could have a lovely healthy and untainted relationship with. He needed to leave Grian in the past.

It was what was best for both of them and he’d known that a long time now.

“I might go-” He took a deep breath and reached for his pack at his feet, shrugging it onto his shoulders, “I might build a base with the jellies.”

Grian glanced at him with a mixture of emotions Scar couldn’t read past the tired droopiness of his face and then nodded and shrugged, turning away. And that was that. So, Scar grabbed his cane and hoisted his pack up a little further, lingering just a couple more moments to see if he'd change his mind.

But he didn't.

He said a goodbye to Bdubs, Impulse and the boat boys who were still hanging around. Also Grian who still hadn’t set off, for all his plans about basing he’d been swearing by for, what, it must have been at least three days now.

He laughed a little at what an amazingly good procrastinator he was but as their conversation faded into the distance and he began off toward the jungle, his heart felt heavy and every footstep took a little more effort than he’d like. He didn’t want to leave. But he knew he had to. He knew it was for the best. For Grian’s soulmate, for his. And hopefully, for the two of them also.

“Guys, do I- do I leave him alone?” Grian turned to Joel and Etho almost as soon as Scar left. He was quite sure he wouldn’t hear him but whispered just in case. He quite frankly had no idea what to do about Scar at this point. He was already done with chasing him around but it felt wrong to just go off on his own. They were soulmates after all.

“I think you have to,” Etho shrugged, “He’ll get suspicious.”

Grian seriously doubted that. At this point, he was pretty sure he could jump off a cliff right in front of him and Scar wouldn’t realise. And he hadn’t even factored that into his decision anyway. Was it because he was ready to tell him? He didn’t really want to have that conversation if he could avoid it. But he also really didn’t want it to happen because one of them died, because no matter who the culprit was, it would be so much worse.

“Well I just- no the thing is…” He paused, internally chiding himself for spluttering. Scar was already undermining his confidence, “I need to get stuff done and I don’t get-” he continued once his thoughts were in order but was quickly cut off by a piercing pain in his shoulder followed almost instantly by a buckling pain in his legs, “Oh he’s just doing- he’s just in pain!” He yelled the last bit but Scar was long gone by now. And doing void knows what to be in this much pain.

“I need to get food,” Grian mumbled as Joel turned to a rather perplexed Bdubs and explained.

“He still doesn’t know, Bdubs, he still doesn’t know.”

“Oh it’s you and Grian right?” Bdubs misspoke, but Grian understood perfectly, bursting out, “It is!” He sighed and shook his head, repeating the sentence that was going round and round his brain, “He doesn’t know.”

“It’s you and Scar,” Bdubs corrected himself, sighing as he leaned back against a spruce tree growing outside their house, “Okay, yeah. So he has no clue?”

“No,” Grian sighed, adjusting his pack. The strap digging into his shoulder was a good reminder he needed to get moving, to find a place to dump all his things so his poor back could rest. “Apparently not,” his anger returned with a passion at everyone’s sympathetic laughter, "I don’t know how!”

Then after a few moments and more laughter he added, “I literally hit him earlier!” which had Bdubs cackling.

“On top of it,” Bdubs sat down near the tree and Grian set down his pack next to him, begrudgingly resigned to the fact that he wasn’t leaving any time soon, “He seems- he seems sad,” Bdubs shrugged, “that he doesn’t have anybody.”

Grian might have laughed at the irony if it weren’t so bitter. If he weren’t so bitter.

If this weren’t all his fault. Like he hadn’t designed this. Like he hadn’t pushed Scar away just for fate to drag him back. Like he wasn’t the one actively keeping their soulbound a secret from him.

“I guess I’m just gonna go by myself,” Bdubs mocked, complete with a fake pout and everything.

“Well, he’s not here to find anybody either,” Etho frowned, leaning against Joel who seemed uncharacteristically still. Grian supposed not sleeping for several days was affecting even Joel’s endless energy. It was a good point too, that Etho was making. A damn good point. Scar hadn’t actually made any effort to find his soulmate. He hadn’t once tested if Grian was his soulmate. In fact, he’d not mentioned having one at all. Had he just forgotten? Or did he not care? Who did he think Grian was paired with? What type of person did he think Grian was that he didn’t find it suspicious he hadn’t tried testing whether he was soulbound to Scar. Did he really think he’d create a game based around having a soulmate and then just ignore the fact that he had a soulmate in favour of hanging out with Scar? Maybe he did. That was far from a comforting thought.

He really should tell him. He knew that in a place he wasn’t supposed to feel such things anymore. But he just couldn’t. He couldn’t have that conversation. And he didn’t know how to articulate that to the people around him who didn’t, who couldn’t understand what it meant for him, for Scar.

But he could feel their looks of questioning. Of, if he doesn’t know why don’t you just tell him? And he hated that. He hated knowing they thought they were smarter than him. Thought he was being stupid or unreasonable.

“Yeah, that’s true,” Grian tiredly rubbed his eyes, “I could- I could tell him but I think that ruins the fun.”

It was a good excuse. Nice and simple. Besides that, a believable lie. He could reuse it later when others with more harsh penalties for his incompetence than a judgy look asked the same questions, though they would ask them out loud and they’d be more demands than questions.

There was a smattering of laughter and no-one questioned it further. So, Grian took a deep breath and gave a round of goodbyes and headed off.

Etho and Joel decided basing near the pillager outpost wasn’t an awful idea. Etho cleverly pointed out that dragging a shit ton of pillagers around the server could be incredibly useful in the red days and Joel had to agree. Besides that, it sounded like a lot of fun to show up to someone’s house with a pillager army when you were actually allowed to let it kill them

Joel hadn’t pinned Etho as an agent of chaos. Clearly, that was a mistake. He planned things out a lot more than Joel, sure. But he was beginning to realise just because his schemes were thought out, it didn’t make them any less evil schemes.

He was on board with it.

So he was very much on board with Etho’s plans to settle near the outpost. They found a spot against the eastern border, close enough to the ravine that they could run there easily but not close enough that someone could knock them into it. Joel was still pissed at Grian for knocking him off the bridge earlier. He’d nearly had a heart attack.

“Alright Joel,” Etho feigned seriousness as he shrugged his pack onto his shoulder, “When I get back, I’m expecting a big house.”

“Big house?!” Joel burst out, glancing up at him from the farm, “I haven’t even got-”

“Big house.” Etho grabbed his pickaxe and pointed it at Joel, chuckling at his outrage.

“I might have a few farms but no house,” Joel shook his head, “I’m promising nothing!” Just so their expectations were clear.

“Alright,” Etho muttered through laughter and waved Joel goodbye as he head off. He was going out to find food and go caving while Joel stayed behind and got them some sort of base set up. Joel wasn’t quite sure how he’d become a househusband but he didn’t mind not having to go down into the mines. He got horrible claustrophobic and much preferred to be outside, even at night when all the sounds of monsters rung in his ears reminding him that he was very much not safe. At least he could still see the sky and breathe fresh air.

He slept through the night out in the open, which was probably fairly risky but he was so tired, he didn’t care and he could never sleep underground. It was well worth it for how much better he felt in the morning. Running away from pillagers all of the night before had really taken its toll as had the hike back over here that had taken most of the next day. A sleep and breakfast refreshed him, although it felt a little too much like settling down.

That’s what you’re doing, he reminded himself. Because he did want to settle down. With Etho. That was his plan.

But at the same time he hated the idea.

Still, he spent the day making a farm and shovelling dirt across the land to try to make it a little more flat in places. He couldn’t build well on a slope like this.

It was odd, he found as the day went on, every time he was in a little bit of pain, jumping from a little too high, stubbing his toe on his chest or one particularly memorable moment of the day, accidently trying to dig his foot out of the ground and bruising it with a shovel, he felt guilt. He wasn’t used to caring if he were in pain. He certainly wasn’t used to having to look after himself. It made him stop and think before doing things, it made him eat. He vaguely wondered if this series was gonna fix his mental health before remembering it was still a season of the games that had ruined it.

Well, okay, maybe it hadn’t been great beforehand, he honestly didn’t know. But he couldn’t imagine they had helped.

Scar pressed his back against a tree, staring up at the gentle sunlight filtering in through the canopy of bright green leaves. The chirping, twittering sounds of the jungle filled his ears with a serene calm sorely needed. There was a far-off rushing of water but no sign of a waterfall or creak anywhere nearby. The jungle stretched to the world border and the enveloping feeling that usually accompanied the climate didn’t quite extend in the odd snippet not big enough even to be called a forest. Still, there was something comforting about the thickness of the air and the consuming shadow of the canopy.

It was a much-needed comfort because Scar really wasn’t having a good day.

It wasn’t just that he was thinking about Grian. Because he was trying incredibly hard not to. No. He was having a bad day because his plan hadn’t worked and he’d almost killed his friends. Then…well, okay, maybe he was thinking about Grian a little bit. He’d just been so angry about the plan not working, so furious at Scar but not even a little surprised. And something about that felt so awful, a deadening déjà vu.

I don’t want to base with you, Scar.

The words themselves and the bitter venom with which they were spat, were spinning around his mind until it felt ready to fling out of its orbit. Reminding him how badly he’d gone and fucked everything right up.

His heart leapt and tears sprung to his eyes, thinking about everything that could have been. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and trying to remind himself it probably wouldn’t have been anyway.

Grian has a soulmate. He did too. These thoughts weren’t helping anyone.

Okay, so it was mostly about Grian.

But he’d also fallen in a pit and almost died to a skeleton, which hadn’t improved his mood. Well, mood might have been an understatement. More like, rapidly deteriorating mental health. He’d been on the verge of a panic attack since he’d gotten trapped inside Bdubs’ house with a hoard of pillagers. Almost dying in a pit hadn’t helped and now he felt dead inside every time he thought about anything that had happened all week. All the days he’d wasted on Grian. The failed plan. Even spending time with Bdubs at the very beginning of the week was tainted now by jealousy of how quickly and happily he’d left with Impulse.

Scar held a hand to his mouth against the sob building in his throat. He was shocked he’d lasted this long without breaking down crying. But it was okay, because he was here, in the jungle with no-one else anywhere nearby and the cover of trees pushed close together and cloaked in shade that was almost darkness. He could cry all he wanted.

He ended up on the floor with his head leant back against the tree trunk. Through his blurry vision and the sting of his tear-stained cheeks, he spotted the pandas, not too far away through the trees and he couldn’t help a smile even if it were tainted by the salty taste on his tongue.

He watched as the group of them ambled toward him, all grey fur and large imploring eyes. If he squinted, he could almost imagine they were cats, prowling across a carpeted floor seeking food and cuddles. The thought struck him as incredibly odd. He hadn’t the faintest clue where it came from.

He held out his hand as one got close enough to sit nearby him and it put a paw in his hand, watching him curiously. He giggled, shaking its paw and then putting it back down on the ground. His nerves already seemed to be easing. The jellies cemented a strange peace inside him, filling his heart with joy that felt more solid than anything he’d ever had in these games. It was tangible and it felt like home. Maybe because jellie was from home. He sat down against the tree again and watched the panda slink back to its group. He took a deep breath and squinted into the canopy, a vision already filling the empty space among the trees. Treehouses, he’d decided. Cut little treehouses nestled amid the leaves, with cute little bridges connecting them. He could already see the village in his mind, shining through the forest on a dark night. The thought brought him almost as much comfort as the jellies. He pulled himself up and grabbed his pickaxe from the pack he’d abandoned on the floor beside him and headed over to a mountain that disappeared into the world border. He figured a little cave house was the best option right now.

A few hours later, he lay on the floor of a fairly small dug out cave, staring up at the rocky roof and all the intricate patterns in the chunky stone. It was more of a hole than anything, but it would do for now until he could find a way to climb the trees. Maybe he could do it with daggers if he could find the energy. But he’d already wasted so much time on the outpost and he was utterly exhausted. Between the run away from the pillagers, whilst also supporting Grian's weight and having hardly slept for days, and now having dug out a cave house. There was definitely something uncanny about these games. He was sure that wasn't a normal amount of energy to have, or a normal roster of things to do on barely any sleep. But maybe it was just the threat of imminent death keeping people trucking.

The light filtering in through the somewhat haphazard door (it would keep the monsters out for now, but it was far from a permanent solution) began to fade. Scar closed his eyes jus for a moment, taking a deep breath. He knew he had too much to do, expanding his farm to get some food going, for example, probably should have been top of his priority list. But he really needed to sleep. It was a bone deep ache throughout his body, making the rocky ground seem like the softest warmest pillows. He found he couldn’t keep his eyes open and even the turbulent swirling of his thought calmed as the numb allure of sleep washed him into unconsciousness.

The door, whilst apparently withstanding against eh mindless beating of a zombie, was no match for the quiet intelligence of a panda and Scar woke up with a furry face right in front of his. He squealed, sitting up very straight and scrambling away until he saw the jellie, with its big eyes, staring imploringly at him.

“OH you’re so cute,” he gushed, crawling forward again to cuddle it. It seemed not to dislike his presence or his rather excessive cuddling. It seemed to actually like him. He eventually sat back against the wall of the cave and the panda slumped tiredly against him. He grinned at it but even in all its cuteness, it could hardly hold his attention. He fidgeted obsessively with his soulbound, twisting it between his fingers.

He watched the place where it disappeared right in front of him. It fascinated him in the same way as the world border, but it also terrified him in the same way. He was bound. And someone, more importantly, was bound to him. Another person forced to endure him. It was almost more bitterly ironic that it wasn’t Grian. The panda slumped onto him a little more and he let out a shaky laugh, wrapping the soulbound around the panda’s shoulder. It watched it with the same befuddled interest he had when it had first appeared.

“Who needs a soulmate?” His laugh was cut off by a tug in his heart and he sighed. Probably his soulmate. Then, all of a sudden, it was a searing, burning pain that shot into his hands and head. And he was grasping and groaning, clutching at his head. Then it began to fade, leaving him with a dull ache and a confused frown because he was very aware of the fur tickling his face and his ears, sitting on top of his head. He widened his eyes, staring beside him at the panda who looked at him like he was the most amazing thing in the world. He held a shaking hand to his face and felt the fur there, running his fingers across it before letting them drift up to his head. He actually laughed out loud when he felt rounded fluffy panda ears there. But panic gripped his throat. What had he done? He stared at the panda beside him who tilted its head with a silly panda smile. And soon, Scar had the same silly panda smile, grabbing his face with his hands over and over, “oh my god,” he chuckled, carefully unwrapping the soulbound from the panda. It seemed to unwind itself, falling back into place, stretching into the air. He’d hoped for a moment, that would undo whatever he’d done, but his furry features very much remained.

He grinned, laughing into the dampened quiet of the cave. Well, that was that. He supposed he’d just accidently soulmated himself to a panda.

“Absolutely don’t care who my soulmate is!” he cheered as he watched the jellie get up and amble over to his chest, making a rather failed effort to open it.

“I’m among my people.”

He stared up at the stony roof again. Yes. The jellies were better than any soulmate. But why was this one scratching at his chest? Was it looking for food? What did pandas eat anyway? Bamboo, wasn’t it?

He stretched and stood, opening the chest much to the jellie’s joy and scrambling through it. Did he have any bamboo or did he have to go outside and grab some? He made his way out, basking in the slivers of sunlight slipping through the shade of the trees. He wandered through the small area of jungle to the world border where he was sure he’d seen some bamboo when he’d been there earlier. But when he arrived, followed by a grumpy, hungry panda, there wasn’t any bamboo anywhere in sight. He frowned, chewing on his bottom lip as he glanced around the clearing and racked his memory. He was sure there had been bamboo here when he’d come earlier. Surely his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him? Already?

No, someone had probably just taken it, in the way people did in this server. It was easy to grow and a fairly good defence against intruders that looked like nice foliage. He compiled a list of potential suspects, already gathering his things. He would find the bamboo thief and then he would come back home and feed the jellies and start making a more permanent living situation than the hole in the mountain side.

That sounded like a fine plan to Scar

A horn sounded in the distance and Tango glanced up from his crafting bench. It was near impossible to work out where it had come from, the way the sound carried across the world.

“I feel like we need to get our own goat horn,” Jimmy muttered from around the other side of their box house, “This is…”

“I know!” Tango sighed, grabbing his water from where he’d abandoned it just inside, “Now we’re just being insulted right?”

“Yeah,” Jimmy mused absent mindedly, wandering back round the front of the house and flashing a grin at Tango as he ducked inside.

-

“Tango?” Jimmy called, unable to disguise the hint of fear in his tone. His quest for chickens had quite quickly turned into a quest for cows and now he had a whole family of them, following him and licking at his arms as he hoisted wheat above their heads. They were all staring at him with their big eyes and he was starting to panic. There were too many of them and they were all way too close and rubbing against him and he was tired and he hadn’t the foggiest clue what to do with them.

“Yes?” his soulmate called back, sounding a bit concerned. Another rough tongue assaulted Jimmy’s arm and he cringed, watching the herd like they might pounce on him.

“Um,” He really needed help and he really wanted to show Tango that he could be a good soulmate. He’d gotten cows! Like he asked!

“How’s it going?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m in the house,” Tango opened the door and his eyes went wide, his mouth hanging open as he stared at the herd, “Ohh you’re amazing!!” he clapped his hands and jumped down the steps to Jimmy who’s grin was ear to ear, a fluttering feeling upsetting his empty stomach and a hot blush settling across his face.

“Ohh, you are so- look at you!” Tango was grinning at him like if he weren’t barricaded out by a herd of cows, he could have kissed him. “You’ve got a beef army!”

“I’ve got a family!” Jimmy cheered, skirting his way around the herd and bumping into several disgruntled cows as he made for the door.

“Look at this,” Tango gushed, standing back inside so Jimmy could make his way in.

“Right,” Jimmy frowned, “How do we? Are they gonna fit through this door?”

“Um well, if we break the door down maybe,” he grabbed his axe and swung at where he’d connected it to the wall, really not wanting to have to carve a hole in the wall itself for the cows. But everyone knew in these games, you couldn’t just leave your animals out in the open when you didn’t have very many or they’d get murdered or stolen. “But hey!” he grinned as Jimmy muttered, “Let’s get it off,” while pushing a cow away that tried to lick his face.

“I-” Tango proclaimed excitedly as he finally go the door of its hinges and moved it out of the way, “I also had some luck! As well!”

“No way,” Jimmy walked backward through the door, holding the wheat out for the cows who couldn’t seem to get through, pushing and shoving and butting each other out of the way.

“The chicken operation I have like five chickens down there right now, yeah.”

“No WAY!”

Tango laughed, “We’re basically like animal- we’re just- yeah we’re…” he closed his eyes to think, forgetting the word, “Veterinarians! That’s us.”

It wasn’t quite right he supposed, but farmers could be talking about crops and he didn’t know a word for specifically raising animals.

“We’re just raising animals,” he sufficed, glancing at the door where Jimmy still couldn’t get the cows inside. They were going to have to break down the wall weren’t they?

“We’re good for something!” He laughed, turning to face Tango and causing the cows to unsuccessfully clammer even more for the wheat in his hand.

“Yeah,” Tango rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, “Ranchers!” that was a closer word, “Team rancher.”

Jimmy grabbed out his pickaxe, confirming they were absolutely going to have to break the wall down. He threw a grin over his shoulder, “Team rancher.”

Neither had ever felt so at home.

Getting things set up went a lot quicker once Grian wasn’t babysitting Scar. It took the better part of a day and he’d found chickens and sheep and got a wheat farm planted. He’d even sorted his things into a chest although it was currently out in the open. It was nice to put his things down, even if, as the sun set again, he still didn’t have anywhere safe enough to take his armour off, or risk sleeping.

Still, the lack of a pack dulled the ache in his bones.

He’d like to have gotten some sugarcane. It was always the sort of thing that got taken from riverbanks and lakes right at the beginning of the season and then fought for right up until the last of the red days.

He’d like to get a head start on that.

But right now, that wasn’t the priority. It was getting a consistent food source going so that Scar didn’t get the both of them killed.

He was being a little harsh. Honestly, he was insanely impressed with Scar. Sure, he’d been absolutely extortionate amounts of pain and hadn’t exactly been the most reliable teammate. But the latter was probably because he didn’t know he was a teammate and he hadn’t actually died yet. Which was probably a scar PB, to not lose a life in the first week.

And now he’d abandoned him. He really did need to tell him they were paired.

But first, he had to get something set up. Him and Scar were a bad combo. They rarely got anything done. He was equal parts excited and full of dread at the prospect of that.

“Oh why hello there!”

Grian had been alone for the better part of two days now and Scar’s voice scared the living daylights out of him, violently fracturing whatever bubble of denial he’d been living him. He jumped, turning around with his sword already in his hand, pressed against Scar’s neck before he could even process it was him. Because even once he saw him, his face was all furry, his ears sticking out his head. What the hell. He had a cat head. Grian’s heart leapt for his throat and he had to take deep breaths to calm it, lowering his sword and tucking it into his belt but taking several step backs for safety and out of concern.

“What’s wrong?” Scar frowned, face full of concern for him for just a moment before getting distracted by Grian’s chicken and running over to coo at it.

“How have you done…” He cried, but he didn’t even know how to finish the sentence because he wasn’t entirely sure what had happened. Was it even Scar’s doing. Yes. Almost certainly. “What you’ve done.”

“What?” Scar frowned, but he could see the beginnings of a grin lifting at his cheeks.

“How have you got a cat head?” Grian couldn’t believe he had to clarify such a thing.

Scar laughed, “Ohh, I found my soulmate.”

Grian’s heart leapt for a second, wondering if that’s why Scar was here. If someone had told him, if he’d somehow figured it out? No. He seemed too casual. And that didn’t answer the question about the cat head. Scar turned around to face him fully.

Grian screamed, stumbling backwards and tripping almost immediately, staring up at Scar, who towered above him even more when he was on the floor and terrified him even more now that he’d oddly deformed himself.

Grian didn’t know what was going on. He wasn’t sure he wanted to find out. He wanted to throw up. And he wanted to not have just been jump scared by his soulmate with a few panda features that, admittedly, looked more like cat features.

“I’m living with the jellies!” Scar smiled serenely, offering Grian a hand, talking like it wasn’t a big deal.

“Oh my goodness,” Grian groaned, taking his hand and standing up, staring at him with open mouthed shock. Of all the terrifying things Scar had done, this was the worst.

“By the way,” Scar moved past him, glancing at his wheat with an approving nod and then turning back to face him. Grian almost preferred it when his back was turned. “Someone harvested all the, uh, all of the bamboo and I am on the hunt for those culprits.”

Grian could only take deep breaths, trying to steady himself, assuming Scar had done some weird ass magic and hoping for his sake that it was easily reversible.

“Okay,” he sighed, shaking his head, still trying to wrap his head around what the hell was going on with Scar right now. Bdubs had said he was sad. But he seemed perfectly content now. Calling the stupid cat pandas his soulmate. He needed to tell him. Now. Before this got out of hand.  “Well,” he shrugged, “Uh, it wasn’t me.”

Close enough, right.

“Uh I have something-“

“Alright, well I’m gonna keep looking for those rapscallions,” Scar called cheerily, throwing a wave over his shoulder as he ran off, already skidding down the hill.

“I had something to tell you,” Grian muttered, knowing full well Scar couldn’t hear him. He’d already run off. He’d already found his ‘soulmate’. He just didn’t care. He felt tears prick at his eyes and alone in his clearing, actually let them fall for once, for the first time since the ravine. The first time since he’d found out. He let himself cry all the tears he’d been keeping back. It was overwhelming and all consuming. He didn’t regret for a moment bottling them until now. Because now all he could think about was Scar as he choked on all the tears he hadn’t cried for Scar.

“I had something to tell YOU!”

Jimmy was having an odd day, all things considered. He supposed there weren’t normal days when you lived in and endless cycle of death games. That thought was not the least bit comforting, so he ignored it.

He’d left Tango with a plan to get a goat horn. He was starting to feel incredibly left out. Everyone sounding their horns across the map and every single time everyone responded. It felt like a secret club that he wasn’t in. He wanted one. He needed one. And he knew just the man who would give him one.

From what he’d heard, rumours spreading across the server like wildfire, travelling as far as the sound of the stupid horns, Grian was the man to go to if you were seeking a horn. He’d given one to just about everyone Jimmy had spoken to who had a horn. Surely, surely, he'd have one for his brother.

He’d gone across to the pillager tower because that had been his idea from what he’d heard. Or his soulmates, which seemed more plausible. No-one was there and Jimmy had to run away to avoid being shot to death. He’d stumbled across the beginnings of someone’s farm bordered with spruce and across the ravine he spotted Grian and his face split in a grin. He had a similar farm bordered with wood, though his was birch and considerably smaller. There he was! Over on the other side, fairly near his and Tango’s house. The man who would have a goat horn for him.

Jimmy began to run over, catching sight of a rickety looking bridge that connected the two bases. Tango had said Joel and Etho were responsible for the pillager tower. Did Grian have something going on with Joel and Etho? Was Scar involved? He didn’t have any of the answers but either way, he was grateful for the bridge.

He couldn’t help but miserably think he was going to cross the bridge and go up to Grian’s farm and he would have just disappeared.

He bumped into Joel making his way to the farm but he hurried past him, desperate to get to Grian, to get his horn and get back to Tango.

But he’d barely started across the bridge, he caught sight of Scar and felt a knot of confusion force his face into a frown he couldn’t even begin to think about hiding.

“Why is Scar a cat?”

It wasn’t the weirdest thing Scar had done…actually, it may well be up there.

“Timmy, Timmy,” Scar sang as he practically ran across the bridge with zero regard for safety towards him. He must’ve heard his question because he shrugged and said, “Oh, I found my soulmate guys, look,” like it was no big deal that he had, were they cat features? No. Those weren't cat ears. They were, bears? Pandas? Joel and Jimmy exchanged a concerned expression.

“I found Jellie!” Scar smiled serenely.

There were plenty of things Jimmy wanted to say, needed to say to address this. But instead he just stared in open mouthed shock and wondered who Jellie was.

“What have you done?” He cried when he calmed down enough to form words.

Scar seemed remarkably unperturbed and even Joel just seemed sceptically resigned.

“Don’t tell me you’ve ditched your soulmate,” Jimmy felt really bad for, wait, was it Grian that was paired with Scar? Someone had said that right? “because you’ve-”

“Oh I haven’t found my soulmate?” Scar shrugged and Jim frowned. Everyone on the server knew who Scar’s soulmate was as far as he knew. Even his soulmate did. But he didn’t? Still? How was that possible. “I don’t care either.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that, raising an eyebrow at Joel who just shrugged with an incredulously, quietly cackling.

“Um, quick question for you?” Scar asked over both their laughter, “Have you- any of you…seen the- uh, uh the bamboo napper.”

And when they both just stared at him blankly he elaborated, “Somebody took all the bamboo out of the bamboo area where the- where the- uh pandas are.”

“No,” Jimmy shook his head, a little worried he was being accused.

“I’ve not seen any bamboo to be honest with you,” Joel shrugged, heading off the bridge and back up the hill toward his house.

“I will literally give them all of my armour and everything I own,” Scar announced, shaking his head melodramatically “Even my horn,” he added, swinging it up in his hand and blowing it for all the world to here. Jimmy straightened up, grinning.

“I’ll take the horn!” It came out before he could even register it wasn’t remotely pertinent in the conversation. “I’ll, I’ll take that.”

“Yeah, but you don’t have the bamboo,” Scar chuckled, scrunching his face in confusion.

Jimmy turned away, already distracted staring up at Joel who was now just standing and watching curiously from the hill, “Wait have you-”

“I’ve also got a horn,” Joel confirmed, clearly reading Jimmy’s desperate gaze.

“Wait,” he turned back to Scar just to check he didn’t have the manic ‘I’m gonna push you off the bridge’ glint in his eye and then back to Joel upon confirming he didn’t, “Joel, can I have that?”

He knew it was a long shot. But surely, surely. Joel wasn’t a club guy. Surely he found the horns annoying. It seemed like the sort of thing that would drive him up a wall if he didn’t initiate it. And who had initiated it anyway?

“No sorry,” Joel shook his head turning away to head up the hill, “I need to go build my farm. Etho expects me to build a house and he’s just gone mining for me.”

And then he was gone up the hill and Jimmy sighed, turning back to Scar who watched him with a pitiful expression on his cat face. Jim smiled, hoping that meant he’d give him stuff and Scar rolled his eyes, “Okay, you’re making me feel sad.”

He held out his spyglass and Jimmy took it with a grin, “Ooh thanks!”

It wasn’t what he wanted but he’d take a spyglass and he wasn’t about to push him. He was unnerving him with that weird cat head of his. But then Scar took off and Jimmy cursed himself for getting distracted by a shiny thing, running after him.

“Um, Scar!” he called and he turned around frustratedly, raising a strange furry eyebrow expectantly. “Does Grian have a horn?” he asked, straight to the point since Scar seemed to be on a mission.

“Yeah,” he shrugged, turning away again, “He’s got like five.”

Jimmy followed him off the bridge of Grian’s side of the ravine, scrambling up the hill after him, “Don’t tell him I said that by the way,” Scar yelled back at him as he fell right off the edge of a tall piece of rock, cursing as he landed down below.

“Scar!” Jimmy called, leaning over the edge to glance down.

“I’m okay!” the other man called back, grabbing his cane and dragging himself to his feet, already finding another path up the hill. “But if you find the bamboo, please let me know!”

Jimmy made some half-assed promise to do so, quietly thinking Scar was a madman and Grian had his bloody work cut out for him trying to keep him safe. He headed up to Grian’s farm which was not a fun trek up the hill. But it was okay. He didn’t care the walk. He didn’t even care about whatever the fuck was going on with Scar and his weird cat/panda head.

He was going to get a goat horn.

Chapter Text

As first weeks went in these games, BigB found he couldn’t complain.

He hadn’t died; he hadn’t been robbed. He hadn’t even made any enemies.

Mostly.

Instead he had a decent start on the ugliest base on the server, a wheat farm coming along nicely and a brilliant soulmate in Ren. There was something so comforting about his calm confidence. He always knew what he was doing. He always had a plan. And on top of all of that, Ren liked him. He seemed so genuinely thrilled that they were soulmates. BigB didn’t know how he could be happier. Probably if the weight of both their impending doom wasn’t weighing on his mind. That might’ve made him slightly happier.

Because whilst ever he had something he cared about, someone he trusted and possibly even loved, he had something, someone to lose. And that terrified him.

Then again, the alternative to losing Ren wasn’t one he wanted to entertain. He wasn’t even sure if it could happen this season. Could soulmates betray soulmates? He honestly didn’t know until he and Ren met Cleo and Scott who explained their…unusual situation. Yes. It turned out, yes. People absolutely could betray their soulmates. It had barely even been a week and the two of them already had. On green no less. Though BigB supposed betraying a soulmate was betraying fate and in turn, revolting against those who’d sewn it.

Leave it to Scott point a giant middle finger at the Watchers before anyone was even Red. And leave it to Cleo to jump on board without a second thought.

Ren’s plan for a base had not at all been what BigB was expecting, but he was a hundred percent on board with it. Honestly, he was in for the ride at this point. Whatever scheme Ren had, well, he’d be wasting a life not to jump on board.

They were soulmates after all.

Ren had explained his idea for a gigantic, ugly and heavily defended base. It seemed thoroughly thought through. He couldn’t help but gush about how smart Ren was, even when the concepts were something BigB had known for years. The idea about building right on the edge of a world border, hadn’t that been what Scott had been on about back in third life? He was pretty sure most people had worked that out but he appreciated Ren’s enthusiasm and his theatric gestures and his excited grins that bordered creepy in an endearingly frightening way. A “I’m glad this guy’s on my team not anyone else’s” kind of way.

The ugliest base ever seen.

Well, he’d had worse legacies.

BigB couldn’t figure out how to get a goat horn despite hours of trying. It was really starting to irritate him because the goat seemed to love him which meant they wouldn’t charge him and he couldn’t get their horns. Jimmy came by at one point asking for one. BigB explained to him how to get one and let him go about it but he gave up fairly quickly.

Probably a smart choice.

Him and Ren kept missing each other, ships in the night. He wasn’t entirely sure when Ren slept, to be honest. Once their house had tall enough walls for no monster to climb over, he slept through the nights on the floor. Usually in a situation like this, he’d use a shirt or jacket as a pillow. But this world was just too cold. Especially up on goat mountain, in the middle of the night, on his own, in the large empty space of the box castle that still didn’t have a roof.

He was just lucky it didn’t rain.

Still, when him and Ren did see each other, mostly during the daytime when BigB woke and Ren came back from his various overnight escapades, it was like puzzle pieces slotting into place. They had a rhythm, a pattern. Something about the two of them, together, in unison. It felt so natural. So comfortable and easy. BigB didn’t know what love was, but he was fairly sure he was close.

And after one long day at the end of the week and a particularly longer night spent in a spectacularly failed hunt for cows which included making something of an enemy out of Scott, the two of them trekked together through the sunrise, to BigB’s annoyance, away from their base.

But it was hard to be too annoyed because Ren was holding his hand and dragging him along and calling, “Just a little further!”

They ended up halfway across the map from their base, on a hill that had a nice vantage point to view the ‘box base in all it’s glory’ as Ren so enthusiastically put it. He sat down and dragged BigB with him who laughed as he fell and adjusted himself to sit in the same cross-legged position as Ren, following his gaze to the box, silhouetted against the dawn.

“Aww, look at that!” Ren grinned beside him at BigB only momentarily before returning his gaze to the horizon. It made his heart leapt out of his chest and he forced himself to calm. “That looks good.” He nodded approvingly, tucking his legs up to his chest and rested his chin on his knees.

“It actually looks really cool in the setting,” Ren mused, sprawling out his legs and tilting his head as if to catch it at a different angle. BigB couldn’t help an affectionate laugh. He drew his attention at last to the box, where it had been focused on Ren beside him and his well- simply his way of being that made him terrifyingly energised despite the long night and lack of sleep. But the box was beautiful too. In an uglier way. It did look pretty cool and ominous, especially with the pink clouds behind it. So tall and foreboding, as if it were glaring down the world. It was the sort of confidence and courage the two of them, particularly BigB (Ren seemed to have an oozing abundance of confidence and courage) were going to need to get through the season.

“It really does.” He sighed, the sun warming his skin as the moment worked similar wonders on his heart. He had a soulmate and they had a house together. Even if that house were a terrifying box castle. It was still incredible. “It’s- it’s perfect!”

Ren laughed and flashed him a grin and then after a moment of comfortable and weary silence he added, with a lot less energy, “The perfect box.”

Ren shook his head laughing and then nodded enthusiastically, “It is a perfect box.”

Another one of those silences, huh? BigB could deal with that. They weren't entirely uncomfortable.

“For a perfect pair.”

BigB was startled by Ren’s hand taking his again. It was one thing when they were walking, when Ren was dragging him along but this was- this was…

“Oh to the end BigB,” he cheered up into the sky before turning to his partner with the sweetest smile, his face far too close. Oh void.

“You and me,” he practically whispered as the light of day beamed in golden light, trickling through the grass and blinding BigB with a sunbeam right to the face. He turned to look at Ren instead. “To the final!” Ren continued with a mischievous glint in his eye that simultaneously terrified and intrigued BigB. He didn’t lean away.

But then Ren did, looking down at his boots with a forlorn expression that BigB couldn’t quite read. There was an odd silence, their hands still intertwined but a stiffness between them. The dissipation of the moment that could have been.

“Do we have to kill each other in the final?” Ren’s voice was quiet and full of concern. None of his courage and confidence. He sounded…scared.

BigB didn’t blame him of course. Scary thought. One he was trying very hard to ignore and hadn’t even thought he’d bring up with his soulmate. Especially not Ren. Not after everything that had happened last season, how well they both knew what answer the past gave to that question. But here they were.

And although the openness of the question caught him off guard, he knew his insight immediately.

“I hope not.”

It wasn’t an answer. He didn’t have the answers. He just had the meek consolation that he was asking the same questions.

“Yeah,” Ren sighed and leaned his head back, closing his eyes and staring into the brightening sky. BigB watched him curiously and in concern, his heart thudding with the joint quickening of fear both him and his soulmate were feeling. He was sure.

“We can just draw right?” Ren finally looked back to BigB with a sad smile.

“Yeah, we’ll draw” BigB nodded enthusiastically, “Yeah. We’ll draw.”

“Yeah.”

The two of them stared at each other for a moment, their faces almost touching and a certain weight between them. All the things they never said to each other last season. All the things they still weren’t saying now. But the firm knowledge that they had time to work through it, to acknowledge it. To move on from everything that happened in the past. To somehow, just maybe, stay loyal to one another this time. Until the very end.

Ren thought the finale.

BigB thought that was probably wishful thinking.

Ren looked back at the box.

BigB’s eyes stayed fixed on him.

“And you’ll somehow still win but it’s okay,” BigB joked with a shrug, nudging Ren who looked up at him again and then threw his head back with a laugh that mingled with the birds that began to call in the morning air. BigB joined in, with the laughing and the bird song and the joyous sounds of morning.

Yeah. This could be something really special.

Jimmy’s day went from good to weird to great to horrible in the span of an hour. He was only grateful he could go back to Tango’s and cry and his soulmate didn’t ridicule him for being sensitive or tell him it wasn’t a big deal. He was pretty sure he’d won the lottery with Tango.

When he made it to Grian’s, only minutes after he’d seen him from the other side, the farm was empty, the silence broken only but the faint clucking of chickens and whistle of wind through the wheat. Jimmy stopped dead in his track, staring around with his mouth open, annoyance slowly building. No way. he’d known this was gonna be one of those moments where he saw Grian, came over and he wasn’t actually there somehow.

No way that had just happened.

“You better not be stealing my stuff!”

Jimmy spun at the sound of Grian’s voice and saw him running down the hill, sword in hand. Jimmy flung his hands up in surrender, “No, I’m not! I’m not!”

“Don’t-” Grian skidded to a stop in front of him and raised his sword, pointing is straight at his face. He took a few stumbling steps back but Grian closed the gap, “I see you!” he snarled.

“I’m not!” Jimmy spluttered, gaze unblinkingly fixed on the sword, “I’m not!”

Grian glared at him, holding eye contact for several moments before carefully lowering his sword.

Jimmy took a deep breath to calm his hammering heart. The knowledge that Grian couldn’t actually kill him wasn’t at all the consolation it should have been.

“I’m here for one reason only.”

“What’s that?” Grian snapped, chucking his sword into the grass and turning to his chests.

“I pray every night,” he implored, taking one step toward Grian but pausing when he threw a glare over his shoulder, “That I meet, a man, who has a horn.”

Grian’s hostile posture immediately melted and he turned around with a sympathetic groan. Jimmy was happy to embrace that energy.

“And I’ve heard, you are the man.”

“Aw no,” Grian cringed at him, “Tim.”

Wait no, bad sympathy. Pre-emptive sympathy.

“No,” he sighed, “No.”

“Tim,” Grian shook his head, a fairly disappointed smirk spreading across his lips. It was tinged with a cruel anticipation and Jim felt his heart drop to his stomach.
“Don’t-” he muttered, squeezing his eyes closed as frustration built in his throat.

“I’ve given- literally, I’ve given everyone a horn.” He pulled one out from where it had been hanging at his belt and for a moment Jimmy got his hopes up wondering if that was for him, if this was it. Instead, he just blew the horn, a crisp melody that echoed through the trees around and said gently, “I’m all outta horn.”

But he was smirking like he was enjoying this.

Jimmy laughed, but he had a bad feeling it was covering up a sob. He honestly wasn’t sure why he cared about this so much. Maybe it was just the culmination of everything that had happened this week. Or maybe it was a manifestation of how left out he’d been feeling, how less than and undervalued. But a horn suddenly felt like the most important thing in the world.

“No, you’re not,” he groaned, “Don’t tell me you’ve been giving them out willy nilly and you’ve got…”

Grian cringed, a wincing sort of smile, “I’ve been giving them out,” he explained with a whine in his voice, “Because you know, they’re heavy, they take up space, I’m not bothered to carry them!” he sighed and put a hand on Jim’s shoulder moving past him, “Sorry. This is my last horn.”

Jimmy groaned, putting his head in his hands and sitting down in the grass.

“Do you know how painful it is you blowing that and hearing everyone-“ he was interrupted with a bitter irony by a fairly close horn sound and a sob actually caught in his throat. He swallowed it down, yelling because anger was easier, “Stop! Oh my gosh!”

“I tell you,” Grian shrugged nonchalantly, either not realising how genuinely distraught Jimmy was, or not caring. “There is a secret club of horns and the non-horns.”

Which undeniably made Jimmy feel worse.

A secret club of everyone who was good enough to have a horn. And Jimmy, pathetic always dies first Jimmy, just wasn’t good enough.

“No. I need to be in the club. Can you please tech me the ways of how to get a horn?” Because if anyone was going to help him, surely it would be Grian.

“Ah,” he muttered again, like a curse under his breath. Jimmy’s heart sank, “You know, most of the goats have lost their horns.”

“Are you telling me there’s no way to get a horn anymore?”

Grian gave him a pained smile that answered the question perfectly on its own.

Jimmy shook his head, disbelieving and completely unsure why he cared so much about all of this. It was just a stupid horn. It didn’t matter.

“If I find out you’ve got two horns in your pockets,” Jimmy sighed, shaking his head at his brother who flung his hands up in defence.

“Oh I don’t-” He turned out one of his pockets, dropping seeds and a few lumps of coal into his hands, “I don’t know how to show you…”

“No I believe you.” Jimmy sighed, very aware of the frustrated tears pricking at his eyes. He didn’t want to cry in front of Grian who never seemed bothered by anything let alone something as trivial as this. “I believe you.”

Though he wasn’t entirely sure why he believed him. He wanted to think he could trust Grian but he wasn’t convinced. “I know you wouldn’t lie to me.”

“You know,” Grian sat beside him with a heavy sigh, “Maybe people don’t wanna be a part of the horn gang, you know?”

Jimmy sighed, his brother’s gentle tone encouraging, “I like being in gangs,” he whined, “I like clubs. I’m a club guy.”

He shook his head, wiping stupid tears off his face and standing abruptly, shaking his head with a tearful laugh.

“Alright, yeah,” Grian shrugged, “I mean, listen to this.” He blew the horn again, laughing to himself. It immediately ruined the resolve Jimmy had just formed.

“No!” he yelled over the cacophony of horns sounding in response, “No! It’s actually painful! It’s torture. I don’t like this!” He knew he was losing it. Knew he was making a scene and a fool of himself. Grian just laughed, clearly thinking Jimmy wasn’t distressed just because he was on his feet, or not caring either way. Jimmy ran a frustrated hand through his hair, taking a fistful and tugging hard enough to make his eyes water with pain. To get him to calm down. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and dragging his hands down to his face to subtly wipe away his tears.

“I can’t do this.” He muttered, grabbing his sword from where he’d abandoned it when he sat. “I’m getting a horn whether they-” he was cut off by a belated response from the horn club, “No I can’t!” he groaned, shoving his sword back into its sheath, “I’m going Grian! I’m getting a horn whether you like it or not. I’m joining the club!”

Grian waved him away with a grin, and a laugh.

“When I get it,” he yelled angrily, forcing his voice not to break, “I’m coming back!”

He left, at a fast walk until he was out of view of Grian and then started running, until he could no longer hear that stupid laugh that was following him.

He needed to be home. He just needed to get back to Tango. Void, he was such a mess.

It was just a stupid goat horn.

“Oh I have been travelling for far and wide to find this!”

What he assumed was Cleo’s base was much nicer than Scar’s. A small house on the edge of a cliff with a slanted roof and a wheat farm in the backyard. Like a pocket of suburbia on the edge of almost certain death. Very Cleo.

And behind the house, beyond the wheat farm and right up next to the world border, was a pile of bamboo.

Scar grinned, his heart and posture elated from where the long journey across the server had wearied him. The sight of the bamboo was the most amazing thing he’d ever laid eyes on right now.

“Hey Scar!” Cleo waved at him from the hill where she was ploughing the ground for a bigger farm. He returned the friendly wave but made straight for the bamboo. He wasn’t here to chat after all.

“Scar why-?” they frowned as he walked past them, gaping, presumably for the same reason as everyone else. Because of his shared features with his new soulmates.

Scar was barely listening, already grabbing shoots of bamboo and stuffing them into his empty pack. “Oh thank you!” he called over his shoulder to her.

He heard Cleo muttering conspiratorially, “Look at his head!” followed by Scott’s concerned and judgy, “oh that’s- uh…”

Then he heard footsteps behind him as he tied his pack and slung it over his shoulder. Then suddenly he was stumbling backward, hitting the hard not-quite-anything of the world border, Scott flinging him effortlessly by the collar tutting, “No, no.” like he was a disobedient child.

He pressed his back to the world border and scrabbling for his sword, realised he didn’t have it. Not that he could fight Scott. And Cleo, who had come up to stand beside him with their arms folded menacingly.

If it came to a fight, he’d probably die and take his soulmate with him. It wasn’t technically allowed to end in a fight but that didn’t give him any confidence that it wouldn’t. Maybe he could beat them up with his cane. Hopefully it didn't come to that. He was trying not to make enemies really.

“Give it back,” Cleo scoffed, rolling their eyes, “You have to barter.”

“No!” Scar protested, his voice whining a little more than he’d have liked when he was trying to be tough, “You guys stole it from the jellie pandas.”

The two exchanged a glance and Scott scoffed, rolling his eyes, “We didn’t steal it from the jellie pandas.”

While Cleo just screwed up her nose. He noticed Scott’s hand on his sword and his heart leapt.

He straightened and readjusted his collar, plastering on a charming smile, “I am an ambassador of the jellies and they say that you stole it from them,” he announced dramatically, gesturing to his fuzzy face, “So I am only an intermediate person going back and forth trying to save them. Because what are they going to eat? They’re gonna starve! Would you like to know you would be the murderers of jellies by starving them out? You wouldn’t want that on your conscience. Neither one of you would want that.”

He stopped talking and took a deep breath that hitched in his chest. He was earnestly scared of the two of them and he had a horrible tendency to jabber a lot when he was earnestly scared. Talking himself out of corners had gotten him this far.

The two of them stood there frowning at each other and then at him.

“What?” Cleo snapped with genuine confusion, “Pandas? Are you asking me if I would like pandas to die?”

She also had her hand resting on her sword now. Clearly his spiel hadn’t been enough to convince either of them it wasn’t worth killing him over the bamboo because he had every right to take it free of charge. Not that he’d really been expecting it too.

This was a slightly tighter corner than he could talk himself out of. Neither one of them cared about the jellies and both of them were fully ready to fight him. He might have to go with his second, slightly less effective strategy.

“See,” Scott shrugged, a dagger in his hand in the blink of an eye, “What if we just kill you as a messenger to get the message across. Cause I’m feeling very murderery right now.” He waved the dagger lazily as he talked, a nonchalant almost bored expression juxtaposing Cleo’s smirk. Both made Scar feel equally unsafe. His words were stuck in his throat, he was weaponless and he had what he’d come for. And he didn’t doubt that Scott wouldn’t hesitate to strike him dead. He’d already denied the games to change fate itself and team up with Cleo, what was breaking the rules for a little green on green violence.

No. He’d made up his mind. He wasn’t going to talk his way out of this unscathed so he’d have to go back to basics. Oldest trick in the book was sometimes the least remembered right?

He reached into his pocket for the one thing he had actually brought with him that might be helpful, he blew his goat horn into the night and the cacophony of response distracted his two captors for a moment, a split second. But that was all he needed.

He ducked under Scott’s raised arm that was trapping him in place against the world border and took off toward Cleo's, or was it Scott's? house. His footsteps and the thud of his cane sounded loudly in his ears alongside his panicked heartbeat. His whole body buzzed with adrenalin fuelled energy and his brain was short-circuiting as his eyes darted around the clearing looking for some way out. He couldn’t run around the house, he might well fall and he thought he’d be better off taking his chances in a fight than running away from two people chasing him for one whilst skirting across the edge of a cliff.

But he couldn’t well go around the other side without crossing back their path. Could he make it to the bridge? Probably. Did they have arrows? He couldn’t be sure.

But then he spotted a boat. Yes. Yes definitely.

He practically threw himself into it, paddling desperately with his hands until it teetered over the edge.

He was suddenly aware that neither Cleo nor Scott was actually chasing him or even yelling after him. As he glanced back, they were both just standing where the bamboo had been. Cleo’s arms folded and Scott’s on his hips with matching exasperated frowns.

Maybe he’d been overreacting. They both just seem confused and a little frustrated.

“Did he just steal my boat as well?” He heard Scott sigh as he tipped the last of the way over and he was sent falling and slipping, hitting every ledge and bump all the way down, the boat taking the brunt of it until the almighty splash and drenched, bone-deep shivering that signalled he’d made it to the river.

“Yes Scott,” he laughed, tossing his head back as he scrabbled for the oars, “Yes I did just steal your boat.”

He chuckled to himself as he rowed, wishing he’d brought the jumper he’d left with the jellies.

He felt somewhat bad. He probably should have just given them something in trade for the bamboo but he thought he’d already took it, he may as well take the boat too. And they’d threatened to murder him so he figured that made them even.

-

Scott and Cleo just watched in utter befuddlement as Scar tipped over the edge.

“Yes,” Cleo answered Scott, pursing their lips and then parting them with a laugh at his groan, “Yes he did.”

“I just want to live somewhere normal one of these days Cloe,” he shook his head and made his way back inside, ‘I guess I’m gonna go make a new boat.”

Impulse had never, to his fairly patchy memory, been happier. He’d been thinking that all day, over and over. Oh this is heaven. Oh this is just the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And Bdubs really was, the best thing that had ever happened. But Impulse knew him. And although it felt like a long time ago now (he honestly wasn’t even sure if it was), he still remembered all too well the feeling of Bdubs’ blade between his ribs. The blank stare in his eye as Impulse choked and coughed and screamed. The exact words he’d said before the whole ordeal had started.

Impulse. They gave me a clock so I have to do this.

He didn’t want to be on the receiving end of that. He didn’t want his soulmate to be so easily bought. But he knew he was. He knew to Bdubs, in this world, his clock was his lifeline. He wanted to make sure his soulmate knew that Impulse could be his lifeline.

“Okay,” he called to Bdubs wiping sweat off his brow. He was exhausted. From his mining trip, the subsequent smelting of everything he’d gathered. And the intricate crafting of the clock. “It’s time to make this official!” he told Bdubs as he ducked inside, frowning.

“Uhuh?” Bdubs frowned at him, clearly still not seeing the small golden object clasped in his palm.

Impulse held it out, utterly failing to get his hand to stop shaking. He wasn’t sure why he was nervous, his heart going a million miles an hour and stirring his hands into the same frantic rhythm. Bdubs already loved him. He was just sealing the deal. But Bdubs took it with a wide smile and a “Yesssss!!” more enthusiastic than Impulse had ever heard anyone say anything.

“We are together forever!” Impulse told him, looking him straight in the eye to make it very clear it was a promise, an oath. And his hands shook because despite the confidence in his words, he was so very afraid of it being broken. Or never sworn in the first place. “Never backstabbing one another,” he insisted and Bdubs met his eyes nodding enthusiastically whilst doing his best to keep a straight face and then throwing himself at Impulse until they were just a tangle of limbs.

“Ohhh, Impulse,” he muttered, pressing his face into his soulmates shoulder. Impulse just grinned, incapable of words at that point.

Eventually Bdubs withdrew, securing the clock onto his belt and taking Impulse’s hand, “You know what? I got a feeling we’re both gonna be green for a loooong time.”

Impulse laughed, beaming ear to ear so that it almost hurt. Void, he loved Bdubs too much. It couldn’t be healthy. It couldn’t be safe.

But it was. He’d given him a clock. Not betrayals now.

“Oh yeah.” He nodded, gesturing around with the hand that wasn’t gripped tightly enough to hurt in Bdubs’, “Ohhh yeah. Cos we’ve got strategy. We’ve got stuff that everyone wants.” And wasn’t that true. There’d been people all day trying to trade with them, they’d already been racking up IOU’s. “And,” he pulled his gaze back to Bdubs imploring eyes, “We watch each other’s back.”

Bdubs nodded seriously, “Right. Because you gave me the most valuable item of all. He held up the clock with a grin between it and Impulse.

Impulse just stared at him in utter wonderment. He didn’t care how cruel the world was to him from now on. It had given him Bdubs.

He shrugged, aiming for nonchalance while knowing the two of them were way past that. He flashed Bdubs a flirty grin, “Not bad for a first date, huh?”

Scar found Grian on his way back to the jellie pandas, a few sticks of bamboo tightly in his hand while the rest was weighing down his pack. Pearl was there too, with gold boots suggesting the rumours of her wild nether adventure with Martyn were true. She leant against a wall, swinging her goat horn in her hand.

“Hi Scar,” she called, waving over Grian’s shoulder but frowning at him with the same concerned expression everyone had worn upon seeing him since his soul binding to the jellies. “What’re you wearing?! What is that?”

Oh wait until she finds out this is my actual face.

Scar just sighed and leant against a tree. He really would like to sleep right about now. Maybe he could crash at Grian’s for the night. Did he have a house? Was he willing to let Scar into it for the night? He honestly wasn’t sure where they stood but he was guessing that would be overstepping and besides that, he wanted to be back with the jellies and he didn’t want them to starve.

“You got bamboo!!” Grian cheered, suggesting he cared a lot more than he’d let on in their previous interaction.

“Yeah, I got bamboo!” he pumped his fist with the bamboo in it into the air with a grin.

“Cleo and uh, Scott they- they thiefed it from the jellies.”

Grian took a hard right into disinterest, nodding and shrugging, turning away to glean more seeds from the grass. Was he making a farm? He’d been doing that all day, maybe that was just something he enjoyed doing.

Pearl shrugged and tucked her goat horn away, reaching instead for her water flask.

“Man Pearl,” Scar made his way over to her, putting a hand on her shoulder and motioning over to where the pillager outpost was like a shining torch through the night, lighting up the- what had Grian called it? Plateau of Death? “Look at the- look at the little brains who thought that was a good idea to build over the pillager-trader-hall or whatever it is the pillager hall.”

Grian rolled his eyes with an exasperated smile and Scar grinned at him. Pearl just squinted into the distance, “Oh they’re gonna die,” she said plainly, shaking her head.

“I know,” Scar laughed, wandering away to glance at the weird birch creation of Grian’s on the edge of the ravine, “Who would have thought that was a good idea?”

“Yeah, that sounds like a dumb idea doesn’t it Scar?” Grian called pointedly, turning away from his farm to glare at him.

“Oh wait,” Pearl gave him a disappointed frown, “That wasn’t you guys right?”

“No!” Scar laughed, shaking his head with a bemused grin, “My gosh.”

“That was all Scar,” Grian corrected exasperatedly and Scar thought that was a bit harsh. It had been Etho’s idea originally. He’d just been the- well, the number one spokesperson he supposed. It wasn’t like they hadn’t been on board with it. No-one was forcing any of them to be there.

“Scar!” Pearl exclaimed but she didn’t seem genuinely exasperated, grinning and laughing through her admonishment.

“When I find those people I’m gonna mock them,” Scar nodded with a fake seriousness, “Like crazy.”

His stomach grumbled and he was suddenly very aware of his distinct lack of food. He hadn’t expected his bamboo quest to take all day and well into the evening after all.

“G, you got any food?” he called out to Grian and his wheat farm because surely, surely.

“Scar…” Pearl groaned, shaking her head as she handed him melons. Because Grian was petulantly ignoring him. “You are so gonna die.”

Scar shrugged, gratefully taking the melons and Grian called, “Oh don’t remind me Pearl.”

Scar took a bite out of the melon and turned to see Martyn rushing up to their little group with a wave at Pearl who waved back while muttering with a laugh, “You two are gonna be out of the season nice and early, blimey, hope you’re prepared for that.”

Scar grinned, glad that Pearl was mocking Grian too. Most people so far had only been mocking him, with all Grian’s expertise in deflecting blame. Despite him having far worse injuries actually, somehow it was all Scar’s fault. So to hear Pearl bully both of them was actually a relief.

“uh, Grian and I are doing just fine,” he retorted as Martyn came over aggressively yelling about the horns. Grian cackled, shaking his head but he honestly couldn’t tell who had made him laugh because he went up to Martyn and put a casual arm on his shoulder.

“There’s a club,” he explained with a shrug, “If you blow the horn you gotta respond.”

“Are you building up a wall with the pokey things Grian?”

Something about Scar saying his name caught Grian off guard every single time. And ‘G’ was so much worse.

He turned to Scar with a raised eyebrow, wondering if this was Scar’s idea of inviting himself to live with him. That would certainly make things a lot easier but it was probably wishful thinking.

“Yeah, you like it?” He tried for causal, leaning against the wall and gesturing in what he hoped was a nonchalant fashion toward the ‘pokey things’.

“I do like it yeah,” Scar nodded with a tone of genuine admiration that sparked a hundred more contingencies in Grian’s mind, “That’s cool!”

Did he actually just like his build? Was that all this interaction was or was this him saying yeah I like it I wanna live in it? Probably not. Calm down.

You have to tell him at some point.

He rubbed the back of his head, humming and turning away from Scar with a shrug as he told himself to shut up. He would tell him at some point. He should tell him now. Yes. Come on. Do it. Do it now.

He turned around with careful posture to see he was putting up a front for a wheat farm and a few chickens in a hole. Scar, wherever he was, had gone already.

Wherever he was. Grian knew exactly where he was.

With those stupid pandas.

“By the way Pearl,” Martyn called from where he was leaning against a taller oak tree near the edge of the forest, staring down the ravine. Pearl sat on a fallen log near the edge of the forest, rather aggressively cuddling her dog and cooing at it. She stopped just for a minute to look up at him. “I managed to snag us a lifetime cows from Impulse and Bdubs.” He grinned and she returned it, excitement lighting up her eyes.

“Ohh, nice! Did you trade a blaze rod?”

“Yeah,” he laughed, “When these guys started grassing me up in chat saying that you can’t uh- make potions this season…”

Pearl mostly tuned out the rest of his explanation. She didn’t really care and she was too busy watching Grian and Scar chat, all flirty looks and grinning like idiots. She glanced back up at Martyn, shuffling things about in his pack and tapping his foot faster than should be possible against the dirt. How did he still have so much energy? They hadn’t slept for days.

She had to admit, she admired Martyn. Hell, given time and interest and circumstance, she might have a thing for him. But this was not the time nor the circumstance because they both had soulmates. And as fun as it had been to hang out with him all day, as fun as it would be to set up base with him, to get sorted out. She wanted a soulmate. She wanted what Grian and Scar had.

She turned around to see Scar nowhere to be seen and Grian throw his axe at his wall with a frustrated yell.

Okay, maybe not exactly what they had.

But something of the sort. Love. Soulbound love. It seemed so sweet, so natural.

“I need to find out who my soulbound is,” Martyn echoed Pearl’s thoughts as he slung his pack over his shoulder, his eyes still fixed on the ravine.

“I need to as well,” Peal sighed, standing, much to the dismay of her dog who pouted at her. She really needed to name her dog, didn’t she?

“Tell you what,” Martyn wandered over to her with his eyebrows raised in offering. Like outside the nether portal. Oh void. But instead he grinned and slung an arm around her shoulder, “Let’s set up a show, okay Pearl, I’m gonna help you out here.”

He unwrapped his arm from around her to dig in his pocket as he made forward through the forest. She followed, glancing back at Grian to see if she should say goodbye and finding he was gone.

“Let’s go up closer towards spawn,” Martyn called down to her as she hurried up the hill to keep up with his relentless enthusiasm, “We’re gonna set up our- let’s set up the game show lost and bound.”

“Lost and bound,” Pearl repeated with the nod, chewing on her cheek. She had to admit she was nervous about finding her soulmate. What if it was someone she didn’t like? Someone she’d wronged last season? “Oh my gosh, alright.”

It would be fine.

She was sure Martyn knew exactly what he was doing.

Scott actually laughed out loud when he saw the message. His communicator actually buzzed itself off the crafting table where he’d abandoned it and he rolled his eyes, looking up from where he’d been building himself a bed. He was getting really tired of sleeping on the floor and if he was going to survive, he was going to need to be well rested. He got up with a groan and went over to the communicator, figuring he should probably check it and have a break for some food.

Most of the time, chat was dull, barely touched. In as small and as competitive a world as this, any conversations not meant for everyone on the server to be involved in were had in person. So aside from the occasional update of people moving dimensions, it was mostly left alone. So, Scott got up and checked it when the buzz of Martyn’s message rung through his small house.

And as soon as he stopped laughing, he rolled his eyes and groaned, putting his head in his hands and taking a deep breath. This was either going to be hilarious or painful or possibly, probably, both. He grabbed his coat because outside of the walls of his house and the heat from his furnace, it was fricking freezing. It had to be winter in this world, surely?

He shrugged it on, grabbing a knife just in case on his way out and a bag of melon of course. He was surprised he hadn’t run out yet really.

He made his way across the bridge to where his unofficial soulmate’s house was too coming along nicely although they were outside in their wheat farm.

“Cleo!” he called as he stepped off the bridge and his heart stopped hammering. Despite having added rather haphazard railings, the thing was still too dangerous for his liking.

“Yea?” Cleo was sitting on a small hill above their wheat with their bottle of water in hand and hoe abandoned beside them. Scott made his way around the side of her house to her, pointing his communicator at her once she saw him, “Did you see Martyn’s message?”

“No?” she frowned, patting down her pockets for her communicator before getting up with a sigh, screwing the lid onto her bottle. Scott followed her into her house, reading frustratedly as he went.

“He said, ‘I need three non-established soulbound people to come to spawn. It’s time for a quiz on companionship’. I say we go, because they don’t know that we know that they’re our soulmates.”

Cleo looked up from their chest with a frown and then nodded slowly, tucking their things into their pockets, “Yeah. Sure! Let’s go.” Her tone was far too dead for the level of sarcastic enthusiasm that was somehow infused in her words. They straightened up and closed their chest, “Let’s go.”

Scott shrugged, readjusting his communicator in his hands and typing out a quick message while Cleo moved past him out the door, “Okay, Let me let them know we’re on our way,” he muttered, looking up to follow Cleo outside and shut the door behind him before pressing send and slipping the device back into his pocket and hurrying after her.

“And then we can just be like, ‘you’re bad soulmates. We don’t need you’.”

“Yep,” Cleo laughed as the two of them made their way into single file across the rickety bridge. Void, they needed to make it more structurally sound, “We don’t need you. We are strong independent soulmates.”

It really wasn’t fair of them to make Scott laugh while he was on the bridge.

“Yeah, we made our own soulmates,” he scoffed along with her bit as they made it to the other side. Though he wasn’t sure it was a bit at this point. They had made a decision to be with each other instead of their soulmates. They were just about to make it official.

Chat buzzed again and Scott sighed, lagging behind Cleo a bit who was making a valiant pace through the cold, to check what people were saying now.

Surprise, surprise, it was Martyn again.

“He’s saying we need two more, does he not realise that there’s only four of us that don’t have people?” Scott groaned, running a hand through his hair. This was going to be a lot harder than he’d originally thought.

Cleo stopped and turned around with a sigh, grabbing out their communicator and grumpily muttering, “I’ll just ‘on my way’.”

“Yep,” Scott agreed and after a moment the two set off again.

Scott wasn’t quite sure where spawn was, up a hill somewhere not near where they were. An annoying way to trek just to find their soulmates. Cleo said she knew where she was going. That was enough for him.

“Why does he want-” Cleo finally asked after a few minutes of silence, voicing all the concerns and questions and grudges that had been running through Scott’s mind, “Does he not know that everyone- no, of course! They’ve been- they’ve been doing-”

They didn’t finish their sentence just huffing and folding their arms and muttering curse words under her breath.

“He doesn’t cos they’ve been in the nether doing their own things,” Scott finished for her, elaborating on what he didn’t have the energy to when he’d first seen the message. How utterly oblivious their soulmates were was starting to weary them both. It would be better after this. Now that everyone was aware of the situation. “Because their selfish.” He added, just for good measure. If they were going to be mean about it anyway.

“Selfish!” Cleo agreed, looping one arm through his.

They caught sight of the other two in the distance and he squeezed her arm. She just sighed.

“Let’s get this over and done with.”

Chapter Text

“Okay little fellas!” Scar grabbed the bamboo from his pack, watching as the jellies watched him with a cautious interest. He emptied it all out onto the floor and then tossed the bag aside. It hit a tree and crumpled underneath it. After his traipse around the server, he was finally able to feed the jellies. And surely they’d be hungry, they hadn’t had any food in quite a few days now. Well it must’ve been. He wasn’t quite sure when Scott and Cleo had taken the bamboo.

“Scar!” Grian’s voice came from behind him.

“Hold on, hold on, hold on,” he called, holding out bamboo to the nearest jellie who tilted its head and frowned at him. “We’ve got big, big things happening right here.”

“Scar, it’s really unimportant. Scar, it’s nearly night.”

Which was exactly why he needed to feed the jellies now, before they had to hide from monsters overnight. But for some reason, they wouldn’t take the bamboo, even from the pile that was nowhere near him. And they’d been very friendly with him before.

“I’ve got something very important to show you,” Grian was still babbling on behind him, “I found a new trick, it’s really important, right. I just need you- I know you’ve done this before.”

Grian was getting annoyed. Scar still wasn’t paying him any attention. It at least gave him time right now to hang his rope over a low hanging branch of a nearby tree. He'd tied dripstone to the other end and was hoping to use it as a sort of pully system. Though high enough that Scar could stand comfortably under it and low enough that he could reach it was a difficult balance and he was having to climb up to the branch just to sling it over. He knew there were easier ways to do this but he was allowed to have his bit of fun. That and he wanted to drop a chunk of rock on Scar for being so oblivious. Was that so wrong?

But Scar, bless his stupid heart, was completely and utterly distracted by the pandas. Void, Grian was ready to set fire to them himself.

“SCAR!” he practically bellowed just trying to get the man’s attention.

And that, finally did captivate it. He frowned, confused as to why Grian was already yelling. He’d only asked him for a minute to do what he was doing. If it had been the other way round, he would have quietly waited for him to finish. Okay, he might have nagged, gone ahead and done it anyway. But he wouldn’t have yelled. He looked up with a serene, if slightly befuddled smile.

“They won’t eat Grian,” he tried to explain. Because this was important. Far more important than whatever trick Grian had to show him. That didn’t matter.

Grian already felt like crying. This was so exhausting. Could he really do a whole season of this?

“Come over here,” he groaned through a half-laugh that was mostly just a sob, “Stop messing with the pandas!”

“Aw okay.” Scar pouted, muttering, “But after-”

“Right. I’ve got something really important-” Grian cut him off, gesturing toward the branch of a tree near the edge of the jungle. He glanced over, finding enthusiasm beyond his reach. It was nearly night and Grian was insisting on wasting his time.

“I need you to stand right under this, okay?” he insisted, gesturing toward a chunk of dripstone he was hanging off the branch. Scar frowned back at the pandas who were still vehemently ignoring the bamboo.

“But could you explain why they won’t eat?” he asked as he made his way over, positioning himself where Grian had gestured and raising his eyebrows at him.

Grian’s brow actually hurt it was so furrowed, knotted was probably a more accurate descriptor. What in the world were Scar’s priorities. He didn’t know who his soulmate was. He didn’t care. He wasn’t even getting set up. All he cared about where the stupid fucking pandas.

“I-” Grian stuttered in utter befuddlement, “no- Scar!”

Scar sighed and rolled his eyes. He didn’t understand why Grian seemed quite so frustrated. He glanced up at the branch and was suddenly very aware of the rock pointed straight at his head, attached to a rope in Grian’s hand.

“Oh! Why am I doing this?” he cried, shuffling over so that the rock would hit his shoulder and not his head.

“Alright. Okay. Now look at me. Look directly at me.”

The stress and emphasis in Grian’s words were confusing Scar but if he cared so much, fine he’d do his stupid thing and then he’d drag Grian over to help with his stupid thing and get him to explain pandas to him. And if he didn’t know, he’d find someone who did.

“Okay! I’m looking directly at you.”

He didn’t mind that part of it. It wasn’t a bad sight after all. A panda nudged him and he laughed, glancing beside at it and realised they were all swarming to him. He still had the bamboo in his hand. But they wouldn’t eat it off the floor? Really?

“You looking?” Grian checked one too many times as he took a deep breath, readying himself for the conversation.

“Yeah,” Scar nodded confidently and Grian finally took his eyes off him.

He let the rope loosen between his fingers so that the rock plummeted into Scar's shoulder, leaving a shallow wound that shot pain through both their shoulders, searing and burning.

Scar noticed the jellie out of the corner of his eye and glanced at it with a giggle. He felt a searing pain through his shoulder and winced but it almost immediately turned into a chuckle as the jellie swiped for the bamboo in his hand.

“Look at em,” he cooed, grinning ear to ear.

Grian had been worried that getting Scar to stand under dripstone would clue him on. Clearly, he’d greatly overestimated the man’s abilities of observation. Lords above.

“Scar!” he yelled in frustration that was getting closer and closer to raw rage. Had he seen? Did he care? Why was he staring at the pandas again??

“Sorry,” Scar shook his head, still grinning as he turned back to Grian, “Okay I’m looking at you. I’m looking at you.”

Grian could practically feel the weight drop onto his shoulders. Void, really?

“You didn’t-! Scar…” he took a deep breath, steadying himself. He grabbed the end of the rope in his hand and wound it around his hand, “Okay, I can only do this one more. Ready?”

“Yeah,” Scar nodded, fixing his eyes on Grian’s left eye, the one that wasn’t behind the blindfold, staring into the dark void-like expanse of it. If Grian really wanted him looking at him, for whatever reason, he would. He wanted this over and done with.

“Look at me,” Grian insisted, clearly not believing him after the first time.

“I’m looking.”

He let the rope slip through his hands again, the rock slamming into Scar’s head and the pain of it like a second long splitting headache ringing in his ears. But he hardly felt the pain or the dripping of blood sticky in his hair. His head was spinning for a completely different reason. This wasn’t a trick. I have something really important to show you. Damn right. And one Scar had only one thought in the few awful seconds of tangible silence that stretched between them.

Grian.

Grian who looked so perfect under the desert sun with his stupid grin and his cackling laughs. Grian who he’d spent too many lifetimes loving, giving every last scrap of his heart away too. Grian who he would love until the end of time itself and back again. Grian who had always felt like his soulmate.

“Oh my gods.”

It was all he could get out. It was all he could manage through the overwhelming rush of emotions flooding him.

Grian who was laughing and shaking his head, before it turned into a sigh and a groan, “Have you got any food.”

Hadn’t this been what he was hoping for? Hadn’t this been his best-case scenario. The emotion he should be feeling was love, joy, thrilled excitement. Instead, anger and hurt and confusion were prevailing.

Because it was also Grian who’d been hanging out with him all day. Grian who’d marched over here with his trick knowing damn well how it would end. Grian that had known. And hadn’t told him?

“This whole time?” he asked, making no effort to hide the hurt in his voice.

“This whole time,” Grian shrugged with another laugh, patting down his pockets. Looking for food.

“This whole time?” Scar repeated, his anger getting a firm grip of him now. No. Grian didn’t get out of this without explaining. “We’ve been parading around the server and you knew this whole time?!”

He yelled, pacing back and forth and sticking his finger accusatorily in Grian’s face, glaring at him. The two of them held eye contact for a furious moment, Grian spluttering, “Well that’s-” and then scoffing, turning away and throwing his hands up, “Okay why do you think I’ve been so concerned for your health and safety?” He sounded genuinely incredulous, angry. Scar faltered a bit, taking a tentative step backward. Was it so wrong to think his friend would want to look after him, made sure he was okay? Did Grian only care about him because their lives were shared? Was that really where they were at? He knew things had been rocky in last life but really? They weren’t allowed to care? He shook his head, turning away so Grian wouldn’t see how that hurt him. He tried to keep his breath measured but his fingers were picking restlessly at the bamboo in his hands. His head was still throbbing and he was starting to feel dizzy and faint. He must be losing more blood than he thought.

“Okay well, we’re actually going to die here,” he grumbled, pressing his back against the tree and digging out his food. He hadn't eaten in a while and he thought it probably wasn't just the wound making him feel faint.

Grian was fuming, forcing his breathing to steady. He honestly wasn’t sure whether his tears were out of anger, frustration or honest misery. Either way, he gulped them back. Scar had no right to be angry. Did he? Surely not. Not when Grian had been with him all day and he hadn’t noticed. And that was his fault. It was. His. Sure, Grian hadn’t told him but that was just because well- he…

Because he had every right to be angry at Scar. He hadn't noticed. He'd tried to tell him so many times hadn't he?

“I can’t believe that you didn’t notice,” he snapped instead, returning Scar’s glare to his uncaring back, “I thought you were joking this whole time. That’s why I asked you the other day!”

Scar felt a sickened feeling in his stomach. Void. He remembered that. Was he really that oblivious? Maybe it wasn’t fair to be so mad at Grian. Maybe he really should have noticed. His head was in far too much pain to think clearly. He wanted to close his eyes but he feared he’d pass out. Was there really not a less violent way for Grian to show him they were paired. Though he supposed they were both supposed to just be a little bonk like the first one.

“oh you asked who- who my person was,” he laughed at the ridiculousness of it all, finishing off one piece of steak and digging for another as he sunk down to the grass and leanr his head back against the trunk, “And I was like ‘I don’t know but it got dicey’ or ‘it got crazy’ or something?”

The two of them descended into laughter and for a moment, it was almost like they were right back under the desert sun.

The sticky warmth of the jungle pressing down on them. Scar could almost imagine it. Imagine things could be the same again. And this time, things would end well. They certainly could end well and he’d be damned if he didn’t do everything in his power to make sure they did. His anger began to fade, replaced with all the things he thought he’d feel when he found his soulmate and so, so much more because out of everyone, it was Grian.

Fate had actually been on their side for once. It had brough them together.

Gian sat down beside him with the same heaviness, “I need food so badly Scar,” he groaned, “Please tell me you got food?”

Scar just closed his eyes, muttering, “I just ate both my pieces of steak and then gestured to his head with an apologetic, “Could you help me out with this?”

Grian sighed and scrabbled through his pack, retrieving a cloth and his water and pouring it carefully so the cloth was damp. He handed Scar the flask and he took it gratefully, taking tentative sips as Grian dabbed at his wound with the cloth, sending shoots of pain through his head. Shit. He wondered how Grian kept going when presumably, the same shooting pain was splitting his head in two.

Scar clutched the flask tightly, wincing and chewing on his cheek. But despite the pain, something about Grian’s instinctual comforting muttering was filling his heart with an odd nostalgic joy. Eventually the pain subsided a little and Grian sat back, shrugging, “It’s just a scratch really. Must have nicked you in a bad spot.”

Scar hummed, handing Grian his water back.

For a few moments there, everything was perfect. Then Grian packed his things away and stood, saying with a definitive sigh and a condescending frown, “Scar, I’ve been setting up a base for a while cos I knew you’d be-” he paused to glare pointedly at the pandas, “Not making a base.”

Scar made several incoherent noises of objection, sitting up straighter. He was more than a little offended by both the insinuation and the expectation that underpinned it. “No, I- I got a cave and I have some wheat.”

He self consciously rubbed the back of his head, glancing up at Grian with a proud grin.

Grian just rolled his eyes but he had to give his soulmate some credit, where it was due, for having some sort of set up. But it wasn’t exactly worth sticking around for.

“I’ve got sheep, chicken, wheat and I’m building a pretty sick wall.” He had something substantial. He had something that was built on strategy, a plan for the long term. Something more than just ooh pandas!

Scar was immediately conflicted. Because he really did want to live with Grian. To have…a partnership of sorts. Whatever he could get if he was perfectly honest with himself. But the also loved the jellies. What happened to not caring who his soulmate was. Was he really about to abandon all his plans, all the calm the jungle gave him just to blindly follow Grian.

“I saw the wall,” he started carefully, trying not to make a decision in his words. He wanted to leave his options open, “that was really nice but,” he sighed, glancing back at the jellies, “Do we need a base together?”

Grian felt his heart drop, his right hand fidgeting with his sleeve, “We don’t-” he paused, making no effort to disguise his hurt expression, “I mean, we don’t have to, but,” Scar just looked up at him with a matching hurt. Why didn’t he want to live with him? Was he seriously that obsessed with the pandas or was there something he was missing? Was he as unenthused about this as Grian? He wasn’t sure why that made his stomach curl. Made him angry, made him miserable, made him want to start crying. He didn’t want to be paired with Scar, so why did he care if Scar didn’t want to be paired with him. Surely mutual disagreement with their fate was the best case scenario.

“It might be nice,” he whined, all too aware of how pathetic he sounded. “If I can, look out for you.”

Scar looked up at him with an expression so soft it made him feel absolutely fine about his own demeanor.

Scar was surprised. He was confused. Above all else, he was hopeful. Grian did want to live with him. He did care. Perhaps just because he hadn’t told him...

He grinned, pulling himself to his feet and glancing at the jellies, a stupid plan already forming itself in his head. Grian felt the pain he felt right? He ran up to one of the jellies and hit it playfully on the shoulder. It immediately on instinct wacked him back, catching the wound on his head, its claws sending shooting pain through the dull ache of where it had been only moments before.

“Scar no!” he heard Grian yell rather belatedly, through gritted teeth against his own pain.

Scar staggered backwards, laughing deliriously through the pain. “Oh wow.” He clutched at a branch nearby that snapped and he collapsed into the undergrowth, stars crowding at his vision. “That actually packs a really big punch,” he mumbled as his vision slowly cleared and he saw Grian trudging over to him with a groan. He stumbled to his feet, reassured that the pain was already fading into the background a little. Grian grabbed his jacket and angrily dragged him along, away from the pandas, snapping, “You. You are coming with me.” He groaned, “This is gonna be…”

Scar staggered along after him, staring back at the jellies with a forlorn expression. He tried to shake out of Grian’s grip, grinding his heels into the mud. He wanted his choice; he wanted to stay here with the calm. He didn’t want to have to face the world.

“I-” he sighed as Grian finally gave up on dragging him, stopping in a huff, “I can’t leave them.”

He pulled his jacket back on from where it had been half dragged off in Grian’s attempt to drag him away and turned to his soulmate with a pouting plead.

Grian buried his head in his hands, mumbling, “I was about to say a short season. It’s going to be a very long season but maybe not…much, time.”

He grabbed Scar’s jacket again but this time, he made no effort to keep himself there, letting the world wash him over. He was vaguely aware of his staggering feet and Grian’s bitter muttering that should be making him feel like shit again, making him question everything his partner would never just tell him.

“Come on, I’m very proud of you for not dying but come on.”

Instead, it all felt oddly distant, his gaze fixed on the jellies and his mind equally tunnel visioned.

“Can we bring them with us?”

Grian was so done. He was so tired. He had stupidly gotten his hopes up when Scar had seemed serious for a moment there. He’d had a normal reaction to being soulbound. He had a base set up of sorts. He was even worried about the wound on his head. For a moment, he’d seemed like a legitimate, well meaning soulmate.

But of course, it had been wishful thinking. Because he was only obsessed with the stupid pandas. He didn’t care about where the games were headed. He was still caught up in oblivious optimism, thinking anything he cared about wouldn’t be used against him.

“Oh void,” Grian muttered, pausing and rubbing his eyes frustratedly. “no.” he let Scar go, who turned to him with a pleading look. He sighed, letting his defensive posture slip just a little. Scar did care about the pandas after all. He wanted his soulmate to be happy, didn’t he?

“Maybe,” he shook his head at Scar’s excited expression, “Another time.” He tugged on his sleeve but didn’t have to drag him this time. He dotted after him, his energetic skipping steps in stark contrast to Grian’s apathetic trudge. He glanced back down the hill at the pandas, still munching on the bamboo Scar had spent literally days running to find. And he changed his mind again.

“No.”

Scar pouted but said nothing and the two set off in awkward silence through the forest. Grian was glad to be away from the thick stifling heat of the jungle.

The chattering of insects and the rustle of unseen animals slinking through the undergrowth stretched between them. Grian was appreciating the quiet, giving him time to sort out his thoughts. He’d had far too many of them swirling around his brain all week now. Mostly conflicting opinions. A high regard for Scar and a nostalgic yearning for the good times, for what had been between them clashing with the startling memories hitting him in waves. Of prickly walls through blurred red vision. Of exactly how everything had ended. He wanted Scar. He just didn’t want to lose him. He couldn’t do that again. And of course, there was the yearn for something different, something new. Something simpler.

Something he couldn’t, wouldn’t ruin.

“You mean you knew this whole time,” Scar scoffed, again. He really couldn’t get over it. The two of them had been together for days. And he still couldn’t work out Grian’s opinion on their soulbound. He seemed exasperated, annoyed. But for a moment hadn’t he been sweet? Caring? Had Scar really just imagined that? If Grian didn’t want to be his soulmate, that would make sense why he hadn’t told him, but he wanted to live together? Didn’t he?

Void, he was so confused.

“And you were just…what- messing with me?”

Grian turned to him quickly, his eyes barely scraping over him before he turned away with an angry scoff, “It’s not my fault you didn’t notice.” He stopped, kicking at the dirt and picking up the collection of seeds he exposed on the ground.

“You could have told me!” Scar burst out as his soulmate stood, regarding him with an incomprehensible expression before snapping back to apathy, turning away with a shrug, shoving the seeds into his pocket. He continued off into the forest, leaving Scar confused and hurt and all alone.

He didn’t want to be alone again. That, was crystal clear in his mind.

Whatever Grian had to offer, even if it was just insults and apathy. He wanted it. He wanted whatever he could get.

A horn sounded through the forest, breaking the stifling silence asserting itself around the two of them. They stopped in unison, digging in pockets and packs for their horns to sound in response.

“By the way,” Scar laughed as he brought his away from his lips and set off after Grian, “Impulse…is furious with the horns and it is…so funny.”

It was a bit of a hit or miss so he beamed when Grian burst out laughing, shaking his head and grinning over his shoulder.

The tension between them eased just a little and Scar bounded up to walk next to him instead of doting after him like a lovesick puppy. He fidgeted with his hair, twirling and tugging at it carefully. His anxious energy needed some output now that he didn’t have the jellies to calm him. He had about a hundred questions for Grian but he didn’t know how to articulate any of them. He carefully thought through every word of what he needed to know.

“I still can’t get over it, you mean this whole time? Like, when did you find out?”

It sounded unnatural, it sounded rude. He couldn’t figure out how to make it not sound any of those things. Grian either didn’t think so or didn’t care, wrapped up in his own anxious energy, “Erm,” he ran a hand through his hair and plucked subconsciously at his feathers. Terrible habit, Scar thought protectively, “When I met you, in the- in the little uh the cavern, the canyon.”

Scar frowned, plucking a stick off a branch in his way and twisting it between his fingers. He’d never heard Grian stumbling over his words this much? Why was he so nervous?

“Yeah?” he asked, expectantly as Grian’s wall came into view through the trees, “With er, Joel and Etho?”

“Yeah?” Scar insisted, somewhat annoyed with the rambling now. He knew when now, disturbingly early, but Grian still sounded like he was making towards some bigger point.

They arrived at the little camp and dumped their packs on the ground. Grian immediately busied himself putting things away in his chest and Scar settled down on the one next to it, swinging his legs and watching Grian with an unwavering intensity. It was really unnerving Grian who was trying desperately to avoid his gaze, moving about nothing in particular on his crafting bench then tossing it back into the chests. He gently hit Scar’s leg to get him to shuffle out of the way. The comfortable familiarity of it sent a jolt through Scar’s heart and he quickly shifted onto the furnace, practically hyperventilating and cursing Grian for being able to make him feel like that. Could Grian feel his heartbeat shooting for the stars? He really didn’t understand how this whole soulbound thing worked enough.

“And I went- I screamed ‘NO’ at the top of my lungs?”

Scar furrowed his brow, chewing on his tongue, “Okayy…’ He didn’t understand, confusion wrapping itself around his mind. That somewhat answered his question of did Grian want to be his soulmate. But maybe, just maybe, he was misinterpreting, misunderstanding. He had to hope because if he wasn’t…

“And what was the no for?”

Grian froze. He had been meaning to tell Scar how he felt, he really had. But something about the confusion, the desperation in Scar’s voice. He couldn’t’ bear it. He suddenly felt awful. “Yeah, well- no.” he stuttered, his face burning red and hands shaking with his things. His mind was racing trying to think of how to get out of this one, “Just fell.”

Void, he wasn’t being convincing. Come on Grian, try harder.

“Just, yeah. Fell.” He shrugged, forcing his hands to still and his posture to slump, “Nothing to do with you.”

“Oh, okay.” Scar stared at him, eyebrows knitted together, watching his careful silence hesitantly. He knew he was probably lying. He thought he knew his tells well enough. But why would he be?

IF he didn’t want to be Scar’s soulmate, there really was no reason to lie. Or to drag him over to his house. He could just tell him that and they could both go their separate ways. Scar could go back to the jellies and everyone would be happy. So maybe he was just being paranoid and caught up in his own thoughts. He really didn’t know and it didn’t help that he really wanted to believe him. He wanted Grian back. He wanted what they had and as he remembered, he had been in considerable pain in the canyon and he hadn’t known why. Grian flashed him a smile and he almost grinned back, before reminding himself he was angry. He was supposed to be fuming, not giggling and kicking his feet at his soulmate that had been lying to him all day like a goddamn gool.

“Well alright,” he scoffed, sitting up straighter and watching as Grian climbed effortlessly up to the wall he was building, picking up supplies abandoned there and continuing construction like he’d never left.

“Well, you didn’t tell me!” he yelled up to him with all the anger and volume he could muster, “so you just made me gandleban,” he paused, faltering and frowning, “I don’t know if that’s a word…But I was gandlebanding around the server-!” he was cut off by a sharp pain in his legs and he yelped, half falling off the chest as Grian made his way past him, chucking his construction things near the chest as Scar hyperventilated, his stomach turning and the ache in his legs refusing to go away. “Dude I’m gonna die,” he gasped, grasping for Grian’s hand. He pulled it out of reach and grabbed a bag from his pocket, chucking it at Scar. “Do you mean galivanting?” he asked, raising an incredulous eyebrow.

The bag had a few idle pieces of bread. Like a compensation, or an apology. Or just to make sure he didn’t die and get them both killed.

He wasn’t sure.

“Yeah,” he sighed, munching on the bread. It was slightly stale but not all that bad. “Galivanting. And this whole time..." he tried to cling on to his anger but it was quickly fading. He never was good at holding a grudge. Maybe that was his problem. The problem with the two of them. Because Grian was infamously good at grudges. At anger. At making people feel guilty.

Scar, not so much.

“I’m…okay.” He sighed, leaning back and staring up at the sky, the sun making it slow journey through the clouds, disappearing behind one every so often and taking all the heat along with it. This world really was so cold. The whole situation felt a little distant to him right now. “Well that is rather hilarious but also terrifying.”

Grian regarded him with a curious look he couldn’t quite decipher.

Grian was confused. He wasn’t used to people being so open. So unfiltered. No-one in these games just said how they felt like that.

Scar smirked, eyes twinkling as he stared unflinchingly at him. Grian tried hard to keep his gaze but it was making his heartrate shoot for the roof and he couldn’t cope with all the thoughts spiraling through his brain. He settled for softening his scowl into a smile and passing his soulmate a hoe, nodding toward the wheat farm.

“Let’s get some food c’mon.”

Scar gave a quick grin and grabbed the hoe, making his way unquestioningly to the farm. Grian trailed a little less miserably after him to the wheat, “This is gonna be a lot easier now that you know.” He muttered and Scar gave him a ‘yeah no shit’ kind of expression that softened into a smile. He couldn’t help but return it.

The two of them thought the exact same thing as they chatted amiably while preparing the soil for their wheat farm.

Maybe this could be alright after all. Maybe the two of them could be happy together. Maybe, just maybe, this was fate pushing them back together.

Cleo and Scott arrived weary, but not from travelling. They gave enthusiastic hello’s through gritted teeth to Pearl and Martyn, who were bickering like siblings when they arrived in the little clearing Martyn had set aside.

He’d set up a collection of little interconnected huts. He was practically buzzing with excitement. The sight of Cleo and Scott had him hopping from foot to foot and Pearl muttering at him to calm down and something about the items he’d given her. Had he given them to her? He was sure he had. Oh whatever, the potential soulmates were here! Well… two of them.

“Oh look at you two,” Scott mocked in a tone that could probably be misread as teasing and celebratory rather than rife with barely contained anger.

“Oh I wonder where you’ve been,” his partner said in much the same tone.

He couldn’t help a grin at them. He really did have spectacular taste.

“Oh we’ve been nowhere special,” Martyn shrugged, trying horribly for nonchalance. It was easy enough because he didn’t really care about their comments about the nether adventure right now. He was ready to go. They just needed one more person. And then finally, he could do the thing he’d been planning all week.

“No. No really?” Cleo didn’t even care at this point who could tell they were being pissy and sarcastic. She had a point to make and she’d be damned if they left without making it.

“We’ve been,” Pearl shrugged from where she’d given up swiping at Martyn and leant against a tree. Probably for the best of this would all be over before Martyn could even get his game show off the ground. Would that really be the worst thing. “It’s been a little bit hot.”

“Right,” Martyn clapped his hands decisively, drawing everyone’s attention to his jittery anticipation, “We need one more person to turn up,” he tutted, grabbing out his communicator with a groan, “um.”

Scott and Cleo exchanged a look, both as equally exasperated the two idiots in front of them still hadn’t worked it out. And if they waited around any longer, they just might.

“You can’t do it with just us three?” Scott waved a hand in front of Martyn’s face to draw his attention away from the communicator and he stood up straighter, lowering it carefully with a frown, “Well, I guess we could actually.”

Cleo scoffed and rolled their eyes. They admired Scott’s patience in the way he carefully spoke. Without insinuations, his implications hardly noticeable and tone so innocent.

“Because I’m assuming you two aren’t together right?”

And he spoke like they were children. Just to get under their skin. Or amuse Cleo. Either outcome was worthwhile.

“No we’re not,” Martyn shook his head at the same time as Pearl.

“Yeah we’re not.”

Martyn was still frowning at his communicator, tapping his foot nervously, “So I guess we could-” he paused to glance around the clearing, evaluating, “We could test the compatibility of you three…okay!” he slid the device back into his pocket and clapped his hands again, “Let’s do it this way then.”

Martyn steered Pearl away and the two of them made down the hill, chatting away amiably. Cleo turned to Scott and the two made a series of angry silent gestures to each other, mouthing furiously. Then snickered laughs and turned, shaking their heads as they dutifully followed Martyn down the hill to his makeshift huts.

Despite their annoyance, Cleo was finding hard not to burst out laughing as Martyn positioned each of them in one of the makeshift huts, muttering about the directions they had to face and all sorts of pointless shit. It might have been entertaining, interesting and well, she supposed necessary if they didn’t know.

Still, they could have just punched each other.

“Alright!” He announced decisively once they were all positioned, “This is very off the cuff oh!” he tutted angrily as he was cut off by the loud sound of a goat horn splintering through the clearing. “I’m not gonna be able to do a game show if there’s horns going off every two minutes,” he threw his hands up angrily, “Come on now!”

“Can’t help it sorry,” Pearl snickered, revealing herself as the culprit of the horn blowing.

“Alright!” Martyn tried again, clapping his hands excitedly, “Have you got one of each item Pearl that we established?”

“Uh, I- I don’t actually, no.”

Cleo rolled their eyes, leaning against the wall they were fairly sure was facing the makeshift hut their partner was in, “Scott are you okay?”

She could hear him laughing breathlessly and knew that was generally a sign he was not doing well and trying to cope by masking his panic as giddy amusement.

“Yeah,” his scoff came from where they’d thought he was, “This is just seeming like a very,” he laughed incredulously and Cleo could practically feel his eyeroll, “interesting scenario.”

“This is-” Cleo scoffed, rolling her eyes as Martyn and Pearl muttered something, “This is…” They honestly didn’t even have the words to describe it. The whole thing was so stupid.

Scott wasn’t doing too well, fidgeting agitatedly with his trousers and trying to calm his panicking heart. He was the one who knew what was going here. He was in control.

“You two have been out of the game for quite a while right?” He scoffed, aiming for vaguely insinuating sarcasm, but his annoyance showing through just a little too much, “the entire time you’ve just been together?”

“They have,” Cleo shook their head before turning to Martyn as he came back to stand in front of them all, “You have no idea what’s been going on do you?”

“No,” Martyn frowned, glancing between them with concern creasing his face, “No, what’s happened?”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Scott shook his head, leaning back against the wall and grinning to himself.

“It’s fine, keep going,” Cleo laughed, genuinely amused at this point by the whole thing. They liked knowing what was going on when the others didn’t. It was sending her on a strange sort of power trip.

“Wait you two haven’t found your soulbounds have you?” Martyn sighed, just looking frustrated now.

“No,” Cleo insisted.

“Nooooo,” Scott’s sarcasm was palpable and had Cleo snickering.

“Ah right,” Martyn nodded, running a hand through his hair then raising a suspicious eyebrow at the two of them, “Are you sure? That was a really unconvincing no.”

“Yeah, no we haven’t found them yet,” Scott very much made up for his unconvincingness with what was actually a brilliantly told lie. Clearly, it depended on whether he was trying.

“If you two are soulbound to each other I’m gonna be fumin,” Martyn glared at them warningly but they both shook their heads.

“We’re not!” they said, practically in unison. Which really wasn’t helping their case.

“Cleo and I are definitely not soulbound to each other,” Scott insisted, making intense eye contact with Martyn.

Well, Cleo shrugged, it wasn’t a lie.

“Right,” Martyn frowned but shrugged, clapping decisively again, “So!” he threw his hands up theatrically, “Welcome ladies and gentlemen,” there were more horns and everyone snickered as Martyn angrily fumed at them again.

“That wasn’t me!” Pearl laughed. Scott was staring at a blade of grass, trying to block out the whole situation. He knew Cleo was good at being confrontational when they needed to, when they wanted to. Someone might say the same about him. He supposed he could do it. But he really didn’t like to. Especially not after last life.

Suddenly however there was a searing pain in his hip and he stumbled, almost falling over and cursing angrily as a goat trotted away, apparently deciding it was done attacking him.

“Ow,” he muttered, rubbing his hip before yelling at Martyn, “I’m being attacked on your game show!”

And while Martyn prattled off something about it being a complimentary part of the game show. Scott just heard Pearl’s groan.

Pearl felt kind of bad. Martyn had put a lot of effort into his game show after all. He’d been planning it all week and she was pretty sure there weren’t enough people left without a soulmate to try again.

“Oh gosh, I think I already know” she buried her head in her hands, shaking it as a stupid grin spread across her face, “I think I already know.”

But aside from that, she was thrilled. She was more than thrilled. Scott? Out of everyone? Oh absolutely. After last season, after everything they’d gone through together. Out of everyone on the server, Scott honestly might have been her first choice. And after everything she’d given him, well he owed her at least not dying.

“Really Pearl?” Scott laughed, a hint of annoyance in his tone. She couldn’t help the grin now. Oh wonderful. Just wonderful. She and Scott and possibly Cleo too? The two of them had been hanging out all day.

“Scott…” she called, but she honestly didn’t know what to say. What did she want him to know? That she was excited it was him. That she wanted to see it through just for Martyn’s sake. Martyn who, apparently, still hadn’t noticed.

“The premise behind this is very simple,” he was still going on, “This everybody is Lost and Bound!!”

They all cheered, apparently coming to the decision Pearl had made collectively. It really wasn’t Martyn’s fault they knew after all. Still, they laughed through the cheers and Pearl dragged her hands down her face, trying to stifle her giggles.

“Okay so using my very in-depth science, we’re gonna figure out who Pearl’s soulbound is.” he began in his game show host voice, completely oblivious, “I’m gonna ask you a question and you’re gonna have a stick, a coal or a log and when I count down from three, you’re gonna throw it out in front of you and then go and collect it a moment after.”

Though they, all three of them, wanted to let Martyn do his thing, they couldn’t help the contagious laughter that spread through them at how ridiculous the whole thing was when all of them already knew.

“Pearl’s not.” He was still going on too, even though they were all laughing through his every sentence, “I’m gonna give Pearl their stuff back each time.” He faltered, dropping his posture and glancing between the three of them with a befuddled frown, “What’s going on I- what’s going on?”

“Oh Martyn,” Scott laughed, shaking his head and sounding genuinely sorry for the man. He wasn’t. He just found it funny he was still so oblivious.

“We already know,” Pearl cackled out, “I already know Martyn.”

Cleo just giggled, shaking their head incredulously at the whole situation.

“What have I done?” Martyn threw his hands up exasperatedly, frowning at all of them expecting an answer.

“Nothing,” Scott waved a hand in a ‘don’t worry’ kind of gesture, “Nothing you’ve done.”

“Keep going!” Pearl insisted, taking deep breaths to get rid of the giggles, “You know it’s fine!”

“You do you!” Cleo mocked, grinning ear to ear. Oh this whole situation was fantastic.

“No,” Martyn shook his head, dropping all pretence and the items he’d bene waiting to use, “I’m not liking this.”

“You’ve done all this work,” Scott sighed, “It’s fine. Keeping going.”

And that was why Pearl appreciated him. And was glad they were soulmates. They were on the exact same wavelength of wanting to spare Martyn’s game show. He had worked on it after all.

“No,” Martyn sighed, rubbing his eyes, “What is it?”

Pearl just shook her head, giving up on trying to stop laughing, “This is so ridiculous.”

“Okay, Martyn, just watch,” Scott called to him, clambering up onto the chest in his little hut and jumping to pull himself up onto the wall, “Just stay where you are okay,” he wobbled a little precariously and made his way to the edge of the wall, “And just watch okay?”

He jumped, his knees buckling underneath him and Pearl swearing.

“Ah.”

“I think I prefer buff Scar,” Grian yawned, about halfway through the afternoon, laying down on his scaffolding, taking a break from wall construction as the sun began to set.

Scar was glad for his newly acquired fur hiding the blush he was sure was across his cheeks, turning away with an uncontrolled laugh, staring out over the cliff at the beaming, sinking sun sparkling across the water, the lights of Joel and Etho across the way springing to life, and beyond the fires burning bright at the pillager outpost. Joel and Etho’s farm and chests and their little encampment were silhouetted perfectly against the dark hill, the two of them could be seen sitting together under the stars with bowls of something, he wasn’t quite sure.

The world was so beautiful, he couldn’t help thinking, so new. He tried to banish thoughts of how it wouldn’t last, of how he’d thought that about monopoly mountain, magic mountain. Maybe he should stop living on mountains, they didn’t seem to be doing him any favours.

“I can make that happen,” he laughed, sitting back against the part of the wall Grian had him working on.

Grian laughed, hopping down effortlessly from his scaffolding and throwing Scar a sweet smile, a genuine one. Those smiles had always been uncommon from Grian but had become even rarer through last life than those months in the desert. Maybe they’d become more liberally awarded again now.

He hoped so. He was hoping for so many things at the moment. It was honestly tiring but he didn’t think he could ever stop hoping.

“What’re our plans for the night?” he called, glancing at the horizon in the distance beyond the world border. Grian froze, taking a deep breath and trying desperately for nonchalance. What a walking oxymoron he was. He shrugged and wandered over to Scar, dropping down beside him. And he had meant to say something, explain that he didn’t want the same thing they’d had in the desert, explain why, or even just make an excuse for his distantness. But then he was beside Scar. His warmth only just out of reach, his smell suffocating and surrounding him. His calm assurance utterly undermining Grian’s façade.

And before he knew it, he practically fell against him, his arm wrapped around one shoulder and his face buried in the other. Tears pricked at his eyes, unsaid things bubbled on his tongue and he bit his cheek to keep them in. It took all his attention so the tears fell wordlessly onto Scar’s shoulder. Could he fell the damp sting of Grian’s failure? Probably because he gently wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close. Grian crawled on instinct into his lap, letting his tears fall liberally, all entangled in Scar. He never felt safer than with Scar’s arms protecting him from all the outside world. Still, the press of fur against his skin was somewhat unsettling.

“I think I prefer buff Scar,” he murmured into his shirt as the sobs eased. His soulmate laughed, running a gentle hand across his wings in the same patterned rhythm that made Grian feel right back in the desert.

“I can make that happen,” he only half-joked, his voice a comforting lull.

Grian giggled stupidly, sitting up a little and wiping tears off his face.

“Don’t you worry.” Scar gave him a reassuring smile and Grian turned away quickly, his breathing spiraling out of control again. That stupid beautiful smile. And now it only just made him think of bloodied knuckles and quiet reassurances uttered from barely parted dying lips. Scar took his hand, running his thumb across the bandages wrapped around his hands. It made his skin crawl to a degree of almost physical pain and he stumbled to stand, pulling his hand out of Scar’s hold and folding his wings back into place, trying to steady himself. Void, get a grip.

“We’ll make a fire for the night. I know you love a flint and steel.”

Scar’s confusion and concern turned to a beaming grin and he sat up straighter, still not shifting that unwavering gaze of his, “Well you know I’ll never say no to a fire but,” he sighed, a genuine expression crossing his face. Grian forced a laugh, shrugging his shoulders before Scar could ask the question burning on his lips.

“Great,” he shook his head, aiming for affectionately exasperated as he made back towards his chests.

His interruption didn’t, unfortunately, stop Scar’s concern.

“Grian,” he began gently, “You okay?”

“I’m fine Scar,” he assured him before the other man could even finish his sentence. “It’s just been a big week is all.”

They held eye contact for a moment and Grian forced a smile. Scar nodded and clambered to his feet, muttering something about a fire and heading off into the forest. Grian put his back against the wall and took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes closed.

This wasn’t good. He couldn’t break down crying every time he sat down next to the guy. But he had a horrible feeling that he would. Maybe he would just have to keep his distance. Yes. That seemed like the best plan, in the long term. If he just stayed away from Scar as much as possible. If he just kept his distance. Physically and emotionally. He could cope with this. He could get through it. He could keep doing his shitty thing of running from everything he didn’t have the courage to face.

Well, that seemed like a hell of a plan.

“Ow,” Pearl cursed, poking her head sheepishly out from her hut. Now that the game was over. She could see Martyn’s disappointed expression and it made her heart fall. She honestly did feel bad; he’d been planning this all week.

Cleo giggled incessantly, shaking their head at the utter ridiculousness of the whole situation.

“And also,” Scott got to his feet and made his way over to Cleo, “Martyn,” he raised an eyebrow at Cleo and they nodded and he punched her arm hard enough for her soulmate to finally know what was up.

Martyn’s hand moved on instinct to his own arm and he rolled his eyes, turning in a huff to grab his things from where he’d abandoned them on the floor, “Aww, okay you know what?”

No, Scott thought bitterly, no he did not now get to act like they’d wronged him.

“It’s what happens when you two don’t come onto the surface or look for anyone!” he yelled, making no effort whatsoever to hide his anger right now. He was in control of this situation. It was okay to lose it a bit. “We meet ever other person who is soulbound!”

“Except you two!” Cleo finished for him as both of them and Pearl made out of the makeshift hut.

Pearl was grinning, down the bottom of the hill and Martyn stood at the top of it, frowning. Cleo and Scott stood shoulder to shoulder, glaring, mostly at Martyn who was still acting the victim.

“And we kind of put the dots together!” Scott continued with all his bottled-up anger, throwing his hands up carelessly.

Pearl laughed, tucking her hair behind her shoulder. Martyn joined in, incredulously. Cleo was still giggling at the whole situation.

And Scott noticed Pearl was still grinning. He realised they hadn’t actually shared the most important piece of information yet.

“So you know what?” he snapped at Pearl before taking Cleo’s hand. She quickly intertwined their fingers, standing up a little straighter. “Me and Cleo are actually soulbound to ourselves. We’ve decided.”

“Yeah, we’ve decided we’re together,” they shrugged, somewhat looking forward to the stunned reactions they just knew the two of them would have.

“Oh,” Pearl faltered, staring at the two of them, hands clasped and chins held high. She didn’t know what they meant? Were they choosing not to be soulbound to their soulmates? Or were they just teaming up? Were the four of them going to be some sort of team? She could do that. She’d been vibing with Martyn and Cleo and Scott had been there for her last season right. “Okay,” she muttered, a little unsure still.

“Right,” Martyn scoffed, grabbing his pack with an angry glare at the pair, “Fine. You know what?”

Scott honestly couldn’t believe that Martyn was angry. That he clearly thought they were being unreasonable. Cleo was fuming. Did he really think he had a right to be offended? After the sort of pain he’d been in? All day?

“We put ourselves out there all day!” Scott yelled.

Cleo was appreciating that he wasn’t holding back at all. It made them feel like they could be harsher, “All day!” they added with a pointed glare at Martyn.

“We were ready to meet people! We were vulnerable!” Scott began to rant, letting go of Cleo’s hand to gesture wildly, “And then you two were just off together in the nether doing your own things.

“Oh, well,” Pearl bit her lip, trying to think of something to say. An explanation, an excuse would do, “You know?” She knew what she should really say was an apology but- oh come on. It wasn’t like she’d tried to do anything wrong. Everything that had gone down with Martyn. It had just sort of…happened. She had been trying to find her soulmate. She really had. Hadn’t that been her goal all week? Well, okay most of the week. Some of the week. Only really a few days but still! She’d been trying more than Martyn anyway who didn’t seem to give a shit at all that time was of the essence. But neither of them had known that time was of the essence. Why was time of the essence anyway? What did it matter whether they found them today or three days ago? She was sure Martyn was asking the same questions. But self-righteous anger clearly came easier to him, standing there with his mouth agape and his brow furrowed, stuttering angry noises over Scott and Cleo’s rant.

“And we had to save your asses!” Cleo added, arms folded and scowling. They looked like a bitchy bodyguard, “Multiple times!”

And that, she supposed, was a slightly fairer point. Because she could see why that mattered. If they were having to eat, sleep, drink, generally keep up the health of the pair on their own. The way they were describing it, she’d be pissed too.

“You also kept burning!” Scott added in the same exasperated and pissed off tone.

The problem Pearl had was that it hadn’t been like that! At least not for her and Scot, she knew that much. She’d been eating, drinking, even sleeping where she could. Although, that hadn’t been much. She’d been surprised that she’d had so much energy really. Well, that solved that mystery.

But Scott had been in pain too, he’d been making her hurt almost as much as she had been. That might have been a slight exaggeration, but he wasn’t exactly a saint! So why was he so mad at her? Did he really have a right to act like she was the only one in the wrong here? Like she was committing horrible deeds against him.

“We were fine!” Martyn yelled, his articulation finally catching up with his raging self-righteous anger as he stomped down the hill, throwing his hands about, “We had pork chops! Don’t try to guilt trip us!”

Pearl thought she’d probably be okay to jump on board with yelling, or at least being defensive if Martyn was along for the ride. They really would have been great soulmates if the world would have been so kind.

“Hey!” she protested, folding her arms and matching Cleo’s defiant stance. “You’re the one that was-”

A sharp pain in her hip had her stumbling and she tripped, frustratedly yelping as the dirt flung up around her and a stinging pain shot through her face and elbows, a dull goat horn ache settling in her hip. She pulled herself up, brushing rocks and dirt off her elbows and wincing with grazing pain. She struggled to get up but was let down by a wrist that protested such things wildly. She glanced around for someone to help her up. But Cleo and Martyn were bickering, getting all up in each other’s faces, gesturing furiously. Scott just stood with his arms folded and his eyebrows raised, cockily. He kicked a bit of dirt a Pearl, laughing as she scowled at him.

“That’s what you get,” he scoffed as she gave up on help and got up on her own wrist as it burst with pain, “See, the goat agrees.”

Cleo slapped Martyn’s hand away and he slapped them across the face. They cursed, hitting him back a lot harder and he lunged for her. The two of them began to fistfight in an ugly uncoordinated fashion. Martyn threw taunts while Cleo just yelled pissedly at him to get a grip. Scott just watched in utter exasperation, making no effort to help his ‘soulmate’. Then again, Pearl wasn’t about to jump in and help Martyn and they’d been hanging out for a while. They weren’t claiming unofficial soulmate status thought.

“I was gonna say,” Pearl sighed, collecting her things and turning to Scott with a hesitant grin, “You’ve been hurting as well Scott.”

Cleo bent and grabbed her axe from her things, abandoned at the foot of a tree. “Oh you wanna go?” she effortlessly swung up the axe, glaring down Martyn who swung his own from his belt with a similar expertise yelling, “Yeah I wanna go!” in the same arrogant and furious tone.

Pearl vaguely thought that they could make one hell of a pair if they fought other people instead of each other.

Scott scoffed, fixing Pearl with an incredulous glare, the corners of his mouth lifting like he was fighting amusement.

Whatever. She’d get through the grudge. Scott couldn’t actually stay pissed at her. Not after last season. And certainly not over something as petty as this. Then again, what was Scott if not petty? She wasn’t sure honestly but she was fairly confident this was all just kind of a bit. He had that half joking ton when he said,

“Not nearly as much as you Pearl.”

She sighed, “I knowww,” Hanging her head with a coy smile. But when she looked up Scott rolled his eyes.

Cleo’s axe scraped across Martyn’s cheek and he swore, stepping back and clutching it angrily as Cleo rolled her eyes muttering, “Doesn’t hurt that much.”

But there did seem to be a lot of blood.

“This is a really toxic relationship,” Martyn snapped, but Cleo just shrugged him off, turning to Scott with a ‘help’ kind of look. The kind the three of them had always given each other when they wanted out of an annoying situation. It made Pearl feel horribly excluded. She knew it was petty and she really shouldn’t care. It just wasn’t directed at her right now. That didn’t mean necessarily that she was the situation. Martyn was the situation, right?

“You know what Scott?” she called to him, clearly not for his benefit because he was already packing his things, ‘Let’s just go,” They glared at Martyn, “Let’s just leave these two!” And then they glared at Pearl who felt like her insides had violently killed themselves.

These two.

That included her. This wasn’t a hilarious reunion. It wasn’t just a discovery and a bit. They were being serious. They were seriously angry. At her. They were leaving.

“Yeah,” Scott threw a matching glare, “We’re gonna leave.”

He caught Pearl’s eye, her confused, angry and hurt expression silently asking what the fuck all the laughing was about before.

“We thought we’d humour you,” he continued with a shrug, turning his gaze to meet Martyn’s anger. It was easier to face than the betrayal in Pearl’s gaze. He was trying so desperately to do what he’d said he would. He had every right to be angry. Didn’t he? Well, Pearl had been in pain and not finding him and he was trying to be angry. But Pearl’s stupid imploring teary eyes weren’t making that easy.

“But Pearl clocked on very quick when I got hit by a goat,” he explained to Martyn because he still wasn’t quite sure he was understanding.

Martyn just scoffed frustratedly, throwing his hands up and turning away.

“Okay,” Pearl muttered, biting her tongue and staring at the ground, “are not,” she mumbled, glancing up at the two people she would’ve called her best friends in the world this morning. She was fully aware she was giving them puppy dog eyes and making no effort to stop it, even going as far as to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, comically disappointed, “Are we not gonna, gaslight…gatekeep…girlboss?”

Cleo glanced at Scott who folded his arms, doubling down on his defensive stance. “Ah no Pearl,” he snapped, “You abandoned us.”

“I didn’t abandon!” Pearl whined, making up the hill to be level with Martyn as tears pricked at her eyes. She was getting upset and flustered, “I was just following Martyn!” She gestured wildly at him and he just raised his eyebrows, seeming remarkably unbothered by the whole ordeal. It made Pearl feel less bad about throwing him under the bus. “Martyn’s like you wanna go to the nether? You know? I’m like fine. Okay. I’ll do it, sure.”

Martyn shrugged, “It was somewhat unreluctant on her part.”

He wasn’t about to let her blame this all on him. Not that Scott and Cleo were either.

“You knew your soulmate was out there!” Cleo pointed a furious finger down the hill at Pearl. How had it become her fault? She’d literally just explained that it wasn’t. What the void was going on anyway?

“I was looking!” she cried, frustratedly chucking Martyn’s items to the ground.

“You knew it wasn’t him!” Scott yelled, matching her energy as ever, “And you were cheating!”

“I was trying to provide for my soulbound,” Martyn defended, clutching his chest theatrically and turning to Pearl with a pointed look she didn’t understand.

What did he have to defend? It didn’t seem like anyone was blaming him, though it was more his fault than hers. Besides that, he wasn’t attached to Cleo other than being, well, attached. This wasn’t the betrayal for him that it was for her.

“Well,” Scott shrugged, uncaringly. He sounded decisive. Like that was that and whatever this had been was over now. “This is the definition of welcome home cheaters.”

Cheaters. Pearl’s heart dropped. How were you supposed to cheat on someone when you didn’t even know you were dating them. Besides its not like her and Scott would have ever had…that. Right? She didn’t want that. She was sure he didn’t. Whatever they had, well it was intense, she loved him. But it wasn’t romance. It wasn’t cheating on him. Or was that changed by them being soulmates? Or was he just joking or exaggerating and she was making a big deal where there wasn't one. Oh whatever. She didn't, she didn't care. He was leaving. They both were.

“Wow,” she mumbled, picking at the sleeves of her hoodie, keeping her eyes fixed on the dirt, “Okay.”

Cleo looped one arm around Scott’s. “We’ll see you,” they said sweetly with a savage smile at Pearl, “We’re going to our homes that we’ve already made.”

“We already have homes together, so,” Scott hoisted his pack onto both shoulders and gave a tight-lipped smile, “We’ll see you later.”

“Byeee,” Cleo called cheerfully as the two of them turned away, wandering off into he woods. Leaving Pearl and Martyn standing there absolutely befuddled. A round of horns went off in a triumphant cacophony that really didn’t fit the mood. Pearl didn’t even reach for hers, still standing there watching Scott and Cleo disappear into the forest.

“Those horns!” Martyn expressed his pain differently to Pearl’s teary silence, she supposed. “Would they shut up!”

He was so loud, Scott, actually a decent way into the forest now, turned around and yelled back, “You know what, I’ll add to it,” in a gleefully vengeful tone that made Pearl’s wish to start crying worse. He blew his horn and screamed, ‘Just cos you love it so much!!”

And then Martyn screamed, “I hate you! Bye!” and Cleo screamed, “I hate you too!!” back and Pearl took a few staggering steps until her back was pressed up against a tree and took deep breaths, trying to steady the sob building in her chest. Trying to block out the world, the hate everyone was screaming out. The sound of rustling undergrowth as Scott and Cleo left and Martyn, for once in his life, stood perfectly still.

Then he trudged back into the clearing and started packing his things in a huff, “Why have I got the worst soulbound?” he mumbled which Pearl thought was a little harsh but she was in no mood to start fighting with Martyn too. She stood there against the tree, staring into the distance, trying not to think, or start crying.

“I feel like I’ve just been broken up with.”

Martyn laughed and then it trailed off and he just frowned, glancing at Pearl who seemed deep in a trance, “Yeah I dunno what’s going on there.”

Pearl swallowed down her tears. Martyn seemed unaffected. She wasn’t going to cry in front of him. She’d be angry, like he was. Yeah. She had plenty of anger. Right?

“Everyone else!” Is together with their soulmates and our two are just- like- thinking we abandoned them or something.”

They really hadn’t been ditching their soulmates. They’d been talking about how excited they were to find them almost the whole time in the nether. Was it really such a crime to do other things first? It wasn’t like her and Martyn had been…no. So why were they angry? She really didn’t get it.

“How do they even know?” Martyn threw up his hands exasperatedly, “I don’t understand! Did they just-“ he faltered, glancing at Pearl, “Wait how did you know actually.”

“They just clocked on,” Pearl groaned, slumping down to sit in the undergrowth, “Everybody else is soulbound, they’ve been exploring and we were the only tow they hadn’t met up with so they- they put it together.”

The tears were coming back. Oh void what the hell was she crying for? If Scott wanted to be an asshole, whatever. Whatever. Hadn’t she been wishing all week she could just pair up with Martyn? This might not be the outcome she’d expected but it wasn’t a bad one right? She didn’t have any reason to be crying, right?

“Riiiiight,” Martyn groaned, then tutted angrily, running a hand through his golden helmet hair, ‘What’re the chances. Come on, man.”

“Well then,” Pearl sighed, trying to sound accepting and unbothered as a single tear rolled a lonely path down her cheek, ‘Okay, ah well.” It might have worked if she wasn’t literally crying, talking through sniffles and badly disguised sobs, “I feel like- I feel like…” she let out a sob she couldn’t control and clasped a hand to her mouth. Martyn gave her a ‘you good?’ kind of look and she laughed miserably, “My heart’s kinda broken, I’m not gonna lie, you know?”

“Yeah,” Martyn shrugged, turning away to shove things into his bag, “It’s a little bit demoralizing honestly,” he grabbed an axe and began haphazardly dismantling the makeshift huts as he ranted, "Tell you what, they’re gonna come crawling back to us. In a moment of need when they’re saturation’s low and they’ve got no food and who do they want to eat? Us. And you know what we’re gonna say sorry, we’ve had everything from the buffet-” he stopped to yelp as his legs buckled, “Now they’re hurting one another to hurt us!” he yelled, and though Pearl thought it looked more like a nasty fall, it was reassuring to see that underneath all his oping, Martyn was just as distraught as she was, “Isn’t the pain already enough!” He screamed before grabbing his hair angrily and taking a deep breath, squeezing his eyes closed.

He tried to steady his racing heart and similar pace of his thoughts.

He’d wanted a soulmate, was the thing. He’d wanted someone to call his, someone to defend, to rely on, to trust until the end. Someone to give his life to. Someone, if he was being perfectly honest with himself, who could replace the Ren sized hole in his life. He’d been hoping Mumbo would fill it, but instead, he’d been left with another, if admittedly smaller hole to add to the collection. And no soulmate. Because his thinking had been, Mumbo couldn’t fill that void but maybe someone else could. He wasn’t even upset now because his soulmate had left, not really. He was upset because Cleo could never be that person anyway. She didn’t need his protection and she wouldn’t trust his loyalty. And honestly, he wasn’t sure he liked them that much anyway. He didn’t really know them. So the idea that his fated partner was some essentially random person he didn’t know how to care for, who’d left him anyway…

Nah. Fuck that. Fuck fate. Besides that, what the fuck was with the weird vibes between Cleo, Scott and Pearl. He knew that they had something going on last season but he didn’t know exactly what. Was it romantic? Was it hateful? He wasn’t sure but he was confident he was third wheeling it either way. He felt like he’d stumbled into something that had nothing to do with him but was gonna affect him a lot and he wasn’t particularly happy about it.

“Yeah,” Pearl sighed, smiling sadly as he dog clambered into her lap and patting him half-heartedly, “I’m actually heartbroken, no- gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss reunion and then- then-”

“You know you guys have got this whole weird vibe going on,” Martyn interrupted her and she thought that was a bit of an understatement.

“I’m an innocent party in all this.”

Pearl scoffed a laugh, staring at Martyn who was standing with his hands held up as if in surrender while he rewrote the story so that he didn’t have to. Innocent party. He’d been the fucking instigator.

And his gaze fell on Pearl, sitting there with her stupid dog like she hadn’t a care in the world, all weepy, playing the victim.

Martyn’s gaze hardened and Pearl frowned up at him as he took a step back, glaring at her.

“Martyn?”

“I blame you for this.”

“What?”

He took several step backward, eyes still fixed on her and then grabbed his pack and slung it over his shoulder, walking to the edge of the clearing as Pearl just stared after him, mouth agape and eyes full of hurt. But this, her weird polycule, whatever she had going on, was the reason his soulmate left him. He’d rather be alone than more involved.

“I’m breaking up with you too,” he called, shaking his head and walking, practically running off into the forest.

“Martyn?”

“Goodbye!” he yelled over his shoulder with an angry bitter twist in his tone.

“Martyn!”

“Good. Bye.”

Pearl sat there in the clearing, completely alone. Her dog stilled in her lap, glancing up at her and whining. She just sat there for several moments, unable to form words or even sobs, tears just making a goddamn waterfall down her cheeks while she sat there completely distant from the whole ordeal.

Then Martyn’s voice broke through her shell of unawareness calling back, “Nether again,” and the following laugh trailing out of ear shot.

And it all came crashing back to her. Her heart hammered in her chest and sobs caught in her throat. For several moments, even as the sun set around her, all she could do was cry in big heaving sobs. The people who meant the most to her in the world, Scott and Cleo, her forever friends. The people who had been her entire life for so long last season. Her anchors in these stupid fucking games. The only thing she could rely on. And they were gone. They’d left. Over what? Over nothing at all. A petty stupid thing that had her wondering if they ever cared in the first place. And even the person she’d been hanging out with all week, her new friend in this world, even he had blamed her. Had left her. Everyone seemed to think that this was all her fault and she didn’t even know what was going on. She hadn’t been trying to hurt anyone. She hadn’t known what she was doing was wrong. That she’d lose everything over it. She just wanted to have fun, to have adventures and go places while the world was still young and fresh and beautiful. What was the use being green if everyone hated her anyway? Maybe she should just let the red mania take her early. Lose a couple lives straight off the bat. It wasn’t like she had anything to lose in this world anymore. And void, she could go reeking a bit of havoc right now. It was a disturbingly dark thought and the tiny part of her that cared how disturbing a thought it was, was screaming that it was even more disturbing how small it was. How much of her brain didn’t care that it was just a stupid overwhelming in the moment kind of a thought. It made her heart race and the fear of death crash into her like some torrential wave of some vial substance. She suddenly wanted out of her skin, out of her head. Her hands started scrambling with her trousers as tears continued to berate her cheeks with their downpour. She tried to take deep breaths while her entire body shook and found herself instead just pulling her knees up to her chest and her hood over her head, burying her face in her lap and rocking gently back and forth. Clenching her teeth and squeezing her eyes tight like she might block out the world, block out her thoughts.

Then suddenly, something hot and rough and wet was against her cheek and she yelped, scrambling backwards until she saw her dog, standing beside her with its mouth open in what looked like a smile, its tongue, all too big for its mouth with its weird puppy proportions, lolling out. She giggled, leaning forward to pet it and smiling as it clambered into her lap again.

“Hey buddy,” she mumbled, tickling under his chin. He barked appreciatively and she held him closer, letting her tears fall into his coat.

And for a moment everything wasn’t so bad. None of what had just happened weighed on her mind if she just focused on her dog. She wasn’t all alone in the world. She didn’t have nothing, no-one. She had her dog. At least she had her dog.

Her dog wouldn’t leave her.

Right?

Chapter Text

The next week bore on rather uneventfully, monotony lulling the world into a certain familiarity. Soulbound couples settled into each other’s company and houses began to pop up everywhere, scaffolding covering half the sever and little pockets of light where people had set up camp giving the whole world slightly less of a wilderness vibe. It quickly became clear that this world was much colder than the last life server had been before it and it didn’t take long for everyone to be wearing coats, jumpers and cloaks. Evenings were spent huddled around a fire with scrounged food before quickly retreating to wherever in their camp they could huddle under blankets. People mostly kept to themselves. They didn’t really have the food security for a while to do anything other than farm or hunt and everyone desperately needed shelter and supplies. Most people were living happily with their soulmates, fate having favoured them with new, unruined relationships.

With a few, notable exceptions.

Martyn had spent the week in a cave in the forest, sleeping tucked into a tree only when he absolutely needed to and spending most of his days and nights, labouring away in the mines, determined to beat everyone else on resources. He was having atrocious luck and he kept almost dying because he really wasn’t sleeping enough and his coordination was gradually getting worse and worse until he actually managed to drop his iron sword down a crevice where he definitely couldn’t recover it without digging out half the mountain and probably burying it. At that point, he went to the surface and turned his coat into a makeshift tent and slept all night and for the better part of the next day. It was begrudging rest, but in the morning, or mid-afternoon really, he was grateful he'd finally given in. He felt much better for it and waking to the sounds of the day and the sun on his face he rather resentfully accepted that he should probably just leave his no luck stupid cave behind and go find somewhere to live. He’d been hoping, foolishly hoping that if he could just get enough resources he could go up to Cleo like ‘look at what I bring to the table, you’d be lucky to have me’ and they’d take him back with a grin and a classy one liner.

Probably, he realised now, wishful sleep deprived thinking.

His face and hands and all his clothes were absolutely covered in coal and just generic cave dust that clung to him horribly. He found a little waterhole nearby and stopped there, dumping his pack and taking off his dirty clothes. He was absolutely shivering up a storm in the water in just his undershirt and his boxers but he needed to be clean. He found the only change of clothes in his bag was an orange jumpsuit that looked vaguely like ocelot fur. It was truly the oddest piece of clothing he’d ever laid eyes on but at this point, it seemed on brand for the week.

And he couldn’t well put on his mucky clothes so he shrugged and pulled it on, reassured by how warm it was.

He made off from the waterhole, off into the wilderness hoping to find, and preferably re-join civilisation.

Pearl had been avoiding everyone. She wasn’t sure she wanted to show her face. She wasn’t sure how to approach Scott after what happened and for the past week, she’d been in too much of a bubble of anger and crying and just- well she’d just wanted to be alone. With her dog, who she’d named Tilly.

It was only that day she’d started building her tower. She’d gotten sick of the little hobbit hole she’d been cooped up in, the little farm that wouldn’t have sustained her without the dead animals Tilly dragged back there. Her little puppy was getting bigger so fast. She’d be fully grown up soon, she swore.

It had been a bubble of much needed isolation. Just her and Tilly and nothing else in the world. No soulmate. No Scott. Because as much as everyone else had left her, she still had her sweet dog Tilly to be by her side and honestly, she was happy. At least that was what she told herself. She loved Tilly. Tilly wasn’t gonna abandon her.

Her hoodie had caught on a tree right at the start of the week and ripped along the middle, she'd torn it off in frustration and it was practically in half. Tilly had started using it as a chew toy as soon as she'd taken it off and she couldn't bring herself to take it off her. Now the cold racked her bones but she hardly even cared. Part of her was just finding it funny that Scott would be feeling the horrid creep of cold across his skin when he was probably curled up near a fire with Cleo.

Void, she was so angry at the two of them.

But eventually, she'd grown tired of the horrible sensation, she'd wanted something to curl up under at night. She was torturing herself as much as Scott and she knew it wasn't healthy. She'd set to making herself a nice thick cloak. This world was cold after all, and she had a horrible feeling it wasn't even winter yet. The days were still far too long. And she'd dyed it red, mostly as a statement piece. Just to walk around dressed like she was already on her red life. It would make the green glow of her soulbound seem even more fake than it already was. She'd tried to chop it off a few times but it just turned into light and then became tangible again. She could touch it, but she couldn't sever it.

And now she’d decided that she wanted to go out and see people just a little bit more, get back into the world. It had started with her plan to build a tower in the sky. Because then she could, quite literally, see people. She wanted to not hide away in her hobbit hole anymore. She wanted to be out there. To see the world for miles around.

So for the past few days, she'd been building an incredibly precarious tower in the sky, on four wobbling stilts that probably wouldn’t hold in too much of a wind and one slightly sturdier pillar she intended to put a ladder up. The house itself was quite nice, cosy and charming and quaint. Unfortunately, it was several more metres in the air than could be considered charming, quaint, or admittedly, safe.

Beginning gathering materials for her house, it gave her more time to think through everything. To reflect. Mostly, in her bubble in her hobbit hole she’d just been crying and getting angry and depressed, sinking into herself and the hopelessness of being alone.

But now she was thinking. Thinking through everything that had happened last week. What it meant. For her, for Scott, for their little trio that apparently had become a duo.

Did she forgive Scott for what happened last week or was he forgiving her? She couldn’t really tell.

What she did know was that she was hurting. A lot. At one point Scott had put her in such pain she had to back into a mountain to avoid stumbling over and stay there for several moments while the stars cleared out of her vision and the searing pain across her chest stopped. Scott! What was he doing?

And last week, he’d been picking on her for worsening his health. But he’d already almost killed her straight away right there and that was…that was a panic.

She didn’t know how it felt to be killed by your soulmates death but that had felt pretty close.

And you know what? Scott had a bit of beef with her last session. He broke up with his soulbound because she went to the nether and was in pain. But she was good the whole time! She had pork chops, she was healing. She was even apologising for hurting him. She didn’t feel so bad anymore. She decided she wasn’t even going to be as careful anymore. It was okay, she didn’t have to be careful. She was gonna do her and Scott could do…Scott could do whatever Scott wanted to do.

This is me now, she thought bitterly, somewhat hoping their soulbound meant Scott could hear all her angry thoughts, You’ve done this Scott. This is what happens when you don’t wanna be on the side of me.

She’d looked after him last season and he damn well knew she could do it this season but he didn’t trust in her. And now…this was the state they were in.

Well. That was his problem.

She had a house to build!

She sung quietly into the night as she built possibly the most rickety pillar ever witnessed, up far too far into the sky. “I’m all alone. Nobody here, beside me. My problems have all gone. And up and up and up and up we go.”

She got to work on a little platform as the night began to fall around her, pretty consistently being in excruciating pain from Scott and cursing him furiously under her breath. She glanced up as Tilly tripped on the edge and her eyes widened, her heartrate spiralling as she made forward to grab her to make sure she was okay. But she didn’t trip, clambering onto the platform and sitting with a whine, glancing down at the ground.

“Tilly,” she sighed, kneeling to pet her, “What’re you doing? You gave me a heart attack for a second there. Please don’t do that I don’t wanna lose you.”

It had taken Scar all day to trek the jellies all the way across from the jungle to the edge of the ravine where he was living with Grian. He wouldn’t say that they were living together per say. That implied a level of mutuality that wasn’t exactly there between them. Grian made it very clear that this was his house. Or, well, his camp inside a wall. His spiky fort. And Scar was just living there.

Whatever, he’d break down his walls, metaphorically, or quite literally if he had to. And honestly, if it had to be just Scar living with Grian, he’d take that. He really would. Because in the evening, when Grian ran out of things to busy himself with, to ignore Scar (He was pretty sure that was what he was doing anyway) he was amazing.

They fell back into their old rhythm of joking and laughing and throwing taunts. It felt natural, familiar, nostalgic almost. The two of them against the world, plotting and planning for the end. The first night they'd spent together, Scar felt like some gods somewhere had taken pity on him and blessed him with his best friend in the world back in his life. Grian had rather grumpily been arranging blankets and Scar had been loitering by the chests, confused as to what their arrangements were going to be and too afraid to ask with Grian in a mood as he was.

"Well," he'd snapped at him with an expectant glare that fairly quickly softened into a smirk, "Are you gonna sleep outside?"

He'd frowned, trying and failing to understand what he meant and settling for a vacant, "What?"

To which Grian had just laughed, shaking his head and called, "C'mere."

Scar had made his way over and Grian had practically pulled him down into the mess of blankets, immediately snuggling into him. Scar couldn't help the grin as he wrapped his arms around him, instinctively moving to accommodate for Grian's presence against him.

"I thought you didn't want me," he'd whispered carefully as the night settled around them.

"I didn't say that," his soulmate had snapped combatively only succeeding in making Scar roll his eyes.

"You did just about everything but say it."

"I was just frustrated is all!"

And after a moment of angry, confused silence between them, Grian had spoken again, a lot softer and a lot kinder, "I do still love you Scar."

Barely a whisper, barely an acknowledgement. Definitely not an explanation and certainly not talking about everything that had happened in the past week and so long before that. But something. Definitely something.

Scar had pressed a kiss into his hair, relaxing a little and feeling Grian in his arms do the same.

"I know. I'm sorry."

Though for what, he wasn't quite sure.

But since then, in the past week, it was like there'd been a certain...apprehension on Grian's part. Scar honestly wasn't sure if it had anything to do with him or if it was just something that had changed about Grian. But he was jumpy, constantly getting scared by Scar and refusing to look him in the eye more often than not. Scar had stopped initiating affection between them after the first few days because Grian jumped every time he touched him. A hand on his hand had him pulling it away. A head on his shoulder and he was scrambling to put distance between them. He didn't know how to ask about it without sounding accusatory or accidentally guilt-tripping him and he wanted to respect his space, so he just said nothing and stopped touching him unless he started it. Which was probably just a boundary but felt like another way his soulmate had control over the relationship, over him. And anytime they got to laughing, fell into their habits, it was like Grian actively tried to avoid doing so. Like he snapped himself out of it. He didn't know what was going on with him, with the two of them. But something was definitely different. It wasn't the same as it had been in the desert. He supposed it couldn't be, after how things had ended, but he had hoped however it would change, it would be better than this.

But things were still good. Things were still fine. Scar was still happy Grian was his soulmate. He was still happy to be around him, happy to have whatever weird not quite something it was that they had. There was still the nights, when the heat of the sun was sucked out of the world. When Grian would shuffle up to him and squeeze himself into his arms. Where they'd just silently be, under the dark sky, when the sun couldn't shed light on the reality of their relationship. When nothing was under scrutiny and they didn't need to talk about anything. The faint green light of the soulbound wrapping between them the only light, the only context they needed.

That they were together, and that was all.

And Grian hadn’t mentioned the pandas since he said Scar could bring them over another time so he figured he hadn’t changed his mind. Scar had, in some regards, changed his mind. He still spent time with the jellies, he still trekked over to the jungle just to be in their presence and find the peace he so desperately needed. But it had been almost a week now since he'd found out he and Grian were soulmates and it must have been only a few days after that he unwound his soulbound from the jellies. It wasn't that he didn't care, because he did. He did care. It was partly because his physical features were annoying him to no end and partly because Grian had, rather fairly so, convinced him that being soulbound to a panda, whether officially or not, they didn't know the affects of it. And if someone could easily kill the panda and take Scar down with it, well, it wasn't good for the two of them but it also put a massive target on the pandas back that Scar didn't want there. With all that being said, he still cared more about the jellies more than anything and he still wanted to have them with him. So what difference did it make anyway if Grian approved or not? He wasn’t the boss of him. His soulmate was doing plenty of things he didn’t approve of, he could do the same.

So he made his way over to the spiky fort as night fell, the sun sinking below the mountain level and into the ravine.

He craned his neck to look over his shoulder at Grian who was still busy with the farm as he led the jellies over the line into the spiky fort. Turn around waffle head, he thought anxiously, practically tearing at the seams with energy from sheer excitement to show Grian the result of the days work.

Grian glanced up from where he was preparing wood to get the base finished when he saw Scar, with a whole hoard of pandas surrounding him and his mouth fell open, in confusion and creeping annoyance. He was surprised but he didn’t know why.

“No!” he called plainly, closing his chest frustratedly.

Scar glanced up, grinning and fidgeting with the bamboo in his hand, bursting with excitement. Grian shook his head, making his way over repeating, “No. Noooo. No, no, no, no, no.”

“Oh my gosh, Grian,” Scar continued animatedly, feigning unawareness of his protesting as he tucked the bamboo into his pocket to pull some random pieces of wood from nearby and try to barricade the entrance.

“Scar,” he warned, burying his head in his hands.

“Hold on, I don’t have all the wood that I need.”

He ran out of wood so he pushed two chests over and Grian felt a little like he died inside. If there was one thing he really hated it was people messing with his builds by chucking random shit in a random place. Oh and getting attached to animals in a death game. That too.

“So that’s just temporary,” he assured Grian gesturing wildly at the weird blockade and pushing pandas away that were trying to swipe at the bamboo.

“No. What is this?!” Grian screamed, enough to startle Scar and had to take a deep breath, squeezing his eyes closed and clenching his fists. It wouldn’t do anything to lose it with Scar. Calm down.

“No, Scar, right” he opened his eyes and made careful eye contact with his soulmate, easier said than done because he kept moving about and petting the pandas and checking the structural integrity of his stupid blockade by battering it with his cane, “No, listen here, you.”

Scar glanced up at him, eyebrows raised but at least making eye contact.

“Absolutely, categorically, no. You are not allowed to keep pandas inside the spiky fort.”

Scar faltered, biting his cheek and trying to stand his ground. This was Grian’s place. He just lived here. Silly of him to think otherwise really.

“Where are they gonna live?” he mumbled dejectedly.

“Out- outside!” Grian was still yelling and it was making him feel like shit, “I honestly, I don’t mind where they go as long as they’re outside of the spiky cake.”

Scar tasted blood and realised he was still biting his cheek; quickly let it go. His heart felt heavy and he wondered if Grian could feel that. It wasn’t really a tangible feeling so much as a bone deep weight. He was angry and miserable but he wasn’t surprised. Grian hated the jellies. But he’d been hoping… The past week had been so good!

“The spiky cake?” he asked dejectedly, not moving with his bamboo and letting the pandas get settled into the perimeter.

“It will be a cake when I’m done with it this week.”

They both stood for a moment, staring each other down. Scar felt like he wasn’t really being included in this whole soulbound thing. They were supposed to be working together but instead he felt like Grian was doing his own thing and he was just sort of there.

It was different when Grian owed him his life, when the balance of power was a little more even. He’d seriously underestimated his partner’s need for control.

“Okay,” he sighed. He didn’t really care and he had a horrible feeling it wouldn’t matter if he did. Grian had a plan, he didn’t want Scar’s input. “Alright, well. Okay, um I don’t know where they’re gonna live.”

He felt tears pricking at his eyes and was genuinely a bit embarrassed. He was upset, of course. But not enough to cry over it surely. Grian wasn’t saying he couldn’t have pandas, just that they had to be outside, right? But something about it just felt so harsh. So unfair. This wasn’t a mutual soulbound pair. This was Grian doing whatever he pleased and telling Scar what to do. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fun.

“Outside,” Grian repeated indignantly, hands on his hips and glaring at his soulmate, “Outside where they belong. With the rest of the animals.”

Scar walked out for a moment just so he could wipe his eyes of his tears without Grian seeing and then turned back, straightening his shoulders and pulling at his salesman persona, “What if we just keep them here for just a couple minutes,” he offered, making no effort to disguise the whine in his voice. It was part of the pitch, after all.

Grian just rolled his eyes, actively pushing the rather disgruntled pandas toward the hole in the wall.

“No?” Scar tried to stand in their way so Grian couldn’t push the pandas any further.

“Nope! Outside.”

“No, you can’t push?” His salesman persona was degrading into begging really rather quickly, “You can’t push?”

“No. Outside. Go on.”

Grian turned away from the whole debacle. He had better things to waste his energy on than Scar. Than pushing stupid pandas outside. If Scar wouldn’t take them outside, he’d just start killing them. Not his problem.

Scar couldn’t stop the tears now, wiping them away furiously as he turned and lead the jellies over the threshold, “Oh no,” he sobbed quietly, glancing back at Grian who was already dragging wood over to build the wall blocking out the jellies, blocking out him.

“Goodbye now,” he chimed in a deceptively cheery tone, nailing the wood up now, “Bye, bye now.”

“Oh,” Scar stood there, with a crowd of confused and slightly frustrated pandas standing around him, stupid tears falling on his face. He wiped them away and his bamboo slipped through his fingers, dropping to the ground. He was far too slow to stop the pandas from grabbing it and they started fighting amongst themselves to get a piece. “Oh no,” he muttered, burying his head in his hand.

Grian sighed, squeezing his eyes closed as if he might keep his sympathy at bay. He hadn’t meant to make Scar cry. He never meant to hurt him. It was just- void why did he always have to get so obsessed- those stupid pandas were gonna die! And there really was nothing he could do to stop that from happening and to stop all the fallout from that happening. Clearly, just telling Scar to get rid of them wasn’t helping.

Now his soulmate was crying and it was his fucking fault and if he didn’t deal with the fallout of that, it could be even worse. But he also wasn’t about to give in. He wasn’t going to deal with this all season.

“If you wanna keep pandas and play your little panda games,” he tried to keep his tone nice-ish, “this is not the time nor the place for it. Not in these games, Scar.”

Scar glanced up at his soulmate, his slightly kinder tone something of a consolation. And acknowledgement, especially from Grian, of a place outside these games, was very rare. No-one liked to bring up the vague memory of something more. Because no-one knew what it was they were remembering. The Watchers and their mind games. It was one of the worst things for Scar. Not being sure of his own mind felt like being trapped in his own existence.

But Grian’s acknowledgement had to mean something.

He said nothing, turning and speaking to the jellies instead, “I’ll find you a home guys don’t worry.”

Grian rolled his eyes, going over to his chests to drag over more wood for the wall. He was so sick of Scar’s antics already and it had barely been two weeks. How the hell was he gonna survive a whole season? However long that lasted. Two yellow names already, he wasn’t sure.

“It’s okay,” he heard Scar’s voice from outside the wall. Was someone here or was he just talking to the pandas? “He doesn’t mean it.” The pandas.

“Oh I do,” he called as he made back to the wall, “Oh I do.”

“He loves you inside,” Scar muttered, talking at the jellies while glancing over his shoulder at Grian, “He loves you.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. This whole bizarre, absurd, stupid situation. He still wasn’t really over Scar being his soulmate. He still hadn’t really grappled with the fact that every single thing that was happening was reminding him freakishly of third life. He still hadn’t actually confronted all of his thoughts, most more intrusive than others, about Scar.

“I mean it,” he scoffed at him, just to make extra sure he knew.

Scar shook his head aggressively at the jellies, continuing in his rambling, “Look at his face, he loves you. Don’t take it serious. No, no he really does love you.”

Grian rolled his eyes as he nailed the last board in place, leaving only a hole wide enough for him and Scar to get in and out of. Not any…larger animals.

“I’m gonna make you a sanctuary,” Scar promised, the idea filling his head and making him grin. If Grian didn’t want them inside the wall, he’d make his own wall. If this was just his place and Scar was just living in it, he’d make his own place and it would be for him and for the jellies and there was nothing he could do to stop him. “You’re gonna love it.”

Grian took a deep steadying breath that didn’t steady him at all. He wanted to shout at Scar to not waste his time, to do something productive, to stop being a short-sighted fool and actually think about the end game. But if he shouted, Scar would just start crying again and no-one would get anything out of it.

“Scar,” he offered instead, gentle but firm, almost teasing but only half-joking, “I have an idea, I have an idea. Why don’t you…leave the pandas alone.”

He wandered out of the wall so he could fix Scar with a pointed look. He just looked a little pissed off.

“Mhm.”

“You know, let them do their thing.” he gestured broadly toward the crowd of them, “And then you can work on other things like getting enough gear, getting enchanted, making a base. Ooh, ooh! I like that last one!” he dropped the stupid over exaggeration and let his face drop, fixing Scar with a frustrated glare, “Why don’t you help make the base?”

Scar stared at him for a solid moment, trying to convey his annoyance and indignance through his look. He hated it when Grian patronised him like that. Even back in the desert, when he found most things he did endearing, the vague patronising tone he always adopted had sometimes gone from protective to oddly parental. Okay, sometimes he’d liked that. It’d been a whole thing but, look, it always used to be a flirty thing. Now, it just felt rude. It just felt demeaning. But he didn’t say anything because he knew exactly why the other man did it. He thought Scar was acting like a child, so he treated him like one. And he knew he couldn’t change his mind that he was acting like a child, so what was the point?

Instead, he stared at him just long enough to convey that he was pissed off and then turned, smiling at the jellies, “Alright everybody. I’m gonna put you in a hole real quick, I’m gonna put you in a hole.”

-

The evening dragged on, moon rising swiftly through the sky, almost full, Grian thought to himself, and incredibly bright. He had a couple more chores to do before he slept and by the looks of things, Scar was gonna stay up all night. He was full of restless energy. He sometimes got in a mood like that. A sort of ‘can’t possibly sleep, can’t possibly sit down, can’t possibly stand still’ kind of mood that frustrated Grian to no end. He gave him things to do, to try to deplete the energy so he could actually sleep. His jumping about was really wearying Grian who had none of the energy but was feeling all of the effects of the exertion. He wasn’t sure these soulbound things worked terribly well. It seemed to him that soulmates only shared the bad experiences; cold, tired, hunger, pain and none of the good ones. It hadn’t been his intention. But maybe it was someone else’s. Some decision along the way somewhere that he’d been left out of. Probably. Fucking hell.

Joel arrived at some point just as Grian was pulling out things for dinner. He had the same unfortunate curse of endless reckless energy and he had it far worse than Scar. Poor Etho.

Scar was, in a shocking turn of events, completely distracted by his pandas, singing along to himself, ‘in the hole we go, everybody get inside. It’s a beautiful hole’. Joel raised his eyebrows at Grian in hello but said nothing, watching Scar curiously. Grian just rolled his eyes and made a look at Joel like ‘help’. He cracked up laughing, shaking his head and snorting.

“Why does everyone else get a real partner except me?” Grian grumbled as his eyes fell on Scar’s panda hole and went wide with panic. He quickly tried to make his face calm, making for where a light was shining out of the hole. Of all the places Scar could have dug. Really??

“Oh hey Joel!” Scar grinned, noticing his presence for the first time and waving amiably.

Joel was too busy laughing, “Everyone else; let’s get geared up,” he scoffed, “Scar; I want pandas.”

Grian grabbed a stray piece of wood from his construction things and jumped down into the hole, blocking off the light shining from his hidden underground sugarcane rather nonchalantly. Joel was too busy showing off his horrifying new t-shirt with Etho’s face on it to pay him any attention, thank void. Well, not for the t-shirt. That was honestly scary.

He’d found the sugarcane early in the first week and hadn’t really thought anything of it since. But apparently, almost no-one had any. He’d started farming it hidden underground, thrilled that he might actually have a real monopoly.

Scar, getting wildly obsessed with animals, monopolies.

Really, what was new.

The afternoon stretched out, sun refusing to sink below the horizon. Impulse was sitting on the grass, leaning back against the wall of the mid-century modern house, yawning as he watched his partner restlessly till the fields for wheat. The two of them had been building and farming and sorting almost all day. Almost all week in fact. Impulse was tired, he wanted to sleep. He knew he’d have to sort out dinner soon enough, he just needed a minute to sit. Besides, the sun was desperately clinging to the day, so he could desperately cling to this moment, here, with Bdubs.

“We are the best couple on the server, you know that?” he called out to his husband as he came within earshot of Impulse’s loving mumbles.

Bdubs grinned, “That's right, we are.”

The whole husband thing had been a decision on their part toward the end of the first week. In any other situation, it would have been way too fast and it certainly wasn’t a marriage that would hold up in a court of law. With a clock as a ring and not a priest in sight. But they were soulmates, and this game moved fast and it was important to them that they knew they were committed to one another.

“Come on, let’s go to bed,” he mumbled, dragging himself off the ground, “I’m exhausted.”

Bdubs nodded aggressively and leant his hoe against the wall, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Okay. But look Impulse! Look at what we’ve created!”

Impulse made his way over to him and wrapped his arms around his waist, leaning down to rest his head on his shoulder, “Mhm,” he mumbled sleepily, “I mean, look at all these cows that everybody’s gonna want.”

He gestured over to their rather ungraceful pit of cows where a flash of orange and yellow caught his eye. His sleepy demeanour disappeared pretty quickly when he realised what he’d seen, “oh, what- Martyn?” he separated himself from Bdubs who was still beaming proudly at the wheat farm and made his way to the edge of the cow pit, certain now what, or more accurately, who, he thought he’d seen.

“What?!” Bdubs cried, running after him, teetering and almost falling into the cows. Impulse grabbed his sleeve and pulled him back.

“I see you in there!” Impulse yelled at Martyn, who was definitely standing in their cow pit.

Martyn froze. He’d been hoping, wishfully thinking more like, that Bdubs and Impulse would be absolutely fine with him taking them up on their offer of a lifetime access to their cows.

Clearly not.

“Martyn, get out!!” Bdubs shrieked, “Get out of there!”

He panicked. Which he thought was fairly obvious.

“Moooo.”

Impulse frowned, staring exasperatedly and utterly perplexed at him as he bowed his head, only exposing more of the bright orange fabric he was wearing.

“No I don’t understand sorry,” Martyn called up, trying to resist laughing now, “moooooo,”

“Uhuh, uhuh,” Bdubs shook his head, tutting.

“Oh I see,” Impulse laughed.

“Moooooo.”

Martyn gave up and the two of them watched as he rather ungracefully clambered out of the cow pit, puffing and panting and glaring at them, like they’d put him in there.

“Now you gave us a bum deal mister!” Bdubs shouted before he could even crawl all the way out.

“Uhh, wait, wait, what do you mean?” he finally made it out and leapt to his feet, taking deep breaths as he brushed dirt and probably cow shit off his- whatever the hell he was wearing.

“Promised us potions, stuff for potions,” Bdubs clarified angrily, “Blaze rods and such. And then we can’t use ‘em!”

Martyn shrugged with a smirk, “Well you didn’t check first!”

The three of them exchanged looks, Bdubs and Impulse glared at him and Martyn sighed, leaning against their wall and swinging his pack off his back, it still looked full. Had he still not found a place to live?

“Okay, well, how about this?” he held up his hands in a tentative surrender, “I give you something else to sort of, you know, top up the deal and we call it a day?”

Neither one of them were sure about that. Bdubs was more looking for compensation and to kick Martyn’s ass off their property but Impulse was thinking if there was anything they needed that Martyn could give. He had been to the nether after all. Luckily, for Martyn probably, there was.

“I know what I need!” he cried, “I have a plan!” and then realised he was being way too loud and calmed down a little, pursing his lips.

“And here it is!” Bdubs exclaimed, though he was a little miffed that Impulse probably wasn't gonna let him punch their intruder.

“I…forgot I actually need the red mushroom as well,” he offered, eyebrows raised at Martyn who frowned and then shrugged.

“Ah! Okay. I…I can do that. One red mushroom and our deal is locked in, secured, yeah?”

Impulse didn’t think one red mushroom was really what he had in mind but Martyn was already pressing one into his hands, rambling, “I tell you what, I’ll be- I’m gonna be respectful about it. I’m not gonna gather food for other people. Anything I get from here is just for moi.”

Which Impulse immediately found interesting because when they’d first made the deal, Martyn had been saying he was getting stuff for him and Pearl. But they hadn’t been soulmates…what had happened there?

“That’s what I love to hear,” Bdubs nodded, raising an eyebrow at Impulse who dragged himself out of his own thoughts and shrugged, “Okay. I think we can- we can manage that.

Bdubs wasn’t really listening. He was staring at Impulse who was biting his lip and going all cross-eyed the way he always did when he was thinking. It was oddly endearing.

“Yes,” he called absent-mindedly, grinning.

“That works cos I don’t like my soulmate,” Martyn laughed, shrugging again, “so it really is just for me.”

Bdubs burst out laughing, finding it oddly reassuring to know that some people were unhappy with their soulmates. Maybe the plan that he and Impulse had been floating for a few days, bits and pieces here and there. Maybe it could actually work.

Impulse laughed too, clapping his hands and sarcastically calling, “LET HER starve!”

Martyn joined in with the laughter, running a hand through his hair, “Yeah. Genuinely. Forget Cleo.”

Cleo. Bdubs remembered with a frown, that’s right. What beef did Martyn and Cleo have?

After a little update on where he’d been all week, mining apparently though neither Bdubs nor Impulse could see how anyone could spend the better part of a whole week down a cave, Martyn made off into the night that had finally won out over the stubborn sun. Impulse turned to Bdubs with a raised eyebrow and whispered, “Are we gonna tell Cleo he said that?”

“Yeah, yeah!” Bdubs nodded enthusiastically, “Oh yes. Oh yes.”  He grabbed Impulse’s arm and pulled him inside, shutting the door behind him, Okay, come in here, come in here.”

Impulse started digging in his chests, thinking about dinner and rather dejectedly wondering what the hell they were gonna eat. For all their progress on getting sustainable food sources set up, they didn’t exactly have a lot of food now. He decided he’d have to make it a priority to go out foraging tomorrow. They could kill a cow, they had enough. That would last them a good few days, the better part of a week if they could find a decent way to store it.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Bdubs called to him, still standing right by the door, glancing out like someone was about to burst in. He was being weird, Impulse distantly thought, more than usual. “So. Here’s- here’s the idea. For, for, for- for our lives. Okay?”

Impulse raised his eyebrows at him expectantly, a perplexed frown already creasing the corners of his mouth as he muttered, “Yep.” So Bdubs would hurry to his elaboration.

“You and I,” he continued, still painfully slowly, “We’re gonna be. Homewreckers. Okay?”

Impulse burst out laughing, something about the dramatic way Bdubs said it and then just, homewreckers. What did he even mean by that? At this point, Impulse was just confused by everything and willing to along with anything. It seemed the easiest way to go about things.

“We’re the homewreckers,” Bdubs repeated seriously and Impulse nodded, pretending to match his tone while cackling inside. “So if we look at everybody that is- that is soulmates together…” he scrabbled in a chest near the door and pulled out a knife and a chunk of wood, “Our mission, is to plant seeds of doubt. And to get them to distrust and break up.” He moved to the corner and sat on the bed, beckoning for Impulse to join him. He sighed, abandoning the scraps of food he’d been putting together for dinner on the crafting table and heading over to the bed in the corner. He clambered on, sitting close enough to Bdubs to see over, and lean his head on, his shoulder.

“I’ve got Martyn and Cleo,” Bdubs mumbled, carving initials into the wood. They were still a while off paper yet, “Ren and BigB, Grian and Scar…”

“Does Scar…know that yet or…?”

They hadn’t really been over the other edge of the map where everyone else was living. Impulse had to assume that Grian had told Scar by now but he probably would have said that quite a few times in the first week and he absolutely hadn’t so who knew at this point.

“I don’t know if he does,” Bdubs laughed, tongue between his teeth as he worked on the carving. It seemed like a lot of work to Impulse, but Bdubs was making quick progress.

“We better figure that out,” Impulse mused, staring up at the wavy stone patterns of the ceiling, “I don’t know.”

“Etho and…” Bdubs glanced beside him at his soulmate who looked down from the ceiling with a frown, “Joel right?” Impulse shrugged and so did Bdubs, carving it in anyway, “Pearl and Scott?”

“Well must be,” Impulse nodded, finally being bothered to go through and check people off in his mind. There had been fourteen of them at the start. He knew that much. “because Tango and uh, and Jimmy are together.”

“Tango and Jimmy, okay.” More carving.

“Cos they died, last week together.”

“And that’s it. That’s it. Right.” Bdubs finally finished his little name board and abandoned the knife on the floor next to the bed. Impulse bent to move it to the end of the bed so they wouldn’t trod on it. “Now Impulse, the other thing is.”

“Yep?”

“We have to kind of,” he gestured generally at the board, “go through and pick who do we want to like us? You know, out of these two.”

Impulse nodded slowly, glancing over the names trying to think already who he’d want. “Mm. That’s a good idea.” What if him and Bdubs wanted different people though.

“So, so, Etho and Joel,” that was an obvious one wasn’t it? “You know, I, uh…I want Etho.” Okay. So him and Bdubs were on the same page then.

Impulse laughed, “Yeah, yeah,” but suddenly realised quite how cruel it was what they were doing. It wasn’t really fair but hey, if the two of them could break up a pair, that pair probably wasn’t a good fit anyway.

“Sorry Joel,” Bdubs laughed, shrugging and carving a wonky circle around Etho’s name on the board. Impulse grinned, appreciating the utter unnecessariness of the whole board thing.

“Yeah Joel was stealing stuff from us last week anyway so…”

“So we plant seeds of doubt on- against Joel.”

“There we go,” Impulse nodded as Bdubs stared at the board, tracing his finger down it and tapping randomly. Then he let it fall into his laps, throwing up his hands and shrugging, “Oh the rest we’ll just play it by ear. ”

“Yeah exactly,” Impulse was glad Bdubs had decided that because he’d just been thinking it all depended on who they saw and how everyone already was with their soulmates. “Whatever info we can get to uh start driving wedges between right?” Bdubs nodded aggressively and Impulse wrapped his arms around him a little more, “Because, we’re undoubtably the- the power couple when your looking at this board.”

“The power couple!” Bdubs cheered, turning his head to kiss Impulse and grinning into his lips, “Yes!”

Impulse took the opportunity, closing the gap between them before his soulmate could, the board lying completely abandoned between them as they made out over it.

“Right?” Impulse muttered, finally separating himself from Bdubs with a sigh. They did need to eat sometime soon. “So, if we’re gonna stay on top, then we, we’re gonna need to split these guys up.”

“That’s right.”

“I like that.” He grinned at Bdubs who was still smirking like an idiot, “Bdouble0,” he murmured, “You’re a goddamn genius.”

Which delayed dinner further.

Grian had sent Scar off to chop down trees at about mid-day. So he’d gotten a tiny little bit side-tracked. Was that such a crime? He could do what he wanted.

His personal plan, other than doing his chores like the obedient little child he was. Void, he was so pissed off at Grian right now, was to get a horse. Or a donkey, or a mule if there were any out there. He really didn’t care. Just something he could ride, something that could take him all the way to the finale, cos he knew Grian wouldn’t and he needed someone to trust, to rely on. Even if that someone was a horse.

He'd made himself a saddle, he had some rope and some apples in his pack. He was ready to go. He was set. And Grian couldn’t possibly be disappointed if he came back on a horse. Right? He was traipsing through the forest for most of the afternoon stopping on logs every so often to eat and rest, try and fail to get his bearings. He did vaguely notice the temperature drop, he knew he’d walked into the cold part of the forest. But he wasn’t paying attention. He wasn’t actually thinking about what that meant. He wasn’t watching where he was going.

So when he fell chest deep into snow, he freaked out. He shrieked and scrabbled, only succeeding in getting himself colder because his hands slammed into ice and a sharp shooting freezing cold pain got all the way to his shoulder.

“Oh no,” he gasped as he continued scrabbling, the cold biting and freezing against his bare skin. He was shuddering now, shivers racking his spine as he tried desperately to wiggle his way out, eventually he got through enough snow that he got to the edge of the chunk he was stuck in and it crumbled around him, sending him tumbling down a snowy hill, the cold stinging and biting all the way down. He lay there at the bottom for a moment groaning as his skin was slowly burned numb. His angry lack of energy made furious battle with the cold and shivering soon won out. He sighed and grabbed his cane from where he'd abandoned it in the snow and clambered to his feet, making up the hill again to where his pack had fallen off in the tumble. He settled himself on a fallen log for a minute, taking deep breaths and brushing the snow off his clothes. He hadn’t brought his jacket. Bad move, in retrospect. But he hadn’t been planning to go tumbling down a snow covered hill, so you know. He’d been a little worried there that that was going to be a very, very slow death. He was sure Grian was currently furious with him. Thought of Grian almost made him angry again but he found he didn’t quite have the energy, so it just made him sad.

He sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing them frustratedly. Then he fished out one of his apples to eat on his journey as he headed off. His skin was still crawling with the cold and he was desperate to get out of the snow.

-

Pearl was, just for a change, having a quiet evening, sitting at home with Tilly. She knew at some point she'd have to go out and meet people. But not yet. She wasn't ready. She was constructing ladders so she could actually come and go from her tower. It seemed something of a priority. The moon was bright in the sky, casting the trees into silhouette against the soft white light. There was something serene about the quiet, like the soft sounds of the forest were lulling her into a fragile peace. She really needed that right now.

She spotted Scar’s torch down on the ground before she could make out his face, the glow of the flickering flame below, held aloft as he stared up at her. she made out his confused frown through the dark and laughed to herself.

There was no way for Scar to get up to her. She found it an oddly comforting thought. That people couldn’t just wander in whenever they pleased. Still, she’d like to be able to get up and down. But she didn't have her ladder yet. So for now, she settled for a water bucket. Although she did hesitantly glance down as he began to swim up it. She really hoped he didn’t fall. If he fell out of the water, she swore she’d just die inside.

-

Scar really needed somewhere to sit down. He’d been walking for the better part of the day and all of the night thus far, which admittedly, was only about an hour and a half now, but he couldn’t just find a log to settle on to catch his breath and have a drink like he had in the day. The chattering of birds had turned into a buzzing of insects and he was getting bitten which he was sure was pissing off Grian. The rustle in the undergrowth had taken a more sinister tone and he was more than ready to be home. But he was utterly lost and confused and wandering through the forest aimlessly wasn’t helping his panicking heart. So when he saw the shining light of Pearl’s rickety tower, it felt like an oasis in a desert for miles around. He tried to ignore how much the thought of a desert made him want to cry and began searching around the base for a way up. Apparently there wasn’t one because there was suddenly an almighty splash and he glanced up to see Pearl standing at the window, waving him up, bucket in hand. For a moment Scar panicked, seeing a glint of red wrapped around her shoulders but paused in realisation when he noticed her soulbound, stretching off into the distance, was still glowing faintly green.

What was she doing all the way up there? He was grateful for her house being there but why did it have to be so high? He really didn’t want to swim up the water. Last time, he died in a water elevator and he still had no idea how he was supposed to get up without drowning. But he really needed somewhere to sit and eat and maybe just spend a half hour before he made his way home. So…okay, okay he was gonna do it. But he had to be super safe.

He made sure his pack was tied tightly and blew out his torch, tucking his cane into his belt and diving into the stream.

The water garbled in his ears and immediately soaked through his clothes, pressing against his skin and making him shudder with a bone deep cold as he tried desperately to swim. He almost immediately needed to breathe and had to carefully stick his head out of the stream, gasping for breath before diving back into the cold and the wet. The searing pain in his chest only got worse the further up he went with his far from satisfying breaths. “This is very dangerous Pearl!” he yelled the first time he breached for air as he got within ear shot.

“I know! You’re giving me flashbacks. Please don’t repeat history okay?”

“Well I-” He coughed and felt a sharp pain sear his throat. Oh gosh. “It’s,” he yelled as he gasped desperately for air, “It’s happening! I’m drowning!”

“Scar!”

His hands flailed and he managed to grab one of Pearl’s pillars to keep himself in place with his head outside of the water while he coughed and panted.

“I just need to catch my breath a bit!”

“Sca-ar,” Pearl groaned, burying her head in his hands.

“I’m determined to prove that I can do this without dying!” Scar called up at her, mind set now. He dived back into the stream, he was so close now. He pushed through the burning in his eyes, his chest, his throat. If he took another breath, he might get water again. He just needed to get to the top, he was so close. He reached out his hands, pushing them back one last time and grabbing Pearl's floor, hoisting himself up and taking a huge gasp of air. Pearl rushed forward and helped him out of the water before taking her bucket and scooping it up again, shaking her head as he sat panting and dripping on her floor.

“You know, if you just waited five more minutes, I would have had a ladder for you and that would have been more safer.”

Scar sighed, gulping back the last of the salty taste in his mouth and shaking his head with a grin, “What’s the fun in that Pearl?”

She shook her head exasperatedly at him as he clambered to his feet, wringing out his clothes, “What’s the deal with this?” he asked, gesturing around her little house, a hundred feet in the air, “This is amazing!”

“I know,” she nodded enthusiastically and made her way open to one of the walls that was still just a gaping hole, “I can see everything from here.”

She turned back to him with a sigh and sat down on a rather haphazardly put together crafting table as Scar pulled what little food he had from his pack, “I’m not tied down by anyone right now, So I figured I would just,” she shrugged and gazed out the window to her right, “Put my face in the stars and go observe everybody else,” Ironic because the moon was so bright, you could hardly see the stars. She sighed heavily and turned back with a much more forlorn expression, “And silently cry to myself because everybody’s abandoned me.”

“Lucky you!” He exclaimed frustratedly, thinking miserably that maybe things would be easier if Grian just abandoned him. He wouldn’t have him constantly hanging on waiting for the other shoe to drop. They could both just move on. “Grian’s banished my pandas already outside,” he ranted, throwing up his hands angrily, “And about ten minutes from now, I’m sure he’s gonna banish me!”

“No!” Pearl exclaimed with a sympathetic frown, “no, no. Well,” she stared at her soulbound as she twisted it between her fingers and shrugged, glancing around the tower, “this is a pretty cosy place. You could take your pandas over here.”

“I might-” Scar laughed but he wasn’t convinced he was joking, “Save some room over here,” he sighed, “There might be a second tower over here at some point.”

He felt a bit sad, sitting there in his soaking clothes, a hundred feet in the air in the middle of the night. He felt abandoned, disregarded. It wasn’t a new feeling to him but he’d thought, he’d hoped…double life, soulmates, Grian! Of all people. He shouldn’t be alone. And maybe, looking at Pearl with a small smile, maybe he didn’t have to be.

She grinned, gesturing around enthusiastically, “Look, I would love a tower neighbour. If you wanna be a tower neighbour, I’m all down for that.” She raised an eyebrow at him that quickly turned into a frown, “Actually, do you have somewhere to go tonight? You can stay here tonight if you’d like.”

He just might take her up on that one. But then he mentioned he was looking for an animal to ride and she mentioned seeing donkeys near the pillagers and from here Scar could actually see, with Pearl’s help pointing, where he had to go to get to the pillagers and the pillagers were close enough to home that he could find his way back. He stayed for a little while longer, maybe a half hour just with Pearl in her tower. She asked about Grian, what was going on with them. He didn’t talk about it too much. He wasn’t sure he could without crying. She told him about how Scott had broken up with her, and Cleo had gone with him and Martyn had left. She seemed remarkably detached. He just nodded thoughtfully.

“I dunno why they’re getting all angry,” he scoffed eventually, finally voicing the thought he hadn’t had the guts to since, well, since third life ended really, “They’re all leaving us and we’re the reason they won!”

“Exactly!” Pearl cried, pointing aggressively at Scar and then tucking her hair behind her ear with a sigh, “I was nothing but good to Scott. Nothing. And this is how he repays me?”

Scar was quite intrigued by the whole tower neighbours proposition. It seemed like they were in remarkably similar boats. Though Pearl’s involved Cleo and Martyn and whatever more complicated situation was going on there.

But eventually, he got up to go, he plotted out a map in his head to the pillager outpost and he made down the water that Pearl replenished. It was far easier on the way down and though he had to relight his torch, he was quickly on his way.

-

Scar started trudging through the forest and almost immediately forgot where he was supposed to be going. It was all easy enough above at Pearl’s where he could clearly see over the trees, but now on the ground with them towering over him, stretching into the distance and snaking into every corner of his vision. He was just lost and overwhelmed and confused.

Eventually, he made it out of the thickest trees and into a plain. He wasn’t home and the long grass tickled his bare legs, but he could see light in the distance. Was that, Bdubs and Impulse across the way? Must be. He wanted to get there so badly, he really needed to get home. Maybe they could show him the way? It would at least be somewhere to wait a moment before setting off again. Maybe he could just spend the night and make way in the morning when things were light and there weren't any monsters. He made up his mind and almost immediately lost his brain. He made forward across the plains as fast as he could, grass whipping at his legs. The air was cold and he’d been shivering all night, but he’d still broken a sweat by the time he got there. The flat land made the bright lights of their house seem a lot closer than they actually were and by the time he got there he was panting heavily. Not the best of ideas when he was already tired. He'd been restless with energy this morning and had been since last night, he'd barely slept. Now he was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to curl up with Grian in the spiky fort. But he doubted that was gonna happen for him tonight.

Bdubs invited him in before he actually arrived, waving his hands excitedly. And once he could see Scar close enough to see he was wet, he insisted he come in and sit by the fire. It was much warmer in their house, and the fire made good work of drying out his sodden clothes. Impulse was making some mushroom soup sort of thing for dinner for the two of them while Bdubs sorted stuff into their chests, near Scar and the fire. He asked him how things were going between him and Grian. He gave a fairly nondescript answer. Bdubs and Impulse were chatting amiably and asking for each other’s advice and casually making decisions together as Bdubs pointed out things they could do with the base. Scar sat quietly in the corner, appreciating the warmth and the dry and the company and trying desperately to be happy fro the two of them. But he just couldn’t find it in himself.

Jealousy ate at him like a mould, growing over all the comfort Pearl had provided him with. He should be happy for them, he shouldn’t care. It wasn’t like other people also being miserable made him any happier, Pearl had proven that much. But it was just another vicious reminder of what could have been. What once was. That was what hurt more. It wasn’t just that they could have had more than whatever they did at the moment. It was that they used to. They used to be happy, they used to be amiable and easy going and mutually making decisions, they used to love each other just as much as Bdubs and Impulse seemed to and maybe they still did. He didn’t know but they didn’t have this anymore. Somehow, he’d ruined it and he didn’t know how and it scared and frustrated him and made him miserable.

He really needed to just talk to Grian. But he couldn’t bring himself to and it wasn’t like he’d get any straight answers anyway. He eventually told Bdubs about his donkey plan, hoping it would give him an excuse to leave and Bdubs got all excited, raving and ranting about how there were horses in the plains nearby and come on they should get them together and before he knew it, he was wrapped up in Bdubs’ coat, following him and his torch up a hill in the plains nearby. Impulse stayed behind to cook and Scar was very quietly glad. He liked Impulse, it wasn’t him, it was just the lovey doveyness of the two of them, together. He couldn’t deal with it.

Him and Bdubs had a nice evening together as well, okay it probably wasn’t evening anymore. Bdubs’ clock said almost midnight and Scar probably could have guessed that by the way the moon was glaring at the two of them from right in the middle of the sky. They managed to tame some horses, Scar finding a large black steed with white spots that almost immediately took a liking to him. It was when they were just racing each other to the intermittent trees and back that Bdubs got all quiet and Scar started to get nervous. It was unlike his brother to be so secluded; he seemed almost nervous.

“Um, Scar?” he said after a good ten minutes of silence.

“Yep?” he called behind him, riding up over the hill. He’d spotted some trees down in the valley, in a sort of swampy pit of mud and he thought- were they? 

“I, uh, so Grian was by earlier.”

“Oh here’s the um, here’s the mangroves.” They were tall trees, really towering but also spindly in a fascinating kind of way and with all twisted gnarly roots. Apparently, the wood was supposed to be pink but the bark looked just a slightly more red brown. “Is this what Grian was here to get?”

He thought he’d mentioned some plan about using mangrove wood at one point.

“I think so,” Bdubs nodded to himself, yeah sure. He could go with that. “Well, okay so know I- alright.” He had to be careful about this. He had to make sure it was believable but also easy to explain away if Scar told Grian. It was a difficult line to walk. “I can’t- I can’t say everything. But-”

Scar frowned, turning his horse around and riding back towards Bdubs. “Oh no.” What was he on about? It didn’t sound good. “What’s going on?”

Bdubs looked concerned, and definitely nervous now. Scar’s heart started thudding angrily. He was scared now. What had happened?

“Grian was by earlier and all I can say is,”

“Yesss?”

“Just,” he sighed, looking Scar directly in the eye, all serious, “just be careful uh, in that relationship.”

Scar let his mouth hang open, a frown settling itself and tears pricking at his eyes again, “Why?” he whined, closing his mouth and biting his cheek. Just when he thought Grian had reached his peak of asshole. Other shoe and all that.

“I can’t say!” Bdubs insisted, shaking his head.

Scar sighed, oh whatever. Whatever. He was angry, of course he was. Whatever Grian had said, done. Whatever Bdubs knew. He was angry, he was annoyed and miserable but he wasn’t surprised. Damn right he wasn’t surprised. It seemed on brand at this point. He was just angry and annoyed and miserable that it seemed on brand.

“Well, have you heard?” He raised his eyebrows at Bdubs who creased his with a concerned look in his eye.

“What?”

“He kicked the- the jellie pandas out. I have them living in a hole outside the fence.”

Bdubs sighed and stared at the grass, “Yeah, that’s nothin.”

Scar didn’t think this conversation could make him feel worse. Apparently, it could. His heart dropped into his stomach and he felt like the weight of his pack doubled. But he didn’t cry, even though he felt like he might. He laughed. He laughed angrily at the unfairness and the absurdity of the whole goddamn situation. And at how vague Bdubs was being about everything and about how on brand that was because no-one ever gave him the fucking answers to anything.

“What’s that supposed to mean??”

“I would just be careful,” Bdubs insisted as Scar started half-laughing half-crying into his hands, “Just be careful in that- in that relationship.”

Bdubs might have felt bad for Scar, for ruining something perfectly good his brother had just for his own gain. If it had been perfectly good. But Scar and Grian were already at odds and everybody knew it wouldn’t last and it probably wouldn’t be good for them even if it did last. Well it certainly wouldn’t be good for Scar. Or anyone else on the server. That relationship needed to fall apart. Otherwise it would rip at the seams and everybody else would be caught in the crossfire.

“Aw man,” Scar cried, running his hands frustratedly through his hair, suddenly full of manic energy, “Bdubs hey, how about this,” he ranted thoughtlessly, too caught up in his frustration, “you- you divorce Impulse and we go off and live in the forest with horses, that sounds like a good plan.”

“Really?!” Bdubs laughed, grinning at him.

“Yeah!” Scar threw his hands up, what the hell. Why not? He’d probably abandon Grian right now. He’d probably take Pearl up on her offer if he could find her again, “Yeah, forget him!”

“Well, hey!” Bdubs shrugged, tilting his head in offering, “Impulse and I, we got room for a third bed.”

Scar nodded thoughtfully. He wasn’t sure if he could necessarily live with Impulse and Bdubs if he’d left Grian. He could barely manage it now. If he was going to leave, he’d much rather go and live with someone just as broken hearted as him and move in with Pearl. “You know, I have been doing my looking around because I’ve got- I’ve got this sense that he doesn’t- that he’s a little apprehensive with me around so…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bdubs nodded, shrugging at Scar with a tentatively raised eyebrow.

“Okay,” He sighed sadly, “Alright. Well, thanks for the horse I guess.”

Not exactly shutting him down, but not exactly accepting his offer either. Leaving his options open, just in case. But already, even as he said his goodbyes and got some directions and made off into the night, he was already thinking around, finding reasons, making excuses. He was already caught in a daydream of maybe again.

Grian would be pleased when he brought back a horse. Maybe he was building this up in his head. Maybe the paranoia he thought he was seeing was just his own paranoia incarnate. Maybe it could all be okay. Maybe Bdubs was exaggerating or Grian had been joking or everything was just fine.

Or maybe he was lying to himself so he wouldn’t feel so alone.

“I planted seeds of distrust," Bdubs grinned as Impulse labelled soup into their bowls, pausing to smirk up at him.

“Oh, you did? With Scar?"

"Yes I did."

The two of them sat together on the floor, huddled up near the fire. A table was still in the works in one corner.

“Did he buy it?”

Bdubs gratefully took his bowl and flashed Impulse another toothless grin. Impulse's heart filled the way it always did when Bdubs got that excited. Which, honestly, was a lot. He was a fairly excitable person.

“Yes, yes! It worked, it worked, instantly.”

Impulse laughed as Bdubs got louder in his enthusiasm, "He said- he said- “can I- live with you.” Immediately."

“That was- that was way too easy man," he sighed, shaking his head and wondering if they'd all be that easy, "wow.”

Bdubs shrugged, clearly having the same thoughts as him as he leaned his head on his shoulder and gave a heavy sigh.

“It was a fragile relationship to start with.”

Pearl watched Scar go after fiddling about for some time lighting his torch. She didn’t rate his chances of getting home. But she was sure someone would find him. She also didn’t rate her chances of getting him to come back. She could smell that man’s denial a mile away. And at the end of the day, she knew both her brother and the man that was obsessed with him, far too well. Her and Scar may be in similar situations in theory, but Grian wasn’t Scott. For better or for worse, he wouldn’t abandon Scar. He would compliment him, smile at him, give him just enough scraps of something for Scar to think it wasn’t worth leaving. They’d stay with each other even if they made each other miserable. At the end of the day, they were just too obsessed, too in love, too fucked in the head and traumatised. To be healthy, or to let it go.

She wouldn’t have a tower neighbour. She’d be alone, again. She honestly wasn’t sure if she’d prefer to be in Scar’s shoes. If she’d rather Scott kept her around and be inexplicably angry at her the whole time. Nah. She was better off alone. She had her tower, she had Tilly. She didn’t need a neighbour, an ally. She certainly didn’t need Scott.

What she did need was a ladder.

She began to climb rather ungracefully down the tower, shimmying carefully with her pack full of ladders she’d been ever so slowly constructing and the equipment to affix them to her pillar. At some point she was going to build a proper base under the floating disk that wasn’t just a few sticks in the air. But right now, she needed a way up and down that didn’t have Scar drowning. She made the final jump to the floor and heard a loud thud behind her.

“Oh!” she shrieked, turning and gasping, clasping a hand to her mouth against a sob that never came. She stood there staring, shock taking over her mind, making every part of her numb as her heart went a hundred miles a minute.

Her dog laid limp in the grass, head lolling to one side, blood staining the soil.

“Tilly whyyyyy?” she sobbed, crashing back into her body and falling to her knees clutching at the already limp body, unsure where to put her hands, what to do with herself. Shit, shit.

She sobbed and choked and screamed until there was nothing left to do with herself. Until the last of her shock drained away and she was left feeling incredibly empty, blood staining her hands and her shorts and her head hurting from panting.

Well. She supposed everyone really had left her at this point.

She stood on weak legs, grabbing her axe from where she’d abandoned it in the grass and clutching it tightly, taking deep shuddering breaths and trying to steady her shaking hands. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t cry, she couldn’t think. She screamed furiously into the forest, as loud as her lungs would let her and then took several steps backward, gulping back tears she didn’t have the energy to cry and pressing her back against a nearby tree trunk. She found herself suddenly quite numb.

Tilly was the only thing that mattered to her in this world. And she just- she just- oh void. She should have sat her down until she finished building it. What was she supposed to do about…

She groaned, burying her head in her hands and tugging at her hair. Pain stabbed at her face where it was already raw from tears and she started crying again, uncontrollable sobs heaving her chest up and down, “Owww, Scott,” she moaned.

Scott was in pain! Her dog was dead! This was going great for her right now. It was going real good.

The tears faded again and she found herself sitting in the damp grass. The back of her mind burned with the image of Tilly just out of her line of sight. She glanced back over where she’d been, but the body had already disintegrated, leaving only the collar she’d so carefully made, with the little love heart charm with Tilly written in swirly writing.

What the fuck was she supposed to do with that.

She stood, feeling numbness seize her chest again, steadying her heart and melting her angry energy. And she was left feeling empty and quite alone. She picked up the collar with shaking fingers, trying to wipe the blood on the grass and failing miserably. She tucked it carefully into the pocket of her cloak and clenched her fists.

She needed another dog. She’d seen a few dogs running around. She couldn’t- no, she couldn’t live without her Tilly. How was she supposed to- well, she didn’t have anyone else and she couldn’t be alone. No. She was gonna get another doggy and it was gonna be…another Tilly. And Tilly was gonna survive. She was gonna make Tilly survive and she was gonna resurrect Tilly because Tilly was the only one that cared about her right now.

She curled her fingers tightly around the collar in her pocket. No. Tilly was gonna live.

Chapter Text

Ren took a hard right past Scott’s house. It seemed like a gentleman’s rule to only try to steal someone’s animals once. Scott had caught him last week, (void it must be the week before last now?) and that was fair play. No, Ren would have to find another source of cows. If he could find one that was. He honestly wasn’t sure where everyone else was at in terms of livestock but him and BigB were running low on supply of food they’d gathered in the first few days when there were still animals to hunt and their one cow really wasn’t doing anything for them. Crops took far too long to grow. They needed a food source now.

So, he was on a quest to uh…shall we say procure someone’s cows. He was willing to trade if it came to that but he really didn’t have anything he thought would be worth someone giving up a stream of income to him so he’d probably have to trade for steak which was a pain in the ass. He really didn't want to have to steal, it wasn't the sort of person he was. Not only was it a fantastic way to make enemies straight out of the gate, it was also just not fair or honest. And maybe those weren't easy things to be in a death game. Maybe Ren needed to give up on trying to be a gentleman, abandon his morals and do whatever he needed to win like everybody else seemed to. But he'd hung on this long, hadn't he? Besides that, there was BigB. Who was so sweet and gentle and never wanted to hurt anyone. That was, at least, Ren's impression of him. He didn't want to be the obnoxious one in the partnership. He didn't want to be a thief. But sometimes you had to do what you had to do. And he wasn't about to let his soulmate starve.

It was about midmorning, Ren might have said around ten o’clock if he had any way of knowing. He was sure Bdubs had gotten a clock by now, maybe he could stop by at some point, see if he had one spare. He doubted it and either way, that didn’t help him now. It didn’t matter either. But he didn’t want to spend too much time away from BigB and accidently miss him again because the other man, being a man as he was, went to sleep and Ren hadn’t even realised the sun was setting.

But the sun was still in the east (because at least Ren had his bearings) and there was a distinctly early feel to the morning, birds still twittering in the trees and golden light still painting the tall strands of grass around him greener than they probably were.

He looked up from where he’d been watching his feet when he noticed the long strands of grass had become short and clipped and was greeted by a wall stretching to the cliff on one side and the forest of the other, only a few meters in front of him. Tango was standing on the gate, balanced precariously with a sign under his arm, a nail between his teeth and a hammer in hand. Ren watched from a distance for a minute, trying to figure out the best way in. The wall made it pretty hard to sneak in unnoticed but maybe up on that hill there was a place he could clamber over.

“Hello good sir!”

He snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of Tango’s voice and cursed himself as he realised he’d lost the opportunity. Maybe he could go inside and distract them? It was a long shot.

“Tango!” he called enthusiastically like he wasn’t annoyed his presence had been noticed. Not that he’d actually, caught up in his plotting, made much effort to hide his presence. “Hey man,” he made forward, pulling Tango, still swinging his hammer in one hand, into a tight hug. “What’s happening baby, what’s happening.” He let him go with a grin and Tango, a little flustered but used to Ren’s behaviour by now, beamed back. “How are you? Welcome to team rancher!” And Ren had caught sight of the sign over Tango’s shoulder, now affixed above the gate. Team rancher.

 “Ooh,” he kept his smile fixed in place as his mind vaguely zoned out, thinking about how he was gonna play this, “I mean I thought I’d come say hello.”

It was early enough in the season that that wasn’t suspicious, right?

Apparently because Tango just beamed enthusiastically, “I was just putting up the sign right now!”

“Whatcha doin at the ranch my boy?” came Jimmy’s voice, complete with a silly accent and an uncontrolled grin from where he was sitting on top of the wall, running a hand energetically through his hair and making an aggressive attempt to calm his fluttering head wings.

“Hey!” Ren called, waving excitedly, “Jimmy, what’s happenin baby, I’m comin for the tour.”

Jimmy jumped down off the wall and hurried to the gate as Tango waved Ren toward it with a flashy grin. Ren didn’t suppose they got many visitors. But then again, neither did him and BigB at Box. Everyone had sort of been keeping to themselves the past week. Getting set up, he supposed.

“This is the ranch,” Jimmy announced theatrically.

“Is this it?” Ren glanced around, following Tango through the gate and letting it fall shut behind him.

“This,” Jimmy nodded, stepping toward him and drawing his attention immediately, “is where you step through these doors,” he sounded serious, warning. Ren frowned. It was wildly out of character for him. “And…you don’t go home.”

Ren’s eyes went a little wide, hand falling for his sword on instinct even as his mind reassured him that logically they were probably joking. They were still only yellow lives. Right?

“You’re at the ranch now, son.”

Okay, his instincts were really starting to kick in now. He took a tentative step backwards, glancing tentatively between the two of them, waiting for the punchline.

“Forever,” Tango added with an equally creepy grin and Ren found his heart was thudding aggressively in his chest, his brain screaming at him to get his sword while the logical part of it told him to calm down.

And then they both started laughing and he physically felt like someone had taken an anvil off his shoulders. He let himself laugh while trying to steady his shaking hands, “That’s one of the creepiest things I’ve heard in a long time,” he gasped, scoffing out a laugh through deep breaths.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jimmy laughed, though his tone was genuine. He put a hand on Ren’s shoulder and gestured around, “But yeah! Yeah we got, we got a cool place going.”

“Oh it’s beautiful man,” Ren sighed as he relaxed a little and made for the wheat farm, far bigger and more well hydrated than his and BigB’s. Certainly sunnier and it seemed to be growing better. “Look you got some food growing here.”

“Yep!” Jimmy was already at his shoulder, jumping up and down excitedly as Tango, leaning nonchalantly by the door with an equal excitement called, “Uh-huh, uh-huh.”

“We got some cows in there as well!” Jimmy added, pointing at the house with all that boundless enthusiasm of his. Ren raised his eyebrows, trying not to let on how much that excited him.

“Oh yeah, I hear some mooing going on.”

Tango had moved from the wall in an instant to stand in front of the door, laughing nervously. “There’s uh nothing. Just growing crops here.”

“Oh,” Ren wanted to laugh but he kept his composure, “right.”

Jimmy looked at Tango in a panic and he gave him a reassuring smile. Very sweet and all but immediately gave away that they were lying. Not that Jimmy hadn’t done that already. Clearly they had cows and Jimmy hadn’t been aware it was supposed to be a secret. But as secret cow operations went, the mooing was a bit loud.

“Yeah, the ranch,” Jimmy said slowly, brow creased and tongue stuck in his cheek like he was trying really hard to think, “We just grow wheat, that’s all we do.”

Clearly he was just as confused as Ren as to why they were going so hard on the ranch branding if they were pretending not to have animals.

“Right,” Tango sounded equally uncertain. Evidently, neither of them had thought this through.

“Riiiiiight.”

“We- we- we’re wheat ranchers.”

This stumbling was getting too much even for Ren to pretend to ignore so he turned away, gesturing into the distance and talking loudly over the wheat ranchers squabbles that they probably thought were quiet. “I mean, you guys have a magnificent view of Box, which I like.”

“Dude it looks so good!” Jimmy jumped on board with his topic diversion, lying enthusiastically.

“Magnificent,” Tango added with a lot more unenthused sarcasm.

“Oh yeah! Ren, Ren.” Jimmy jumped on the spot and then ran his hands nervously across his trousers and cleared his throat, “There was- there was something actually, have you still got um, have you still got goats? On the side of your…” he paused, glanced at Tango and then into the distance, “Box.”

Ren smirked, sensing a bargaining chip coming into his arsenal, “Yep. Yep. We’ve got a couple more goats.”

Tango glanced at Jimmy and then back at Ren with an eyebrow raised in offering, “Really? So maybe...would you be interested in trade?"

“Hmm.” There it was. His opening. “Well I have conveniently for no real reason whatsoever of course, have some leads with me.”

He tugged the rope out of the pocket of his pack he’d carefully tucked it into for ease of access.

“Oh.” Tango gave a scoffing laugh, giving Ren an ‘I get you’ sort of a look. “Just, anticipating opportunities that may arise.”

“There’s lots of cliffs around, you know what I’m saying?”

“Exactly, okay.”

He wasn't sure Jimmy quite understood his implication of using a lead as a grappling hook because he was standing behind Tango frowning and rather abruptly ended their exchange of insinuations.

“So, you came here for the finer selection of a cow, huh?”

“Well I was just coming to look around,” he shrugged, “I didn’t have any thoughts in my mind about potentially stealing a cow, WHAT- I mean…”

“No, of course not. Of course not.”

Ren had long since learn you could reword your way out of most problems in the green days. He was just saving Scott’s cows. He was just having a look around the ranch. Okay, the word was probably lying. But it wasn't like he was actually deceiving anyone. Everyone was aware of what was happening, they just would prefer to keep things civil.

“So maybe we could work something out here,” Tango offered, opening the door and gesturing inside, “You don’t have to soil your good name by stealing our…our prized bovine and instead-”

“I like that!” Ren didn’t mean to cut him off, it just sort of slipped out, “I’ve been wrestling with my conscience for like three days.”

“Yeah!” Tango insisted, ushering Ren inside, “See! You’re not gonna be able to sleep at night.”

The inside was just about the same as the outside, if a little warmer. Ren was sure that was nice at night but in the heat of the day, it was a little stiflingly unpleasant. There was a collection of furnaces and a crafting table on the wall right next to the entrance, a pile of abandoned stuff that looked as though it were being slowly sorted into chests on the opposite wall and a fire with a stove top on the adjacent one. A single unmade bed in the corner with a few burn marks on the pillows.

And on the far-right wall, a gate leading to a pen full of cows. The smell wasn’t great and Ren suspected this whole underground cow operation would quite quickly be not very worth it.

“Two goats for two cows,” Jimmy proposed, making for the gate.

“Have we got a deal Ren?” Tango offered his hand, raising an eyebrow.

“Ooh, two goats for two…okay.” He shook his hand and grinned over at where Jimmy was already leading out two cows, “Okay.”

BigB heard a goat horn and groaned, rolling his eyes. The horns didn’t bother him too much, but this one sounded really closed. Who was that? He peered out the window, realising it was probably actually quite far away, the sound of them travelled like nothing and was impossible to pinpoint. “Hey,” he called down into the probably empty forest, aiming for commanding but it came out far too timid, “Qui- quiet out there!”

The horn sounded again and this time, the culprit stepped out of the shadow of the trees, bright blond hair like a torch against the dark grass.

“Aww, look who it is!” BigB called with a genuine grin that hid all his rather more genuine nervousness. He didn’t really want to interact with Martyn right now.

“He-hey!” Martyn grinned, glancing up at BigB, looking like a damsel in distress the way he was leaning out the tower window. “He-llo!”

He was honestly excited to see BigB, despite everything. He knew him and Ren were paired, and okay maybe that was most of the reason he was excited to talk to him, to sort of talk, and if the conversation happened to turn to soulmates, well, he could quietly form an impression of how their bond was going. No crime in that.

BigB forced a laugh, taking steadying breaths. He’d been alone or with Ren pretty much all week and so seeing Martyn, while exciting, was also terrifying. “How are you?” he asked fairly redundantly. Martyn was still carrying his full pack, wearing god knows what and covered in scratches and bruises. It didn’t look to BigB like he was doing well but he just shrugged, calling enthusiastically, “I’m good!”

He shifted, kicking at the dirt and coughing awkwardly, “How are you? I haven’t really seen you yet this uh this season.”

Not that he’d really seen much of him last season. Void, what was he rambling?

“Yeah I know,” BigB laughed, rubbing the back of his head, “I saw you like…once.”

Maybe. If you counted right at the beginning when they were all together. Either way, they certainly hadn’t been one on one. Not in a while.

“That’s very precarious dude,” Martyn gestured at the way BigB was leaning out of the glassless window in the flat cobblestone wall. If he fell, he was falling all the way to the bottom and probably to his death. “Have you not even got something to break your fall?”

“No, no,” he waved a reassuring hand, “this is just payback for whenever Ren makes me upset.”

Martyn raised an eyebrow with a snicker, knowing both of them well enough to know that was probably an ongoing bit at this point.

“You know we have a- it’s in our contract,” BigB looked a little exasperated for a moment and Martyn smirked to himself, muttering, “oh jeez.” He wouldn’t be surprised if Ren had actually written up a contract and there’d almost certainly been a verbal oath. Ren wasn’t one for unofficial alliances or dubious trust. “I just-” BigB started but then caught sight of Martyn, smirking up at him and forced his frown into a grin, “Come up here dude! What’re you doing?”

“I don’t know how to get in,” Martyn laughed exasperatedly, moving toward the wall and glancing along its length like a door might suddenly appear in the flat blank wall. “It’s- this thing is a fortress and also a massive eyesore, I’ll be honest.”

BigB didn’t tell him those were the exact two things they were aiming for it to be, just smiling to himself as he announced, “It’s called the box,” with all of Ren’s theatrics that he could muster. He wanted to do Box justice after all.

“Oh,” Martyn laughed, scrabbling through his pack as he realised there definitely wasn’t an entrance, “the box.”

"Alright uh so…" BigB pointed frantically to the right, trying to get Martyn to see the entrance as he made toward Box with his pickaxe, You can come round the" Martyn frowned, turning right and walking up a little further, glancing up at BigB with an utterly exasperated expression. "Yeah, keep going this way!" he assured him, gesturing frantically at the right. He'd just about decided to go out and help him when Martyn shrugged and called nonchalantly, "I can just come through the wall, yeah?" and began attacking at it with his pickaxe.

"No, no, no, no, no." BigB yelled, turning around to rush downstairs and get outside and just show freaking Martyn the way in.

"Oh yeah that works," he heard his voice from inside downstairs as he made down the ladder. He jumped off and groaned, immediately burying his head in his hands, “Ohh, No. Ren’s gonna kill me!”

He'd made a hole in the wall big enough for him to duck through and the stone had crumbled into the garden.

Martyn glanced up at him, the act may be overexaggerated but the fear, the desperation, was real. He knew all too well how it felt to be trying desperately to impress Ren. Not that he expected anyone to, there was just something about him, his calmly assured presence that made everyone tread on eggshells.

“Hold on,” he muttered, grabbing the scraps of cobblestone and trying to shove them back into place, “It’s fine, no, no, it’s cool, it’s cool.”

“In our garden,” BigB groaned accusatorily, making no effort to help Martyn with fixing the wall. Clearly, he wasn’t that worried.

“There we go!” Martyn exclaimed as he shoved the last shards of stone into place, “That worked! Speaking of which…do you happen to have any carrots?”

BigB sighed, rubbed his eyes and frowned, “Uhh lemme check actually.”

He made over to his chests and Martyn leant against the wall, glancing around the place. It wasn’t much prettier inside than on the outside but it was at least warmer and even this level, which he was pretty sure was just entrance and farm, had a cosy sort of feeling to it.

“Carrots is the one thing that I wanna have a little mooch around, see if I can get a trade on,” he explained as he took his bag off with a groan and dumped it on the floor. He really needed to find somewhere to live.

“No,” BigB sighed, shutting the chest and turning around with an apologetic expression, “We do not have any carrots. But!” he pointed at Martyn, catching his eye seriously, “I will- I will take a mental note and I will try and get you some carrots if- if no-one else does before me.”

“Right,” Martyn shrugged, “Okay no worried.” He turned to BigB with a raised eyebrow and a little smirk he hoped wouldn’t go entirely over his head, “Where’s- where’s boss man? Where’s he at?”

BigB watched Martyn cautiously while trying to keep his demeanour casual, the odd little dance the two of them were having in their rather stilted conversation, “He’s out, doing some- some business I’m not allowed to-”

“I was gonna say he’s right here,” Martyn said with a grin that had BigB reminded how good friends they used to be. He did like Martyn, after all, they were still on good terms despite the little dance of ex-boyfriend and new guy, “But Ren is out doing something else.”

And he was glad he wasn’t questioning him about Ren’s whereabouts too much because he wasn’t supposed to disclose that he was off stealing cows.

“Oh,” BigB laughed, catching his drift just as he explained,

“You’re the boss man.”

“Ooh,” BigB took a few steps closer, putting a hand on Martyn’s shoulder as he muttered, “Don’t tell him. But you know.”

“Yeahhh,” Martyn grinned, following BigB as he walked past him and the two of them fell into familiarity a little more. They made their way toward the ladder to go upstairs but BigB turned around as they got their.

“I run this place!” he dragged his voice out exaggeratedly, pulling ridiculous pose that vaguely resembled Ren’s theatrics and made the both of them burst out laughing, the tension easing for a moment.

“This is my house!” Martyn continued the joke as BigB chuckled incessantly and the two of them clambered up the ladder, “You see this box, all four walls, they mine.”

“Exactly,” BigB scoffed, turning around to Martyn with a beaming grin as they reached the top layer, “Then Ren comes to the door and I’m like, ‘oh hey, hey Ren,” he laughed, drawing himself into an exaggeratedly timid demeanour.

Martyn threw his head back laughing, “We were just talking about youuuuu! We were just saying how this place is yours!”

It felt oddly nice to have someone to understand all of that. Maybe the two of them were in the same boat. But maybe it didn’t have to be a jealousy thing. Maybe it could just be solidarity, the start of a great friendship.

Martyn's eyes hardly skimmed the room and he saw a small bed in the corner. Just the one. The thought made his stomach turn and he tried to swallow down the horrible jealousy  ruining this moment for him. He was happy Ren and BigB were happy together. He repeated it to himself until he believed it, making for the window and staring out at the world. It was a pretty good view from up on the hill and he really did need to get his bearings a bit more.

He almost immediately noticed Jimmy, all fluttering feathers and a foolish grin, accompanied by Ren with his usual self-assured swagger and shit spacial awareness. The two of them were leading a pair of disgruntled looking cows toward the box.

“Hello ello!” he called and Jimmy gave him a little salute wave, fairly distracted by the cows. Ren didn’t seem to notice his presence, watchful eye on his cattle as he yelled excitedly, “Yo BigB! Look- look what I did! I did a good, I did a good!”

BigB rushed to the side entrance gushing, “Let’s gooo,” and Martyn followed him.

“Hell yeah baby!” Ren grinned, wrapping an arm around his soulmates waist as soon as he saw him, pulling him closer and sighing, “We unfortunately have to give our goats up though.”

For a moment, he was tunnel vision on BigB, standing there grinning like an idiot. Jimmy felt a little uncomfortable, standing there holding the cows while the two of them made sycophantic love eyes at each other. He tried to exchange a glance with Martyn but he was just leaning against the wall, staring dejectedly at the floor like it had personally wronged him.

Ren noticed Martyn over his soulmate’s shoulder and froze, faltering just for a moment before untangling himself from BigB and taking the leads of the cows off Jimmy who gave him a tight-lipped smile.

“Hey Martyn!” he called to the other man who glanced up and gave an equally hesitant smile. What was the deal with that? “What’s up baby, what’s up?”

When Martyn had first met Ren, it had made him blush when he called him baby. Now, he knew it meant far more when Ren didn’t call you baby and it was just another unfortunate reminder that he was deep in the friendzone.

“Heyyyy!” he returned as enthusiastically as he could muster, pushing himself off the wall and plunging his hands into his pockets, “I just came looking for you guys.”

He felt some need to explain his presence. He needed them to know he wasn’t the type of ex to just turn up unannounced and try to homewreck anything. Maybe they could put a good word in with Cleo for him.

“Oh dude, what’s up, what’s up?” Ren frowned, watching as Jimmy made off toward the goats and turning back to BigB with a sigh, “Hold on, can- can you help me get these cows in?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Martyn muttered, unsure who Ren was talking to but self consciously thinking it might be him for a second.

“And then we can, we can parlez.”

Okay, he was definitely talking to him now? Did he want his help with the cows? Better safe than sorry, right? He grabbed out his pickaxe, muttering, “Yeah, lemme open a hole.”

BigB quietly took the cows leads and began taking them up the stairs, quickly realising that was gonna be easier said than done.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna help,” Ren sighed, putting a hand on Martyn’s arm to lower the pickaxe and fixing him with the pointed look. BigB tried to ignore the flare of anger and jealousy and all that horrid stuff. He liked Martyn, he respected Martyn. He trusted Ren.

“It’s alright,” Martyn shrugged, apparently in response to Ren’s look, “I’ve already spoken to the big man,” he gestured at BigB, shooting him a wink, “he- he said he didn’t have what I was looking for.”

“Yeah,” BigB nodded in confirmation but Ren still frowned, gaze falling back to Martyn, “What were you looking for?”

He really wasn’t the man of this house, was he? BigB thought miserably. Not that he’d ever thought he was but…

“I was- I was looking for some carrots.”

“Erm, hold on, hold on.”

Ren started digging in his pack, chucking out things all over the floor. Martyn shot BigB an evil smirk and he glared warningly. Then they both turned back to Ren as he stood.

“but BigB said that this was his house,” Martyn said nonchalantly, leaning against the wall again in his nonchalant demeanour, “And he made the box and you’re just living in it.”

“Come on now, dude,” he gave Ren a ‘this guy’ kind of smile, “I never- I never said that.”

Which was technically true. He’d never said he made the box. He’d never said Ren was just living in it. Martyn was wildly exaggerating. But he wasn’t about to tell Ren what he did say either.

Ren just gave BigB an ‘yeah, I know’ kind of look and turned to Martyn with a bored, almost exasperated look. But, committed as ever, he continued rambling.

“He said you’re more of a cat than a dog, he said if it fits, it sits.”

Which from someone who’d shared a house with Ren for several months, was speaking from experience. But BigB wouldn’t know that so it was just a moment between him, raising an eyebrow and Ren, rolling his eyes while a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Martyn,” he muttered, as serious as he could muster. He really needed to speak to Martyn, given…well given everything. BigB and whoever Martyn’s soulmate was and the fact that he was here, making jokes only they would get. He needed him to understand.

“I- look, look,” BigB stammered from the stairs.

Martyn was still rambling and Ren wished he’d just shut up now. “He really spoke down about you to be honest.”

“Martyn!”

That finally got the other man’s attention and he glanced up, meeting Ren’s stony, imploring gaze, “Come with me. We need to talk.”

He turned and swept away, heading toward the stairs where BigB quickly pretended he wasn’t watching and hurried the cows inside, muttering “this is terrible,” to himself. Just when he thought he was gonna be happy with his soulmate. Martyn was left standing there with his mouth a little agape but quickly shut it and made after Ren, coughing away his feelings and straightening his shoulders. Act professional. You’re here to trade. Come on.

It was a resolve that very quickly faded and a façade that very quickly deteriorated.

“Things are getting serious here at Box.”

“Let’s go Mr Goat!” Jimmy called enthusiastically to the pair following him, unable to stop the grin burning his cheeks, “Let’s go Mr Goat.”

Mr and Mr Goat. For Mr and Mr Rancher.

Actually, he did hope one of them was a female. The aim was to breed them after all. How could you tell the gender of a goat? One had smaller horns, did that mean it was a female or just an unfortunate male?

“Hello Jimmy.”

Usually those words, in that voice with that accent in that tone would have had him quaking in his boots or at least a little apprehensive. Today, nothing could put a dampener on his mood. He had goats!

“Hello!” he turned around to see Scott sitting in a nearby tree with his legs folded and a sinisterly flirty grin on his face.

“What you doin?”

Void, what was he doing? Hadn’t they agreed it was over between the two of them. Hadn’t it been fairly obvious it had been for a while? Or maybe he just genuinely confused as to what Jimmy was doing with his goats…you never knew.

“Oh, I’ve made a deal.” Or maybe he just wanted to try to stop him from getting a goat horn. He’d been all for that, hadn’t he? He was certainly one of the main people mocking him the past week that he didn’t have a horn, “I’ve already made a deal.”

“With who for what?”

That was the problem, Scott was always so calm and self-assured, eloquent where Jimmy was stammering and losing it.

“Um, three cows for two goat with uh- Ren. And uh- BigB.”

Scott said nothing for a few moments, flickering his eyes closed and then giving Jimmy the ‘seriously?’ look, immediately followed by the ‘oh my god you’re such an idiot’ look.

“They aren’t their goats Jimmy.”

He frowned, running the hand that wasn’t holding their leads agitatedly through his hair. He’d traded for them from Ren. He’d given them to him. How were they not his?

“They are! They’re- what?” what was Scott even saying? “They are!”

“They’re not!” He laughed, shaking his head exasperatedly.

“They literally are!” Jimmy threw his hands up as far as the leads would let him, frustration gathering in his temples.

“They’re not,” Scott scoffed, waving his hand around lazily in his assured pontification, “They’re not penned in.”

“Yeah, but they were around their base.”

Who else’s fricking goats would they be? Surely Scott didn’t think they were his goats. They were definitely up on BigB and Ren’s mountain. This had nothing to do with Scott, he should just piss off and mind his own business.

“That doesn’t mean it’s theirs!”

“They’re nowhere near yours!”

Scott wasn’t trying to claim ownership over the goats. He didn’t need them, he had his horn. He was a little confused why Jimmy thought he was trying to claim they were his. He was just trying to explain to the fool in front of him that he’d been thoroughly scammed. But now he was confused because what did he mean nowhere near??

“Wait, Jimmy mine was right there!”

He knew he didn’t have a great sense of direction but you could literally see his house from Ren and BigB’s.

“Nah,” Jimmy shrugged, dismissing the confusing conversation and turning away, tugging at the leads, “These are mine. These are my goats!”

Scott jumped down from his tree and made his way over, practically strutting with that sinister grin back. Jimmy caught the flash of sun on metal and turned to see Scott waving his knife around with a lazy wrist, “What if I kill them?”

No. Surely he wouldn’t. Even Scott wouldn’t be that needlessly petty. They didn’t have any beef. The two of them were on good terms! For voids sake! He was joking. Right? He had to be.

“Dude I- I don’t think I would ever forgive you this season.” He shook his head, pulling his goats along further and fixing Scott with what he hoped was a menacing glare, “It’d be like, ‘why haven’t Scott and Jimmy spoken since the first weeks?’”

Scott just laughed manically, tucking hair behind his ear with the hand holding the knife and raising his eyebrows at him, “It’s very tempting Jimmy.”

“I’ve made the deal!” he yelled, turning away again, satisfied he wasn’t about to start stabbing. Scott was enjoying teasing, that’s all it was. And Jimmy wanted no part of it. He wanted to go home to Tango. It wasn’t his problem that Scott didn’t have a soulmate or whatever. “My- my print is on them. Sorry.”

But Scott was still laughing, following after with a little skip in his step, “It’s so tempting. What if I just kill one?”

“No!” Jimmy yelled, really wishing Scott would just leave him be now, “I need these both! I’ve made the deal! I’ve already paid the price!”

Scott tried to ignore that that was exactly how he started this conversation, saying that Jimmy didn’t need to have paid the price but a little indignance crept in. He knew, really, he knew this was probably not a good idea, to be hanging around Jimmy, teasing and smirking and tucking his hair behind his ear like a goddamn fool when Jimmy had a soulmate he was actively going home to. Scott had been trying to ignore him, trying to act like there was nothing between them and this? This was just about the exact opposite of that. But it hurt to try to move on from Jimmy, it was so much effort to shut down his feelings every time they came rushing up. It was so much easier to just let himself crush like a schoolboy and flirt and tease and laugh.

Until it wasn’t.

“You didn’t make a deal with me, Jimmy.”

He wasn’t Ren and BigB. If he wanted to kill these goats he just so happened to see, that had nothing to do with any deal Tim may or may not have made. He could do whatever he pleased.

“I didn’t make the deal with you,” Jimmy agreed, exasperated and confused. “They’re not your goats!” Why was Scott acting like he’d robbed him? He hadn’t. They were Ren and BigB’s goddamn goats.

“That’s what I’m saying!” Scott insisted, letting himself get angry all over again and immediately trying to calm.

“They’re mine!” Jimmy yelled, at least quadrupling his volume, “They were theirs!” But Scott had never been frightened by Jimmy’s yelling, it was always either defensive, frustrated or borderline breakdown. He wasn’t sure which of his three moods he was in right now. Probably a little bit of all of them mixed in together.

Scott just shrugged, deciding to see how far he could push Jimmy. Because he was done flirting and now he just wanted to be mean.

Jimmy noticed Scott’s knife moving sharply in the corner of his eye and whipped around, heart panicking, only to see it slice through the rope and then the other one, effectively severing the leads. He yelled incoherently and Scott just shrugged, tucking the knife back into his belt. Jimmy knelt to retie the leads, muttering, “Come on goats.” Then suddenly one of them stepped on his leg and he groaned, grabbing at it as the two of them trotted away. He clambered to his feet, turning to see-

Void, Scott, really?

He’d grabbed an apple from his pack and was hoisting it aloft so that the goats crowded around him, bleating frustratedly and biting at the apple just out of reach.

Jimmy glared. Scott smirked.

“Goats, ignore him,” he yelled, running toward Scott who sidestepped him and made him trip over the goats, slamming face first into the ground. “ignore him,” he mumbled into the dirt before scrabbling to his feet again to see Scott, breathless laughing.

How had he married him?

“Goats ignore him! He yelled again, giving up on Scott and just trying to tie the goats leads. But Scott kept sidestepping just a little so they trotted off and he fell over or got knocked out of the way and definitely couldn’t sit still enough to get a knot tied. He was practically crying at this point, yelling with frustration every five seconds, “I know you’re divorced but you don’t need to do this!” he yelled at Scott who just rolled his eyes, smirking still and moving a lot so that the goat bashed into Jimmy. “ignore him!” he screamed again like this time, this time, they might listen. Void, why did everything hate him this season. This season, void all the seasons. Ever. His goddamn life hated him. “GOATS! IGNORE HIM!”

“This is more funny than it should be,” Scott wheezed out through relentlessly cruel laughter.

“Goats,” Jimmy sobbed, pressing his palms into his eyes as if seeing stars might let him pray to them for some god somewhere to favour him. Why did he care so much about this stupid goat horn. Why was everyone else so determined to torture him over it, “Come on. Come on.”

Scott sighed, letting his hand with the apple fall and one of the goats munch it up immediately. It wasn’t fun when Jimmy was crying.

“I’m sorry Jimmy,” he muttered, unable to keep the bite out of his voice.

The other man just stood up straighter, grabbing his sword from his belt in a swift movement and closing the gap between him and Scott, scoffing, “Right,” and struck him clean across the face, making him stumble backwards and leaving a thin line of blood.

Scott gasped, clutching a hand to his face and another to his sword just on instinct. He glared at Jimmy and snapped, “Did you just hit me Jimmy?”

Oh come off it, Jimmy thought bitterly as he tucked his sword back into his belt and grabbed the leads, retying the goats, like Scott hadn’t been making goats trample him for the past few minutes.

“Your soulmates not gonna like that,” he cooed, smiling a little to himself that he’d gotten his edge back. Scott just wiped the blood on his sleeve, tutting angrily to himself.

“Hey Tim- Tim, Tim!”

“Hello? Yeah?” he glanced up to find the source of the noise and almost immediately felt his heart drop when he saw Grian up a hill a few metres away.

Oh just what he needed right now. His brother to show up, beaming with that evil glint in his eye and his goat horn in hand.

“Tim,” he blew the horn and cackled to himself which made Scott join in and Jimmy was right back to wanting to punch them both and jump into the ravine.

“Grian, we can’t let him get goats!” Scott gestured desperately to the goats, now fully retied to their leads.

“Stop!!” he practically shrieked, grabbing his hair with both hands, frustrated enough to literally rip it out but instead just tugging it until it hurt and screaming, “I’ve made a deal!”

“Grian he’s tryna take these two goats,” Scott cried, grabbing the leads out of Jimmy’s hands without him even noticing he was beside him.

No. Enough of this. Enough. He was too close to be stopped by Scott making his bottled up feelings his problem. Absolutely not.

“You!” he yelled pushing Scott angrily away and yanking the leads from his hands, no regard for his safety, letting him tumble into the undergrowth. “I’ve made a deal!” he screamed for what must’ve been the hundredth time in this conversation, “I’ve already done the deal! I’ve traded my cows! And I’ve got! My! Goats!”

Scott made forward but Grian just put a steadying hand on his shoulder, pulling him back with a calm assured smile. Jimmy felt his heart sink. Scott’s desperation suggested he was close to actually getting a horn. Grian’s calmness suggested he was nowhere near.

“He doesn’t know how it works. Just let him.”

Jimmy clenched his fists tightly around the leads, “I do,” he snapped indignantly through gritted teeth.

“Alright then,” Grian shrugged, smirking knowingly. Void, he hated that smirk.

“Cos I’ve got a secret weapon!” he yelled and then paused, letting them both wait for a few seconds with raised eyebrows and confused frowns, “A boyfriend who knows stuff!”

He laughed victoriously, finally making away with his goats, “Tango will know how to do this,” he called confidently over his shoulder.

“You know you need to take them to a mountain biome right?” Grian called nonchalantly.

Jimmy turned, all his confidence undermined in one moment, when he saw Grian looked perfectly serious, one arm leaning on Scott’s shoulder and both of them looking down at him, and not just because they were on a hill, with self-satisfied smirks, “What?”

They both laughed cruelly, turning to each other with a ‘this guy’ kind of a look.

“Wait, you’re not- you’re not serious are you?” he called after them as they turned to head off in their separate directions.

“Byeee!”

“What?”

“Bye Jimmy!”

The hazy afternoon sunlight was quickly fading into chilly dusk, sun lingering on the horizon casting long shadows in the trees. The temperature was dropping fast and Pearl was quietly preparing for it to plummet once the last of the sun slipped below the horizon. The noises of the forest around her was generally quieting, leaving a calming silence in its wake. She knew it was only so long before the noises were replaced by far more sinister ones, but so long as the sun took its time with the horizon, she’d be okay.

She didn’t think she could face the starry sky just yet.

She’d spent all day walking along in a sort of mindless haze. She’d been keeping her eyes peeled for any kind of a dog anywhere but she was so alert, she’d started seeing them slinking behind trees and in the undergrowth when they weren’t actually at all. One moment they were there, crystal clear in the corner of her eye and the next, there was nothing, just the grass and the lonely trees, with nothing but the whistle of the wind to call company.

Though she was sure she wasn’t imagining the bright green light of someone’s soulbind, beaming through the bush. She bounded toward them, grinning as she saw Scar’s messy brown hair, blending in with the bark. “Scar?” she called excitedly, thrilled at the possibility of company.

Scar gave a terrified yelp, jumping and brandishing his cane aggressively at thin air, glancing around his little clearing for the source of the noise. “Oh! oh my gosh,” he held a hand to his heart as he realised the sound was Pearl’s voice and took several steadying breaths. “Pearl where are you? Come here for a second.”

“I’m up here,” Pearl called from the hill, scanning for a safe route down to Scar through the prickly undergrowth. She settled for just jumping across it to the clearing, though her legs buckled a bit upon landing, she thought Scott could probably handle it.

“You scared the living scars out of me,” he shook his head with a laugh and a grin, “And I somehow dropped my axe.”

He gestured to it on the ground but made no effort to go pick it up, leaning against a tree with a yawn. Pearl quietly thought that probably would have made a better weapon than his cane if she was a zombie in the dusk.

She frowned, bending to pick up the axe and offering it to him with the gentlest smile she could manage, though even on her face it felt slightly manic, “I just said hi,” she said quietly, voice still on the edge of tears, “I wasn’t that scary.”

Scar accepted the axe, sliding it back into his belt but widening his eyes at her and shaking his head, muttering, “It was horrifying.”

“It’s my red cloak,” she sighed, sweeping it underneath her as she sat down on a fallen log. There were lots around, it seemed as though Scar had been chopping trees. “Just makes me immediately scary.”

“Yeah I was-” Scar laughed, turning to one of the fallen logs and confirming Pearl’s suspicion by grabbing out his axe again and rather half heartedly hacking at the wood, “You know you freaked me out earlier when I was going up the- up the shoot I really had some second thoughts when I saw the red cloak.”

Pearl grinned, leaning back on the log, she wasn’t sure if being scary was the intention, but she found she didn’t mind it as an unintended consequence if it meant people left her alone. “Nah, it’s okay,” she laughed, “I’m not murderous for you. Just Scott.”

“Ohhh, just Scott.” Scar gave up on the axe, chucking it to the floor and sitting down on the log, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he stared into the middle of the clearing. Pearl vaguely thought it would make a nice spot for a fire.

“You know, they have a bridge.” He looked up at her after a few moments, finally dragged out of his thoughts and grinning in a way that excited Pearl for murder, “I think you should trap their bridge.”

Pearl gasped, nodding enthusiastically and sitting forward on her log with a giddy grin, “Ooh! You have a good idea, okay, okay.”

“Somehow,” Scar gestured around the clearing with his cane, his manic grin matching hers spreading quickly and she could practically see the cogs turning in his brain, “you need to trap that bridge so that he falls to his death.”

Pearl snickered at how quickly Scar went crazy and just a little too red mania given neither of them were actually red yet, “But then I die as well,” she shook her head, settling on a decision she hadn’t known she’d already made, “I just wanna hurt him, I don’t wanna kill him.

“Ohhhh. Pearl,” Scar nodded and then suddenly gasped, sitting up very straight and slowly grinning, his demeanour taking a more sinister turn as he announced, “I have an idea.” In far too creepy a voice for it to be anything good.

“Yes. I’m curious.”

Because they were talking about sinister things after all. What was a little bit more creep right now?

“You make, a torture room.” Still with that manic grin and even Pearl watched him agape for a moment and she thought she might just do anything to piss off Scott at this point.

“That-” But even after everything that had happened in the past week, she wasn’t sure she was quite ready to start actively building herself a room to torture both her and Scott in. She wasn’t that unhinged. “I’m concerned about you Scar.”

Because no-one had even broken up with him. Well, yet. This was just raw, unfiltered Scar. Terrifying.

She turned away, looking wistfully into the distance as the night fell over them. The light from their torches wouldn’t be enough to keep monsters away. They’d have to start moving soon.

“If you don’t do it,” Scar was still on, “I’m gonna make a torture room.” He jumped to his feet, holding up his hand in a ‘d’ya see the vision’ kind of gesture, grinning into the middle distance, “So, idea okay. You get a cactus, you get some lava. You get a few things and maybe some safety precautions, maybe some water to the side, hwy and you can even drown in the water!” He was getting way too excited about this for such a morbid idea, all pacing and gesturing and clapping his hands. “So just do things to kind of like knock yourself down, almost to death and then you bring yourself back. Oh!” he pumped a thrilled fist in the air, beaming at Pearl, “Oh its such- this is a genius idea.”

Then he paused, eyes widening in yet another revelation apparently, “You could sell tickets.”

Pearl thought she’d been keeping it together commendably well through his whole weird demonstration. But she couldn’t help but burst out laughing at that. “Tickets?? To watch the show?”

“Well- that-” Scar frowned but it quickly twisted into a grin, “Hey! You’ve got the right mind there Pearl.” He shrugged, going back to sit on his log “I was thinking no, if you wanna take part in some of the torturing activities you could pay but I’m sure it would be a decent show so…” he didn’t finish his sentence, watching the middle distance with an odd sort of smile, “Oh Pearl. Just a wonderful mind you have.”

She wasn’t so sure about that. She was only trying to think how Scar would think to make profit off divorce and torture. Which seemed a uniquely Scar line of thinking in the first place.

“The only thing is,” Pearl offered, trying to pull him out of his thoughts, “um, I don’t think we have cactus. In this world uh and do we have any berry bushes anywhere? You know, the really prickly ones? Cos I was actually looking for some of those at one point.”

Scar sighed, shaking his head, “Noo, I’ve looked for those too.”

“Aww,” Pearl groaned, pouting at the ground like a sullen dog. The thought of a dog made her remember why she was out here in the first place and brought frustrated tears to her eyes. How had she gotten distracted from Tilly?

The two of them were both swiftly realising how similar their situations were, and- well their mindset in dealing with it. Pearl supposed she was in the exact same situation as Martyn, but he was off doing his own thing, probably not torturing his soulmate and either way, not talking to her.

“But!” Scar looked up with a grin before jumping to his feet again and pointing a waggling finger at her, “You by chance don’t happen to have a bucket do you?”

She frowned, watching that evil grin on his face that even from her fairly limited experience of the man, never meant good things. “I do have a bucket.”

Scar gasped, taking a few steps toward her and clasping his hands together, fixing her with a pleading look, “Can I borrow said bucket I promise I’ll give it ba-ack!”

He waggled his eyebrows in offering and Pearl couldn’t help but laugh, “Uhh, it’s got water in it at the moment,” Given how high up in the sky she lived, she’d like to keep her water bucket for emergencies and she didn’t trust Scar to bring it back. “I can give you a fresh new one. I have so much iron.”

Scar was practically jumping for joy now, his evil smile catching into manic energy. “What would you trade for some iron and a bucket?” he raised his eyebrow as his hands fidgeted restlessly with his soulbind. Pearl glanced at it, vaguely wondering if his soulmate could feel that.

“Honestly, I don’t mind. I’ll give it to you for free if you help me mess with Scott.”

Scar looked surprised, faltering a little but quickly recovering, drawing himself up to full height as she stood from her log. She was still taller than him. He bounced after her like an excited puppy as she made her way to the base of her tower.

“Oh for sure, sure, I’m gonna give you something that will be…hilarious.”

The two of them stopped at Pearl’s newly installed ladder and she raised an eyebrow at him, silently questioning if he was following her up.

“Oh Pearl,” he gushed, grinning ear to ear, “Okay, go get that,” he sighed, turning away and letting his posture slump as he continued far more dejectedly, “I’m gonna continue to do chores for Grian. And I’m- I’ve got…oh man.” He made off into the woods, still calling over his shoulder, “This is gonna be good. Good, good. Get that- get that bucket!”

He went too far for her to be able to hear and she shrugged, starting up the ladder. It really was nice to have company, even if it was mildly insane company. She supposed she was a little bit mildly insane right now to be on board with his scary scheme. But she just wanted Scott to hurt like she did. Was that so bad?

Martyn found himself wandering along the edge of a ravine. As night fell, he’d followed the light into and now out of the forest. Half the light sources had been pits of lava and not anyone's house at all. But now, along the edge of the ravine, it was house after house every couple metres felt like. It sort of went at a diagonal between world borders and had a nice border right through the middle, he could see why it was an appealing location.

But given how many people had settled there, was it really that safe? He wasn’t sure but he was glad to find civilisation.

The grass he was walking in was an incredibly bright and luscious shade of green, contrasting vibrantly with the dark reddish bark of the trees, leaves drooping and vines growing up everything. He was just thinking it wouldn’t be a bad place to settle and decided to check out who his neighbours were, fishing out his spyglass. Which was how he saw Cleo across the way, walking quickly from a quaint little house on the side of the ravine onto the bridge across it. It was a nice bridge, he appreciated it but at the same time, he wanted to burn it down. Because it went across the ravine to another quaint little cottage where he spotted the flaming beacon of bright blue hair that was his soulmates soulmate.

He was surprised to find himself rife with anger. He had sort of convinced himself throughout the week that he didn’t care, detached himself from the whole situation. But staring at Scott who offered Cleo a friendly wave which she returned, both smiling amiably, Martyn felt sick. He hated that he felt sick because there really was no reason to care so much but, but really, it was such a visceral reaction.

But for now, he figured he’d keep his distance from Cleo. They were very quick to swear him off but at the same time, he didn’t survive if she didn’t survive. Maybe that was where the visceral hate for them abandoning him came from. He wasn’t sure, but either way. He was gonna keep a watch from a distance. She seemed safe. She seemed happy. She seemed healthy. They might have said some hurtful things but he didn’t think that was them speaking. He glanced back over at Scott, that ill feeling returning. Cleo was just regurgitating what that fella was saying. He was all about friendship and building little cottages and flowers and all that rubbish. Martyn had been out in the nether, trying to get them the most powerful items to get them the most sustainability and protection in the long run. Void, she was still working out of a single furnace even though she had a giant home.

Take it inside! Look, he’s ruining you!

They may be bound to him but they were also physically bound to him by base!

He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit. But he decided to wait till they’d parted ways to do anything else. He wanted to speak to Cleo alone, just her words and not Scott speaking through her.

He had other neighbours too though, that weren’t his cheating soulmate. He figured he should probably go see. It certainly wasn’t anyone who knew how to build, what the hell was that?

He went up to the rather haphazard cobblestone wall and grinned when he saw Jimmy, as neighbours went, he was on the lower end of the ‘would they burn my house down’ spectrum. Tango, on the other hand, who he could see doing something with goats further in, well, the man literally had fire hair for fucks sake.

Still, he wouldn’t be around for too long given his soulmate and all.

“Ello!” Jimmy waved him over and he trudged miserably up the hill. He’d left his pack where he intended to build his house and at this point, he found it hard to care that a pack of wild wolves could ram sack it or whatever. He was tired and he needed to not be carrying it anymore.

“Alright there lad, alright?” Martyn immediately matched the silly voice he was putting on, more force of habit than a conscious decision.

“Welcome-” Jimmy glanced behind him at Tango and spread his arms wide, “Welcome to the ranch!”

“Welcome to-” Martyn frowned, glancing around with building scepticism. Ranches were sposed to have livestock of some description weren’t they? “Is this the ranch, is it?”

“This is the ranch.”

Jimmy threw his hands up as Martyn clambered over the wall, completely ignoring the gate just a little further up.

Tango came bounding over with a grin and an arm around Jimmy’s shoulder, cheering, “Team ranch!”

“Jeez.” Martyn clicked his tongue, peering around the two of them to check he wasn’t missing something. He thought he’d seen goats before but there weren’t any now. Either they really didn’t know what a ranch was, or he was missing some joke. “Does it stand for anything.”

“It stands for…” Jimmy started confidently but very quickly faltered, “ranch.”

“It stands for ranch,” Tango repeated with a laugh, gazing endearingly at his soulbound. Martyn might have rolled his eyes if he weren’t so distracted by the fact that they were definitely hiding something, probably animals. But really poorly.

“Stands for Really Are No Cows Here.”

Tango didn’t kiss Jimmy very often. Not compared to the way he remembered Scott kissing him constantly, almost every time he saw him felt like. Tango was more of an affectionate hand squeeze kind of a guy from what he’d noticed so far. A compliments rather than affectionate insults kind of a guy.

Jimmy could get used to that, he’d decided.

But tonight was an exception. Tango had already taken his goat back to the ranch and was heading out to help Jimmy with the two he was leading because he’d been getting hassled by Scott last time he saw. He seemed fine now, turning around calling, “Where are you?” before seeing him and smiling such a genuinely relieved little smile, muttering, “There you are, there you are.” And then beaming and gesturing to his leads, “I’ve got two! I found two!”

“I see that!” Tango cheered, running up to him, “It’s amazing,” he wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him closer, pressing a soft kiss against his cold lips. Jimmy froze but then grinned, laughing nervously. “We should probably not do this in the middle of the night,” he muttered, glancing about. Tango cleared his throat and laughed, stepping back and nodding overly enthusiastically, “yeah, yeah, yeah. Right. Sorry, I just- Oh! We’ve got goats!”

“Team rancher!”

“Team rancher!”

They’d put the whole fricking family of goats they now had in the house for now. Others might have worried about the smell but team rancher had been sleeping right next to a cow farm for almost a week now. Though they did quickly realise they’d need to move them outside. Partially because they broke things and partly because in order to get them to naturally lose their horns, they needed to have a decent run up before hitting a wall and their house was not that big.

For the evening however, they just left them in the house and got about their business, building their wall and farming their crops with the day they had left, somewhat putting off going to bed because they didn’t know where to sleep if the goats were in their house. But neither really had a solution so they were just procrastinating for now.

Jimmy was excited when he saw Martyn because he hadn’t been seen for almost a week now and he wanted to know what was going on with him.

However, Tango and him still hadn’t spoken about how glaringly their ranch branding clashed with their plan to hide their animals, which lead to the trainwreck of a conversation that followed.

“Wait, where’s your soulmate?” Jimmy asked when Martyn had thoroughly mocked them for their lack of livestock and Tango had gone back inside to deal with the goats who were trying to ram down the door.

“Oh,” Martyn clicked his tongue as he scanned the distance,  “Right over…there!”

He pointed Cleo out, doing more construction on their bridge.

“Wait,” Jim frowned, honestly not sure whether or not he should bring up Martyn and Cleo’s uh…situation, “Isn’t your soulmate?” He raised an eyebrow at Martyn, hoping he’d get it but he was still watching Cleo in the distance so he blundered on, “Doing soulmate things, with another person.”

Right. That was a mess of a sentence, well done.

“Yeeep!” Martyn sighed, shaking his head and kicking at the dirt like an angry horse. “I’m being cheated on!” He yelled in an oddly cheery tone. “They thought I was cheating and then they went and cheated but actually I never did cheat so actually…they’re the cheaters."

Jimmy nodded and hummed, not really wanting to engage in whatever weirdness was going on but sensing Martyn’s need to rant even before he went off again, “Look at them building their happy little home and ‘ooh I’m in love with Scott’ and ‘ooh I’m in love with Cleo' and we’re best friends! And we have flowers in our hair! And we build brides and stuff like that! When is she gonna think about mending our bridges?”

Martyn looked at Jimmy, but he doubt he actually saw him. He stood there for a few moments just opening his mouth and closing it again, having no idea how to approach that angry, bitter rant. Until he knew exactly how.

“Bro, I reckon you build like a little bridge connecting to them somewhere.”

Martyn nodded thoughtfully, grinning. Screw his house plans that was way better! “I’m gonna build from just outside the ranch so it’s not mistaken as being you but it’s gonna be me.”

Jimmy didn’t really understand what he was saying and he wasn’t sure Martyn really understood what he was saying, “Yeah you build like a tiny house and build like a third bridge like connecting it in like a random point,” he gestured into the distance, trying to show him his vision.

“Mhm,” Martyn nodded, standing up straight as if his shoulders weren’t aching.

“And I think that would be great.”

“Okay.” Martyn was set on this now. Who would have thought, Jimmy with the genius plans.

“It might be a bit of an eyesore for you I apologise,” he laughed, climbing back over the ranch wall as Jimmy started spluttering and staring.

“Wait, wait don’t do it real close.”

“I told you I was gonna do it on this side of the wall,” Martyn shrugged, gesturing at where he was standing, right next to said wall, close enough to touch it.

“Yeah but in the middle right? Not like right on it, right?” He had no confidence Martyn had the intention to do any of that, he just wanted to make his expectations clear so at least Martyn would know he was being a prick.

“I’m gonna do it from,” he paused, realising he didn’t have his pack and settling for grabbing a stray piece of wood from the wall construction and placing it down right next to it. “here, is that good?”

“No!” Jimmy cried, leaning over the wall to grab the wood back, “Martyn! Martyn this is-!” he swore loudly as he managed to get himself caught on the wall but unhooked his shirt from the nail it was caught on and stood with all the confidence he could muster, yelling, “That is ranch land!”

“What kind of therapist are you that you’re stopping me from building bridges with people?” Martyn yelled though Jimmy didn’t remember agreeing to be his therapist. Had Martyn gone mad on his own in a cave for a week? Was that what had happened here?

“That is-” Jimmy started but Martyn start yelling again and he just gave up, groaning and putting his head in his hands.

“I’m paying you good money per hour for this and you’re just giving me the worst advice ever!”

He’d lost it. Whatever. Jimmy would just come and take his bridge down once he connected it or went somewhere else. Whichever happened first.

“How dare you,” he called half-heartedly but just made away to the house, rubbing his eyes blearily. So Martyn was back and defacing their property. He heard bleating form inside and couldn’t help but grin. At least they had goats.

Him and Tango slept that night in the cave underneath their house near their chicken hole. The noise was atrocious but at least they didn’t get trampled in the night. So you know, there was that.

Martyn didn’t sleep. Again. Despite his delirious exhaustion. He spent all night constructing his house. He’d aimed for a heart shape and wasn’t entirely sure how successfully. He spent most of the night just getting a bridge out from the ranch he was sure Jimmy would tear down in the morning and the foundations that had to be dug into the riverbed. It was almost one am before he made any real progress and even by about midmorning the next day, he still only had scaffolded walls and foundations going on. And no roof. He was very glad it didn’t rain.

It was still small, but it was enough. Just like him. And if Cleo couldn’t see that, then, you know what, he probably didn’t need her anyway. But for now, this, this was all he needed. Him and his heart. It was on the line now; he’d built a very non structurally sound bridge over toward her bridge and all she had to do was connect them together in order to say sorry. Because this was her fault currently. Absolutely, 100% without a doubt.

This was her fault.

“Cleo?” Scott called to his partner when at around eleven that night, he actually noticed the floating house in the middle of the ravine. He was pretty sure he knew who was responsible and even if it wasn’t her soulmate, he knew they’d still want to bitch about the house to him because by void, was it ugly.

“Oh jeez!” Cleo jumped, glancing up at him from their bridge. He was sitting on the half-finished roof of his house, and clearly they couldn’t see him from where they were. “Hi!”

Scott laughed, but was far too concerned to do small talk, “What’s the weird floating island thing with the- is that Martyn?” He gestured into the distance where it was sillhoutted against the dull blue light of the world border. Cleo turned, frowning so much it hurt her head, trying to work out what Scott was pointing at.

“Where?”

“Going up the water. The middle.” Scott called as he made his way carefully down from the roof, “Floating. In the middle. He’s going up the waterfall.”

Oh, void. Yup. She saw it now.

“That’s Martyn!” They groaned, putting their head in their hands and rubbing their eyes. Why? What god had cursed her with this idiot as her soulbound.

Her real soulmate bumped her shoulder reassuringly, reaching into his pocket for his communicator and smirking at them. “Martyn, you are dropping the property value of everyone in the area with that thing,” he read aloud over Cleo’s laughter and glanced up as he hit send to see if the madman would notice. Cleo hoped he’d look over at them, shoulder to shoulder and mocking him and get the memo.

IT'S A HEART! YOU’RE BEING REAL HEARTLESS RIGHT NOW

Cleo glanced over Scott’s shoulder at the message and gave a deep sigh, knowing they’d have to deal with him.

“What is he wearing?” Scott tutted.

BigB lingered in the corner of his own house, trying to wrangle cows into their pen and taking his sweet time about it because he had no idea what he was supposed to do once he didn’t have a way to keep busy. It was very clear that he was not a part of the conversation his soulmate was having with Martyn of all people but also just sort of leaving didn’t feel right. He was here and no-one was acknowledging his presence. But they’d acknowledge his absence. Wouldn’t they?

Any shred of denial BigB had been clinging to of ‘Martyn and Ren have moved on and hardly even talk now’ and ‘no I’m not jealous of Martyn, that would be ridiculous he’s not Ren’s soulmate’ had been torn into smaller, less salvageable shreds now that Martyn was here, and they were talking, and laughing and generally enjoying each other’s company. What was it he used to say to Etho?

Committing to the bit until they both lost all semblance of what the bit was in the first place.

“So um, so firstly,” Ren had said when Martyn first trailed after him inside and he’d whipped around to face him with a grin that could only be described as coy, “Can we talk about what you’re wearing?”

Martyn had frowned for a moment, before glancing down at himself and apparently being reminded of his truly hideous jumpsuit, “Uh oh sorry, you know,” he laughed, picking at the fabric and clicking his tongue, “This is my uh, only change of clothes that I had on me it’s not- not my first choice of clothing, certainly.”

“Oh,” Ren let out that endearing guffawing laugh of his, that BigB found ridiculously attractive. And Martyn probably before him, judging by the way he was smirking up at Ren. “Oh it’s glorious though,” he grinned, wandering past him and dragging a hand over his shoulder. BigB felt ill but Ren was still talking. “I love it. It’s brilliant. Um, secondly!” he whirled around, apparently distracted from whatever it was he was walking past Martyn for, turning back and taking several strides toward him, poking him in the shoulder to get his attention and nodding solemnly, “There’s many things on the agenda my friend.”

At which point BigB had just about decided he couldn’t handle any more of this and was going to throw himself out the window and take Ren with him, when the conversation took a sharp turn away from their skirting flirting and into negotiations about carrots. At first, he thought that was better. Maybe it was. But that was half the problem because now he was wondering if he’d built those moments up in his head. They were just acting like good friends now. Good friends that hadn’t seen each other properly in a good few months. Little more than strangers who’d known each other very well in a past life. What BigB had been hoping from the two of them, not what he’d been expecting. What he’d been expecting was the sort of blatant (had it been blatant?) flirting (had it been flirting?) between the two of them (or had it just been Martyn, or just Ren being Ren and being all touchy feely with everyone?). Void, he was so confused. He just wanted Martyn to leave so he could stop feeling like he was third wheeling in his own home and everything between him and Ren could make sense for a moment.

And now they were planning a trip to the deep dark together to get enchanted and BigB couldn’t bear it. There was absolutely no way he was letting Ren into the deep dark, by himself, with Martyn to go enchanting. Screw trust or whatever, he was inviting himself along. And now he was just leaning against the wall in the cow pen, trying to look like he was doing something while Martyn pretended to be on the phone with his mother, putting on an old lady voice while Ren flirted, okay that was definitely flirting, with Martyn’s mother. Which was just Martyn. Doing a bit.

Until they both lost all semblance of what the bit was in the first place.

Was that something friends did? He honestly wasn’t sure. He’d never, in his patchy memory, had a friend close enough to know.

“Did you receive the package of parsnips I sent?” Ren was calling loudly at Martyn’s ‘mother’. Did he even have a mother? Did any of them? It was one of those things that suddenly struck BigB with just how odd it was that he didn’t know. It made his skin crawl and he quickly dismissed the thought.

“I did,” Martyn croaked as his mother, “I told you a thousand times, I’m allergic.”

Ren paused for a moment and BigB wondered if he was faltering in the joke but then he muttered, “Oh yes,” with perfect comedic timing and Martyn snorted before pulling on the act again, only a little.

“This is why it never worked because you don’t listen!” With a pointed look at Ren. That was a pointed look, wasn’t it? BigB was sure it was, there was something in their gaze.

Stop it. Stop gazing.

He turned back to his cows and realised he needed a bit more wheat, taking every opportunity to dash upstairs to the farm and miss the rest of the weird joke.

It might have been funny if he weren’t so jealous.

It was a horrible, horrible feeling and probably a wrong one, too. If Ren were trying to be flirty, he wouldn’t do it so obviously in front of BigB. The two of them were happy together. Ren had told him he loved him too many times daily to count on one hand for the past week. He wouldn’t just turn around and start flirting with Martyn right in front of him, right? No, surely not. They were just doing some weird bro thing.

Surely.

“You sent sixteen boxes of parsnips?” Martyn was saying, back in his normal voice, as BigB clambered back down the ladder with the wheat.

“I,” Ren sighed, winking at BigB as he jumped to the floor and making his legs feel like jelly. Or was that the fall? “All I want is for the girl to like me, you know?” Ren kept his eyes on BigB as he wandered behind Martyn across the room, it was making his head feel hot and dizzy. Void, the affect Ren had on him.

“I’m trying so hard Martyn,” he sighed, leaning his back against the wall, not sounding like he was joking anymore, “I’m trying so hard.”

Martyn glanced at BigB too and then back at Ren with a shrug and a genuine smile. BigB knew they weren’t talking about Martyn’s imaginary mother anymore, but he wasn’t sure who they were talking about.

“That’s your problem right here,” Martyn scoffed, “she’s not a girl. She’s a woman. And you are acting like a boy. That’s the problem here.”

The two of them held furious eye contact for a few moments and then Ren laughed, that big guffaw.

“That’s the problem,” Martyn insisted, laughing now too, “She needs a real man!”

“Fair enough.” Ren bobbed his head, grinning up at BigB who tentatively returned it and then turning back to Martyn, jumping, clapping his hands and extending one of them in offering, “Here’s the deal, you get the carrots as long as you take me to the deep dark with you.”

Martyn shrugged like he  really couldn’t care less, “Right, okay.” He clapped Ren on the shoulder as he made past him, muttering something to him that BigB couldn’t hear that made Ren laugh and nod.

“We’ll say you later for the deep dark then,” he called after Martyn as he made for the door. The ‘we’ was not lost on BigB, who was confused why he was suddenly being included in these plans but not complaining.

“Okay, I’ll be back,” Martyn yelled over his shoulder, his boots loud down the stairs. And then he was gone and Ren was back right next to BigB with his arm wrapped around his waist, muttering something about horses.

Like Martyn had never been there at all.

Pearl made her way down the ladder with the bucket clutched in one hand, singing to herself, “I got a bucket, got a bucket full of sunshine, I got a bucket and I know that it’s all mine.”

Scar laughed from below, grinning maniacally, “Oh it’s gonna be the opposite of sunshine I’ll tell you that right now.”

Pearl raised an eyebrow sceptically at him but a smirk tugged at her lips. She was slightly scared as to what Scar had planned but she was happy to go along with it for now. Whatever went on. She was along for the ride.

“Here you go, Scar,” she handed him the bucket and his whole face lit up, snatching the bucket quickly without so much as making eye contact with her, staring unblinkingly at the bucket.

“Okay!” he made eye contact with her particularly to promise, “I will be right back!” and then turned and made off quickly in the opposite direction calling, “This is gonna blow your mind Pearl!”

Oh void, he was going way too fast. Slow down you lunatic!  She sighed and turned away, shaking her head exasperatedly. Sure enough, two seconds later there was a scream from behind her and Scar yelling, “There’s a hole down here! Oh my gosh!”

 She turned quickly, running toward him and yelling, “Scar!”

“I’m safe!” He yelled up at her as he clambered to his feet in a pit, bashing at the walls with his axe to make himself a way out. “It’s okay!”

But there’s was blood running down his leg and Pearl somewhat doubted his ability to climb out between the injury and his manic energy making everything worse as he made the pit crumble in on him.

“You can’t die on me,” she warned him, watching in a mixture of horror and awe as he somehow managed to get out of the hole, spitting out dirt and dragging himself up to stand. He flashed her a reassuring but also mildly horrifying smile.

“Doing my best not to!”

He made off again, at least slightly slower this time, pacing himself and being at least a bit cautious of the surroundings.

“Hello!” Pearl heard Ren’s cry through the forest. She turned away from where Scar was disappearing into the trees, making back towards her tower where she could see a few moving flickering lights through the trees.

“Uh, hi?”

“Hello?”

She ducked around a tree into the clearing Scar had made, with her the foot of her tower in the distance. Ren and BigB were on the other side, hardly out of the trees aboard horses. Ren glaring ahead with a sword in hand and BigB glancing straight down at his saddle looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“Hii,” she cooed, leaning against a tree with a smirk at the two of them. They were soulmates weren’t they?

“Pearl!” Ren boomed, drawing himself taller, “We have come to your rescue!” Pearl frowned, glancing around like she’d missed some life-threatening emergency they’d need to rescue her from. “We heard your calls of despair and we are here!” he gestured to himself and BigB who gave a tight-lipped smile, “The-” Ren glanced at him, as if looking for confirmation, “Horse…bros.” BigB gave an approving nod. Horse bros. That didn’t sound particularly romantic. Oh. Calls of despair. That was probably Scar.

“Oh I love your horses, they’re gorgeous.” Pearl gushed, wandering into the clearing with a self-assured swagger.

“Thank you! My horse is named Bee,” Ren patted his steed and then gestured to BigB’s beside him as Pearl murmured, “Bee.”

“And BigB’s named er-“ he glanced at his soulmate with raised eyebrows.

“Squirrel.”

BigB and Ren stared at each other for a few moments, Ren frowning and BigB just staring deadpan.

Ren turned back with the same deadpan tone of his soulmate, “Squirrel.”

“Bee and Squirrel,” Pearl cooed, “I like it!” she clasped her hands behind her back, leaning forward with an offering smile. She’d love to have a horse and if maybe she could swindle one off BigB and Ren. “They’re lovely!! Fantastic.”

Ren didn’t seem to catch her drift, nodding thoughtfully before leaning forward with a genuine frown, “Are you okay?”

Though it probably wasn’t really the question he was asking, it was a rather confronting question to Pearl right now. Was she okay? No, she wouldn’t say that. Physically, yes. It was Scar who had been ‘crying in despair’ as Ren so elegantly put it. But she wasn’t exactly having a peachy time of it.

“Yeah,” she tried, unable to keep the scepticism out of her voice, “I’m- I’m okay.” She sighed, letting her swindling posture drop just a little. “You know I’ve been a little bit battered around and broken up with a few times, my dog died um.”

She stared dejectedly at the floor, tears pricking her eyes again at the thought of Tilly. She didn’t mean to just dump all that on Ren, really. But he had asked!

“Aww,” he sighed, tilting his head sympathetically. Pearl felt a flush of angry heat burn up her neck. No, she didn’t need his sympathy. She was just fine, she was…she didn’t need him to patronise her and certainly not to save her. She might have a tower but she wasn’t a damsel in distress. This was very much a self-imposed isolation.

“I’m doing fantastic,” she shrugged, trying to tuck her hair into place and only succeeding in making it messier. “I’m just alone by myself doing…stuff and Scar’s…got a bucket.” She didn’t want to say she was conspiring with Scar to torture Scott and Grian and he’d gone to get…something (she suddenly realised she still had no idea what) to do so more efficiently. That just seemed…well she’d already gushed about her dog’s death, the way to claw her way back to polite conversation wasn’t to start talking about torture. “He’s got a bucket full of sunshine.” And then after a moment when the two of them just frowned at her she added, “And he knows that it’s all his.”

The two of them nodded. BigB frowned and Ren just shrugged like that wasn’t the weirdest thing either of them had heard all day.

“Oh well uh, sorry your dog died.” It was all he could think to say really. He wasn’t sure what she was on about Scar and a bucket.

“Yeah,” BigB sighed, really wishing he could not have to follow Ren around and instead just leave this whole awkward situation.

“That’s,” Ren mumbled, glancing at BigB, “That’s kinda put a dampener on the evening to be honest.”

BigB nodded, unsure what else to do with Ren’s eyes on him other than agree.

“Yeahhh,” Pearl shrugged, trying not to think about how she was being a burden on another two people. Instead, she focused on what she was out here to do. What this whole fiasco with Scar and now with Ren and BigB was all about, “Well, have you seen a dog by chance?” She scrabbled in her pack for where she had her wrapped up cow bone with still a little meat on it. She was hoping it would win over another dog, even if she couldn’t find a puppy. “I have bones.” She thoughts of the collar in her other pocket and chewed her cheek, muttering, “I would like to reincarnate my sweet little Tilly.”

For once, Ren wasn’t the one who responded, staring at the wrapped bone in probably a fair amount of concern. Instead, it was BigB who piped up, “There was one by ours actually.”

“Oh there was?” Ren frowned as Pearl gasped clutching the bone tightly and tipping onto her tip toes, buzzing with excitement.

“Was there?”

BigB nodded, sitting up a little straighter and Ren turned back to Pearl with a grin, “There is one by ours somewhere!”

“I would love a dog!” Peal jumped up in the air, giving the two of them pleading looks, glancing frantically between them, “Is there a dog? I would love it! Please! Please!”

“Too bad we own it,” BigB snapped before immediately grinning and laughing and shaking his head, “Nah, I’m kidding.”

“Hi Scar!” Ren grinned, waving at the trees behind Peal where she turned and saw Scar, running up beaming, swinging his bucket in one hand and twirling his cane with every other step.

“Well hello there!” he called, dropping the bucket and clasping his cane with both hands, leaning forward on it to fix Peal with a pointed look, his eyes flashing toward the pair on their horses.

“Hi!” Peal gushed, glancing at the bucket and frowning. Was that…ohhhh. Snow.

“Ohh, you guys are paired up,” Scar tutted at Ren and BigB, “oh. Okay.”

He turned back to Peal, gesturing casually to her while pointedly glaring at the other two. “Um, we’re gonna torture our soulmates so- so uh,” he waved a hand by way of finishing the sentence, very clearly saying, ‘shoo’.

“Oh that’s-” Ren screwed up his face in concern and a healthy amount of fear, “That’s some creepy stuff going on in the grove,” he pulled on his reigns, turning his horse away from the clearing

“We better get out of here BigB,” Ren was speaking to his soulmate but his gaze flickered cautiously between Pearl and Scar.

“Yeah,” BigB murmured and Pearl bitterly wondered if he was capable of doing anything other than mindlessly agreeing with Ren. Oh, she couldn’t blame him, he was in love. But her heart dropped all the same, somewhat hoping he’d oppose Ren, or at least finish their conversations before rushing off.

“Yeah, yeah definitely.”

“I-” she paused, glancing between the two of them desperately, “dogs?”

“Yeah, I like how Pearl pretends to be all like innocent and stuff,” Ren scoffed, completely ignoring her, the fear in his eyes turning steadily to anger and disgust, “But meanwhile literally torturing people.”

Pearl glanced at Scar, too many thoughts, too many of them angry and miserable, clouding up her mind. She was angry at Scar because she was literally about to get a dog! But it wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t known. And she wasn’t about to get angry at him because he was just about her only ally! But then again…wasn’t Tilly supposed to be her only ally? Her soulmate? Hadn’t she said a hundred times that was what she needed? All she cared about?

“I didn’t!” she spluttered at Ren like he might change his mind. “I just wanted…” she trailed off, trying to swallow back the tears in her throat.

“I broke up a deal over here, and now I feel bad.” Scar murmured, folding his arms across his chest and biting his cheek.

Pearl felt her heart drop and a sob build in her throat, she hung her head, saying with all the weepiness she could muster without actually breaking down crying, “I just want a dog.”

Ren nodded nervously, “That’s okay.” He cast a doubtful glance at Scar who gave him an overexaggerated smile and a wave. “You guys do your thing,” he continued, still sounding on edge. BigB was already turned to leave and his soulmate followed, quickly surpassing him so they could fall into rhythm of BigB following Ren instead of the other way around, which didn’t quite feel right.

“Fine!” Pearl called, running after to yell when they began to ride off, “I’ll visit you guys later!” The two of them called back incomprehensible assurances as she tripped and stumbled over roots and through trees, utterly failing to catch up to them on their horses. “I’ll be getting that dog! You’ll see me later!”

She stumbled half into a tree and grabbed onto a branch, keeping herself up right and trying to catch her breath, watching the light of the horses disappear into the thick trees. She heard the soft crunching of Scar’s footsteps behind her and turned.

He was leaning against a tree, glancing up at her with an eyebrow raised in silent questioning. She sighed, letting her shoulders slump and moving past him. He grinned, trailing giddily to catch up with her.

“Okay, okay, Pearl, Pearl.”

They made it back to the clearing and he made over to the bucket of snow, kicking it over so that the snow tipped out over the grass. “Here we go!” he held his hands up, grinning in excitement and okay, at least a little bit of mania. But his excitement was palpable and entirely contagious.

“Ohh!!” she perked up, having mostly forgotten about the snow, about Scar and her plan. About the very reason her dog deal had been foiled. And it was almost as exciting a prospect. “Yesss!!”

She made right across the clearing and swept her cloak underneath her sitting straight down in the pile of snow.

Scar leant forward on his cane, grinning at her as she piled snow onto her skin, letting it tingle despite the shivers running up and down her spine, spreading across her skin.

“P-perfect,” she laughed through chattering teeth, her skin burning and stinging now, a cold chill running up her veins and seizing her heart. She smiled maniacally through the pain, knowing Scott was feeling it too. Knowing she was probably pissing him off to no end. “W-we need m-more of this S-Scar.”

“Oh, I know,” Scar laughed, twisting his soulbound idly between his fingers, staring up at the darkened sky, missing the absent sun. “I need more buckets!” he sighed, glancing back down at Pearl who was still piling as much snow as she could on her arms and legs and now her neck as well. “I have plenty!” she cried giddily. Scar honestly admired how committed she was.

Apparently not that committed because she suddenly stood, shaking the snow out of her clothes and shivering violently, “I’m g-gonna d-die in here.” She wrapped her cloak around her tighter and went to sit underneath a tree not too far from the snow.

“I have plenty,” she murmured, sounding almost sleepy, “I’ll make more buckets.”

“Alright,” Scar made his way over to the snow with an equally manic grin, “Hold on I wanna try. I wanna try.”

He shuffled the snow into a slightly more compact pile, muttering something about potential for a bigger bucket as he settled himself in the pile.  “Ohhh,” he squealed as the snow tingled and stung at his skin, “Grian’s out there like, ‘I should have let him…have the pandas in the walls.”

Pearl beamed, making her way back over and settling herself so that they were back-to-back and both half covered in snow, shivering, teeth chattering and laughing their asses off.

“You know what,” she muttered and Scar hummed giddily, “This is a good idea.”

“BigB,” Ren let out a relieved sigh as the moonlight signalling the edge of the forest fell across their faces, “This is why we don’t leave Box dude. This is why we don’t leave Box B because there’s some crazy stuff happening in this world man!” He gestured his hand around wildly and then ran it through his hair, apparently tired from his rant.

“You’re right,” BigB murmured, vaguely thinking to himself that surely not everyone else other than him and Ren were crazy nutters in the forest, “Anywhere Scar’s around, things can be crazy.”

Ren was apparently not done with his rant though. “Like those two are literally torturing their soulmates!” he insisted, staring at BigB who just nodded thoughtfully, “And- and laughing about it!”

A slightly awkward silence fell over the two of them and Ren just sighed heavily into the quiet night, somewhat regretting his rant. He wasn’t sure why it had put this stiffness between them, but he didn’t like it. Then BigB hummed and muttered,

“Crazy times man.”

Chapter Text

Scott stood in the higher branches of the tree as the last of the day was consumed by the dark sky, trying to reposition himself to lob off a branch with his axe. The last thing he wanted was to die by falling out of a tree after lobbing off his arm with his own axe, though that did seem to be where the precarious situation was headed.

It didn’t help that Pearl was in pain, the whole time. Just consistently.

At first he cursed under his breath, letting out an ‘ow’ as pain shot across his skin and vaguely wondering what she was doing. Then the feeling crept, spreading to his fingertips, consistent enough that he could recognise it as cold. It made his extremities numb and his skin crawl with tingling, stinging pain until he could no longer bear it. Okay, it felt like intentional pain at this point.

You know what? He wasn’t gonna help. He wasn’t gonna go inside and get as warm as he could. That was her problem. If she wanted to play who has the higher pain tolerance with him, she’d freeze to death.

In fact, he was gonna add to it. He tucked the axe into his belt, figuring he probably needed to get some sleep anyway and jumped right out of the tree. It was far too high and his legs suddenly felt incredibly weak, buckling under him and making him crash into the ground. Pain shot through his entire left side and he laughed triumphantly as warmth tingled his skin again.

She didn’t like that one.

“Two can play this game Pearll!” he yelled into the trees, as if anyone other than the monsters lurking in the shadows would hear him.

-

The evening dragged on and Scott didn’t in fact, go to sleep. Not when he should have, anyway. He was too busy watching Cleo and Martyn’s conversation (or fight by the looks of things) from afar, which mostly seemed to involve a lot of angry motioning and throwing his hands around from Martyn, a tired fed-up demeanour from Cleo and both of them pointing over at him. He knew he’d be involved in the conversation but knowing they were saying things about him and he didn’t know what made him feel ill. At some point, Ren and BigB came around when he was doing his latest chore instead of sleeping, which was tilling the fields around his wheat in order to expand.

“Hey Scotty, what’s up?” he heard Ren’s voice and turned to see him and his soulmate aboard horses, looking very pleased with themselves. Well, Ren looked pleased with himself, BigB was watching Ren in utter captivation and trying and failing to copy his demeanour. Scott thought it a shame how BigB was trying to fit in with Ren when he, in Scott’s personal opinion, was a much more interesting person than the sort of shallow, inflated ego swagger Ren had about him.

“Hello,” he sighed, a little too tired to be dealing with people right now and as such, making no effort to hide how unenthused with conversation and their general presence he was. "How're you?"

“Hi!” Ren grinned at BigB who returned it and then nodded, “Good," in response to Scott’s question that he wasn’t really asking.

“We’ve got some good news!” Ren pontificated holding up a dramatic arm and gesturing broadly at Scott’s cows, “We’ve managed to get ourselves some- some cows so we shall no longer be uh…saving your cows anymore.”

Scott rolled his eyes, not exactly sure what reaction they were expecting (‘yayy you’re not gonna steal from me!’ ?) but clearly, they didn’t have all the information.

“Yeah, but you also made it the closest Jimmy can get to joining the horn club!” It was a good thing, for Ren probably, that Scott didn’t have the energy to properly rip into him or he might have chewed his ear off for a while.

“Why would you do that?” he insisted instead, giving Ren a moment to respond and when he didn’t, adding, “like that was the general server goal was not to let Jimmy in the horn club!”

“Oh yeah,” Ren muttered, “Oh I forgot about that.” he glanced at BigB with a less than subtle ‘we go now’ look and turned back to Scott with what might have been a charming smile if he didn’t see right through it. Then he pulled his horse away, already heading over the bridge calling back, “I have to- I have to go now. Bye Scott! See ya!”

“Bye Ren,” his voice was dejected but not angry. He didn’t need to make enemies with Ren and BigB as well at Jimmy and Tango.

BigB just waited there for a moment, glancing between his soulmate heading over the bridge and Scott, deadpan staring at him.

“I have to- I have to follow my soulmate and all ya know.”

“I wouldn’t know actually.”

Cleo made their way grumpily across their bridge until they were directly across from Martyn, sitting on his own, well if you could even call it a bridge, and swinging his legs into the ravine.

“Do I need to get a flint and steel?” She called and he glanced up at her, glaring and scrambling to his feet. “Is this- is this where we’re going?”

“No!” he yelled back, louder than was actually necessary for them to hear him. It was a pretty still and quiet night. “This is- this is my heart right here.”

For a few moments, Cleo stared at the odd shambles of a building, wondering how in the name of any of the gods it was a heart, “Okay.” She was overwhelmingly unimpressed.

“This is my heart!” Martyn continued rambling and gesturing so intensely Cleo thought he might fall right off his bridge. Good thing there was water below really. “This is me and when you’re done being childish and immature and…”

Cleo didn’t listen to the rest of whatever he had to say. They were so fucking offended.

“Childish and immature?!” she yelled, with all the fury she could muster. It was late, after all.

“And listening to anything that guy has to say,” He gestured fiercely over at Scott’s house, “Then I’m more than happy for you to link back up with me and we can be real proper soulmates but right now, you’re being really selfish and honestly,”

“Look, look,” Cleo tried to speak but he just kept yelling over them.

“You’re gloating, look at what you’re doing here!”

“You know what’s-”

“You let him speak in your ear and you let him tell you that I was off not caring about my soulmate.”

Oh void, was that what he thought? Damn, he was stupid when he wanted to be.

“I-I…”

“I was providing!”

They waited a few moments to make sure he was done and he just stood there, on the edge of his bridge, glaring and waiting for a response. Right. So she could speak now.

“I was the one that…” they paused, trying to gather their thoughts through the utter ridiculousness of what Martyn was suggesting. “Look, no, no, no…you say that! I was the one that brough it up first!”

There was a silence between them for a moment. Martyn just bit his cheek, feeling his heart do a synchronised dive with his stomach.

“That just makes it worse,” he muttered, turning away full of angry energy he didn’t have any way of using.

“You can blame him all you like,” Cleo laughed, flicking her hair behind her ear and scoffing indignantly, “But no. I was the one that mentioned the fact that you were- you were galivanting away and we should just join up. That was me!”

And now Martyn couldn’t even be angry at Scott. But he thought Cleo was probably more likely to see reason than that stubborn blue fucker.

“Have you ever heard of putting food on the table?” he yelled, turning back to her and pointing madly at his chest, “That’s what I was doing!” he was getting really angry now, caught up in his hot headedness. In the back of his mind he knew this was not the way to a happy marriage but he was finding it really quite hard to give a shit, “I was going to the most dangerous places, facing the foulest foes and I had to hang out with Pearl! And that in itself was awful.”

“Wow!” Cleo yelled, actually managing to talk over him for once out of sheer offendedness. She wasn’t sure why she was offended. They’d abandoned Pearl too but they weren’t about to start dropping sentences like that. They still liked her as a person! She just needed to step up and take a little responsibility. Martyn was just, as ever, a little too far. And still yelling.

“All to do what was best for us two!” He took a step back, literally and probably metaphorically also, taking a deep breath and adding in a much calmer tone, “I didn’t mean the Pearl comment, don’t tell her I said that.”

Cleo just scoffed incredulously, well aware she wouldn’t be able to talk anyway because Martyn was rambling again.

“But no, as soon as you’re done playing house with him- he doesn’t care about your best interests, he’s just- he’s gonna min max

“Look!”

“and wanna win this whole thing…”

As if that wasn’t what they were all here to do. If anything, Scott had shown the least interest in winning this season. Cleo had assumed because he already had now.

“This is-”

 “I care about us!”

They sighed, putting their hands on their hip and waiting for Martyn to finish again. Apparently he had. Right.

“Look, this is the best thing for the pair of us,” she sighed, throwing up her hands, “Because you don’t have to- what do I bring to the table? Honestly, Martyn.”

It was a decent line or arguing. Ideally, they’d say something that would make him just drop it and go be like Pearl or like he had been for the past week and just fucking ignore her and let her do her thing with Scott. She just needed to convince him that that was what he wanted and not what she wanted. Because they damn well knew he wouldn’t do it for them.

“I bring, rubbish PVP skills and pithy one liners that’s IT!”

“You are talking to somebody who loves puns and one liners!” Martyn was downright offended; it was like she didn’t know him at all! “What’re you talking about?”

Cleo sighed, rubbing her temples frustratedly, trying to figure out how to speak into Martyn’s ear. “Look, this way- this way,”

But he shouted over her again, with all the offence in his voice as though she’d viciously and personally insulted him. Which she was about five minutes away from doing if he didn’t stop shouting.

“I bring the skill, you bring the vibes that’s- that’s what I was signing up for!”

He was actually going to gesture himself off that bridge.

Martyn valued strategy right? It was one of few things they could see in him that actually made them understand how they were soulmates. But she did actually value other things, friendships, relationships, morals, over strategy. Martyn, no. He valued winning, more than most things, more than anyone as far as she had seen, except Ren of course, who seemed to be an exception to every single one of Martyn’s rules.

But perhaps if they could convince him it was a strategy…some elaborate ruse. If he thought they were on his side, he’d leave them alone, right? Or just pester them more?

“Yeah, but. If you look at it this way, you don’t have to watch out for me.”

She let that hang in the air for a moment and was surprised he didn’t immediately seize the opportunity to  speak, or rather, shout.

“I’ve got somebody else watching out for me,” she gestured aggressively over at Scott’s house, borderline lies already forming themselves in her mind, “I’ve got somebody else, who’s willing to lay down their life. For me.”

Martyn frowned, chewing on his tongue for a moment and meeting her fierce gaze in equal measure. Cleo wondered for a moment if she’d finally won him over. But then in a simple moment, all the tension drained from Martyn’s posture and he shrugged, tossing out in a nonchalant voice,

“I think we need to think about Pearl in this situation.”

Another rather stilted, glaring silence.

“Why?”

And another. He was slipping, he was grasping at straws of his arguments. She had leverage now.

“Do you not want to win Martyn, is that what you’re saying to me?” She tutted, shaking her head all over the top so he could see it from his rickety bridge, “That’s a first.”

“I do!” he jumped to defence almost immediately but retained that nonchalance more than she would have liked. “But what I’m saying is, keep your enemies closer.”

Several more moments passed, neither of their expressions moving a fraction for fear of what it might let on and the whistling of the wind and rush of the river down below the only sound between them.

“Well maybe you should go and get Pearl,” Cleo offered, half sarcastic and honestly not sure if she wanted that or if it just gave Martyn someone else to hassle. After a beat she added, “That way, we’ve both got six lives to go through.”

He didn’t respond, casting his gaze silently into the distance, watching Scott illuminated by the light streaming out of his windows, effectively slashing at a zombie with his knife until it crumbled into dust. Cleo, following Martyn’s gaze, could practically hear her true soulmate tutting about his ruined grass.

“Oh he’s got a zombie after him I dunno,” the man across from her muttered, effectively changing the conversation away from the very good point Cleo was making.

The silhouette of horses came into view riding up in the moonlight.

“Pearl’s gonna come looking for him any moment now in all honesty.”

Cleo didn’t say anything, absent-mindedly picking at her sleeves as Martyn turned back, shrugging all decisively.

“Anyway, I’ve said my piece. You’re being, I think you’re being converted by him.”

Martyn gestured over at Scott’s where Cleo’s gaze was still fixed. They were frowning at the horses. It wasn’t Pearl at all.

“No!” she turned back to Martyn, gesturing in the same direction he was, “That’s Ren and BigB, that’s-”

“That’s far worse,” he muttered bitterly but Cleo tutted, shaking her head. He wasn’t getting it still.

“but, but no, no arguably, arguably.” They took a deep breath, forcing their thoughts to steady in their head. They were racing out of control again and needed to calm their mind so their mouth could catch up. Martyn, apparently, didn’t even like Pearl that much and honestly, that didn’t surprise her. But maybe, just maybe. After all, Ren seemed to be an exception to every single one of Martyn’s rules. “If you, if you get Pearl and join up with Ren and BigB because you and Ren have this kind of…” she turned back to him and he raised an eyebrow in daring as she paused, searching for the right word whilst knowing there wasn’t one, to describe their relationship, “Let’s call it a bromance.”

Which earned her a scoff from Martyn, but no shouting, so she left it and continued. “Going on. Always. You know, that’s two people before it gets to you.”

The two of them fell into silence again. A slightly longer one. Cleo was always careful when she was trying to convince someone. If they spoke too much, it made it far too obvious. So she waited for Martyn to start the conversation anew. Martyn was too wrapped up in his own thoughts, staring at the horses across the way. Thinking about Ren, and BigB.

Bromance. Sure.

But it was reassuring, he supposed to know that he wasn’t making it up. There was…something, between him and Ren. Something that hadn’t died in the battle of Dogwarts, even if their love, their plain simple romance, had.

They weren’t simple, perhaps they weren’t even romance. Perhaps Cleo was right and they should call it a bromance. But they were…something. Right?

He didn’t even know anymore. Everything had been so complicated last season, with all that was going on and besides that, Mumbo, with everything so fresh in memory…And now this season. There was BigB, and they seemed happy and maybe he was finally facing the other side of what Ren had felt last season but hadn’t there been BigB last season? Hadn’t Ren and Martyn been apart for longer than they’d been together now?

But Cleo was right, there was always…something.

And then there was Cleo. Cleo who certainly wasn’t romance but he was protective over, invested in. And he was certainly oddly jealous of Scott. And now she was insinuating it was all just an elaborate scheme. That they could just see the risks of sharing health with your soulmate and wanted other allies who could sacrifice their lives if it came down to it. That made sense. It was certainly a strategy he was on board with and he was here to win after all. But hadn’t the divorce last week been genuine? Was that part of the ruse? Why hadn’t she come and told him? He honestly didn’t know anymore and it made him angry and confused.

He just hummed dejectedly, turning back to them with a sigh.

“So this is what we’re doing is it?” He raised an eyebrow in expectation but they just frowned at him. He honestly didn’t have the words to explain, spluttering like a fool, “So you- what your saying is- we are…”

“Shhh,” Cleo hissed at him, “Shh, shh, shh, They’re coming over” she stood up a little straighter and waved at Ren and BigB coming across the bridge toward her. Then turned back to Martyn with a pointed look, “We’ll talk about this in a bit.”

“Hii!” She cooed, turning around as Ren and BigB pulled their horses to a stop in front of her. Martyn turned away and headed back down his bridge, not least because he didn’t want to speak to Ren right now.

He shut the door to his house behind him and pressed his back against it, mentally noting he was gonna need blinds or curtains for all these windows at some point. He needed somewhere to break down crying and hitting stuff where no-one could see him losing his shit. And while right in the middle of the ravine with windows looking in was art. It really wasn’t practical. And he had to prepared, he presumed, to start accumulating enemies. Not just because he had a habit.

He just really, really didn’t know where he stood right now, with anyone.

Maybe, judging by that conversation, him and Cleo were more on the same page than he initially thought. It seemed as though Cleo was actually just bringing a load of people closer to have them fall on the sword for her. Which meant that they were falling on the sword for him. They misjudged him in the first week, he misjudged them tonight.

He glanced around the little house, wondering if he should actually continue with it at all. His soulbound was a lot stronger than he thought, maybe he didn’t need…

No, he’d still keep building it as a statement piece. So everybody thought that him and Cleo were slightly more at odds than they actually were.

But he was happy with where they were at. That conversation certainly went a lot better than he thought it would. No, this was good for now. He just hoped when the end came, Cleo would be true to her word and loyal to him, not Scott.

-

“What’re you two up to,” Ren called as his horse clip-clopped it’s way off the bridge, gesturing to Martyn’s floating ravine house, “This is some crazy- what is going on here?”

BigB wasn’t sure how they’d ended up with Martyn again. He couldn’t help but think, probably slightly biasedly, that for two people who weren’t fated soulmates, Martyn and Ren sure did have a way of falling back to each other.

Cleo sighed, shaking her head in utter frustration, “This,” she grumbled, motioning in the same direction as Ren, “is the person that I am, Let’s call it soulbound to.”

“Oh my god, I’m sorry about that,” Ren tutted, staring out into the middle where Martyn was moving about in his house.

BigB felt a stupid surge of joy at his soulmates’ bitter words. Reminding himself firmly that they weren’t surprising. Ren didn’t want to go back to Martyn.

He really did try so hard to get that in his brain.

“No, it’s okay!” Cleo perked up a little, “My- my soulmate is Scott over there,” she gestured toward his house across the bridge with a weary smile, “and I- I’m in much better hands, you know?”

Ren nodded understandingly as they turned back to Martyn who was now standing in the window, watching the lot of him with a frown, “And uh, yeah. He thinks putting a heart in the middle a ravine is- is gonna win me over.”

“Look at that little face though,” Ren chuckled, watching Martyn with a fond gaze. “I mean, it’s adorable.”

BigB wanted to throw himself off the cliff. How come every time he convinced himself Ren didn’t like Martyn anymore, he went and said something like that? Why couldn’t the man just make up his mind?

“He’s not even- what’s he wearing??” Cleo practically yelled out of frustration.

“He didn’t even bother to wash his dirty clothes,” Ren sighed affectionately, shaking his head with another laugh.

At that point, the door to the little heart burst open and Martyn came out yelling, “Doesn’t even matter about what I’m wearing I can hear every word you’re saying!”

The three of them just laughed, like it had all been affectionate jokes while Martyn glared them down. But Cleo took careful note of the way his gaze softened as it landed on Ren, shaking his head like he hadn’t a care in the world.

“Careful BigB!” Ren yelled, pulling on his reigns so that his horse set off away from a zombie lumbering toward them. Unfortunately, BigB didn’t see it and got half knocked off by it’s clawing at his ankles, having to scrabble to draw his sword as he yelped.

He hacked at it until it stumbled away from him, and looked up with a pointed look, gesturing at it right as it disintegrated, giving them a pointed look, “A zombie, Cleo.”

Then a whole hoard more appeared from the darkness and Ren yelled and gestured frantically at his soulmate, already making off back across the bridge. The two of them rode away in a hurry, calling back apologies and goodbyes as the zombies scrambled after them.

There was a moment of quiet as they faded out of earshot. Then Cleo turned to Martyn with a dubious expression he matched perfectly.

“Okay, maybe you shouldn’t join up with them.”

“Yeah I don’t think-”

“Yeah that’s a bad idea.”

Martyn turned away, wandering back down his bridge again, teetering just a little, to put his soulmate on edge. “I’m going to the deep dark with them later on,” he called, laughing at how much of a trainwreck that was going to be, “I’m not entirely sure how that’s gonna play out.”

Cleo felt their heart sink and the headache that had been slowly accumulating fully settle itself. “Oh okay,” they scoffed, trying to make their anger as evident as possible to Martyn, who mentioned going to the deep fucking dark like it was no big deal. “Okay. Right.”

“Just as a heads up,” he laughed, as if their frustration was the first indication he had that his soulbound might have an issue with that. For fucks sake.

 “Just as a heads up,” they scoffed incredulously, tutting as they made forward, “Oh yeah. Come here, come here.”

She grabbed a plank of wood from her pile for construction and reached over the railing of her bridge to tip the end of the plank onto Martyn’s. It connected the two in a bridge even more flimsy than his but they could at least tiptoe with the utmost care over it until they got to his, their heartbeat protesting such actions the entire way.

“We’re golden carroting,” Martyn was rambling away, caught up in his own thoughts, “So basically he’s got- oh wait, what’s happening?”

He frowned at her, taking a few steps backward as Cleo stepped onto his bridge and let out a relieved breath.

“Look,” they sighed, a little nervous now that Martyn was close enough to smell. She softened a little at the confused and hurt look in his eye, even if it were cloaked in an angry selfish expression.

“If you’re going to the deep dark,” They let their shoulders slump, shrugging helplessly, “I’m not gonna stop you because you’re a- you- you’re daft.”

Martyn laughed and Cleo just shook their head exasperatedly, reaching to their belt where their sword hung idly, hardly used. They weren’t a fighter after all.

They held it out to Martyn, staring pointedly at him as he stared in awe at the shining surface of diamond.

“Oh wow, okay.” He glanced up at them and they met his gaze, knitting their eyebrows together in a silent warning.

“Right. Get yourself a sword. And don’t. Die.”

“I promise,” Martyn nodded, wrapping his hands around the hilt.

“Cos if you die,” They snapped, pushing the sword firmly into his hands and taking a few steps back, “We’re gonna have another conversation and it’s gonna be a lot worse than this one.”

Martyn nodded overly enthusiastically, just a little of his hardened edges softening. Just for a moment as he slid the sword into his own belt and met her eye, “I’ll do us proud, don’t you worry.”

Cleo sighed, shaking their head as they turned away, breezing off toward their cottage, thinking only of dinner and bed. Completely unaware that their words were changing Martyn’s entire way of thinking about the whole situation.

“Do yourself proud. You don’t need to worry about me.”

By the time Scar woke, midmorning was casting golden light his eyes could no longer block out and Grian was gone. He tried to think affectionately as he sat up rubbing his eyes. He’d probably been up for hours, the lunatic. He remembered waking in the heat of the day, trekking out into the sand just to find Grian with three new farms grumbling that it was about damn time Scar dragged his ass out of bed and shoving food in front of him while he briefed him on everything he’d done while he was sleeping in.

But this wasn't that.

Grian wasn’t even in the spiky fort, hadn’t left so much as a note telling Scar where he’d gone. He’d just upped and left, leaving his supposed soulmate to fend for himself.

It wasn’t surprising. None of it was. Not Grian waking up early, nor Scar waking up late, especially given the night he’d have. Grian leaving without a second thought, probably also given the night he’d had. In the back of his head, Scar knew it wasn’t productive to repairing the relationship to be spending his evenings torturing him. But he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to repair the relationship. If Grian wasn’t going to put any effort in, neither was he.

And his soulmate still hadn’t commented on the fact that he’d gotten them a horse. And Scar hadn’t even begun to think about what he’d told Bdubs. He didn’t want to. He wanted to pretend like everything was fine. Like at any moment Grian was going to come back in with his annoyed grumbling and tell him everything that was going on. Give him an update, ask his opinion, ask how he slept.

Stupid little shit that just didn’t happen anymore. The indicators of all the distrust still simmering between them.

But Scar had never been one for dwelling. Or at least he didn’t like to be. He liked to be busy, get up and get on with his day. Run away from all his problems by creating a whole triage of new ones that could be solved by killing someone or setting something on fire instead of talking about his feelings or confronting his painful memories.

Like the healthy, well-adjusted person he was.

So he woke and fished about in the chests for some semblance of breakfast that ended up just being a few stale pieces of bread and gathered his things.

He was going to go out and speak to people, see how everyone was going. He really wanted to get a second horse, for Grian. Maybe then he’d realise that he was doing it for him, for the both of them. He’d have to find someone with cows, which he was pretty sure wouldn’t be easy, because everyone was trying to desperately pretend like they didn’t have any. Only Scott had the balls to just put his out in the open and Scar’s last interaction with him had been stealing bamboo and then his boat. He didn’t rate his chances there and he really didn’t want to make an enemy out of Scott. Just like everyone else. Which was probably why Scott’s cows were the only ones out in the open. He figured he’d head over to the ranch who swore by having no cows despite the oddly contradicting name. He’d swindle some leather off of Timmy, no problem.

So he mounted his horse and off he went, off toward the cow free ranch.

Grian had woken before the sun had even risen, crawling up and out of his blanket, beads of sweat clinging to his face almost immediately stung in the cold air as he panted, fingers scrambling for something to cling to and curling around his blanket.

He sat in the stark early morning cold, staring at the dew damp grass until he could no longer feel the cold stinging his skin, the tears pricking at his eyes or the memories weighing on his mind.

He tossed the blanket aside and stood, silently and mindlessly getting himself ready for a trip down the mines. He needed resources. He needed something to do that he had to focus on that wouldn’t let his mind wander. He lit a torch and gathered his things by the flickering light. He didn’t acknowledge his lack of sleep, or his nightmare, or his soulmate still curled up under the blanket, fast asleep and snoring loudly.

He just got his things and headed outside the wall and imagined shutting in all the horrible nasty thoughts he couldn’t shake.

Like the healthy, well-adjusted person he was.

The mines settled him. Dark corners and lurking monsters, the arduous task of the mining itself. His mind was on edge, constantly searching, noticing, evaluating. He had no time to dwell, to think through and through and over again until he felt like throwing up or punching something. And if he did get there, he certainly had plenty of things to punch.

He thought he was fairly deep underground. Apparently not, because he could still hear the goat horns the whole time and at one point, after several hours of going supposedly deeper, he heard Jimmy and Tango conspiring about their goats.

He couldn’t help but laugh as he stopped to drink some water for a minute, back against the wall and slumped down on the floor, taking deep steadying breaths.

“What are these giggles?” he heard Jimmy scoff.

The horns sounded and Grian sighed. He was getting a little annoyed at the cacophony really. They were fun at first but now they were just penetrating his little bubble of serenity.

“Just think Tango, one day, we’re gonna be that person.” He heard Jimmy’s voice, giddily from above, “We’re gonna be the person doing that horn.”

Grian laughed, reaching for his horn in his pack, abruptly reminded why the cacophony was so much fun. Because Jimmy wasn’t a part of it.

“You wish you could be the person doing the horn?” he called before joining in the response with a short sharp note. He

“Grian?” Jimmy’s tone took a hard right into perplexed and he couldn’t help but laugh.

This morning was one of the best he’d had all week.

“Tango,” Jimmy muttered, turning back to the goat pen which the two of them was finishing the rather hurried construction on, “We could totally keep Scar’s horse here.” He nodded toward the man in the distance, who gave a friendly wave noticing their gaze. “Oh!” Tango grinned as the two of them waved back and then turned to Jimmy with an evil looking smirk, “I mean that’s where he belongs! We can just say he wants to be at the ranch.”

Jimmy nodded enthusiastically and Tango returned it, the two of them making a silent promise and a plan.

-

It was almost mid-day by the time Scar arrived at the ranch because he stopped to climb a tree and grab an apple and to eat said apple, with a little help from his horse when he dropped it on the ground. The ranch had a busy feel to it, between the loud bleating of the goats and Martyn and Tango talking loudly, leaning against the wall.

“Well hello there Timmy!” he called as he made his way through the gate into the well-cut grass and homely walls of the ranch. It had a nice feel to it; he had to be honest. It was in many ways similar to the spiky fort, but it had a lot more energy and life to it than the somewhat desolate walls Scar tentatively called home.

“Scar!” Jimmy looked excited to see him, if a little worse for wear. His shirts were smudged with cave dust and mud and he had a few bruises forming on his face. But he was still smiling, beaming in fact, that relentless enthusiasm of his palpable.

“Tim,” he muttered conspiratorially, dismounting his horse and leaning toward him, “I’ve come for something.”

Jimmy frowned but nodded, somewhat dubious about trading with Scar. He wanted to scam him, but he wouldn’t be at all surprised if he walked away the one scammed.

“Remember how I gave you that spyglass?” he raised his eyebrows and Jimmy’s frown deepened.

Jimmy and Scar both just stood there, the noise blaring in their ear as Martyn laughed at full volume over Tango talking to him. They watched each other silently, both a little confused and insanely overwhelmed.

Jimmy quietly pulled his spyglass out of his pocket and Scar nodded enthusiastically, smiling.

“Martyn’s really loud,” he groaned, rubbing his eyes. Jimmy nodded dejectedly.

Tango could see Jimmy getting overwhelmed at a single glance, standing there with Scar and the horse they were trying to bargain for. This wasn’t an opportunity they wanted to blow. He threw an arm around Martyn’s shoulders, leading him toward the gate and shutting down the conversation to the best of his abilities.

“You came for this?” Jimmy frowned, holding out his spyglass.

“I don’t-” Scar shook his head, pushing Jimmy’s hand back towards him, “I don’t want the spyglass. But!” he gave his cane a little twirl and pulled on his salesman persona, easier now Martyn was gone and Tango was just quietly watching from afar, “If you can spare, because I gave you that spyglass, three, just three pieces…of leather.”

Jimmy nodded, trying to think through his options reasonably. Now he knew he had something that Scar wanted…They could totally get that horse.

“Considering you’re fully decked out,” Scar motioned dramatically to Jimmy’s armour, grinning like it wasn’t pathetic, “And you’ve got steak. I’m thinking you have leather.”

It was at that moment Tango decided they should definitely just give up on pretending they didn’t have cows.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jimmy scrunched up his nose, watching Scar with a cautious expression, well aware he was probably about to get scammed, “What’re you trading us?”

“Oh I already traded you,” he shrugged, motioning at Jimmy’s hand, “remember the spyglass from last- last week.”

Jimmy took a step back, annoyance building in his chest. He was offended at the implication. “So you came back for an IOU Scar?” Did seriously no-one give anything for free? Was it all transactional and shallow and lies? Yeah. That sounded about right.

“Yeah,” Scar took a step toward him and nodded aggressively, “Yeah, it was contract.”

“Eh-” Jimmy was spluttering annoyed, tempted to just chuck the spyglass at Scar and tell him to piss off. “I…didn’t sign anything.” He took a deep breath, forcing himself to be reasoned and calm, “But- I’ll give you this, I’ll give you this, alright?”

Scar folded his arms and raised an eyebrow, “Uhuh?”

“Firstly,” he grinned, raising his arms up and smirking at Tango, “Welcome to the ranch.”

“It is a very nice ranch,” Scar nodded approvingly between them, “Well done you two.”

“Secondly!” Jimmy went over to Scar’s horse, patting it’s back with an offering smile, “we, do not have this…absolute beast, at the ranch so far.”

Scar could immediately see where this was going and made forward, whacking Jimmy’s shin with his cane and moving past him as he yelped to climb onto his horse. He wasn’t about to have it stolen. Jimmy, apparently, didn’t take the hint.

“Uh, so if you’re willing to maybe, to part with uh, your- your lovely friend here.” He was leaning forward, grinning. Scar didn’t seem particularly interested, but surely he could be persuaded.

“Your trusty steed, yes.” Tango added, taking several steps toward to stand beside Jimmy. Scar watched them both warily.

“We would take care-” Jimmy began before Scar interrupted, yelling.

“Wait, wait a se- no! no!” He glared at them both, shaking his head violently, “Wait a second, three leather for a horse and a saddle?” He pulled on his horses reigns and set off, away from the gate and toward the wheat field, “You guys are crazy at this ranch!” he called over his shoulder.

“We can talk about this Scar!” Jimmy yelled after him, matching and probably doubling his volume.

“That is insane!” Scar ran straight into the wheat field, his horses hooves grinding the crops into the mud, “That is insane! So sorry guys.”

“Scar, we can talk about this, Scar!” Jimmy was screaming now, running after him.

Tango followed, not seeming super concerned about the horse, yelling, “Don’t trample our farm!!” staring devastated at the ruined crops.

“I’m so sorry, this didn’t turn out as well as I was hoping,” Scar called in a civilly apologetic tone while getting his horse to run over every inch of the farm he could while the ranchers screamed at him.

“Keep him at the ranch!” Jimmy screeched, grabbing onto the horses reins, “Keep him at the ranch!”

Scar yanked the reins out of his grip, turning away and Jimmy fell into the muddy remains of the fields while Scar lead his horse into an almighty leap across the wall, yelling, “I’m so sorry,” over his shoulder, “trample, trample!”

Bdubs usually woke earlier than Impulse, if only by about an hour. He swore he got more done in that hour of solid, focused time than in the rest of the whole day distracted by his soulmate.

He was by no means complaining.

Impulse dragged himself out of bed, yawning and stretching, grinning at Bdubs as he grabbed a jumper off the floor. The sun was quickly rising and Bdubs had decided it wasn’t worth starting a fire, but it did mean their house was quite cold outside of the cosy bubble of the bed.

They had a quiet breakfast, Impulse making fairly slow progress of his soup. He was a much better cook than Bdubs, who only ever attempted breakfast and didn't do particularly well.

It was as they were cleaning up that Impulse breached the subject of what was on the agenda for the day.

“There is another horse over in the plains,” Bdubs called casually over his shoulder as he stacked the bowls back into the chest, “Do you want a horse?”

He was speaking really quite fast and Impulse was still not fully awake and with it but he heard horse and could hear his enthusiasm so he just nodded and shrugged, “Sure.”

And then realised with startling clarity who he was and who he was talking to. Bdubs probably assumed he knew how to tame a horse, how to ride one. Oh void, this was not gonna be a fun conversation.

“Okay,” he spoke up a little cautiously, “Now Bdubs I’m gonna be honest with you.”

His soulmate paused, turning with immediate concern.  Impulse shook his head, not wanting to worry him. It wasn’t a big deal. At least, he hoped not.

“I have like- never ridden horses ever.” He mumbled through the whole sentence. He knew how much Bdubs loved horses and felt oddly guilty for not sharing in it.

Bdubs stared at him silently for a few moments and then shrieked, “What?!”

“I know,” Impulse cringed, rubbing the back of his head, “I don’t do the horses usually but,” he took his hand, meeting the upset in his eyes, “Considering, considering you, are very passionate about horse-riding…”

“I love horses, yes!” Bdubs reaffirmed, rather redundantly, Impulse was well aware, but he appreciated his husbands enthusiasm none the less.

“I will take up the hobby. For, for my partner.” He met Bdubs’ gaze just as all the upset drained out of it, leaving excitement and a whole lot of love as he said, “You will?” in a tone that made Impulse melt. He just sounded so…happy.

“Yes,” he nodded with all the enthusiasm he could muster while fear built itself into his chest, “This is what partners do. We support each other’s hobbies.”

Bdubs tugged on his hand, pulling him into a kiss as he wrapped an arm around his neck. Impulse couldn’t help his stupid grin as Bdubs pulled away and immediately started grabbing stuff, thrusting it into his arms, saddles and reins and apples and all sorts, gushing excitedly. Impulse just stood there like an idiot, completely zoning out from whatever his partner was saying. He wasn’t sure if he was supporting his hobby so much as just supporting being around him, in any capacity.

Scott woke with an ache in his legs. That’s what he got for jumping out of a tree, he supposed. He stayed hidden under the blankets for a little while, squeezing his eyes shut against the sunlight streaming through the window. He was so cosy and warm. He really didn’t want to leave the bubble of his bed and have to deal with the world.

But his mind was already awake, already buzzing with thoughts of all the things he needed to do; the worrying weight of the world was already crushing him.

He could at least be out of bed to deal with it.

-

Cleo made their way over the bridge in the cool breeze of the morning, hands deep in their jumper pockets trying to keep their fingers from going numb. There was a general sense of unease throughout the server as to the cold but Cleo thought it was actually warming up slightly from when they’d first arrived. Though she wasn't sure.

They made it to Scott’s house and heard the crackling fire within quickly drowned out by a whistling kettle. She made up the stairs to the balcony and knocked on the door that Scott quickly opened, meeting her with raised eyebrows. They just sighed heavily and he laughed, letting them inside and shutting the door behind them.

She shrugged off her jumper, the warmth of the fire already hitting her freezing skin. They sat at the table they’d helped Scott construct while bitching about their soulmates so they could, well, bitch about their soulmate.

She came over to Scott’s every morning for what the two of them had affectionately dubbed their daily ‘debrief’ but was more just spending a half hour bitching and gossiping over a cup of tea.

Scott quietly poured boiling water into mugs with a few leaves he’d foraged in the past week that they’d found made half decent tea. He was waiting for them to be ready to talk about their conversation with Martyn. But she was tired from being kept up all night by him and his yapping and really just wanted a moment of calm with her real soulmate.

He set the tea down in front of them and they thanked him with a smile and then sighed, feeling much more confident with their hands wrapped around the mug.

“Okay, so.”

Scott nodded encouragingly.

“He’s going to the dark later.”

“Oh.” Scott’s eyes went wide but he didn’t really look surprised, “Um…”

As speechless as she’d felt when he’d first told her.

“So I gave him my sword,” they started but were quickly interrupted by Scott blurting out, “But why though.”

She frowned, seeking elaboration. He sighed and set down his tea so he could gesture his way through his points.

“Because the goal is that you should be able to get in and out there without ever touching-” he paused, shaking his head. He was making it more complicated than it needed to be, “If the Warden is summoned, he’s dead.”

Cleo stared at him for a full moment, closing their eyes and tutting, “I didn’t…know…that.” She set down her tea probably more aggressively than she should have and a little spilled over the side onto the table, “I didn’t know that. Okay, um…”

“The basic rule is,” Scott continued pointedly, “If he meets the Warden, you’re already dead. Like, the sword won’t do anything so you’ll die and lose the sword.”

Cleo felt a weight in their stomach, tutting at themself and their retrospective foolishness. Still, it was more of a gesture really. A peace offering of sorts.

Get yourself a sword. Just a message of warning more like.

“Well he’s going to go to the enchanter,” she shrugged, rolling their eyes at Martyn for helpfully not pointing that out, or- void maybe he didn't know... “So he might as well have something to enchant you know?”

“True.”

“Yeah,” Cleo gazed out the window, watching the rustling leaves, breeze whispering through the wheat field. “He’s, he’s tryna win me over and…” they sighed, trying to figure out how to explain the whole conversation to Scott without sounding like they were on Martyn’s side. Because that was what she’d told him, wasn’t it? It wasn’t so much a lie…it was just…speaking Martyn’s language. “I just pointed out that actually…this is the best thing for him. Six lives are better than three and you and me between us we have six lives. I told him to go with Ren and BigB and then to get Pearl and then maybe he can have nine lives.” Scott was frowning at them, not quite understanding their nerves, Cleo could see it plain as day. The two of them didn’t really hide anything from each other after all. But she felt like she was, and it felt awful. They needed to explain to Scott what they’d said so that if Martyn came up talking shit, Scott knew that’s all it was and didn’t take it seriously. “And he was just like ‘okay, I’m seein this. Is this what we’re doing?’ and I’m like ‘sure, why not.’ You know, it’s like, you gotta speak to him in a way he understands.”

Scott finally stopped frowning, shaking his head with an astute smirk, “You’ve got to gaslight.” He reached across the table, taking their hand, “I get it Cleo.”

Cleo laughed indignantly, shaking their head and tutting at him, “Right.” They took a large sip of their tea, the sour taste reminding them of summer mornings, sitting around with Scott and Pearl, talking and laughing, bitching and moaning and drinking tea. It was a bittersweet memory now. But that was just how this went. Everything, even the memories her and Scott were creating now would eventually be bittersweet. That was the sacrifice you made living in a world where war and corruption and the violent end of everything was inevitable. “We’re not bringing that back again.”

The two of them laughed, slightly meanly before quiet settled over them once more.

“I might be vaguely manipulative in these games,” Cleo conceded which set Scott off laughing once more.

“But you know,” they scoffed over him, not sure why he found their unfortunate self-awareness quite so entertaining but laughing along with him anyway. “At least I’m being honest with you.

Scott’s amused grin faded into a genuinely sweet smile and he took Cleo’s hand again, “I wouldn’t expect you to gaslight me.”

“Probably not.” They shrugged, winking at him, “It’s unlikely.”

Their laughter filled the air again, for a moment, almost carefree, as if the world around them had disappeared just for a moment, leaving only the warmth of the two of them, together, in Scott's cosy little kitchen.

After much discussion of the utterly hideous nature of Martyn's house, Cleo noticed Scott's distraction, one fingernail tracing the grains of wood along the table. When he looked up to drink his tea, she raised an eyebrow at him, silently inviting him to speak. He suddenly looked exhausted, rubbing his temples. Irritated, but not surprised.

“Pearl’s been playing a dangerous game and I think she’s doing it to annoy me because she keeps being in like tiny pricking pain just consistently so I think she’s been like…”

“Burning?” Cleo offered as Scott said, “Standing on a cacti.”

The two of them grinned at each other.

Cleo was quietly grateful for their soulmate. Martyn was a bloody piece of work but at least he wasn’t purposefully hurting himself just to annoy them. That was a whole new level of crazy. They were also a little concerned that Scott didn’t seem particularly bothered by how utterly nuts that was. He could be nonchalant about a lot of things, but this did seem extreme. Then again, she wasn’t bothered by casually gaslighting her fated partner or suggesting the method by which Pearl might be hurting herself.

She and Scott really were made for each other.

“She was doing it, and then I jumped from a tree so we were in like a bunch of pain quite quickly and after that, she stopped. So,”

Leave it to Scott to immediately find a way to win even at the most twisted of games. He was a victor after all.

“Yeah, I mean,” they shrugged, raising a tentative eyebrow at him, “I could get you like really weak just to freak her out, if you really wanted to play that game.”

It wasn’t really a question. Not only did they know he wanted to play the game, they knew he wanted to win.

He set down his tea, grinning giddily and slightly frantically, “Hit me with your axe again!”

They raised their eyebrows but made no further comment, standing too and grabbing Scott’s axe that was leaning against the wall because they hadn’t brought theirs.

“Okay, let’s- let’s do this,” they gave one last look, silently seeking confirmation.

Scott nodded and they swung the axe with a sharp whistle through the air, taking effort not to hit the wall beside them and instead striking it right across Scott’s shoulder. He gasped, groaning on instinct and clasping a hand to the wound as it begun to bleed, settling himself back on his chair as he laughed with concerningly genuine amusement, “There we go!” he winced, pressing his hand tighter against the bleeding and rasping, “Love that.”

Instead of making any effort to treat the wound however, he nodded at the axe, encouraging. Cleo was all for his bullshit, and all for feeding flames. But at the end of the day, they did actually care about Scott’s wellbeing, more than he did most of the time. This was all fun and games, sort of. But if they actually died…

Instead, she set the axe down and muttered, “And if I just, I can boop you like a couple times in a row and that’d really freak her out.”

Scott nodded overly enthusiastically, “Oh yeah, she’ll gonna think I’m like proper being attacked here.”

Which was better than Pearl knowing it was intentional damage. She’d think they were actually in danger. And Scott didn't risk dying over this stupid game. So instead of the axe they hit him hard in the opposite shoulder and then once across the face, his laughter getting louder with every blow.

Funny how quickly they all fell into the habit of cruelty

“Do you know what,” Jimmy called from the door to their house, leading the goats out as Tango pushed the gate open, “I’m just hoping that one-”

He was cut off abruptly by a booming explosion that made them both jump, scrambling for weapons they didn’t have. There weren’t any red names! Who was blowing stuff up at the ranch?

“Oh my gosh! What was that?” Jim gasped, making his way to the wall to peek over. Tango took the abandoned leads of the goats and tugged them away from whatever was exploding. If someone was trying to attack them, he’d guess they were the target. He wasn’t sure why no-one wanted them to have goat horns, but it seemed to be a server wide effort.

“Don’t worry,” came Grian’s voice again in an almost corporate reassurance. Oddly calm and monotone, “Everything’s fine.”

It was a sort of tone that made Tango think that A, everything was not at all fine and B, he was probably attacking them.

“How’s it going over there, spy boy!”

Grian had been in the walls all morning and it was insanely nerve wracking. It was also absolutely impossible to tell where the sound was coming from.

There was another explosion and the two of them jumped again, Tango cursing angrily as his soulmate shouted, “oh my!”

“Where is he?” Jimmy was properly angry right now, clambering over the ranch wall and into the forest behind trying to find him. “Where is this man!?”

“What’s happening?” Tango laughed, wondering whether Grian was exploding creepers or dynamite.

“Is he in the walls?” Jimmy shouted, after his less than thorough inspection of the forest. “Is he underground??”

“I think he’s underground.”

Given they were in a forest and there weren’t any walls. Presumably, he’d found a cave down there and was having trouble with monsters. It was rather hilarious, or it might be if it weren't terrifying.

Jimmy turned back to Tango with a concerned pout, “I’m scared.”

“And intrigued at the same time.”

Which got a laugh out of his soulmate and made his creased forehead relax just a little. “Yeah.” Jimmy sighed, running hand through his hair and shrugging, “let’s just carry on tryna get this horn.”

Tango nodded, helped him back over the wall and followed him to the goats, who were now just lingering by the pen. “I don’t like this,” he murmured. He was already on edge enough without random explosion sounds every so often.

And then there was another explosion and they were both screaming again because it sounded like it was right there!

“Ahh this is so many-” Jimmy shrieked, “I don’t like it!”

“This is extra bad! Explosions!” Tango ran into their rudimentary strip mine like he might find Grian there with a pile of TNT and a grin. He wouldn’t be surprised at this point. “Team rancher under assault!”

The two of them, as it turns out, lost their heads pretty quickly. Jimmy was screaming, Tango was frustratedly glancing down tunnels in their mine. Grian, wherever the fuck he was, was just laughing his head off.

“Where is he??”

“What is going on?”

And just as they calmed a little and got back to their goats, there was another explosion and they were losing it all over again.

Grian was having the best day he’d had in a long time.

“Where- I can’t even zero in on that sound!” Tango groaned as the two of them begrudgingly returned to their goats.

Grian’s voice came again, low and warning and more than a little creepy.

“It’s because it’s all inside your head.”

“SHUT UP!!” Bdubs screamed at no-one in particular as another bout of horns went off and his soulmate groaned.

“Oh somebody’s riding a horse,” Impulse mused, glancing up the hill, “Who’s that?”

“It looked like Etho for a second there?”

Bdubs jumped over a sunken pit leading into a cave and Impulse winced calling, “Watch your step!” rather belatedly as his soulmate landed on the other side, making the last few steps up the hill.

“Hey Etho!”

“Ahh, of course it’s me.”

The two them smiled at each other, exchanging a wave and closing the few meters between them so they didn’t have to shout. Impulse struggled to catch up and cleared his throat when he arrived because he was still a jealous asshole and he didn’t know where Bdubs and Etho stood.

But Bdubs was already running up the next hill, looking for a vantage point, or a horse, Impulse wasn’t quite sure but he stopped to catch his breath and offer Etho a tentative smile, “You got a horse!”

“You took Scar’s horse,” Bdubs countered, turning around from the higher hill.

For a moment, Etho actually panicked thinking maybe he accidentally did as Impulse gasped, “Uh-oh.”

Generally, he’d learned it wasn’t a good idea to mess with Scar’s animals.

“No, no,” Etho assured them, and partially himself, “He just rode by on it, I saw.”

There was much chatter about horses that Impulse generally tuned out, Bdubs grabbed his from where he'd left it overnight and him and Etho bickered about whether or not that was actually Etho's horse.

Then Bdubs gave Impulse a pointed look over Etho's shoulder and he nodded enthusiastically. Bdubs cleared his throat and adjusted himself on his horse, mentioning as casually as he could, "Etho by the way, um, Joel swung by earlier."

"Uhuh," Etho was still distracted and remarkably unbothered.

Bdubs faltered for a moment and Impulse gave him a reassuring look. Then Etho smirked up at Bdubs, "He say good things about me?"

Which threw both of them but actually gave them a perfect in. Impulse was all for letting Bdubs dabble in lying and manipulating, as all good husbands would. But he was, out of the two of them, much better at it.

He hummed incredulously, turned away mumbling, "Not really." and followed with a calculatedly amused laugh.

"Well, okay, we promised not to say," Bdubs announced grandly as Etho took a step back, eyes going wide and darting between the two of them.

"Woah, woah, wait what?"

"We can't say anything unfortunately!" Bdubs insisted and Impulse thought he was going a little too far with that given Etho hadn't actually asked for an elaboration yet. But maybe it was in Etho's gaze, looking like a spooked horse, the nuances of his demeanour that Impulse didn't know because he hadn't been close with him like Bdubs had.

Impulse cringed, trying to give the conversation a more grounded feel, "Eh, we made- we did promise that we wouldn't..."

"Yeah, yep," Bdubs took a step forward, holding Etho's forlorn gaze, "What we can say is just- just uh be careful. Keep your guard up in your uh alliance with your double life person." He laughed through the last few words, shaking his head exasperatedly. Impulse was impressed at how natural it felt given that the words were textbook manipulation

"Dude!" Etho scoffed, "Don't tell me these things!"

He and Bdubs held furious eye contact for a short moment and then Etho sighed, conceding, "I mean tell me these things."

As Bdubs yelled, "I'm telling you because you're my friend!" He chuckled a little and Etho smirked at him. Impulse was definitely overanalysing but that was something, right? Wasn't that something. Oh stop. Stop it. Bdubs loves you.

"Okay," Etho sighed heavily, shaking his head in disbelief, "Well, I appreciate- I appreciate that much."

"Yes, yes," Bdubs glanced up at Impulse and then turned back to Etho with a tentative eyebrow, "And know that- uh we've got a mid-century modern house and it's coming along nicely, with plenty of room for- for visitors."

"Oh really?" Etho hummed, energising a little, "Can I see it?"

Apparently the implication was a little lost on him but he did seem enthusiastic.

"Yep!" Impulse motioned for Etho to follow and set out toward the house, Bdubs trailed behind as well. "Right around here. If you ever feel threatened..."

Joel could be a pretty threatening guy when he wanted to be. Though Impulse didn't pin Etho as the sort of guy to be easily threatened.

"You guys are still happy together?" Etho asked tentatively, pointing between the two of them. He sounded almost sceptical, "You're not- you're not..."

What a stupid question, Bdubs thought angrily, didn't they seem happy together?

"Oh yeah!" Impulse gushed, winking at Bdubs as he muttered, "We're power couple."

"We're in love," Bdubs spat at Etho, turning to look at his husband with his stupid impish grin and trying to block out the fact that Etho was there at all.

"Wow," Etho murmured, still intentionally audible, "That lasted a lot longer than I expected it to."

Bdubs started cackling and Impulse felt his cheeks burn a bit, vaguely feeling like he hadn't gotten the joke. He remembered Etho at the very start in the ravine. 'Is this a happy marriage?' He felt slightly offended that he hadn't thought anything of them. Yes they were happy! It was a happy marriage! They were power couple! They were gonna go the distance!

"Bdubs is gonna teach me how to a tame a horse right now!" he blurted, raising his eyebrows in questioning of 'are we still doing that' at his soulmate.

"Yes I am!" he cried, throwing an arm around Impulse's shoulder and pointing out a horse in the distance, "You ready?"

Impulse nodded enthusiastically while an unpleasant mixture of fear and embarrassment gripped his throat. Oh the things he'd do for his soulmate.

The ranchers tried to get goat horns all day, to little avail. Aggravating the frustrated goats and diving out of the way only to get fiercely butted. They stopped only to eat and drink and clean up cuts when things went a little wrong, or they got bitten by the goats. It was about midday, sun beating down on them as Jimmy leant against the wall to rest, sipping at the last drops of water in his flask and Tango tried for what felt like the hundredth time to coax a goat into charging him. Once they'd finally actually figured out how to effectively aggravate them enough to charge. Tango got almost immediately knocked over and faceplanted into the grass causing Jimmy to yelp and drop the rest of the water, cursing and making his way over to help his soulmate up.

Neither of them had anticipated how quick the goats could be, and how quick they had to be to get out of the way.

To make matters worse, Joel had come round about an hour ago and told them they’d been doing it wrong all day.

Tango didn’t believe him at first and Jimmy’s dejected emptiness that had been spreading all morning pretty much consumed him. They were never gonna get a horn. He was wasting his bloody time. He was wasting Tango’s bloody time.

He just needed to accept that he’d never be part of the horn club. And then the two of them could get on with doing far more productive things.

“It’s gotta be wood. You can’t do it on cobblestone.”

And then one of their goats escaped by jumping right over their relatively low fence and the two of them were shrieking and chasing after it while Joel stood by, laughing his ass off. And after they ran around like headless chickens for a few minutes and eventually wrangled it back inside (settling for tying them to the fence until they could build it higher), Joel was gone and Jimmy just leaned his back against the wall, burying his face in his hands and groaning, “Oh my gosh! Tango we didn’t think of that!” he pushed himself off the wall, gesturing angrily around and kicking at the grass.

“Oh we are the worst ranchers,” his soulmate laughed, slumping down on the opposite wall. Jimmy glanced up from glaring at his shoes. Tango looked as dejected as he did, shoulders slumped in exhaustion. But he had a little smirk on his face still, eyes twinkling and Jimmy couldn’t help grinning, laughing. Because despite everything, the two of them were somehow still enthused, still energised. Somehow, they got back up, shooting grins at each other and begrudgingly stacking planks of wood up against the stone wall at the end of the pen while tossing out jokes, mostly at the expense of their own ranching skill.

Their plans were quickly derailed by Grian’s voice, making a stunning return in utter befuddlement.

“What’re you doing??”

“Hey that’s-” Jimmy clenched his fists, his bubbling frustration burning into red hot anger, “STOP!” he whirled around, as if Grian might suddenly appear before him, “Where is this man??”

“The science is happening before your eyes!” Tango yelled, in equal volume, not taking his eyes off the goats.

Grian was laughing now, scoffing out cruel giggles through his words, “Are you trying to get it to headbutt wood?!”

“Yes!” the two of them yelled in unison before smirking at each other.

“Alright,” Grian mused sceptically, his voice trailing away as he called, “good luck with that.”

“Where is this man?” Jimmy screamed again and Tango was just laughing at this point. “Where!”

“I don’t know,” Tango sighed, shaking his head and wrapping an arm around Jimmy’s shoulder calmingly, “I feel like he’s- he’s using dark magic right now I’m quite certain of it.”

Jimmy scoffed out a laugh and followed his soulmate out of the pen. Tango pushed the gate closed behind them while Jimmy watched him with a lovesick smile.

They made back to the house for a proper break, determined to get back at it as soon as possible. But even their determination had to concede to their exhaustion and the heat of the day. Perhaps once the afternoon breeze came and cooled everything off a bit.

Etho wasn't having the best of days.

He'd parted ways with Joel in the morning thinking everything was fine with his life, if not how he'd imagine it would turn out. Then he'd gotten his horse, and things had gotten even better! He couldn't wait to go home and show it off to his soulmate...

And then Bdubs and Impulse had shown up with their married couple bullshit and told him, while totally not telling him, that Joel had been talking shit behind his back. He still wasn't sure whether or not he believed that. He'd like to say he trusted Bdubs, he really would. But Joel seemed obsessed with him. It was honestly scary. Sure, he joked, he teased. He said he hated Etho all the time. But it was just a bit, just his weird manic way of flirting. Right?

He didn't know anymore.

But it was oddly entertaining to hang out with Bdubs and Impulse. They really radiated married couple energy and honestly, he couldn't wait to tell Joel all about it, already imagining the jokes his soulmate would make at their expense. It was a bit mean really but he just found it so funny.

Because he knew Bdubs' restless energy couldn't handle domestic life forever and a part of him couldn't wait to see their happy little house come burning down.

Maybe he was just bitter.

Ren and BigB had been round on their horses and the lot of them had been racing and jumping. It had been good fun. Now the sun had firmly set and Etho found he didn't really want to go home to Joel. He knew he needed to have a conversation and he didn't want to. He knew exactly how it was gonna go and he couldn't figure anything out with Joel screaming at him.

So when they'd offered he could stay for dinner, yeah, he'd taken them up on it. He was making alliances right? That couldn't hurt, could it? It wasn't like he was writing off Joel. Just...keeping a distance. What was it Bdubs said, keeping his guard up? He was doing that.

It was as they were all finishing dinner and Etho was quietly wondering whether he should set off, that Bdubs approached the topic again, "If you're not feeling comfortable with your alliance, um, Impulse was uh potentially gonna go uh get some enchanted gear for us. In the morning. If you wanted to join in, maybe?"

"Oh, ooh," Etho didn't really think about the implication so much as just enchanted gear! In the back of his mind he knew he was on his yellow life and the deep dark was insanely dangerous and probably a really bad idea. But he was also on his yellow life. Enchanted gear was beneficial for survival! And he knew how to be careful. Right?

"We could set you up a third bed in the house," Bdubs gestured around with a shrug.

Etho finally got what he was offering, nodding thoughtfully. "Yeah. Yeah. That's an idea."

"Yeah," Impulse shrugged, collecting bowls and glancing around, "Could do."

Etho fidgeted with his hands, glancing between the two of them. He didn't want to be an intrusion. But it did give him a place to go that wasn't back to Joel. And he was interested in the enchanter. He didn't particularly want to ride back all the way home in the dark and then all the way back in the morning. "I would go for that."

"You would?" Bdubs grinned and Etho's heart did a series of strenuous somersaults, pushing an involuntary grin onto his face.

"Yeah?"

And so it was decided and he helped them set up a bed in their spare room that they explained was going to be the bedroom once they moved everything out of the main space. Etho lay alone, staring at the ceiling and hearing indistinct muttering from the room next door. He tried not to think about Joel, scepticism crowding the corners of his mind. It just seemed so unlikely given everything he'd seen of Joel so far.

Maybe he should have gone home. Had the conversation. He sighed into his pillow and forced his eyes shut and his mind to stop buzzing unhelpfully.

He would just have to wait and see.

-

Impulse clambered into bed and Bdubs tugged him down, pulling him close and making his husband laugh exasperatedly.

"We did it," he whispered in Impulse's ear, the excitement palpable in his voice.

"Mhm," Impulse pulled Bdubs closer, wrapping his arms tightly around him. "We're such great homewreckers."

The two of them laughed stupidly, fully aware that Etho could possibly hear them.

They left it at that, no need to fully debrief until there was no chance of being overheard. They just lay there entangled in each other's warmth until they both fell easily to sleep.

Unfortunately, not everyone had so easy a rest. The ranchers for one, had decided that afternoon, after their break brought a fresh bout of determination, that they wouldn't sleep until they both had a goat horn. They were confident in their resolve this time, nothing could bring it down. Less interruptions from people. That’s what they’d decided they needed. And a rest, which they’d gotten, and for the day to cool a bit, which it had.

So, well rested and with nobody else around, they finally had the time to get their horns. And they were so close! So many times! It was exciting until Tango actually managed to dive out of the way in time and the goat hit the wall.

It’s horn stayed firmly on its head.

“Oh no it didn’t work!” Jimmy cried as he made over to Tango, offering him a hand up. He sighed and took it, shaking his head, “That was definitely it.”

“So what do we do?”

He looked to Tango like he might have the answers. Somehow, even after a whole day of him not having the answers, he still thought he might. He certainly had more answers than Jimmy. Right?

He just shook his head again, shrugging helplessly, “I don’t know!”

They looked at each other for a few moments and just burst out laughing, turning away exasperatedly with matching grins.

“We are not good at this.”

-

It was much later in the afternoon by the time they accepted they couldn’t keep just hoping for the best to no avail. The sun had risen high by then and was beating down on them in the goat pen. Jimmy was all out of water and since he had nothing better to do, he offered to go fill up a couple flasks for them from the river below.

Tango made a plan to continue working on the goat pen while he was gone and told him that if he happened to find anyone, he should ask them if they could help.

Jimmy wasn’t sure about that. He was finding it hard to think of someone on the server he could actually go to and ask for help without being mocked, especially (for whatever reason, he still wasn’t sure), about the stupid goat horns.

Still, he kept an eye out as he left, mostly for Tango.

Cleo and Scott hardly slept at all that night. Their whole...situation, had been exacerbated again. This time by Scar. And it had lead to an exhausting sleepless night.

It had all started when Cleo had been heading across their bridge and ran headlong into Scar who stumbled a little and grabbed the railing of the bridge, very nearly falling right over the edge before straightening up and making pointed eye contact, brightening up at the sight of her, “Hello Cleo!”

“Hi Scar,” they tried to muster energy but really just wanted to go home, “How’re you doing?”

“So,” he put a hand on their arm, nodding at them determinedly, that enticing salesman’s smile firmly in place, “I have something.”

Oh dear. Cleo squinted suspiciously at him. Fully aware they were about to get scammed.

“I have something funny. Alright, you’re separated from your partner right?”

They scoffed exasperatedly, gesturing out over the edge of the bridge, “Well, he’s building a heart in the middle of the ravine so…”

For Scar, apparently, that was enough of a confirmation. He hoisted up a bucket Cleo suddenly noticed he was carrying with an enticing grin, “Do you wanna torture him?”

Cleo just stared blankly, completely taken aback but also slowly realising what was going on.

“And you too Scott!” Scar called over his shoulder and Cleo turned to see their soulmate leaning over his balcony with a sceptical frown that was bordering on angry now, “Did you do that to Pearl?” he demanded, “Were you doing this with Pearl earlier?”

Which was the conclusion Cleo had come to as well.

“Oh, I uh- y- uh no!” Scar spluttered, shaking his head with an incredulous laugh. Scott knew this wasn’t him actually trying to convince them. He’d seen Scar lying when he actually wanted them to believe him and it was seamless. It didn’t pass Scott’s rather ingrained lie-detecting. But it was certainly more put together than his current bumbling, faux seriousness, shaking his head.

“I- I haven’t seen Pearl.”

Scott and Cleo made eye contact, knowing looks in both their eyes.

“Yes.” Scott tutted as Cleo mumbled, “Yeah, you have.”

“Noooo,” Scar insisted, moving past Cleo and up to Scott’s balcony.

“Cos I was feeling a certain amount of pain that felt kinda like freezing or cacti.

Scar glanced around at the sky like he’d noticed something fascinating there, “No, no that sounds- that sounds weird. Weird. No I wouldn’t- no this is new.”

He dumped the bucket onto the balcony and kicked it over, letting it spill out onto the wooden planks, “I just found this. This is fresh snow.”

It really didn’t look like fresh snow, all muddied and with chunks of grass in it. But Scar wasn’t actually trying to convince him anyway.

“Ohh, okay.” Scott nodded as if he was entirely convinced, rolling his eyes at Cleo and turning back to Scar, shuffling into the veritable pillar of snow he was making. “So if I stand in it, it’ll-”

“Yeah, yeah!” Scar beamed excitedly, making frantic beckoning motions, “Fresh snow, just get in there yeah, definitely doesn’t smell like Pearl.”

It definitely did, Scott couldn't help but notice. The cold hit him in an unexpected shock. He didn’t know how Scar kept it quite so cold but it prickled at his skin, cutting instantly through his clothes and feeling like it seeped into his bones. He shivered instinctively, cheeks flushing with the sudden intense chill.

“Let’s finally give Pearl a taste of her own medicine,” he mumbled bitterly.

“Come on Cleo!” Scar was calling enthusiastically to them as they lingered by the staircase, eyebrows creased in concern and eyes quietly calculating. “Come on, get inside too!” Scott didn’t meet her gaze, sure it  would be disapproving. But then they sighed and made forward, clambering into the pile in a rather more dignified fashion than Scar who half fell dramatically into the pile and immediately grinned. “This is so fun!”

“I think I gave her a fright when I did it earlier because I- I fell at the same time,” Scott explained through teeth beginning to chatter. Scar nodded thoughtfully but said nothing, still refusing to confirm he’d been with her. A smart move if an obvious one.

“I’m backing out of this,” Cleo shook their head as the cold started to sting, brushing snow off of their clothes and taking several steps away. “I can’t. I can’t.”

“No, no!” Scar beckoned them back, assuring, “It’s perfectly safe. Come on, Cleo, get back in. Plenty of room.”

“Her partner’s going to the deep dark,” Scott shrugged, though it took more effort than he should as his discomfort was quickly turning into a sharp biting pain and a deep ache below the surface. Like the cold was wrapping around him, pressing him in. 

“Really?” Scar frowned at them, wondering why on earth her partner would do that. What did he want to get killed? It was Martyn wasn’t it? Probably did, the lunatic.

“I actually can barely move,” Scott groaned.

“I’m gonna go till I can’t feel my fingers,” Scar mused, as if he were discussing what he was gonna have for dinner, “Then I’m not gonna torture him anymore.”

Scott couldn’t decide what made it more disturbing, thinking about this as torture or self-harm. Both, he supposed. Neither were good options.

A few more minutes passed in silence, Scar whistling absent-mindedly to himself. Scott felt his skin going pale and stiff. This couldn’t be good. Could he actually die from this? He supposed he could give himself frostbite.

“That’s enough,” Scar gasped, crawling out of the snow and pressing his back against Scott’s railing, waggling his fingers, trying to get feeling back into them.

Scott followed suit, dragging his aching bones out of the snow and wondering if the ache he’d woken with that morning was actually from Pearl and her snow shenanigans, not him.

“Okay, I actually feel like I’m gonna die,” he wheezed, light-headedness overcoming him and forcing him to sit. He pressed his back against the wall, forcing his grasping hand away from his food. “I’m just gonna see if, Pearl will help or not.”

But heat tingled at his skin in no time and the arguably more warming sensation of food in his stomach told him he’d won. “She’s eating. Pearl ate.”

The three of them laughed, the sound far too genuinely full of amusement for what they were actually laughing about.

Scar left, though not without trying to casually steal Scott's stonecutter. The two of them spent the rest of the day apart, working on their houses mostly.

As the sun set, they met up in the middle of the bridge, sitting on the ledge, legs swinging into the abyss and watching the fading gradiant of the sky.

“Okay,” Scott tutted, leaning back a little bit with a yawn, "That horn does sound like it came over from Jimmy and that, which is annoying.”

“Well now you know what he’s got,” Cleo shrugged, “Once you figure out which one it is, you can stop responding to it.” They laughed at their own genius, “That’d drive him up a wall.”

Scott’s mouth hung open and he turned to Cleo with a massive grin, “Ohhhh myyy goood!”

They were a genius. That would drive Jimmy up every wall. And then he’d probably jump off it. Having spent all that time to get a horn, because everyone knew it wasn’t about the horn. It was about being excluded. And to have spent days now getting a horn, trading his cows away and all sorts, just to have it mean nothing. To be excluded all over again. Scott knew he was probably a really bad person for the thought of that to be quite so exciting to him. He wasn’t sure why he wanted Jimmy to suffer the way he did, he just couldn’t help it.

He jumped to his feet, clapping his hands giddily and grabbing his sword from where he’d abandoned it next to him, tucking it back into his belt, “I’m gonna go find out if he has a different one and if he does, I’ll go tell everyone not to respond to that.”

Cleo, the amazing soulmate that they were, just nodded enthusiastically, calling, “Go! Go, go, go!”

“Okay,” he ran off down the bridge, waving goodbye to Cleo who just laughed at how goddamn obsessed Scott still was with Jimmy, even if not in the way he’d once been.

Grian didn’t come home that night. Scar tried not to think of how few other soulmates on the server probably hadn’t seen their soulmates all day. Just him, he’d imagine. And maybe Pearl. He lay awake, staring at the moon. Maybe it would be for the best to take her up on her offer. To just run off into the night, find himself a red skin as well and terrorise the server for his heartbreak. Maybe that would show Grian. But he couldn’t. And he already knew he wouldn’t.

No matter how it burned him, no matter how angry and hurt and miserable he was, no matter that the night came and it left him all over again.

He couldn’t run off into the night, without missing the sun.

Jimmy made his way down the cliff face carefully, all too aware that the sun was setting and it was a bit too late to be out really. Especially on his yellow life. Okay, cliff face was probably an exaggeration, he had found a place where it was more just a steep hill. Still, he was stumbling and slipping halfway down, dirt scraping out from under his feet as he shrieked and gasped and yelled, “Oh my gosh!”

Eventually he made it to the bottom, heartrate spiralling and fiercely panting.

He calmed a little as he started filling the flasks, from a part of the river that was flowing aggressively enough that it was probably fine to drink. But it was when he noticed Pearl beside him that his thinking finally took a turn away from ‘everything is horrible’.

At first he thought she might also be getting water, white shirt splashed with water and sleeves rolled up to her elbows, leaning over in the water. But then she stood up and he noticed what looked like the remains of a cow bone in her hand, meat still clinging around the outside. She was wandering around the river bed, wading into the riverbed a little, clicking and calling ‘dog, dog, dog’ into the air.

Jimmy paused in stuffing the flasks back into his pack, staring at Pearl with a perplexed frown. What was she doing? She looked crazy, wandering around, yelling into the air.

“Pearrrrl,” he called tentatively, watching as she spun around with a dazed look in her eye that quickly turned to blatant fear, “Huh wha- what? oh!” she caught sight of Jimmy and a smile broke out across her face, lighting it up but not quite dissolving that dazed glassiness of her eyes. “Hi! What’s going on Jimmy?” She waded toward him, grabbing her pack from where it was abandoned on the bank. Jimmy couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it earlier, especially with the bright red cloak draped across it.

His concern increased as she began to wrap up the bone carefully and washed her hands in the water. But she was nice, non-judgemental for the most part, as far as he knew. He had to admit he didn’t know her that well. But she seemed a decent bet.

“Have you got a-“ he paused, watching her absent-mindedly pull the red cloak over her shoulders and stuff the packaged bone into her pack. He leant against the cliff face, aiming for casual and unbothered. If he let on how much he cared, she might act like Grian and Scott and all the others and try to keep him from getting one just for the fun of it.

“Have you got a goat horn?”

Pearl grinned up from her pack, retrieving a hand with a horn clasped in it and maintained eye contact with him the entire time as she brought it to her lips, the crisp sound bringing a cacophony of the same deep melodic notes, echoing down into the ravine.

“Right. Alright.” Jimmy gritted his teeth, trying to pretend like he didn’t care. “Secondly, secondly,” but the cacophony continued and he doubted Pearl could even hear him anyway, “Oh my god- secondly!”

Pearl laughed but the sound was hollow and oddly bitter. There was definitely something…off about her. But right now, she was the ranchers only hope. Or their best hope certainly.

“Can you help me and Tango get one?” his voice was tentative, as if offering food to a wild dog. That was what Pearl reminded him of right now. A wild dog on the hunt, that glassy eyed vacant stare, fixated on the middle distance, on some unknown prey, “Like, we’ve got the goats but we just can’t get them to crash into us and drop em.”

“Ohhhh,” Pearl shrugged on her pack, nodding thoughtfully.

“Could you help?”

“I-I could…” she paused, eyes finally fading in from the middle distance and fixing on him with an unnerving, almost hungry expression, “Well in exchange for one thing.”

“A spyglass?” It was really all he had to offer in terms of trade. Maybe cows but him and Tango really didn’t want to give those out too easily and they’d already traded some cows for these stupid fucking horns.

“That…wasn’t quite what I had in mind.” In a moment she had the package out again, holding it out to Jimmy as way of some explanation, “I just wanna know the location of a dog.”

Yep. That made sense. He probably could have guessed that  from the way she’d been calling ‘dog’ into the abyss. And her breezy detached manner had taken a hard right into a needy desperate, manic energy.

“I-” Jimmy took a tentative step back, almost afraid to break the news to her. She seemed so invested. In absolutely nothing. “Unfortunately I don’t know where a dog is, no.”

And just like that, it was as if all the energy drained away. In an instant. Her shoulders slumped, her eyes downcast, her packaged bone was ferreted away into her pack and she shook her head with a sigh as the vacant gaze clouded her eyes again, “Oh. Sad times.”

Then after a few awkwardly silent moments between them, only the rush of the river in their ears, she chimed up.

“I do need food though; do you have food?”

That wasn’t cows. But it was the specialty of the ranchers.

“We have so much food.”

-

“Oh we have an expert,” Tango cried excitedly, ushering Pearl in. There was something about the way she drifted, steps meandering and arms swinging by her side. She gave him an empty sort of smile. He was too excited to care at the time but noted in retrospect when Jimmy shared his concerns.

“Hiii!” she grinned, clasping her hands behind her back and glancing around, “Yeah I got you, hi. I know how to do the goat thingy.” The two of them nodded enthusiastically as she leant against the wall, folding her arms. “I just need a little bit of food.”

Jimmy gave Tango a pointed look and he held up a finger in a ‘wait here’ type of gesture before ducking inside and flinging open several chests looking for the right one.

He returned with two packages of steaks, one raw and the other cooked. Pearl lit up, taking it eagerly with an exuberant gasp. “Oh that’s so much!” She immediately unwrapped the cooked one, taking a huge bite and letting the juice dribble down her cheek. Tango just laughed but Jimmy was noticing. Those eys, focused on nothing but the food, the way her hands were shaking. “I’m so hungry,” she groaned, tucking the rest of the meat into her pack and abandoning it by the wall, only keeping one piece of steak to munch on as she headed over to the goat pen.

She didn’t laugh, which Jimmy appreciated but she did stop in her tracks and smirk.

“Okay, so first off…this ain’t gonna work.”

-

There was much discussion and amendments to the pen. Wood, for starters, absolutely wasn’t going to work, they just needed a slightly harder type of stone than they’d been using. Fucking Joel. They needed to extend the pen a bit and she tried to give them pointers on how to get the goats to attack them but neither of them were very good learners. Pearl sat on the top of the fence, watching their efforts with a frown as they dived, covered in scrapes and bruises by now.

“How long have you been doing this?” She raised a sceptical eyebrow at Tango while Jimmy dived out of another goats path but got hit into the floor instead. Tango sighed through a laugh, shrugging with a sheepish smile, “Maybe a few hours, maybe all day.”

Pearl's eyes widened exasperatedly and she laughed, jumping into the pen.

“Do you want me to try?” she offered, putting a hand on Jimmy’s shoulder and steering him toward the gate, “See if we can get one to charge me maybe?”

“Yes please!” Jimmy ran out of the way, nodding fervently. “Yes please!”

“Okay,” she pulled her red cloak from around her shoulders, holding it in one hand. Tango raised a sceptical eyebrow and she shrugged. He was finding it hard to believe she knew what she was doing when all her demeanour was like she was making it up as she went along. She stared at one particular goat, laser focused but still strangely zoned out, “Come on goaty woos.”

She flapped the red fabric intensely at the goat, like it might charge like a bull. Neither of the ranchers was actually sure if that would work and for a few moments, none of them seemed interested. But then- well neither was exactly sure what happened. Maybe she got a little too close, or just caught their attention, but one of the goats lowered its head and shot at her, lightening quick the way they were.

And just as Jimmy’s heart leapt thinking she was almost certainly going to get severely hurt, she leapt out  of the way, slamming into the opposite fence as there was a crunching sound and the goat bleated in pain, staggering backward, leaning to its right a little bit with the unevenness of its horns.

She bent down and scooped the horn off the floor, holding it out to the two of them as Tango stared, throwing his hands around as he screamed, “First try! She gets it, she gets it in eight seconds WHAT IS HAPPENING?! Are you kidding me?”

Jimmy just jumped up and down giddily squealing, “Chuck it here, chuck it here, chuck it here!”

Pearl handed It over with  grin, leaning back against the wall. “There you go.”

The horn felt heavy in his hand, smooth and fitting and just so…right. He was part of the horn gang. Perhaps it was heavy with the weight of the implication, that someone actually wanted to help him, that not everyone hated him and he was finally, finally included. And void, was that an exhilarating feeling.

“Listen, wait,” he turned to Tango with a grin he just couldn’t help, “Wait, wait!”

For all the frustratingly strong feelings Jimmy had when things went wrong. He got overwhelmingly strong feelings of joy and wonderment when things went right. He couldn’t decide and neither could Tango, watching his soulmate avidly blow the horn, whether that was a good thing or not. But it certainly made him different, in a world full of veiled emotions and calculated apathy.

The rest of the horns sounded cheerfully in response, chiming and buzzing, tone and pitch varied but all for the same length, a veritable cacophony.

Jimmy squealed, shaking his hands and jumping up and down.

“Yesss!” Tango screamed, matching in his energy as much as he could muster.

Jimmy was beside himself ecstatic, unable to stop moving, grabbing his hair and beaming, “People are responding to me!!” he squealed, redundantly but so full of energy and enthusiasm no-one cared.

“Right we need one more for Tango,” he turned to Pearl with a pointed look, “We need one more.”

Tango put a hand on his soulmate’s shoulder, pushing him back gently. Pearl had sacrificed a fair amount of her day to helping them now after all.

“OH my god, Pearl you’re amazing!” he gushed, because he entirely believed it and also to give incentive for her to follow through with Jimmy’s demands of more horns. “How’d you do that in like literally three seconds?”

She just laughed appreciatively, tucking her hair behind her ears with a shrug, “I got lucky…”

She pressed her cloak into Jimmy’s hands with a nod at the goats and made for the gate. Tango didn’t blame her if she wanted to leave at this point, she’d more than fulfilled her contract. The sun was sinking toward the horizon and she lived quite a way away. It was probably for the best to move on now and besides, him and Jimmy could share a horn right?

“Genius,” Tango called after her and she threw a wink over her shoulder. He laughed, turning back to his soulmate who was desperately flapping the cloak around, badly imitating Pearl.

Tango left him to it, sensing no amount of convincing could deter him from his resolve to get his soulmate a horn of his own. So they could both have one. It was really very sweet of him.

He was meaning to go outside and talk to Pearl about how she was doing, how she was handling breaking up with Scott.

Instead, he went outside the pen and found Pearl piling ice from a bucket she’d abandoned in the shade with her things onto her skin, watching the distance with a consumed gaze.

“Are you just…sitting freezing?” Tango laughed, morbidly curious. He was watching the way she was twitching under the ice, still not moving her eyes an inch from…Ah. She was watching Scott in the distance who was standing on the balcony of his house, silhouetted against the light of the sinking sun.

Pearl just laughed manically and Tango backed up into the pen. He wanted no part in whatever weird shit was going on between them.

And just a moment after he turned inside, Jimmy clambered to his feet from underneath the goat that now had neither horn and looked a lot more settled for the balance.

“Dude, dude! I got it! I got it!” He ran toward Tango, throwing his arms around him and squeezing him so tight he thought he might run out of air. He gave a pathetic little, “Oh nice!” that came out quite squeaky and made Jimmy release him with a sheepish grin.

“I did it!” he panted, thrusting the horn into Tango’s hand and holding up his own, “Let’s do it together, three two one…”

Tango wasn’t ready and honestly didn’t know how to make the horn make a sound, so his was slightly after Jimmy’s but he couldn’t help beaming when they made the same high crisp sound out into the world and the cacophony of much deeper sounds returned.

Jimmy squealed, jumping up and down again as Tango just laughed, turning the goat horn over in his hands. The smooth surface was somewhat satisfying. Oddly soft despite its polished look.

“Tango we did it!” Jimmy pulled him into another hug and Tango nodded, humming in a way he’d meant to be affectionately exasperated. But his soulmate pulled away from his with an expression that was more genuinely abashed than amusedly sheepish.

“We did it,” he muttered, slightly quieter and with a little less manic enthusiasm, glancing at the floor. Tango took his cheek in one hand, wiping off a patch of dirt and tilting his chin up so they were eye to eye. He gave his best reassuring smile. He didn’t know how to express in words that he loved every part of Jimmy. The breaking down crying because he wasn’t part of the horn club, the spending days trying to join and the wildly over the top giddy joy that accompanied him finally seeing his goal come to fruition. He didn’t know how to convince the man standing before him that he didn’t need to tone himself down for Tango. He could just be him. Completely, beautifully him. And that was enough.

It was everything he needed, and far more than he deserved.

Once Jimmy calmed down a little, sitting next to Tango on the fence to the goat pen, he actually acknowledged Pearl, who had scooped her ice back into its bucket and was packing her things.

“Pearl, thank you so much for your help,”

She shrugged, taking her cloak from him and wrapping it tightly around her shoulders, still slightly shivering from the ice.

“Yep, Pearl you’re the best,” Tango agreed absent-mindedly, resting his head on Jimmy’s shoulder, tired from the effort of the day’s escapades.

But she was already halfway to the wall, turning back to give a silly little shrug, waving them away, “Aw, no worries.”

And the two of them watched  as she swung the gate open, swaggering out with her hair swinging side to side and her cloak whipping at the grass.

The ranchers just sat there on the fence, happy beyond measure, watching the moon rise.

Chapter Text

The night had a creeping cold about it. Scott saw her across the way, like a beacon in the dark, moon beams bouncing off her smile, red cloak whipping in the wind.

His heart leapt in earnest fear, and he wasn’t sure why.

He made his way carefully across the plains, grass scratching at his legs as he made cautiously toward her. He calmed his heart with steadying breaths as best he could, trying to act casual as she caught sight of him and stopped dead in her tracks. She looked even worse closer up, dishevelled, with a mad glassy look in her eye. She wasn’t carrying anything but a bucket of snow, swinging in one hand.

“Oh hi Pearl,” he grinned forcedly.

“HI Scott,” she cooed, swaying slightly on the spot while her gaze darted about and carefully setting down the snow, “Did you enjoy your little tickle. Was that ticklish?”

Scott was reminded harshly of how childish she could be sometimes, in a creepy horror movie doll kind of a way. He felt a shiver down his spine and wondered if it was the biting wind, or Pearl’s unblinking gaze or just the lingering effects of how the two of them had spent the day. Either way, he rolled his eyes, well over her theatrics.

 “Did you enjoy your little ice bath as well?”

“I did!” she beamed, eyes still fixed on Scott as he moved tentatively toward her, “Did you?”

She honestly didn’t know where she stood with him. They seemed to be on the same page in terms of torturing each other and he’d been in the most pain this week, so maybe they were even. But then again, she wouldn’t put it past Scott to hold the grudge past when it was reasonable, past when it was fair. She’d always thought he was someone better to have on side.

Now she was experiencing the other side.

“I did,” he laughed through gritted teeth “Cos Scar brought it over for me to do to you at the same time.”

Pearl couldn’t help but feel slightly betrayed. She knew it was foolish to expect Scar to only profit off her side of her divorce and no-one else’s. It was little more than a sales pitch for him and she’d known that. But she’d gotten all excited about having someone to relate to, someone who cared about her. A tower neighbour. Stupid really.

“Mhm,” she nodded, gazing at the horizon, Scott’s bright beacon of a house illuminated against the dark sky. “I know, I know.”

The two of them stood several metres apart, glaring each other down across the grass, the darkness crowding in around them. As if daring each other to get any closer, to be the first to bridge the gap.

“Why’re you wearing red already?” Scott muttered eventually, begrudgingly making forward. “You’re still green!”

He didn’t particularly want to be at odds with Pearl. He oddly missed her, despite everything. He wanted to make things right he just needed her to step up quite a bit if they were going to be soulmates. She didn’t have six lives this season, they had three. Between them. So basically one and a half. She couldn’t wander about, kicking at the dirt and throwing out empty threats. Going to the nether, following people like Martyn. She needed to acknowledge how important safety was in these games and he just couldn’t see her doing that at the moment.

She took a step back, folding in on herself, gaze hardening, “Because my heart’s broken Scott.”

Which was probably intended to make him feel guilty but just made him laugh. Like she could claim that after abandoning him last week.

He shrugged, finding it really hard to care about how he’d made Pearl feel. “Oh, now you know how it feels.”

Pearl was fuming, anger overwhelming her mind until she couldn’t think straight, couldn’t even notice how unbothered Scott in front of her was because it infuriated her too much. Did he seriously think they were even?? She hadn’t even done anything wrong! She’d just been vibing, having a good time with Martyn and he’d abandoned her, taken everything she cared about with him and left her with nothing.

“You ditched me!” she screamed, her hair falling out of its place tucked behind her ears and crowding at her vision, “Martyn left me!”

She needed him to understand! To realise he’d wronged her and just- she didn’t even know. Apologise, something.

“now you know how it feels!” he repeated instead, punctuating every word with an aggressive clap in the direction of his soulmate while tears sprung to her eyes.

“Tilly died! My dog died!”

Scott faltered a little, taking a step back and pressing his lips into a line. “Tilly died?” he questioned quietly.

“Yes she did.”

Pearl matched his volume, trying to keep her blubbering out of her voice, angry and tough was what she was going for.

“Oh.”

He tutted, fiddling with his sleeve before shrugging, glancing up at her with a smile that was almost apologetic, “That one I do give you my condolences.”

“Was gonna say Scott,” she scoffed, staring off into the distance, “Jeez,” shaking her head like the wind might blow away her tears, “Heartless bastard.”

He said nothing for a few moments, watching the ranchers jumping about in the distance. He wasn’t surprised about Pearl’s dog. It somewhat explained her rather self-degrading behaviour with the snow. Perhaps it was just as much about torturing herself as torturing him. He knew how invested Pearl got with dogs. He’d seen it for himself last season. But she’d have another one within the day.

“Do you wanna know what else is bad?” he turned back to her and her head jerked up, tears staining her cheeks. He didn’t mention it. “I think, has Jimmy got a horn or have you got the new horn?”

Pearl frowned, glancing over at the ranch, “Uh, I got both of them the horn essentially. They’ve both got a horn now.”

Scott froze, closing his eyes exasperatedly and then widening them at Pearl, “What- you gave them…?”

Why had everyone forgotten that they didn’t want Jimmy to get a horn? Seriously no-one was as committed to this as he was. Save perhaps Grian.

“No, I taught them how to get the goats to drop it.”

As if that was any better. They still had one.

“Why would you- why would you do that?” He groaned, throwing his hands up irritably, “That was the one goal of the series Pearl was for no-one to ever give Jimmy a horn.”

She said nothing, staring at him with a single eyebrow raised and an expression that was largely unbothered save for the slight tilt of her head in concern. For him.

He straightened, folding his arms and rolling his eyes. He wasn’t angry. He didn’t care. He didn't need her concern.

Pearl blew her horn into the night and the racket of returning sounds blasted in Scott’s ears. Including the high-pitched buzz of the new sound coming from Jimmy and Tango’s.

“Is that Jimmy’s horn?” he asked, tone full of resentment that wasn’t really meant for Pearl so much as for Jimmy. Though she had helped him. “Is it the same sound? I’m trying to figure out what Jimmy’s sound is and then we just never respond to Jimmy’s.”

Pearl rolled her eyes at his pettiness, his obsession. It was so utterly Scott. Once she might have found that endearing. Tonight, she found it frustrating. “It is exactly the same sound, yes.”

“Okay,” he nodded thoughtfully, “I’m gonna have to go round and spread the news that when that one goes off we never reply to it.”

“Okay.”

Why did Scott care more about Jimmy and his fucking horn than about her. Why did he have so much energy to put into that and none into helping her or just not taking damage all the bloody time. Staying safe.

“That’s the rule Pearl,” he insisted, grinning and laughing through his words.

Sure, whatever. Why’d it matter? Why was he telling her? As if she was going to care or listen to him. If he wanted her in on his joke, maybe he should have her in on his alliance. Gaslight, gatekeep, go away wasn’t gonna last.

Scott stared into the distance, watching Jimmy and Tango, arms all over each other, swaying slightly in their walk as they made inside. His stomach curled in on itself and he turned back to Pearl with a tut and a glare.

Her hands flung up in defence, taking a step backward but still laughing, “They traded me food okay, I was hungry.” Then she hardened her teasing smile into a glare, “Cause you keep taking hits this week! What have you been doing?”

“What do you mean I-” Scott felt his defensiveness rile up with her yelling and before he knew it, he was matching her volume, “Meee? What, have I been in pain?”

“Yes!” she shrieked, sounding positively barmy.

“You’re the one purposefully getting in frozen ice buckets!” he gestured angrily, taking a few steps forward that she matched without a moment’s hesitation.

“You did that to me!”

“I did that after!!”

Both their voices burned with the effort of screaming, fists clenched and eyes locked on one another’s gaze like a silent oath not to look away. They were really quite close now and Scott could smell Tilly’s blood still soaked into Pearl’s cloak. She could see the cut Jimmy had given him, still healing right across his nose.

It could have been an understanding moment. But neither were in an understanding mood. It was late after all, moon drowning the plains in sickly light and stars making every effort to twinkle just as bright.

“Nope,” Pearl shook her head, sweeping herself away and hunkered down in the grass. “Scott, you’ve taken…”

“To be fair,” he sighed, untying his jumper from around his waist and pulling it on. It really was cold out. “I’ve been taking lots of little damage-”

That was enough to shatter Pearl’s glass resolve to petulantly ignore him and she whipped around, glaring up at him as he continued rambling, “It’s because I’m building-look you can see my house up- up there,” he gestured into the distance, still not noticing Pearl’s anger, “I’ve been jumping off…”

 “Little?!” Pearl shouted over him, full of burning fury.

Scott frowned for a minute and then his face relaxed into a smile, “Ohhhh, yeah no,” he laughed. He laughed. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how pissed off he would have been if when he’d been confronting her she’d laughed. He would have called her mad. They both would have.

“Me and Cleo hit each other with axes earlier this week to screw with you and Martyn.” He shrugged, not even apologetically, just casually. He just didn’t care. He was having a go at her for not caring, look at him. She cared more than he did at this point. She wasn’t the way he was, where she could just detach herself from something and stop giving a shit about it. She loved Scott and that wasn’t something she could change in an instant, even when she was downright furious at him.

Apparently, that feeling wasn’t reciprocated. She wasn’t even sure the love was anymore. And now she was wondering if it ever was.

She clambered to her feet, drained of all the angry energy that had been there a moment ago.

“You did that twice or something,” she grumbled, “Cos I swear I’ve been in serious pain like twice this week.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Scott nodded like they were organising an event or something, working out logistics. “We did it earlier this week and then you were annoying me with the ice bucket thing so I got Cleo to do it again.”

“Mhm, mhm,” Pearl shrugged, grabbing her bucket of snow, swinging it back and forth again, “I’m not afraid to do this. I can do this many more times, you know,” she raised her eyebrows, grinning creepily and pointed a warning finger at him, “Don’t push it.”

“Go on,” Scott took a daring step forward, gesturing decidedly at the bucket, “Put it down, we’ll both get in.”

“I will put it down!” she yelled, never one to step away from a challenge, even if it killed her. She tipped it out between them and stepped forward into the cold that Scott instantly felt stinging at his skin. She looked properly mad now. “Come on!”

And Scott wasn’t one to back down from a challenge either. Especially not when he was the one that set it. He stepped in after her, pressing it in behind him so they were both firmly in place, surrounded by the sharp pain of the snow that stung just a little more than it should have. “Okay, there we go.”

He could feel the heat of Pearl just inches away from him, her foot swinging back and forth occasionally kicking his shin. But even after only a few moments in the snow, he could hardly feel it. The pain numbed with his extremities and the ache began to settle in his bones. He’d been doing this for several minutes with Scar. He could already tell something was very, very wrong.

He met Pearl’s gaze and the two of them held it there, searching each other’s eyes for something, some indication of an apology, something they could latch onto to move forward. But there was nothing in Pearl’s eyes. They were glassy, empty but also somehow far deeper than eyes should be, the way Scott felt sometimes looking in Grian of Martyn’s eyes, like there was something behind them. Something that wasn’t her at all. Like a window to the void.

And all Pearl could see in Scott’s eyes was concern she wrote off as needless fear of freezing.

And so their gaze both hardened to glares, daring each other out of the snow, to back away, to chicken out first. Both desperately trying to prove they had the power.

Scott couldn’t feel Pearl’s heat anymore; the snow wasn’t melting. Her skin was turning pale, making her eyes look wider and madder and even more out of place. The cold was getting worse, he was sure of it, sending shudders throughout his body, hands twitching against their loss of sense and movement. A cold chill ran through his heart and he was sure it’s determined beating was slowing.

Still, he glared Pearl down, waiting for that twisted smile to drop. Waiting for her to get out. The two of them laughed in equal delirium, refusing to look away, refusing to step out even as their eyelids drooped and the world began to spin and they could hardly breathe from the excruciating bone deep pain.

Through his weakened lethargic state, Scott had just enough energy left to be shocked in Pearl’s tolerance. Last season, he would have won this in the first two moments. But somehow, as he winced and groaned, desperately fighting every instinct telling him to leave, she swayed slightly on the spot, grinning and laughing like a lunatic.

Scott was stubborn, sure. But he wasn’t mad.

He forced his aching, burning body to move and scrambled backwards into the grass, staring in horror at the blackened tips of his fingers and fierce with anger at the triumphant smile on Pearl’s face even as the excruciating cold followed him. She stayed there for several moments as he lay in awful pain, shivering on the grass, the air not quite reaching his skin.

“Get out!” he screamed, leaving no room for even Pearl, with whatever was going on right now, to question it. She took several steps backward, making out of the snow and collapsing into the grass.

She was still laughing.

Clearly, something had broken in Pearl’s brain. And if he had to be tied to a mad woman so be it but that would mean he had to step up and be responsible for the two of them. To somehow protect her, make sure she didn’t get herself killed.

This wasn’t giving up. It was signing up.

While Martyn had generally given up on winning Cleo over with a whole pack full of iron, he hadn’t given up on the concept as a whole, of being the most kitted out. And if he was going to the deep dark, he was going to need all the armour, all the tools he could get.

Besides that, he was actually looking for the deep dark itself. Not that, in several hours of mining, he’d gotten anywhere close to finding it. What he had found was a massive and not particularly resourceful cave that definitely wasn’t worth the effort it had taken to get to it.

Thankfully, the universe decided to bless him just as he was begrudgingly considering the unfortunate reality of having to dig his way all the way out (he’d long since gotten lost) just for it to probably be night on the surface. He noticed a staircase made of stone, less than a meter thick, rather precariously leading up to a tunnel into the roof of the cave that also looked vaguely staircase shaped. “Oh thank void,” he muttered to himself, the sound far too loud in the deathly silence of the cave.

Somebody had made a staircase. Somebody had already been here. He never thought he was getting out of this darn cave. His knees burned with the effort after mining all day but he still had the energy to pull out his horn for a response as they all sounded, muffled but still remarkably audible all the way down in the cave.

He yelped as he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder and stumbled forward. His heart jolted and his stomach dropped as for a split second he was freefalling, suddenly noticing how far down the drop was from this bloomin staircase. Then his hand gripped the side of the staircase and he hit the stone with a shaking breath.

“Oh void, no, no, no, no.” He mumbled frantically as he scrambled to his feet, struggling the last few meters to the cave walls as his shoulder seared with pain.

He winced through his relief as he pressed his back against the wall, staring down into the dark abyss below the staircase.

That was very nearly a death. He didn’t know if he would have reacted quick enough to do anything about it if he’d fallen and he was pretty certain that the fall would have done him in.

It had been an arrow, presumably from a skeleton down in the depths that had hardly grazed his shoulder really. But enough to catch him off guard, enough to knock him. Enough to potentially doom him to fall to his death. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how dying to a stupid mistake like that would anger Cleo. Best not to dwell.

A quick bandage job of the wound and he was off on his way up the staircase. He made slow progress, tired and weary, in a decent amount of pain and honestly just wanting to go to bed. It must have been a few more minutes before he saw a torch up ahead, frowning and creeping a little slower, trying to determine foe or friend.

Utterly forgetting that everyone was still green and there was no boogeyman.

He caught a flash of fluttering red feathers in the torch light and was just about to come to the remarkable conclusion that it must be Grian when his voice echoed around the tunnel.

“I must be nearly out of this cave,” he groaned as he swung his pickaxe reluctantly for what must’ve been the millionth time mining this stupid bloody staircase.

-

Grian had come down to find diamonds. Not only had he not accomplished that, well not nearly as much as he’d like, he’d spent what must be hours now, digging, just to get back to the surface. He was alone, he was caught up in all his own thoughts. He hated it. He needed to be doing, he needed to be busy. He kept thinking about the future and the games, he kept thinking about everyone else and how bloody happy they seemed.

He kept thinking about Scar.

Who, by the way, had been in pain just consistently for minutes at a time, sharp stinging, tingling pain that made him want to crawl out of his skin, shuddering and wincing. Not ideal conditions for being in a place where you needed to have your guard up perpetually.

This man is gonna kill me, he’d been thinking to himself just a few minutes before he found the fucking deep dark. Maybe they were slightly even. Because as good as he told himself he was going to be. As terrified as he was, as much as he wanted to run away…

He couldn’t stop himself. Maybe it was the Watcher in him, desperately seeking the constant entertainment, maybe it was just who he was; a thrill-seeking adrenalin junkie menace of a man. Maybe he more than slightly wanted to get back at Scar.

Either way, he hadn’t lasted long. The freaky shadows cast by glowing blue light and material even more distinctly uncanny than the rest of the world. The whispers of danger in the walls, the scent of deep ancient magic in the air.

He needed distraction, craved entertainment and wanted revenge. But not that much.

He also didn’t know anything about how deep darks worked. He didn’t know what was safe, he didn’t know how far into the city he could go. He didn’t want to deal with the warden, he just wanted some diamonds! Should he tell Timmy and Tango that right under their base was an ancient city?

Well, it was definitely the Watcher in him that decided to just tell people where it was and see how it all played out.

But it had been hours since all of that, the adrenalin had all worn off and he was just mindlessly chipping away at a tunnel. Not only was it dull, there was a voice in his mind, a cacophony of voices more like, that he had grown somewhat accustomed to the presence of. Saying this wasn’t entertaining enough.

He was well and truly ready to be out of the dark.

-

“Oh thank void somebody else is here…”

Grian shrieked, jumping for the roof, hitting his head, pain flying through his wings as they flung out and bashed into the cave wall, his back pressed against the wall. His heartrate made a frantic effort to kill him and his scream slowly deteriorated into a yell as he caught sight of Martyn, doubled over with laughter.

“WHAT!” He screamed, throwing his pickaxe at Martyn’s feet just to make him yelp and jump. By no means even payback, “YOU DON’T GET TO DO THAT!”

Martyn threw his hands up in defence but his face was red with laughter now.

“Everyone is inside my head,” Grian screeched, clasping his hands over his ears, his aching wings folding up around him as he shook his head, panic seizing his throat, “I don’t like this,” he cried, trying not to let tears sting his cheeks. Void, he was a mess.

But no-one was screaming in his mind anymore, apparently satisfied and the quiet was insanely relieving. Just Martyn’s laughs, echoing in his ears. He took a deep breath that shook violently and stood, forcing his wings to sit on his back and grabbing his pickaxe aggressively from Martyn’s outstretched hand.

“I have been digging!” he yelled, by way of explanation, excuse, “For thirty minutes!”

He turned away to fiercely continued his effort with the tunnel. He could hear Tango and Jimmy on the surface now, they must be nearly there.

“I actually feel light-headed,” Martyn cackled, still relentlessly laughing.

Grian desperately tried to keep his cool, disguising his sob as a laugh as he cried, “You scared the life out of me,”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.” The closest he’d actually gotten to an apology but he was still laughing, still shaking his head, still grinning like it wasn’t a big deal.

Grian was all too glad when his next strike broke the stone and dirt crumbled into the tunnel. He groaned with relief as moonlight flooded in. It was night time, sure, but it didn’t seem dark at all.

He expanded the hole a little further before pulling himself up, slumping into the grass and watching Martyn follow, bitter that he’d just followed him up the tunnel he’d spent hours digging but trying to let go of such a pointless feeling.

“Oh, I’m free!” he sighed, taking a deep breath of the fresh air and letting a smile settle itself on his tired face.

Martyn still hadn’t stopped laughing.

“I almost got killed by your staircase by the way,” he muttered unhelpfully as he brushed dirt and dust off his absolutely horrific jumpsuit. “There was one skeleton who tried to snipe me off of it just as I was about to get to the safe spot.”

“Oh yeah,” Grian laughed, getting begrudgingly to his feet and glancing over at the spiky fort, wondering if Scar would be asleep by now, surely? “It’s not safe. But I have found the ancient city!” Martyn stared. He grinned, slinging his pack over his shoulder and lying to himself that it was all worth it to make Martyn speechless. “Which is why I decided to come all the way back up here.”

He gasped, standing up straighter and making pointed eye contact with Grian, “Oh my gosh, I literally want to go there today!”

Grian glanced around with a raised eyebrow. The sky was well and truly dark and had that distinct ‘the world is at rest’ feel to it. Everything hushed, as if the fabric of the world was holding its breath, the air still and cooler than the day, especially after the heat of the cave. Timmy and Tango, who’s wall was only meters away, were nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t late evening, or even early morning by his estimate. It was firmly around midnight. Today had well and truly passed. And tomorrow hadn't come.

“Yeah, we should uh,” he shrugged, glancing back at the spiky fort. It wasn’t exactly that he wanted to go home, but he was exhausted, “You go and grab some people and maybe we can…venture into the depths.”

Martyn nodded eagerly, “I’ve already got two guys who are…down for the job!”

Grian vaguely wondered who, and how Martyn already knew but decided he didn’t care that much, shrugging it off and heading in the direction of his base, “Well, I’ll see you maybe mid-day tomorrow how does that sound?”

“Sounds good to me!”

Grian set off home with a heavy heart, everything weighing on his mind. He knew he’d been stupid to break down the way he had in the mine but it was just…

He’d been in his own head, he’d been mining for…goodness knows how long, it was very jarring and very, very scary. It was like someone was speaking inside his brain. It wasn’t nice.

He was greeted immediately by confusion entering the spiky fort when he noticed a horse tied to the fence. Had Scar gotten a horse? Wonderful. Just what they needed was more animals for him to kill people over. Or die over. Or both. Though at least a horse was useful.

He let out a hefty sigh of relief, noticing Scar was already in bed and fast asleep. It made it easier to be with him when he didn’t have to speak to him, to look at all the hurt in those big sad eyes. It was easier to be with Scar when he didn’t have to acknowledge the fact that he was with Scar.

Scott and Pearl lay for several minutes in much worse pain than the actual freezing itself. In the back of his frenzied mind, Scott remembered that about hypothermia and specifically frostbite. Getting warm was often the worst pain of all.

For once, he actually muttered a quiet thanks to the Watchers. For the strange uncanniness of this world that the pain was already fading, warmth already tingling his skin. Despite the blackened tips of his fingers and the deep ache still in his bones.

It wasn’t right. But right now, he didn’t care.

He sat up slowly, taking deep breaths as his heartrate began to rise again, letting air into his lungs.

What in the world did he do to deserve this. Was this his punishment? For defying the Watchers and the bogeyman curse? Were they angry that he’d won? So they’d decided to take away his best friend in the world by sending her into madness? It sounded like something they’d do. Maybe it was just his own justification. Maybe he was just blaming everyone except himself because he knew this was his fault.

“I’ll eat.” He grumbled, scrabbling around for his pack.

“Mhm,” Pearl murmured into the grass, still sprawled out on her back, smiling feverishly at the stars. “You know,” she slurred, tutting as she forced herself to sit up, “I was eating for you soo much last week.”

Scott actually wanted to throw his piece of steak at her head. Seriously? She wanted to call him the reckless one. Right now. After that demonstration?

“No, last week me and Cleo were eating for you because you two were on fire!”

And this week, he was eating for her because she was being crazy and refusing to get out of the snow even when they were literally getting frostbite! How was she still the good guy in her mind?

“I had pork chops,” she scoffed, shaking her head and taking a bite out of her own steak, “I was good. And you just didn’t trust me!”

She was yelling because she wanted to cry. She didn’t think she could hold in the tears if they started coming and she didn’t want Scott to think she was so prone to emotional outbursts. She needed him to think she was a good ally. Crying and blubbering wasn’t the way to do that.

“You were on fire!!” Scott practically sobbed through his yelling, burying his head in his hands.

“Scott, you’re supposed to trust me!” she whined, shaking her head and letting a few tears drip down her cheeks, trying to shake them away, “That’s what soulbounds are for.”

And besides that, he should trust her by now. He should have known she’d be okay. She took care of herself perfectly fine last season whilst also dealing with him, taking care of him. Surely, he knew her well enough to know she wasn’t going to die on him.

“To be fair,” he sighed, dragging his hands down his face, “Up until the end of the session, I didn’t know if I was you or Martyn.” He caught her eye and she pouted, watching him cautiously, “So I couldn’t say that I could trust you because I didn’t know until I got hit by the goat and you giggled and then I realised.

“And then you realised and you still didn’t trust me because you left Scott.” She was standing now, with no recollection of getting to her feet, glaring him down, so full of bitter words and harsh truths he needed to hear. “You left!”

Scott met her gaze for a few moments, his face blank, angry and tired except for the flicker of something in his eyes. Remorse? Concern? Fear?

She couldn’t tell.

“Me and Cleo had already bonded. We spent the entire day running around the server meeting everyone else and you never showed up.”

Just a reiteration of the point he’d made. Me and Cleo had already bonded. They’d all already bonded. Neither one of them, not Cleo, not Scott, thought they could trust her. And that hurt more than she cared to admit.

“You can bond still with more people!” she cried, throwing her hands around in a truly unruly manner that definitely wasn’t convincing him, “It’s fine!”

Scott held her gaze, watching all the desperation in it. Then he sighed and turned away, watching the horizon where Cleo was still sitting on the bridge, legs swinging over the edge, silhouetted against the starry sky.

He did miss it. The three of them. As much as he loved Cleo, there was something…missing, without Pearl there.

He shivered in the evening breeze and was bitterly reminded of the snow just moments before. Something was missing. Pearl wasn’t really there at all. Even now, in her company, he still didn't feel like he was talking to her.

He wanted her back. But he wanted her back. Not whatever she’d become in the weeks he’d been away from her. Maybe he was overreacting but he just couldn’t deal with her right now. With all of this going on.

“It’s gonna take time, Pearl.” He sighed into the night, wondering how in the world the moon and stars learnt to coexist in the dark sky. Maybe that was just part of the uncanniness of this world.

Another thing that wasn’t quite right.

The silence sat heavy between them, neither really acknowledging what he’d said. They both knew deep down it was just procrastination. Just a ‘not today’. Neither knew how to make things right and they both thought it was the others job.

Maybe if they were both just a little less sure of their own shining place in the world. Or a little more willing to admit it. But they weren’t.

They were two stubborn fuckers too alike each other and far too different for their own good.

“Martyn,” Scott began, turning around and pointing to his house, glowing above the ravine, “Is actively trying to win Cleo- oh.”

Martyn was standing at his window, eyes fixed on the two of them. “Martyn is watching us right now through his little heart floating island. I just turned around and- that’s kinda creepy.”

“Oh,” Pearl tilted her head to the side, frowning, “Oh he’s made a little-”

“That’s kinda creepy,” Scott muttered, slipping his communicator out of his pocket, “Why is he just- he’s just staring.”

Why are you watching us, he typed out. He didn’t really want anyone to know everything that had just gone down and was a little stressed Martyn had seen the entire thing. You weirdo.

“He’s just staring.”

Pearl laughed, standing on wobbling legs and piling the snow back into their bucket. “I mean, you got a creepy neighbour right there I’m just saying.”

“He’s brough the property value all the way down,” Scott grouched to himself, still not over how monstrously ugly the little shack was.

“That he has.”

For a moment, they both just shook their heads at him. Until he disappeared from view of the window, Scott glanced at the chat and scoffed out a laugh. 

InTheLittleWood: I’m not scary, I’m sad

“You know what,” Pearl sighed, coming over to stand right behind Scott. He jumped a little, scrambling to his feet also so she didn’t tower over him quite so much as she began rambling, “I’ve got a great little like tower off in the distance, it’s fantastic. I can see everything and I don’t have to deal with creepy neighbours.” She held a hand up toward Martyn like ‘case and point’ and then glared at Scott, “Or people that are trying to kill me.”

It was meant as an enticing glare he thought, if such a thing existed. An offering. Ditch Cleo, come live with me.

He wasn’t sure where he’d stood with her when he’d set out. He’d certainly thought she was a piece of work but no more than usual. He’d still thought he wanted to work things out with her at some point. He still wouldn’t have left Cleo for her, but maybe he would have invited her to come live with them. But after the snow…

He still didn’t know where she stood with him, but he knew his thoughts on the matter. And he didn’t want to live with her, to work things out, to gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss reunion. He wasn’t about to invite her to live with them, let alone leave Cleo for her.

So her invitation, where it might have struck him as a way into the conversation. Now, it just struck him as ignorant, oblivious and rude and he scoffed bitterly, speaking with all the sarcasm he could possibly infuse into his words.

“See, I’m quite attached to mine and Pearl- mine and Cleo’s bridge though.”

He silently cursed his slip up, vaguely wondering if it were a subconscious thing or if he was just thinking about Pearl and it happened to slip out. “And my little house that I’m building.”

Void it made Pearl so sick. The whole situation. It was as though last season was all just some fever dream she’d had. The three of them, her and Scott first of all before Cleo had ever even turned up. What had happened to that? Did that really never mean anything?

“Yeah,” She turned away, tucking her hair determinedly behind her ear, “Yeah see just chuck me out!” she spat, glaring at his idle nonchalance, “It’s fine!”

“It’s my base Pearl.”

Not at all what she meant but she was angry and blind now. she needed something to yell about. Something to argue that didn’t make her want to cry.

“Are you sure,” she laughed, moving past him and bashing into his shoulder a little bit, making toward his house on the hill, “You sure it’s not mine?”

“No- I-”

Scott watched her go for a few moments, cloak whipping through the grass and hair flying about around her face as she screeched, “It’s my base now, Scott! You said it. You said it!”

Then he saw where she was going and took off after her, yelling, “Pearl that’s not-”

“You said it!” she screeched, fully sprinting now, “You said it’s my base now!”

“I definitely did not say that!” Scott took off after her, blood rushing in his ears as his feet pounded against the ground. Whatever had been resigned acceptance was taking a hard right into anger. What was wrong with her?

“It’s my house! I’m moving in!”

She’d actually gone crazy. What the fuck was she on about? Neither slowed as they should have as they reached the hill, straggling up. Scott caught up a little as they both panted, groaning against their aching lungs. Cleo stared at the stumbling mess of the two of them from the top of the hill, saying nothing as they made it gasping to the top.

Scott grabbed her by the hood of her cloak, yanking her backward and scrambling in front of her, drawing his dagger and pressing it to her throat, “I will kill you!” he screamed, glaring down her gaze, as if he might look through the maddened look in her eye.

She just shook her head, leaning against the blade until Scott felt it pressing at his own neck.

“No you won’t,” she laughed, tilting her head so his knife scraped her skin and smiling creepily. “You won’t do it. You won’t kill me.”

“I’ll do it,” he pushed it further, daring, like the ice all over again. “I’ll do it!”

“No you won’t,” her own knife was suddenly flashing in front of his eyes, swiftly flicking his blade right out of his hand, scattering it to the grass. Her gaze hardened into a glare as she tucked the knife back into her belt, eyes not flinching off his boiling anger. Then she laughed, shaking her head and tucking her hair behind her ear as she skipped off toward the cottage, “It’s my house now, you said so!”

Scott turned with a huff, grabbing his knife from the grass and making after her in resigned frustration. She'd just caught him off guard that was all. Besides, it was late and he didn't have the energy for this.

“She’s just forcefully moving in Cleo,” he groaned in way of some explanation, throwing up his hands. “This is- this is-”

Him and Cleo exchanged an exasperated expression as Peal sauntered onto the balcony, throwing a wave at Cleo. She was having none of it, grabbing Pearl’s shirt and throwing her against the wall, “That’s not how this works.”

“Yes it is,” Pearl snapped, pushing against their hold and elbowing them in the shoulder. “He said!” Cleo pushed her toward the stairs and she staggered, glaring at them as she straightened, “Hey, hey! Scott said! He said mine and Pearl’s! You know, so-” she threw a hand up at Scott and then calmed a little, readjusting her cloak and rushing past Cleo who tried to grab at her but got elbowed out of the way into the railing.

“I didn’t I said mine and Cleo’s bridge I said!” Scott screamed, dashing past Cleo and chasing after Pearl into the house.

She’d made into a small empty room off the main area that Scott had intended to make into a bedroom. She swept herself into a pile, pushing her back against a wall and glaring at the two of them.

“You said mine and Pearl’s!” she screeched, pressing her hands against her ears and burying her head in her lap, “I HEARD YOU!! DON”T YOU LIE!”

“This is crazy.” Scott pressed his back against the wall as Cleo made for the table, pushing it over toward Pearl. He was so overwhelmed he wanted to just start crying. He couldn’t deal with this so early in the season. No-one was even red yet! There wasn’t a boogeyman! Pearl was just choosing to be a menace for the sake of making his life miserable at this point.

“I mean,” Cleo shook her head, noticing both Scott and Pearl borderline breakdown. Why were they always the mediator? She dragged the table to the doorframe where it fit quite nicely and stacked two chairs on top of it, “We can- we can-” they gestured at the barricade blocking Pearl in and shrugged, “This is fine.”

“Hey!” Pearl scoffed with an offended gasp, jumping to her feet to part the chairs while Cleo pushed them back together, making a horrid scraping noise as Pearl groaned and Cleo tutted.

“This is a crazy ex-girlfriend situation,” Scott spat, burying his head in his hands and trying to block out the whole situation.

“Excuse you,” Pearl screeched, forcing him to acknowledge her presence, disrupting his fragile peace, “We were never in that situation thank you very much!”

She wacked Cleo and pushed a chair so that it tumbled skidding across the floor. No. Exactly. They weren’t. Well they wouldn’t have been if he’d had any choice in the matter certainly.

“This is why I’m gay!” he shrieked, grabbing the chair and tossing it back at Pearl who wacked it into the wall, splintering a leg, “This is why I’m gay!”

He didn’t want a crazy ex-girlfriend. He certainly didn’t want a girlfriend. He hadn’t chosen Pearl. This wasn’t his fault. Fate had just chucked them together and sent her more barmy than she already was. He didn’t want any of this! Pearl was the one that was trying to assert herself into his life! To forcefully move into his house until he had to accept her. She was the one who wanted this! She was the reason they were in this situation.

“You were trying to be my soulbound! This is the equivalent of this!”

She took a step back, shaking her head with a laugh that sounded more like a coughing fit. Scott and Cleo exchanged a look of utter bewilderment and mild concern. Then all of a sudden, she’d grabbed Scott’s shirt, pulling him forward until their noses were almost touching and he could smell her rancid breath.

Cleo shouted, grabbing at Scott’s arm but they couldn’t get to Pearl through the barricade and they didn't want to hurt Scott by yanking him out of her death grip so they lingered awkwardly with their knife out in case an opportunity arose

“I’m not trying to be your soulbound Scott,” she whispered, dazed maddened gaze fixed on him, “I never wanted to be your soulbound.”

Scott’s whole body was rigid, eyes wide with a hint of panic. His heart was beating through honey; hands clenched by his sides. He could have easily wrenched out of her grasp. But something about the twitching of her fingertips, and whisper of weight in her words. He felt frozen in place, every part of him screaming to get away from her while no part of him listened.

“Then why’re you making a big deal about it?” he choked out, trying to keep composure in his voice at least.

Pearl let him go and he stumbled backwards, heartbeat finally matching his stress in its frantic pace. She clambered straight over Cleo’s barricade, cloak whipping about as she jumped to the floor. Her gaze caught Scott and she smiled with all the charm and grace of a lunatic.

“Because it’s funny to bother you,” she cackled, running past them for the door, making a series of incomprehensible noises like a possessed jester.

The two of them watched her go, staring out the window as she stumbled into the grass, turning around and grinning at the two of them.

“I think she’s lost it,” Cleo muttered, raising a slightly worried but mostly judgemental eyebrow at Scott who took a deep breath, shrugging his shirt back into place on his shoulders.

“I don’t think she had it to begin with.”

He sighed, rubbing his temples as Pearl’s screaming drifted through the window, “I lost it last week!” She gave a deranged yell, turning and sprinting off into the forest, “I’m running now, goodbye!”

Her voice trailed off and the two of them just stood there at the window, utterly lost for words.

“What’s this?” Grian groaned, leaning over the spiky fort wall with a drowsy and nervous resentment, “Wha- what’s this big ol’ circle?”

It wasn’t often he woke up after Scar but he’d had one hell of a night and few days before that. And he hadn’t been sleeping enough anyway recently. His bubble of sleepy obliviousness had been rudely burst by Scar’s humming from just outside the spiky fort. He’d dragged himself up to the upper level he was slowly building to lean over the wall and locate his troublesome soulmate who was bouncing about outside, setting the foundations for what looked like it could be a second spiky fort. Currently, it was a collection of logs in a semicircle facing the hill to the west.

“Oh this?” Scar glanced up, feigning ignorance like he wouldn’t have even guessed Grian would take any problem with it. Like it were something he was surprised his soulmate noticed and not glaringly obvious. He waved a hand like ‘don’t worry about it’, “Oh just a temporary little place for the jellies to live,” He was pouting up at Grian, perfectly practiced expression of innocence, silently demanding sympathy for his stupid pandas, “They can’t live in a hole Grian. Their entire lives? No.”

He shook his head disappointedly, turning back to his work and Grian gave a resigned sigh and made his way down to the ground layer, ducking out of the wall. “Okay,” he muttered noncommittally. He could have a go at Scar later for that. “Er, well I’ve got bigger fish to fry because I’ve found the ancient city.” He couldn’t keep the resentment out of his voice, trying to emphasise how much Scar was wasting his time by providing him an alternative. He seemed unbothered. “Which means…the enchanter.”

He regretted it as soon as it came out of his mouth, Scar’s head snapping up and his eyes fixing on Grian’s, wide and eyebrows disappearing into the wispy pieces of hair falling across his furry face. He glanced about and then made quickly toward Grian until the two of them were far too close for comfort.

“Where’s the enchanter?” he muttered conspiratorially.

Grian bit his tongue, wishing he’d said nothing. Wishing he’d never spoken to Scar in the first place. If there was one thing that could distract Scar from the pandas, that was it. But he’d much rather have a useless soulmate than a dead one. Now he just needed to find a way to convince Scar that it didn’t matter.

“Er, don’t you worry, your little cotton socks.” he announced fondly, wrapping an arm around Scar’s neck, “You just stay here and look,” he paused, drawing just far enough away from Scar to glance at his face, furrowed in confusion and then leant back in, muttering, “Mildly horrifying.” And stood on his tip toes to press a kiss into Scar’s cheek before untangling them and heading off toward the spiky fort.

“You let papa Grian go and get the levels.”

Scar couldn’t even begin to process the horrifying, exhilarating concoction of feelings bubbling within him.

Let alone the manipulation concocting them.

Impulse had woken Etho bright and early. Actually early, not yet bright.

He’d woken at four am with Bdubs fully sprawled on top of him and dragged himself out of bed to grab some water. Which is when by force of awful habit, he’d checked his communicator and saw that Grian had somehow been to the deep dark already. And while it wasn’t a competition, anyone who went to the deep dark had the opportunity to take the enchanter. He doubted Grian would have but the more people went, the more people had the opportunity and the more likely it was someone would take it. And if Grian knew where it was, that likely meant Scar knew too. And on the scale of how likely are they to take the enchanter from its designated place ranged from Grian to Scar.

He tried to go back to sleep, he really did. It didn’t help that Bdubs had claimed the entire bed and some of the floor somehow as his spot to sleep. He couldn’t rest and he figured he may as well be doing something productive.

So not so bright and far too early it was.

The two of them grabbed what they needed from inside and headed out to pack their bags so as to not wake Bdubs.

“Nothing will wake him when he’s in his sprawl across the bed stage of sleep.”

“Yeah I know.”

“Right.”

Still, Impulse doubted even Bdubs could sleep through a noise machine, which was what he wanted to show Etho.

“How fast do you think you could make this contraption…in the dark?”

Etho just laughed.

The two of them made off into the morning as the sun rose over the hills. Impulse jumped straight into the ravine with the cave down to the deep dark, splashing into the water and hoping Bdubs wasn’t shivering in his sleep as he clambered out drenched. Etho was taking no chances and climbed down awkwardly.

“We’re already hurting pretty bad,” he explained with a laugh as they made their way into the cave. Impulse just nodded thoughtfully and Etho sighed.

“You know Joel, he’s a bit of a loose cannon sometimes.”

They made their way down through the ins and outs of the caves. It took the better part of an hour but nowhere near as long as Impulse had expected. The two of them made quick progress into the dark, torches aloft, casting shadows across the tunnel’s jagged walls. They made through a mineshaft, peering around pillars forming blind corners, checking every inch for monsters. The last thing they needed was to die before they even made it to the deep dark.

They stopped in the mineshaft for a momentary rest while they had somewhere to sit down that wasn’t the uncomfortable sharpness of gravel and small rocks littering the cave floor. Etho had hardly any food, him and Joel were hurting indeed. But Impulse graciously offered him some of his food, remembering phase two of Bdubs’ plan was just as important as the first.

“I think we got a pretty strong alliance brewing here,” he sighed, taking a large gulp of water that felt like a miracle to his parched throat.

“I’m a little worried Impulse,” Etho mused, absent-mindedly tearing his piece of bread, staring up at the roof, “I feel like- like Bdubs wanted to get rid of you there.”

He glanced beside him at Impulse who was just smiling faintly at the opposite wall, hearing exactly what Etho was doing. He’d meant what he’d said to Bdubs the other night. No-one could break them up.

“Dunno if you noticed that,” Etho muttered, shrugging like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“You think so?” His voice was interested, nonchalant. Exactly how he wanted it. Bdubs could dabble in manipulation, but Impulse was the master of showing people only exactly what he wanted them to see.

“He’s like ‘please take Impulse. Get out of my hair!’”

“Well,” He shrugged, tucking his water back into his bag and clambering to his feet with an unbothered shrug, “We’ve- we’ve pretty much been inseparable since day one so…”

He offered Etho a hand up which he glanced at only for a moment before taking, muttering,  “True.”

“Yeah I don’t blame him,” Impulse sighed, meeting Etho’s eyes just to let him see that he wasn’t lying. He thought being genuine would annoy Etho the most right now, “You know, everyone needs a little me time.”

“Yeah,” Etho laughed, nodding in exuberant resentment, “Yeah.”

And Impulse couldn’t help grinning as he turned away and the two of them continued into the mine. Because even if Etho wasn’t lying at all, he still didn’t care. It didn’t matter. Him and Bdubs. To the end.

Power couple right there. No-one could bring them down.

The air slowly changed as the deepest level of the mine gave way to the deep dark, from thick with the scent of damp earth and the faint sound of water dripping some way off to a ghostly suffocating silence and an all-consuming void, sucking at the light of their torches until they looked like dim candles, hardly ablaze. The two of them were cautious in their progress, unsure and testing everything. Once they finally actually made it into the city, speaking seemed too far a goal to be cautious of anyway.

They were both so lost for words.

Before them sprawled a labyrinth of crumbling buildings gleaming in the distinct absence of light. Grand decaying archways and criss-crossing buildings spreading out for miles, carved with intricate symbols that faintly glowed, but somehow failed to illuminate anything beyond the symbols themselves. City was the right word, but it felt so wrong. Something about the silence, and the dark, so far removed from what a city was supposed to be.

Impulse thought of himself as a fairly confident man. He certainly thought of Etho as a courageous one. But the two of them stood there, breath shallow, eyes wide, scanning the eerie landscape as the weight of the silence pressed in.

“We shouldn’t be here,” Etho mumbled, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Impulse couldn’t help but feel the same way, but he shook his head, forcing his feet forward despite each step feeling heavier than the last, as though the ground itself was warning them to leave.

“We’ll be fine.”

“We’ll be fine!”

Ren woke just as the sun was cracking through the trees.

He always woke too early, despite going to bed far too late. He wasn't sure why he hardly slept but it was something Martyn had always scolded him for, insisting he needed rest or he'd get himself killed. BigB didn't seem to mind as much, never dragging Ren to bed. He appreciated it because he'd always just spent hours awake next to Martyn anyway.

He made himself a quick and quiet breakfast and sat in the window, watching the sun bring day to the forest, birds chirping in golden rays of light. He heard the dog barking and remembered BigB had pointed the dog out hen they’d made it home, shortly before collapsing to bed. Ren had lured the dog away from zombie’s that were trying to kill it and tied it to the fence. It was going to be one hell of a bargaining chip with one Pearlescent Moon.

He scrabbled about in his pack until he found where he'd abandoned his communicator.

Renthedog: Pearl - I think I found something of yours

Renthedog: come to Box!

Renthedog: :)

It seemed only fair to give her the dog. She did seem to care a lot and he didn’t think he’d be able to get anything more for it than from her. The way she’d been asking for a dog in the forest, he thought she’d probably sell her soul for it at this point. Ren knew that the last time he saw Pearl, she was sacrificing herself to some dark spirit in the forest in the middle of the night but, look, they’d walked in on her during an inopportune moment. Everyone did things they’d rather do undisrupted and he owed her the privacy of whatever she wanted to do with Scar at five am in the grove. He was willing to give her another chance.

With any luck, it could be the start of a new alliance.

“They don’t want me,” Pearl sang to herself as she ran through the grass, to keep the tears pressing at her eyes at bay with all the frantic energy she could muster, “They don’t want me, Martyn’s being creepy in a box.”

She pressed her back against a tree as she reached the edge of the forest and took several deep steadying breaths, letting the tears stain her cheeks until her gaze unfocused on the horizon. Until everything was distant, the moon merely a blur in the sky and the world no more than the grass in front of her.

“I’m going to find my dog.”

She didn't in fact, find a dog. She woke up on the forest floor without a clue in the world how she'd gotten there, sticks and leaves stuck in her knotted hair and bones stiff and aching. She dragged herself to her feet, brushing dirt off her cloak and cracking her neck before making forward through the forest. Her sleepiness bubbled around her, making her forget the night momentarily until she noticed her blackened fingers. She reached for her communicator, vaguely wondering if Scott had messaged her to apologise. She wasn't sure she'd forgive him even if he had and she had no faith that he would. Sure enough, no apologies. But her optimism turned out to be intuition, three messages popped up, heading with her name.

She read it in a murmur into the trees.

“Found something of mine?” It wasn't an apology. But it certainly wasn't the good riddance he'd sent her off with. Her throat still vaguely ached and her finger tips tingling. The lingering effects of their dysfunction confusing her as to why he wanted her back. “Say what now? To the box?”

She rolled her eyes, tutting as she turned around and muttering as she made back across the plains, “Okay, I’m coming back.”

Scott had dragged himself out of bed with a sob that in his resigned depression felt more fitting than a groan. The tips of his fingers were still blackened and tingling horribly. Fucking Pearl.

He’d just about gotten about his day, just about moved on from whatever the night had been. His fingers had stopped aching but the skin just wouldn’t return to its natural hue. He was just making through the sun, feeding his cows when he heard Pearl’s voice, whining across the field.

“Scooooott!”

At first, he thought he was imagining it, some sleep deprived hallucination. Then he turned and saw her standing there, red beacon against the light grass, eyes wide, hair somehow more straggled than when he’d seen it last.

“Oh jesus,” he gasped, “How’re you here already?”

Had she not gone back to her tower on the other side of the map? She looked like she might have been up all night, but where the hell had she gone?

“Because, because I was just over there in the forest you didn’t give me much time to run away did ya huh?” she snapped, gesturing madly.

Scott frowned for a solid moment at Pearl’s vacant stare. Then he remembered the message he’d seen that morning and took a sharp turn into deep rooted concern. A concern untainted by his anger, overwhelm and frustration. “I didn’t say I have something of yours,” he scoffed, flicking open his communicator and shoving it toward Pearl. “Ren said he has something of yours.”

“Oh.” Pearl’s face dropped and she took a tentative step forward, squinting at the little words, “Oh he did.”

“You’re so me centric,” he laughed, but his gaze stayed fixed and his eyebrows furrowed, none of his demeanour matching the carefree sound of his laugh. It was oddly reassuring to Pearl to know he did actually care. “You’re just like everything if from Scott.”

It was just who she’d seen last. What the fuck would Ren want to talk about with her? It wasn’t that much of a mishap was it? Right?

She glared at the ground, crying frustratedly into the early morning air.

“Maybe you have gone a little bit loopy.” Scott scoffed, shaking his head and turning away with an exasperated tut.

“Look Scott!” She was still sobbing through her words, aiming for angry but landing amid depressed. “You’ve done some damage alright?”

The two of them stared at each other for a few moments. Then Pearl deflated, gulping back tears and heading off toward the bridge.

“Apparently!” Scott laughed after her in exasperation, “Cos that’s not even the way to Ren’s. Pearl whipped around and he just rolled his eyes, gesturing into the distance, up the hill where Pearl could see a large stone roof protruding through the trees.

“Ren’s is the big box past my house!”

Come to box. That made more sense.  Maybe she really should have realised the message wasn’t from Scott.

“Oh,” she couldn’t help but laugh as she moved past him, “I’m going this way I guess.”

She made up the hill with Scott’s frustrated tone weighing on her mind as he muttered, “Oh my god.” in the way that had always meant he was done with talking to her, “Byeeee,” he called after her and even though she wanted to break down crying, she managed to return, “Byeee.”

Like they were still friends. Like he wasn’t being a frustrated, impatient asshole.

She made up to Ren’s, feeling even more like shit than when she’d last left Scott’s. Maybe it was for the best that he wanted nothing to do with her. Though the happiest moments she’d ever had were with Scott, so were the most miserable. And he really did have a way of making her feel like shit. 

Ren was fighting a losing battle against a group of goats who kept marauding into box and lying down on the floor. They were cute but he was a little concerned for Box’s defences that a goat could easily surpass them.

“How do goats jump five freaking meters!” he was yelling, to a rather unbothered BigB, who'd just woken up and was eating the rest of the breakfast Ren had made.

“They bouncy boys,” Pearl sing-songed from the forest, stepping out of the trees and startling him for a moment. She looked far more bedraggled than last he saw her, the distinct haziness in her eyes of someone who hadn’t been treated nicely by life recently.

“Pearl!” he grinned, offering her a wave and restraining from the hug that was his first instinct. He was still a little wary of her. He gestured theatrically around, “Welcome to box!”

She laughed, wandering forward with a curious expression, “Box?”

Ren nodded, taking a step forward and adding in a quieter, more serious tone, “You’re welcome here.”

Pearl couldn’t help the warmth that spread at those words. After Scott and Cleo’s attitude, the hospitality was an agreeable change.

“Oh I’m welcome here?” she gushed, a smile plastered across her cheeks though the actual happiness putting it there was a little distant.

“Yup,” Ren motioned for her to follow, making up the hill a little more to the patch of grass around the right side of Box. “I might have something for you that I think you will be very interested in.”

She made up the hill after him, gasping as they made it. Next to the wall, tied to an adjoining fence post was an adorable and slightly confused dog, fuzzy fur sticking up at all angles.

“Doggie doos!” she cried, rushing forward to pet and cuddle it exuberantly. Ren watched with a grin as the dog immediately took to her, licking at her fingers and barking amiably as she scratched behind it’s ears, cooing, “Doggie, doggie, doggie.”

“A fresh little puppers.” He made forward and leant against the wall, untying the lead and handing it over to Pearl.

“Can I tame it? Please!” she begged, bursting with excitement as she glanced up at Ren with big pleading eyes and a bone she’d fished from her seemingly endless cloak pockets.

“Uh hold on!” Ren put one hand on the lead again, not trusting her at all not to just run away with it, “Hold your bone for one sec.”

“I’m holding bones.”

“We need to make a deal,” he met her eye and she nodded enthusiastically. “When we’re fighting each other, if we come across one another on the battlefield…you shall turn…the other way.”

Pearl frowned, folding her arms with a suspicious squint, “What if you hit me? Does that allow you to hit me back or…”

“No! No, no, no, no.” Ren shook his head, realising the error of his sentence.

“No?” Pearl didn’t understand this agreement. Was it a peace truce? It seemed a little early in the season for such things really.

“We- lemme rephrase,” Ren held up a finger, closing his eyes for a moment, thinking through, “If we see each other on the battlefield…we shall turn away.”

“Okay,” Pearl nodded thoughtfully. It didn’t seem a bad trade for her. She did need friends after all. But there must be something she was overlooking. “Ah, well. What if it’s between you and Scott?”

“Listen,” Ren began diplomatically, shaking his head and holding his hands up in surrender. “I don’t care about your soulmate, okay?”

“Okay.”

It sounded a bit like an out to Pearl but she wasn’t about to mention it. She didn’t have a counter offer. She couldn’t exactly make deals on Scott’s behalf. An unfortunate side effect of not pairing up with her soulmate.

“I’m only interest in- in you right now.” Ren fixed her with a charming smile and she took pride in smiling back knowing Scott would roll his eyes. She really didn’t care at this point. She didn’t have to trade anything and she got her dog. Why was she even thinking about Scott when all he'd done was toss her aside and refuse to consider her.

“Okay, you know what, to be honest, I’d do anything for Tilly so if you want me to kill Scott, I’ll kill Scott.”

Ren stared in utter concern for a moment, watching Pearl shrug so nonchalantly about murdering her supposed soulmate.

“Wow I mean-” he didn’t even know what to say, “Don’t talk too loudly cos he’s very close by.”

“That’s okay,” she yawned, suddenly looking utterly exhausted, and tossing a hand up uncaringly, “He’ll be fine. He’s alright.”

It was at that moment Ren decided it was definitely better to be on side with Pearl. And Scott. Though winning him over might be harder.

“So we got a deal?” he held out a hand in offering.

Pearl shook it, nodding avidly, “We got a deal.” Her gaze fell to the dog, softening instantly, “I’d do anything for Tilly.”

Ren noted that Tilly was the name of the dead dog and felt a little creeped out. He forced a smile and made off back to Box, listening to Pearl muttering, “Hi Tilly my sweet thing, come on. We’re going home.”

Jimmy was gone by the time Tango woke up and he wasn’t entirely sure where he’d gone but set to working on expanding their house a bit.

Jimmy had run as soon as he’d gotten up, grabbing a few layers to fight the chilly morning breeze and, most importantly, his goat horn. He made over to the spiked wall with a skip in his step, grinning ear to ear so much that his cheeks hurt. He told him, didn’t he tell him? He was gonna go visit Grian and show him something that he did not want to see. Jimmy. With a horn.

“Grian!” he called, ducking inside and peering around. It was still just a camp inside what looked like a fortress from the outside, a few chests and a crafting table, a smouldering pile of ashes and an abandoned pile of blankets and pillows. About half of one side had a roof that looked like it might actually be the foundations of a floor half built and construction tools lying around it.

It was Scar’s voice that came first, ducking out from under the floor construction. “Who- who’s here?”

“Yes?” Grian followed, eyes fixed on his soulmate. Then he rolled them away and glanced at Jimmy with exasperated expectation.

He took a step forward, trying to contain his excitement to a self-satisfied smirk, “I’ve got something. That will make your skin crawl.”

“I think I know what it is,” Grian reached into his pocket for his own horn, raising an eyebrow before sounding it, triggering the cacophony. Jimmy couldn’t contain his grin as he retrieved his own, letting the crisp note linger in the air between them, a perfect consonance.

Scar gasped from behind him, “You got a horn!”

Grian shook his head, knowing better. It wasn’t just that Jimmy had gotten a horn, which was annoying enough. “He’s got the reply!”

“I’ve got the reply!” Jimmy laughed, jumping up and pumping his fists in the air, “And I’ve been doing it happily oh it feels good,” he snapped at Grian who tutted and rolled his eyes.

“I’m so proud of you!” Scar cried, probably just to piss off Grian but Jimmy would take it. He turned and beamed at him.

“Thank you so much.”

“So proud.”

He took a step forward, raising his eyebrows and muttering conspiratorially, “Uh where’s your horse?”

He really, really wanted Scar’s horse. And if he wouldn’t trade it…maybe he’d have to think about…other ways.

“Do you know what?” Grian interrupted their discussion, arms folded and gaze petulant. “The horns are a lot less fun now he has one.”

And Scar, who supposedly was so proud of Jimmy, snickered and smirked at his soulmate who was still putting up an unenthused façade. But Jimmy could see the hint of mischief alight in his eyes.

“No! wait, what? no!” he shook his head vehemently, a creeping unease spreading throughout, “I’m a part of the club!”

He hated that he was desperate again. This was supposed to be a victorious moment, how had it turned so quickly to Grian having the power over him, again.

“I think we can all stop.” He shrugged, tossing his horn into the grass and heading to his chests, “I think we can all stop with the horns now to be honest.”

“No, surely not!” Jimmy yelled but he already knew what was going on. What Grian and probably fucking Scott had concocted just to torture him. He already suspected but he needed to know. “No, look, look. Here it is.”

He blew his horn as his heart thudded erratically, the only motion of his fear as he tried to muster self-confidence. But his whistling note was quickly supported by a loud low-pitched buzz. Scar beside him put his horn down. Grian glared at him.

“Oh my gosh I thought no-one was gonna reply!” Jimmy gushed, trying to calm his heart. It was okay. Grian hadn’t somehow manufactured that. “That was gonna be horrendous.”

“Oh. Did I do wrong Grian?” Scar mumbled, his voice more than a little hurt. If Jimmy hadn’t been so caught up in his own bullshit, he might have worried.

“Yeah,” Grian snapped with a sigh, “Don’t respond to him.”

“No!” Jimmy’s face fell blank. Was there only one horn? There were more right? Surely there were more? “Someone will still respond to this right?”

Grian shrugged and Jimmy couldn’t get his horn to his lips fast enough.

Crisp high note.

Silence.

“NO!! NO!”

Grian’s laughter was a sharp erratic sound in Jimmy’s ears, like he couldn’t catch his breath between fits of hysteria. Scar was calling, “Sorry, sorry Tim.” In the most monotone, unbothered voice while Jimmy screamed, angry energy making him feel trapped in his own skin as threw his arms around madly, “NOO!! Oh my gosh this is horrific!”

Their cruel laughter followed him out as he made for the exit.

“Oh my gosh,” he snapped, clenching his fists and continuing with his vehement head shaking like it might change Grian’s mind. “I feel sick,” he murmured to himself, pressing his back against a tree in the nearby forest, “Aw no.”

Warmth rushed to his head as bile scorched his throat. The pungent scent of spew assaulted his nose and he stumbled away back toward the spiked wall. Void, had he actually just been sick over this? He buried his head in hands and took deep breaths for a few moments. He didn’t  want to go home to Tango crying again. Over the same stupid shit. The shit they’d wasted days on for no point, to no avail. Just for them to be back at square one. So it wasn’t all that surprising that as he straightened, looking for alternatives, his eyes fell to Scar’s horse, wandering out of the wall, apparently not tied up. Typical Scar. Trusting the world and burning it to bits when it didn't deliver.

Jimmy just needed something to bring back to his soulmate. He needed to contribute something.

He carefully took the reigns, stroking its back tentatively. It didn’t seem too perturbed by his presence, a remarkably unbothered horse. Or maybe it just liked Jimmy. Maybe he really did want to be at the ranch.

Grian wandered out with a laugh over his shoulder, trailing inside to Scar. He turned and trapped Tim on the shoulder, muttering conspiratorially, “Uh Jim, Jim.”

His tone was soft, kind-ish. Nothing like the smirky cruelty of mere minutes ago.

“Yeah?” Jim matched his energy on instinct but miffed confusion pressed at his brow.

“We’re taking a party down into the deep dark.” he raised an eyebrow, smirking in offering but warning in his tone, “Are you coming?”

Jimmy immediately perked up with excited but he felt a little uncomfortable just standing there with Scar’s horse. “Uh sure,” he shrugged, “When are we doing this?”

“Mr Yellow,” Grian teased, leaning forward with that stupid cocky expression.

“Oh wait.” Jimmy paused and Grian laughed, “Yeah.”

“Do I…? huh. Umm.”

“Yeah, do you really want to?”

Jimmy wanted out of this now. He was yellow, he’d wasted his time. He was feeling like shit about himself more than he could handle on a good day and this wasn’t a good day. He clambered onto the horse that sniffed in annoyance, “Uh I could, but-” he tutted, glancing behind him at the spiked wall where Scar was still off doing whatever it was he was doing inside. He sighed; his words really weren’t working today. He wanted to go to the deep dark; he wanted to have fun and do cool things like that. But he really couldn’t afford to lose another life and either way, Tango wouldn’t forgive him.

“Scar he’s taking your horse!” Grian yelled over his shoulder, fixing Jimmy with a smug stare. Apparently he’d at least slightly overestimated how at odds the two of them were. Grian still did at least care that he was stealing. Or maybe he was just being a prick. Wanted to watch the chaos unfold.

“What?” Scar gasped and there was a great crash from inside the wall.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jimmy glared at Grian who shrugged with a ‘not my problem’ kind of nonchalance and pulled sharply on the reigns, sending the horse into a begrudging trot. “C’mon,” he tutted at it, knowing this subtle thievery was going horribly wrong.

“Scar he’s leaving with your horse!!” Grian shouted at his partner, grinning giddily at Jimmy who threw the finger up at him before getting yanked forward as the horse finally decided it wanted to run. 

“I will murder you!” Scar shrieked, sprinting out of the spiky wall with his sword raised.

Grian took a step back, watching as Jimmy struggled to get the horse to outrun Scar, screaming, “The ranch! He belongs on the ranch Scar!”  While the latter, unstoppable and unhinged in his anger, matched his volume, “I will murder! I will murder! I will murder!”

“He belongs on the ranch Scar!”

“Oh you get back here!”

The two of them disappeared into the forest, their shouts fading out of earshot.

“Get back here, I’m gonna trample all your crops!”

Grian just stared apathetically after them, muttering, “That’s a really fast horse.” He rolled his eyes, turning away and hoping Jimmy gave him back the horse before he actually went through with his murder threats.

A few minutes later, Scar returned, aboard his horse with a self-satisfied grin, his threats of ruining Jimmy and Tango’s entire wheat operation successful enough, only to find Grian had disappeared again.

He tied his horse up so no-one else could steal him and then made outside to sit down in the jellie panda hole. Something about being surrounded by them, falling asleep on his legs, just made him feel at ease. He could sift through all his thoughts without them overwhelming him.

He absentmindedly stroked a jellie and stared into its big brown eyes. He just wished Grian would stop disappearing on him, running away from him and just tell him what was going on. At least then he could know.

If it was over, he’d rather just know. Then he could start getting over it. He couldn’t do this whole hanging on his every word wondering if it was a sign nonsense.

But then he remembered Grian’s sweet smile, kiss pressed into his cheek. Maybe Grian did love him, maybe this was all in his head. And he couldn't help but think despite everything, despite knowing it was a dangerous red flag of a thought. He couldn't help but think maybe if there were moments like that, it was worth sticking around.

Martyn made over to what he thought was Grian and Scar’s base up on the hill. He hadn’t actually spoken to the two of them yet but he’d heard they were paired and they’d been hanging out a bit last session. He’d definitely seen Grian run off in this direction and now Scar was hanging out in a field surrounded by the beginnings of a wall.

“Hello Martyn!” he called, standing from where he was digging a hole for a little sapling.

“Hello Scar,” Martyn returned with a shrug, leaning against the wall and glancing around with a frown. He didn’t really know what was going on here. Grian’s wall with the spikes affixed on top had expanded, fulling encircling a large part of the hill. Scar’s half-finished wall was right outside. Weren’t the two of them soulmates? Were they living apart? “Where is Grian?” Martyn frowned, watching Scar curiously as he abandoned his shovel and wiped his hands on his trousers, “Is Grian near here? I could have sworn you guys were,” he paused, staring at Scar with a raised eyebrow, finding the right word, “Buddies.”

“I barely see him,” Scar shook his head, staring wistfully into the distance, “The man is like, he’s on wheels. He’s just rolling around like a wild man.”

Martyn frowned, wondering why Scar and Grian of all people were having marital problems and then deciding that was surprisingly on brand for them. He was distracted from his thoughts by a deep melodic horn sound triggering the cacophony. Wait- hadn’t that been Grian’s signal?

“I think I have to follow the horn,” Martyn hummed, “Uh I will try to protect Grian for you,” he called over his shoulder as he made up the hill away from the petting zoo, “But I can’t make any promises.”

“You know I- eh,” Scar faltered and sighed, rubbing his eyes, “I’m just letting faith- faith take over here.”

Grian stared over the hill through the midmorning glare, watching Ren and BigB amble up toward the bridge across the ravine. He couldn’t help the nasty curling jealousy in his stomach, making him feel ill and filling him with angry energy. Though at who he wasn’t sure. Ren, Scar, fate itself. Probably just himself.

He really had honestly believed BigB would be his soulmate and he was earnestly heartbroken. Him and BigB, together right to the end, hand in hand. It had been a beautiful mental image and for a moment, he'd been so excited, so sure. But no, of course fate had fucked him over. Denied him something new and unblemished and beautiful. Denied him a way to move on, the happiness that could bring. And landed him with all the glaring mistakes of his past and the epitome of his trauma, wrapped up in a bundle of man he couldn’t help loving.

He was damn near ready to fistfight fate.

Which he couldn’t do literally, but perhaps it stood as a metaphor. He watched BigB laugh, glancing away from Ren with a sheepish expression and wondered if the idea was far-fetched. The two of them seemed happy enough. But Grian wasn’t one to give up on an idea once he’d gotten it.

And now he was thinking. What if instead of being stuck in a soulbond with his good old buddy good times with Scar… what if he tried to win over someone else’s soulmate? Forge his own destiny. He’d gotten it in his head now and he couldn’t shake it, grinning like an idiot as he watched Ren untangle himself from BigB and make off to embrace Martyn. BigB stood there awkwardly, shuffling from foot to foot. It looked like he was coming to the deep dark with them. And so was Ren.

He just needed something, Grian decided, just a distraction, a person he cared about who he could put his energy into. Have a friend, possibly more. Someone who was simple to be around. Someone with whom he could spend time without feeling like he was wading through honey in a cyclone.

He could make a choice! The watchers didn’t control him! Well, that was a blatant lie. They absolutely did. But they didn’t control his relationships. Could they?

Well, he could try.

Now he just needed to figure out how to get BigB to be his soulmate and not Ren’s.

“We’re here for the adventure!” Ren called as he made up the hill toward Grian, trailing after Martyn like the excited puppy he undoubtably was and peering giddily down the mine.

“Hey BigB,” Grian flashed him a mutually fed-up smile as Ren and Martyn immediately started chatting about carrots and lapis and making plans. BigB tentatively returned his grin but his gaze fell back to Ren who pumped his eyebrows enthusiastically at him.

“Grian, lead the way my dude,” Martyn gestured into the mine and Grian sighed, pulling his pack onto his shoulders and bending to duck into the tunnel, “Into…death.”

“Wait you’ve got a pathway to the place already,” Ren tutted in impressed exasperation as he ducked into the flickering torchlight.

“Yeah” Grian shrugged, one hand trailing across the wall as he made his descent, as if marking his path on the stone, “I mean, I spent the better part of this week digging this thing and I- I want to die.”

They all laughed despite all of them knowing it probably wasn't a joke.

-

“Right.” Grian looked up from sorting his things and tutted in frustration, the sound echoing just a little too much in the small space. They were in the last respite cave, before the tunnel that would take them into the ancient city and skulk lined the walls, making every sound just a little too loud, and slightly dimming the torches. BigB watched him with captivated attention while Martyn tentatively prodded the skulk. Ren was presumably still in the tunnel. “Where is he? Where’s Ren?” Grian sighed in contempt, shooting a glare up the tunnel and then a pointed glance at BigB, “See that, BigB, he can’t keep up.”

He turned away as Ren made his stunning entrance, ducking out of the mine and muttered, “You’d be better off with someone else.”

-

“Okay, listen up guys,” Grian held up his hands in a demand for the groups attention, silencing their murmured discussion, “The gameplan.”

Ren and BigB nodded, leaning forward in captivation. Martyn leant against the wall, twisting his soulbound around his finger.

“We get in. We enchant. We get out. No funny business.”

Which was not a gameplan he thought anyone would follow, including and perhaps especially him. But it seemed worth providing a rule for them to break. It might be something of a deterrence.

He mentally gave a pre-emptive apology to Scar as they ducked into the next tunnel.

-

Nothing could have prepared any of them for the city. They’d heard stories of course, though none of them could remember when or where or from whom. They knew the basic premise. Make a sound, the Warden is summoned. The Warden is summoned and your as good as dead.

Martyn vaguely remembered reading somewhere that it was a little more complicated than that. There were chances and shriekers and technically speaking, ways it was possible to kill the Warden.

He wasn’t in a hurry to fact check.

The four of them rather quickly forgot about the dubiousness of their company, the context of all their relationships or their world. They were one, a unit. Because they all knew it was the only way they were making it out alive. To trust each other, even if just temporarily.

BigB and Ren’s hands were entangled, the fortunate combination of a righty and a lefty allowing them to have swords at the ready despite it. BigB was earnestly shocked at Ren’s tight sweaty grip. For all his cool dude persona, he seemed genuinely terrified.

Well, fair. The place was terrifying.

Every tap of their footsteps on the ancient stone felt like a violation, a ripple in the suffocating quiet. Still, they tread forward carefully through the streets of abandoned civilisation that they knew in the back of their minds where all the uncanny things were kept, probably had never been inhabited. This world was created, not abandoned.

As they made into the tangled streets, the darkness crowded further at the corners of their vision, laying a blanket over everything, snuffing their torches almost completely out. As if the light itself was being sucked out of the air. The atmosphere felt heavier and the silence became almost unbearable.

“I can’t see…anything,” Grian groaned, voice barely a whisper in Martyn’s ear. The two of them falling together by force of habit as the other two members of their party clung to each other, “But I think…” he watched the distance but his eye caught and he made a series of incomprehensible and probably far too loud noises, muttering, “Etho?” before clamping a hand to his mouth and cursing himself out in his head.

“Wait,” Martyn glanced around for any sight of the Warden and instead, his eyes landed on the moving figures in the distance that really didn’t look like a Warden. Grian was right. It looked like Etho. “Is someone else already here?”

“He’s there already?” Ren whisper-yelled and both Martyn and Grian jumped at how loud the sound felt.

“I think there’s an Etho,” Grian whispered back, though Ren could hardly hear him. He was far too scared to raise his voice louder when even the screaming in his head had dulled to a whisper. When even the voices of the gods who’d created this monster feared awakening it, Grian wasn’t about to take any chances.

-

“Wait is it safe?” Came Grian’s voice along with the smattering of footsteps as a whole party of wanna be enchanters made up the steps to the little table. “have you done it already?” It was a glorious sight, Martyn couldn’t help thinking, welcoming but also slightly threatening in its bursts of sparking magic and ominously floating book.

“Oh,” Etho shrugged, waving a hand like this was a casual walk in the park rather than a frantic run in the dark, “No problem.”

“No it’s not safe!” Impulse hissed, though the space around the glowing table felt lighter, the air thinner somehow.

“That was super easy,” Grian bragged sarcastically as he settled himself next to the enchanter and began digging through his bag for his weapons, armour and lapis, getting to work as quietly as he could.

“Okay, well,” Ren threw a hand up nonchalantly, taking a seat around the table also, “I dunno what we were worried about really.”

“Nothing at all,” Martyn laughed and Impulse glared at him. Oh he didn’t care. If the Warden were going to be summoned by them talking quietly, it would have been already. Still, he couldn’t help the creeping sense of unease as he glanced around. Like the city itself was holding it’s breath just waiting for something- anything to dare to disturb its oppressive stillness. Like it was a beast angry that it didn’t have a baby to maul and would settle for a kicking screaming adult at this point. “This is fineeee.” He wished he could believe it.

“Sure,” Impulse scoffed and Etho rolled his eyes, both of their tired frustration covered by several layers of sass and contempt, “We did all the hard work,” Etho griped.

Impulse was kind of annoyed that the others had just waltzed in when they’d been there for hours, finding the route to the enchanter and making it safe. The fact they’d been there first wasn’t much of a consolation prize when they didn’t even have the achievement to prove it.

Martyn let the others go first, keeping a watch around the place. The strange platform with the enchanter on it seemed a respite. Etho and Impulse were talking in normal voices and the others had followed suit. Perhaps it was just the illusion of safety magic had a way of crafting.

He watched Grian pour over the pages, running a finger over words and reading them with perfect pronunciation, magic sealing itself into his swords. One for him and one for Scar, presumably. His hand fell self consciously to Cleo’s sword and he glanced over his shoulder at BigB, handing tools to Ren who enchanted them and handed them back, the two of them working in perfect unison and getting through things twice as fast as even Grian’s habitual rhythm.

Martyn was angry that he couldn’t hate either of them. He wanted to be furious at BigB, to despise him just to give him somewhere to direct his frustration. The problem was, he liked BigB. There really was nothing about him to hate. And even he couldn’t hate someone he liked for the simple crime of being happy.

Maybe he could hate Ren but he knew he couldn’t. He’d left him first last season even when fate had been on their side. They both knew a little distance was what they needed.

His gaze fell back to Cleo’s sword, idle in his scabbard at his belt. It wasn’t worth drawing it. It wouldn’t do anything against the Warden. She was right. He needed friends. He was honestly better at making enemies, of which he had many already. But especially with the soul link, it wouldn’t be safe to have no allies and having allies outside of the soulbound could win the two of them the game.

He found his resentment for Cleo was quickly dissipating the more he thought through their conversation.

Grian tapped him on the shoulder and gestured toward the enchanting table. He’d apparently finished. Maybe he didn’t have as much gear to enchant as Ren and BigB. Martyn gave him an appreciative smile and went to sit across from the soulmates but he felt much less safe without personally keeping watch.

Nothing like your suspicions being dubiously confirmed to turn your paranoia into a premonition.

None of them were quite sure what it was exactly that set it off. They’d been talking at a normal volume the entire time they’d been in the vicinity of the enchanter. Surely, if that had been the issue, it would have gone off instantly. And they didn’t make any extra noise. But the sound could not be mistaken. A volatile high-pitched shriek that echoed in the vast city, assaulting their ears just as the dark fell thicker still, assaulting their eyes. The sound faded and left them completely disorientated. Even the light of the enchanter was dulled now. The space around them absolutely devoid of light. Even the inside of their eyelids were somehow brighter. There wasn’t even clear blackness, there was just nothing. Utter nothing.

There were a few moments of silence, the panting and hitching of everyone’s breath deafening. Then there was a low-pitched growl, just as deafening but for a completely different reason, ringing in their ears, nowhere and somehow everywhere. Like it was coming from inside their brains.

And then they started screaming.

Grian shrieked and took off running. Ren screamed and grabbed BigB’s hand, dragging him off. They all turned every which way, down laneways and across buildings, hitting walls and bridges and archways in their blinded state. Grian’s panicked wings knocked into structures as they desperately tried to help. Martyn’s blood rushed in his ears, every inch of him on fire with pain and adrenalin. They all screamed, even Etho who was probably the least panicked, was squealing like a pig to the slaughter.

Martyn threw himself off a roof, seeing a tiny speck of light illuminating a stone wall. But where? Where was the entrance? He couldn’t see it, hadn’t it been here? He was sure of it.

“It’s here, it’s here, it’s here!” he heard Grian scream and burst off in the direction of his voice, tripping and stumbling all the way. He finally saw the entrance and the two of them scrambled up the stairs, all limbs and panic and incoordination. As soon as he made it high enough in the tunnel that he knew the Warden couldn't follow him, he collapsed against the wall, incredulous laughter mingling with his genuinely terrified panting. His life had honestly flashed before his eyes just then. And he didn't like how few memories there were to flash. He'd like to cling to his green for a little longer.

Grian pushed his back against the wall, squinting into the dark looking for the others. Ren and BigB needed to get back. He didn’t particularly care about Ren but he did about BigB and they were linked after all.

Then the two of them sprinted up, BigB collapsing next to Grian and Ren going straight for the tunnel. Martyn climbed up into the cave above so Ren could make past him and the two of them leant their backs against the wall, breathing heavily and laughing hysterically.

“Where is he?” they heard Grian’s voice from below, just a little too curious. “Where is he?”

Grian knew he should probably be running for his life but BigB was right beside him, one hand on his shoulder as he caught his breath. He wasn’t about to waste this moment and he certainly wasn’t about to prove himself a coward. Instead, he bent and scooped a stone from the tunnel, watching as the darkness eased and they could see him, the Warden.

It was a towering bulky thing with long lumbering arms. Neither could determine from this distance if it were fur, scales or skin in shades of dark blue and green. It’s mouth was a gaping void, horns protruding from its head and at its chest, its bones jutted outwards, revealing a swirling void inside of what looked to be screaming faces, glowing blue through the dark. Its very presence was unsettling and instilled in the two of them the undeniable urge to run as far away as possible. Both fought through it, for the sake of what the other might think. It soulless empty eyes were staring right at them.

Grian tossed the stone about in his hand. The warden couldn’t see. That’s what he’d heard. It was all based on what he could hear. So…if he could just distract him.

“Can we hit him with the stone?” BigB muttered and Grian stared at him in terror for a  few moments, wondering if that were too gremlin of chaos even for him.

“Can I- can I hit it with the stone?” Ren’s voice floated down from the tunnel in disbelieving concern.

“BigB do you have a death wish?” Martyn hissed which Grian thought was rich coming from Mr ‘I go to the nether in the first week’.

“No,” Ren insisted, “Bad idea.”

Grian shook his head, laughing and poising the stone, “Okay, here we go. Distracting, distracting him.” He threw it with all the precision he could at the wall behind the blue glow. But he’d never been very good at aiming. That was Scar’s thing. And he couldn’t make that shot again if he tried.

It hit the Warden, square in the head.

He wasn’t sure if anyone noticed at first. Etho was too busy trying to climb down from the roof he was somewhat stuck on as quietly as possible and BigB was searching for a stone of his own. And the Warden just stood there for a few moments, laboriously lifting its head.

“Oh, oh I think I hit him with the stone so now he’s CHARGING US!”

The Warden had disappeared into the streets. Grian grabbed BigB by the shoulder, distracting him from trying to find a stone and pushing him toward the tunnel.

“Is he?” Etho sounded remarkably unconcerned but at that moment, there was a flash of darkness and the Warden was right there behind him, growling in that creaking horrible way, bearing its gaping mouth.

“YES! RUN!” Grian shrieked, running headlong into BigB who scrambled up the tunnel as fast as he could. The two of them falling over themselves and each other trying desperately to escape the sounds of screeching and cracking bones, the high-pitched wail behind them.

“BigB run! BigB run!” Grian screamed, no longer caring about how much noise he made. Adrenalin was the only reason they made it to the top. But just as the cave opened up around Grian, sound blasted in his ears and he slammed to the floor. He couldn’t work out what was his screams and what was the Warden. His ears burst with pain and his brain felt all fuzzy and wrong. He couldn’t move, his limbs like lead and breath scrambling beyond his reach. But he knew he was about to die here. He had to do something, he had to move, he had to get out of the way of the Warden.

The others were screaming, shouting at each other, panicking. He forced himself to crawl, to move. He made it about two inches, void no he was actually going to die.

Silence. Utter deafening silence.

His shriek quite quickly turned into a sob as he scrambled up, suddenly able to move, and pressed his back against the wall. He was sure the others could hear him in the utter silence, but no-one seemed to acknowledge him. Then as he sat there, utterly lost in a haze and the pain and adrenalin still racking his body, the sound around him slowly drifted back. They were all still shouting over each other, panicking, eating. They wouldn’t have heard his crying and they still weren’t really acknowledging him. He felt the pain slowly drain away and praised Scar for eating and resting because he was feeling stronger quite quickly.

“I’m leaving,” he stood on shaky legs and the other three looked up at him, nodding in agreement though he didn’t care. He’d got his enchantments. He was going. “I’m leaving that’s enough for me.” He made up the next tunnel, not even bothering to say goodbye, “That’s enough.

The other three grumbled agreements amongst themselves and made to follow him, leaving all the horrors of the deep dark behind them.

Chapter Text

Tango wasn’t having a particularly productive day. He was mostly just making his way through more of the server, trying to get his bearings because he really hadn’t yet which seemed like an issue in the long run.

He'd been at Bdubs’ place most of the day and really had meant to set off sooner, but he’d been sticking around as long as possible trying to see an opportunity to steal his horse. But one hadn’t presented itself, so he begrudgingly left for home as the afternoon began to turn cold and pale. Jimmy had gone mining, and he wasn’t sure he’d be back that evening. The idea of going home to an empty ranch made him somewhat dejected.

He spotted a panda in the jungle as he was heading home, which somewhat made his day. He wondered if Scar had them already and decided to stop by his and Grian’s base on his way.

“Tango, what horn do you have?” Scar called almost as soon as he arrived, putting a guiding hand on his shoulder and leading him inside a half-built wall outside of Grian’s spiked wall. Clearly, he’d have to deal with whatever this conversation was before mentioning pandas.

“I have the best horn!” Tango grabbed it from where it was tied at his belt and sounded it loud enough for Scar to take a step away.

“So, you and Tim both have the same one?” He leant forward on his cane, raising his eyebrows and smirking like a devil tempting men to sin.

“We have the team rancher horn yeah!” Tango did his best to maintain his happy-go-lucky demeanour despite Scar’s oddly sinister manner.

“That’s funny, okay,” he laughed, taking a step back and grinning ear to ear at the sky as if thanking the gods above for his fortune, before turning back to Tango with a smirk. “How much can I give you to get it.”

Tango frowned at him, not quite understanding. Jimmy had been going on, something about it being the reply to Grian’s horn. Maybe that was why Scar wanted it so they could have pair horns or something. But he quite liked the pair horns he had with his soulmate.

“I gotta have a horn back,” he reasoned, nodding at the horn in Scar’s hand, “But you’ve got a plain old boring horn, right?”

“No,” Scar gestured fervently, “We just take it away for like a few minutes from him so just like ask for it-”

“Will I get it back?” Tango interrupted his rather confusing explanation. Scar just wanted to borrow his horn? What was the use of that?

“Yes of course,” Scar nodded a little too much, grinning encouragingly.

Tango held out the horn with a shrug, “Oh, okay. Here you go.”

Scar stared at it for a couple of moments and then shook his head again, frowning up at Tango, “No, I need his.”

“Oh.” What, Jimmy’s? Now that was dodgy. Why did they want Jimmy’s? What difference did it make? They had the same horn; he’d just told him that. Besides, Jimmy clung to that horn like it was his most prized possession. Which is honestly probably was. “Oh, I can’t get his.”

“Yes,” Scar started nodding, his words too quick and jumbled with excitement to make any sense, “Yes you gotta get his that’s the part- that’s the…”

“Well how am I gonna-” Tango paused, trying to think through what Scar wanted of him, which only deepened his frown, “Okay and then just run away? That’s not very team like.”

He was fairly sure he knew exactly what Scar was asking of him. To betray his soulmate, steal his horn and then just run away to Scar for him to do void knows what with it. It didn’t seem like something he wanted to be on board with. But he also didn’t want to make enemies. Perhaps he could play both sides of this and talk to Jimmy later.

“No, ask him that you wanna do a little song,” Scar was rambling at a rather impressive pace, “And you’re like ‘boo, boo, boo, ba, boo, boo, boo, ba’ and then you just run and give it to me. Just for a few minutes.”

Tango stared in confusion as he worked through the words in his head and then straightened, muttering, ‘Okay. Alright, alright, alright, alright.” He held out a hand and Scar shook it without hesitation. “I’ll see what I can do.”

He turned away, satisfied with that answer. It wasn’t a promise, but it wasn’t a denial. He completely forgot about pandas until he got back to the ranch.

“Thankyou!” Scar called after him and he could hear the self-satisfied grin in his voice.

Tango couldn’t work out why everyone in this game seemed to hate his soulmate so much but if the task was to get them on side, with at least the alliance of the two of them. Then that was a task he would take up.

Cleo made her way across the hills, eyes fixed on the tower, a beacon of light against the dark sky. They’d worried at first that they wouldn’t be able to find it based on the vague description Scott had relayed from Pearl about a tower ‘off in the distance’.

The evening was oppressive around her, warning of monsters hiding in the shadows. She was far too tired for this really, but she needed to talk to Pearl. They needed to make sure she was okay. Scott seemed satisfied to just call her crazy and move on, but Cleo knew they had been friends, wanted to be friends still if it were in any way an option despite everything happening. Though she doubted it.

And although they were undoubtably terrified of Pearl, they somewhat felt bad for her.

She arrived at the base of the tower and glanced up into the sky. Tower was probably overstating it. It was more just a small house on really tall stilts. “Oh no,” they mumbled to themselves, glancing at the precarious ladder leading into the air like it might be some sort of trap somehow.

-

Pearl was having a nicer night than she’d had in a while. Scott was apparently still recovering from their little meeting and hadn’t been in constant and ridiculously excruciating pain, though her bones were still aching from the culmination of both their ice baths.

Still, she’d slept for the better part of the day, had some food that she shared with Tilly. Who, she might add, was taking to her remarkably well, staring at her anywhere she went and immediately clambering into her lap whenever she sat.

She’d dyed the collar, half just to hide the bloodstains. She’d gone for a nice vibrant yellow. Because Tilly had lost one life and now, she was on her yellow life. That’s how it worked for the people in this world, why couldn’t it be how it worked for dogs?

“Pearl…”

The sound cut through her little bubble and she scrambled up, glancing around like she might see someone right in front of her.

“What?” she yelped and scrambling toward the trapdoor, flinging it open to look down the ladder, “Who’s coming up the castle?”

“It’s me,” Cleo called back tentatively, clinging to the ladder like a lifeline, every reach for the next rung a cautious endeavour. “Your replacement.

“Cle-ooooooo,” Pearl whined, sitting down beside the trapdoor and staring with a tilted head as Cleo made their slow progress up toward her. “Replacement?”

“Yeah.”

“Replacement of what?”

Cleo glanced up and the two of them held each other’s gaze for a moment. Then they both burst out laughing, neither quite sure what was funny, but it felt right. The sort of incredulous delusional humour of neither of them knowing what to say, what was going on, where they stood. Cleo made it to the top rung and Pearl took a step back before rational thought could invade her mind, kicking the trap door closed so that Cleo had to duck their head to avoid being hit. They cursed as Pearl knelt down, putting her hands on her knees and cooing at Cleo, “Dear, would you like to come in?” Cleo glared at her, but Pearl just gave a smile that would be better suited over a newborn’s cot.

“Would I like to be kind and invite you in?”

Cleo climbed down a rung, so they didn’t have to curl their neck up if this conversation went on for any longer. Which she had a horrible feeling it would.

“I- I’m terrified of you, right now Pearl, not gonna lie.”

“I mean…” Pearl shrugged, leaning against the pillar beside the trapdoor, oddly enjoying having power over Cleo right now. Given how powerless they’d felt last night at their house.

“I’m not-” Cleo shrugged their pack up further onto their shoulder and began making down the ladder again. “I’m not feeling it.” They needed to show Pearl she didn’t have the power. They wanted to check on her but if she didn’t want the company, fine. They would leave. And they knew she didn’t want her to leave. So she just started climbing down the ladder, shaking her head like she’d decided it wasn’t worth the effort.

“It’s okay,” Pearl gushed, the way her resolve cracked instantly suggesting she hadn’t realised that was Cleo’s trap she’d just wandered into in her haze. “It’s okayyyyy,” she pushed the trap door open, tone assuring as if Cleo was genuinely concerned. Which they were but that wasn’t why they’d gone to leave. They made up again and this time Pearl stood back, letting them clamber up into the house.

“I have a lovely pet dog again!” Pearl gestured and Cleo followed her gaze to an alarmingly large dog, sitting in the corner and panting like a puppy. A little heart token hanging from its yellow collar. “Tilly’s back in my heart and I’m- I’m cured,” she laughed, going over to stroke her with a far gentler hand than Cleo had seen her do anything since the beginning of the season. She beamed at Cleo, still not taking her hand off Tilly’s fur. Something about the dog unsettled Cleo and they weren’t sure why. Something in its eyes, matching with it’s master, she supposed. Something not quite there.

“You can come in,” Pearl urged because Cleo was still lingering by the trapdoor. “It’s all good.”

“Okay,” they took a tentative step forward, staring at Pearl with an unwavering intensity, “Okay, so long as, so long as, so long as we’re good.”

Pearl finally broke the eye contact between them to smile at her dog, “As long as I have Tilly I’m fine.”

Cleo nodded, accepting that was probably true given Pearl’s alarming intensity about dogs and glanced about the small house. “This is cute.”

“Yeah!” She agreed, sweeping about and gesturing rather tiredly, “Yeah, just ignore the giant tree growing in the middle.”

“Are you literally the only person on this edge of the map?” Cleo frowned, going to the window to glance out over the plains, that stretched for miles around.

“Um, there is Impulse and Bdubs,” Pearl gestured out the opposite window to where Cleo was and they followed over to her, “all the way over there in that little…modern abode.”

All Cleo could see from here was a little glow of light and a faintly white wall. But it seemed like a lot compared to the absolute abandonment of the rest of the vicinity.

“Ohhhh,” they nodded thoughtfully, “I see, I see.” They really didn’t know what to say. The only reason they’d come was to check Pearl was okay, so they should probably be asking that. But the words kept getting stuck in their chest, refusing to move and making it hard to breathe. “This is cute,” they settled for instead, flashing Pearl a reassuring smile, “I like what you’ve done with the place.”

Pearl beamed, leaning against the wall with a shrug, “Thank you!”

“Particularly the um, greenery,” Cleo couldn’t help acknowledging the giant tree Pearl was somehow growing out of a pot right in the middle of the house, a hole in the roof that presumably would let rain in to water it. It looked almost designed, though it was a strange choice to have it right in the middle. Perhaps it was a strategic thing.

“Ignore the greenery okay,” Pearl snapped, whipping past Cleo to aggressively snap off a small branch and toss it into the corner, “It’s not- it’s not completed yet, okay? It’s as much as my little own self can do. You know? I’m all lonely.”

She took a step back from her rant and glared Cleo down, daring her to say something. And in doing so, giving her a perfect segway to the conversation she was too cowardly to have. Despite that being her sole intention of coming here.

But she was still a coward, she didn’t want to fight, and it was a foolish idea to do it in a tower right up in the sky. She couldn’t bear to think Martyn’s reaction if he went to the deep dark, but she was the one that died. Instead, she made for the trap door muttering, “Okay, I’m gonna-”

“I’m all alone Cleo!” Pearl cut her off, tears pooling at the corners of her eyes now and fists clenched by her sides.

“I know you’re alone,” Cleo sighed, resigned to the conversation now, “But- but like, you know,” they threw their hands up exasperatedly, their thoughts not properly forming into anything coherent. Pearl was being spiteful and bitter for now reason, holding a grudge for the sake of it. Just because her and Scott didn’t want her didn’t mean she had to go mad alone. “You could’ve, you could’ve found another group to go with.”

“Another group?” Pearl snapped, her volume catching Cleo off guard, “Another group?”

“Yeah, I’m sure-”

“Everyone’s soulbound!” she shrieked, half sobbing through all her words, “They-” she stopped to curse as her soulbound tugged then continued ranting, “Look at that! Look at that! You see? He’s taking damage.”

“You make your own soul binds Pearl,” Cleo tried, a little too obvious perhaps but doing her best. They just didn’t know how to be in Pearl’s presence right now she was so off her rocker.

Pearl swayed back onto two feet and folded her arms, leaning against the wall, “My soulbound is my dog. It’s Tilly.”

Her tone was fluctuating wildly between yelling like Cleo had murdered her first born, sobbing like she’d just lost a first born and muttering like she didn’t care about anything in the world.

It was terrifying Cleo, and they wanted to leave.

“Okay, I’m gonna, I’m gonna go and find schmoobles,” they muttered, wandering toward the trap door and stepping down onto the first rung, holding onto a branch of the tree above for support.

“Oh,” Pearl’s voice was so quiet Cleo barley heard it, but they could see the matching hurt in her expression.

“And we’re gonna- we’re gonna ah go for a ride.” They gave Pearl a hopeful and reassuring smile but could feel the concern drooping their eyes and ruining the expression. Making it somewhat pitiful.

“Oh,” Pearl wiped at her face furiously while nodding like that made perfect sense, “Okay.”

She’d expected Cleo to stay, to chat. Maybe to come with offer of an alliance. Certainly, to discuss everything more than they had. But no, Cleo couldn’t. They needed to be out of there. And so, Pearl would be alone. Again.

“I’ll talk to you again,” they promised as they began down the ladder, a little faster now that gravity was on their side. Pearl didn’t believe her for a moment.

“Okay,” She tried and failed to disguise the sob in her voice, wanting to put up some sort of a front of being okay on her own. She didn’t need Cleo. She didn’t need anyone. She was happy on her own! With Tilly! Still, she did want them to stay, to come back.

“Thanks Cleo!” she called after them, though she wasn’t sure what exactly she was thanking them for. Not avoiding her like the plague the way Scott was? “I appreciate the company.”

Which she honestly did, despite her wild claims of enjoying solitude, it was beginning to feel oppressive, stifling. More so than freeing.

“Um, I’ll see you later,” Cleo stammered up to them, really wishing they were home at this point and slightly feeling like crying. Scott was right. There was something deeply wrong with Pearl right now and she wasn’t sure she could help.

“Okay.” Pearl sniffed, moving to stare down the ladder as Cleo got further down, “Bye, bye.”

“Byeeee,” Cleo called, but it was more of a crying whine.

“Byeeee,” Pearl returned the sentiment and both held each other’s gaze for a solid moment. Imagining, all the what ifs streaming through their heads. Wishing for another universe where they didn’t have to part. Where they didn’t have to fight. Wishing they could figure out how to be. Missing the good days without the faintest clue how to get back to them.

Then Cleo disappeared into the dark of the forest and both were alone again.

Jimmy hadn’t meant to go to the deep dark.

Really, he hadn’t. He’d set off from home with a grand plan to be more productive. To make up for all the time he’d wasted on that stupid horn. He’d packed himself plenty of food and even made himself a sword and a shield so he could head down into the caves. Because really, the ranchers needed iron. Being the only team with leather armour was getting unbelievably embarrassing.

And he’d spent most of his time not going too far into the caves for fear of succumbing to a similar death as Tango had last week. He mostly got the most surface level iron, a bit of coal, whatever resources he could stuff in his pack that he thought might be useful.

He clambered out about midday, right back up to the surface level of the cave, stone faded from exposure to the sun and air just a little fresher. He checked his communicator as he stopped to eat and noticed the chat reporting people’s enchanter usage. That meant they were in the deep dark. They were in the ancient city.

Jimmy absolutely decided that he didn’t care. He needed to pace himself, to get his iron smelting. That was all he needed right now. He wasn’t nearly prepared for the deep dark, or enchanting. He’d be dead within two minutes. No. That was stupid and overly ambitious. He wasn’t going to do it.

But as he went down deeper into the cave again, he couldn’t help the growing dread as he started hearing…something. Something really bad. Something that oddly but deeply unsettled him and made him want to run for the surface and the ranch and Tango more than he already did. It sounded like the Warden.

He tried to ignore it, he really did. He tried to move on and go strip mining looking for more iron, since the cave had mostly been a bust once he’d gotten a bit further in and far too dangerous anyway. Soon, deep in his own bubble of mine, he couldn’t hear it anymore and was starting to wonder if he ever did. No, surely not, right? That was ridiculous. He wouldn’t have heard it all the way on the surface.

So, eventually, he began heading back up, with all the best intentions of going back up to the surface, home safe to his soulmate. But then he stumbled into a cave somebody had already lit up. And in that cave, he stumbled upon a staircase. It was impressively large; he could see all the way up to daylight upwards and down into nothingness in the other direction. It was quite literally a crossroads. A smarter man might have gone up. Without a second thought. Not Jimmy.

Jimmy immediately realised that this, this was where the deep dark was. And immediately, without a second thought, went down.

He was almost certainly making a bad choice. He shouldn’t be going anywhere near the deep dark. But he wasn’t going to go into the city. He was just going to have a look. Just see who was down there. That couldn’t hurt…right?

Then, just as the tunnel opened up into a little cave with dark green skulk creeping across the walls, he heard Ren yelling and jumped practically out of his skin, drawing his sword clumsily on instinct, managing to drop it and cursing.

“Oh my gosh,” he called out, to no-one in particular, scanning the cave walls because he still didn’t know where the voice had come from, “You scared the life outta me.”

“I’m out,” he heard Ren panting and frowned, standing up a little straighter and pacing to the end of the wall he could see, glancing around the corner only to reveal another, skulkier dead end.

“Where are you guys?”

“We’re in the ancient city,” Martyn’s faint and frustrated voice followed Ren’s and then BigB’s rather confused tone, “Where are you?”

“You do not wanna go in there, Jimmy,” Ren appeared from a tunnel Jimmy hadn’t even seen, shaking his head and pressing his back against a wall, scrambling for his water flask.

Martyn and BigB emerged from the tunnel after him, Martyn grinning and BigB surprisingly unbothered given his soulmate’s theatrics but both were shining with sweat and clambering to share Ren’s water.

“Do you wanna go back in?” Martyn shrugged, raising an eyebrow at Jimmy like it wasn’t a big deal, “There’s one chest left.”

And he knew he said he wasn’t going to. And he’d meant it. He really, really had. He paused, twiddling with his soul bind, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

But Martyn was already scrabbling through his pack, handing him a bag full of rocks and a bag full of lapis. To do enchanting. Not that he actually had anything to enchant because he had been in the caves to get iron for voids sake!

“Give it a go,” Martyn shrugged, as if it were a new way of cooking carrots and not a life-threatening venture into a possessed city.

“Wait, but where?” Jimmy asked before he could even process that was the question coming out of his mouth, “Where is it?”

“Nah, we’re not telling you,” Martyn shook his head decisively while Ren gave him a disappointed glare.

Jimmy just tried to find pockets for the stuff he’d been given him, so it was easy access, already subconsciously preparing though he’d sworn to himself he wouldn’t.

Martyn glanced at Ren and rolled his eyes turning back to Jimmy with a sigh, “Okay, I tell you what, I’ll give you a direction uhhh, South.”

Jimmy dragged his hands down his face, “It’s not south, is it?”

He didn’t have a whole lot of trust in anyone on the server really after the week he’d had. Just about everyone seemed out to get him.

“It’s south.” Martyn said which Jimmy still didn’t believe for a moment until BigB chimed in. “It is south.”

Jimmy glanced at him with a sigh, “BigB you’re the…best guy I know.”

Which might have been true before he’d met the less sinister side of Tango. Everyone else laughed and Martyn scoffed, “Wow.” BigB rarely lied unless he really needed to. He generally preferred to be honest. People said the same about Ren but after third life, Jimmy didn’t trust him for a moment. In the back of his mind, Jimmy knew that BigB also fought for Dogwarts. But that was vastly different to leading it.

“Where is it?” Jimmy insisted and BigB just shrugged, “It’s south.”

Then suddenly there was another voice in the mix, Etho’s this time, yelling, “Run, run, run, run,” as he scrambled up the tunnel the others had come from.

“Oh, it’s Etho!” Ren cried, dashing to the tunnel’s opening and holding out a hand, “Are you okay?”

“No!” Etho shrieked, grabbing Ren’s hand and hauling himself out of the tunnel. BigB grabbed Jimmy’s shoulder and directed him up the tunnel he’d came from, behind Martyn who was already running, calling to Jimmy, “He did chase us up here last time.”

Jimmy pressed his back against the wall, squashed in with the rest of them and stared at the tunnel down into the deep dark. He didn’t see anything. But the running and the screaming and the discussion of being chased by a Warden was too much for him.

“Oh, no but- I’m not doing this!” he yelled at the group of them as everyone drifted back into the cave, apparently evaluating it as safe. “You can’t just-”

“Dude, just do it!” BigB sighed, leaning against Ren who was just grinning at Jimmy like he was an amusing child.

“Why not?” Martyn scoffed as Etho muttered, “Oh you gotta at least see it.”

Jimmy just stared down the tunnel, into the skulky abyss. Fear made a stew of bile in his stomach. He wasn’t sure, about anything. About staying, about leaving.

“All you gotta do is enchant one piece,” Martyn reasoned, and Jimmy had to admit, he made it sound pretty easy, “And then everyone will know how cool you are.”

And that would show Grian, wouldn’t it? That he was just as cool and valued and brave as anyone else on the server. That would show Scott. That he could do things. Maybe it would even show Tango that he was a good soulmate, a helpful and productive one.

“Why but why have I got um-” Jimmy reached into the pocket where he’d stuffed Martyn’s drawstring bag and held it up with a perplexed frown, “Rocks.”

“Because if the Warden sees you then you can throw a rock elsewhere and then he’ll like walk away.”

Jimmy couldn’t really pay attention to Martyn’s explanation. Etho was heading up the tunnel and Ren and BigB were saying goodbye, he could definitely hear the creaking unsettledness of the deep dark now. But he knew Martyn was talking about the Warden. And that in itself was terrifying.

“I wanna enchant more,” Ren announced, heading past Jimmy, who squeezed out of the way, to make down into the tunnel, “I’ve got more stuff to enchant.”

Martyn made down after Ren with a beckoning head tilt at Jimmy who followed more on instinct than anything, palms too sweaty really to grip his sword and heart moving a lot faster than he was, every movement cautious and as calculated as was possible with fear taking over the vast majority of his brain.

“Oh, I can hear him,” he muttered though everyone else irritably ignored him.

BigB decided to head home, and Ren kissed him on the cheek, promising he’d be home soon. Jimmy pretended not to see Martyn scowling.

The three of them began creeping forward through the city and Jimmy couldn’t help but wonder how the hell he ended up here, doing this.

“If Tango knew I was doing this,” he whispered, laughing incredulously. He felt somewhat alive with exhilaration. Still, his soulbound glowed in front of him, the yellow hue reminding him with every step that he was one death away from mania and bloodlust and the end of everything he held dear.

It wasn’t a great feeling.

Ren ahead of him laughed under his breath, turning around to walk a little more beside Jimmy, “Just don’t place any blocks…”

“What’s it gonna cost you, for me to not tell him right now?” Martyn grinned sinisterly, waving his communicator at Jimmy who was struck by just how different the two men before him actually were. He’d been surprised at first that they weren’t soulmates. Now…he wasn’t so sure.

“Don’t walk, don’t jump, don’t fall…” Ren continued, counting on his fingers as he listed.

Was there anything he could do? Void, what had he gotten himself into?

“Everything,” he muttered to Martyn who snorted out a laugh.

“Don’t make any noise…”

But then Martyn’s communicator buzzed, and Jimmy gasped as he realised what Martyn and Ren probably knew the whole time and had just neglected to tell him. The little chat notification, telling everyone whenever someone got to the deep dark. Oh shit.

“Oh he- he knows now,” Martyn laughed, dashing past Jimmy across a bridge. He just stood there, fishing out his own communicator and staring at it in utter humiliation. This didn’t feel cool.

He was supposed to come back to the ranch all enchanted without Tango ever knowing. He hadn’t thought about the stupid chat messages. Void, Tango was gonna kill him.

And then things got worse, because why would things ever get better for Jimmy’s involvement. They actually saw the Warden, great lumbering beast that it was and had to be even quieter to avoid him noticing them.

Still, Ren insisted they should try to go around him to the enchanter, muttering, “No guts no glory boys,” as quietly as possible to which Martyn shrugged and started making a plan of a path, they could take to get there. And suddenly Jimmy didn’t understand how in the world they could not be soulmates.

He felt incredibly out of place. He shouldn’t be here. He should never have come this far, and he definitely shouldn’t go any further. Right?

Well, if he was right, he didn’t listen to himself.

And by the time he made it to the enchanting table, Jimmy realised how woefully underprepared he was that he didn’t even actually have anything to enchant. While Martyn and Ren immediately got to work, he had to muck about with the crafting table, dropping things and trying to shove stuff into his already overflowing pack. Martyn managed to swindle him an IOU for some lapis which he knew was a horrific idea, but he’d made it this far, he figured he may as well. He felt like he was making an utter fool of himself. But a little message popped up in chat that he was an enchanter. So that had to count for something right?

He'd just calmed a little, figuring they’d got past the scary Warden-y bit now and it would be smooth sailing from here. His ridiculous optimism as ever. Then suddenly Martyn was yelling at Ren who was grabbing his things calling, “My bad,” and the two of them were sprinting off. Martyn turned back and grabbed Jimmy’s arm, whispering, “Just run,” in his ear and then yanking him away.

Needless to say, he did as Martyn told him, sprinting with all his might. The darkness fluctuating wildly, plunging them into absolute blackness then blinding them with faint blue light. Jimmy stumbled hopelessly through streets he absolutely couldn’t see, Martyn’s tight grip on his arm a quiet reassurance he was going somewhat the right way. He blundered into structures that caused tumbling stone, his whole body searing in pain. Poor Tango was his only coherent thought in his brain consumed by the need to run, to survive.

Martyn yanked Jimmy into a tunnel and let go of his arm as light enveloped the three of them again. Jimmy dropped to the ground, legs shaking and face hot. He was sure he was either pale or bright red. He watched Martyn untangle his hand from Ren’s and the two of them clear their throats, awkwardly shuffling around one another to sit apart.

They sat there for only a few moments, Ren’s water passed around and the faint roaring of the Warden buzzing in their ears. But as soon as it faded, the other two immediately wanted to go back. Jimmy, wanted no part in that, immediately wanting out. He’d done it, he’d proven himself or whatever. He wanted to go home to Tango and grovel now.

Ren and Martyn eventually agreed it was time to leave and the three of them made it to the surface. Jimmy climbed out of the tunnel and was hit by a wall of fresh evening air, the cold stinging at his flushed face. He was surprised to recognise that he was home, the familiar silhouette of the ranch in the distance, with Tango sitting on the roof. He watched him, a figure against the setting sun, raise his horn to his lips, straight ahead toward Jimmy, the high team rancher notes carrying on the breeze. Jimmy returned it, trying his best to make the cheery notes sound apologetic. Ren and Martyn were muttering around him, but all Jimmy could see was Tango. Void, he hoped he hadn’t messed anything up.

The best thing that ever happened to him and he might have thrown it away over wanting to feel cool, with some delusion enchanting would cancel out how pathetic he’d felt this week. Now, watching his soulmate glared him down, he felt more pathetic than ever.

Etho noticed it as soon as he made it out of the tunnel to the deep dark which he honestly respected the dedication of whoever made that. And whoever made that boat. But he knew who it was.

His soulmate, his brilliant builder soulmate had actually realised his outlandish idea. An elegant silhouette, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun, all sleek lines, polished wood gleaming and billowing sails that caught in the breeze. A boat, on land, on a hill.

And as a boat boy, how could he not be unbelievably excited about that.

-

“Joel!” Etho called as he made up the hill, the sun fully set now and the torchlight flooding from the boat a welcome relief. He still couldn’t get over the boat. It was even more impressive close up. “I saw it from a mile away, it’s beautiful!”

“Thank you,” came the reassuringly upbeat voice of his soulmate. He’d been a nervous wreck all day, trying to figure out what to do about what Bdubs and Impulse had told him. He just wanted to talk to Joel. To just spend more time in his presence. Because he’d been so sure that they were happy together and now all this doubt was crowding his mind. He needed to be in his presence again to be reassured that it was as great as he’d remembered.

“I assume you’ve been to the deep dark.”

Etho made it to the top of the hill and dropped his pack before pulling Joel into a hug. He laughed in surprise and a little bit of exasperation. As if suggesting Etho was being ridiculous.

“Yes, yes,” he grinned, withdrawing and detaching his scabbard from his belt. “Had some, adventures and journeys and things.”

J nodded, readjusting his clothes from Etho’s hug and clearing his throat awkwardly, “Looking nice and enchanted,” he pumped his eyebrows, trying desperately to turn the conversation closer to two bros chatting than some sort of Bdubs and Impulse married couple bullshit. “What’d you get, just protection?”

“Uh,” Etho rubbed the back of his head, sheepishly looking down at the distinct lack of magic shine in his boots and pants. “I got chased away from the enchanter by the Warden, so I didn’t really get much I got like- an enchanted pic and axe and like one armour piece and that was it.”

“You saw the Warden.” Joel repeated in insulted shock, “Etho, you realise, if you die, I die, right?”

Etho glanced up at Joel with a sheepish smile that made Joel scoff out laughter and turn away toward the boat. The gorgeous boat. Seriously, why were they talking about what he’d done when Joel had built a fucking boat.

“There’s like five of them down there,” he muttered, figuring he should probably put all the information on the table and kind of wanting to rile up Joel more.

“Oh WHAT?” Joel whipped around with a manically angry energy.

“We’ll be fine,” Etho muttered but Joel was yelling now.

“There’s five!?”

Etho said nothing so he just sort of deflated, running a hand frustratedly through his hair and tutting to himself, “Oh my gosh.”

Etho slowly went through all the things he’d get from the deep dark, telling the story as he went with Joel hanging on every word, oohing and aahing at the appropriate moments and grabbing things excitedly to examine them like they were a treasure map.

“We’ve got some bases popping up around here now, it’s good.” Joel commented, leaning back in the grass as Etho moved all the spoils of his adventure from their pile in front of his soulmate into a chest.

“Well especially the boat,” Etho grinned up at it, raising an eyebrow at Joel who turned away with a nervous laugh. Etho was honestly surprised at how self-conscious he was about his building. It was remarkably out of character for him. The sort of abashed downplaying continued with the tour.

“So…it’s a boat.”

Understatement of the century.

“It’s a ship. I’m calling it the relation,” Joel announced and Etho frowned, knowing there was something he was missing there. It was a common feeling today.

“The- the relation?”

“Yeah,” Joel nodded, hanging onto every second, waiting for Etho to get it, his face bursting with excitement, “But what- it’s the relation what?”

“…ship.”

They both burst out laughing, Joel’s manic giggle meeting Etho’s chuckle. It was a weight off both their chests for something to be as simple as that. As just carefree laughter between the two of them.

Etho shook his head, taking a deep breath of the fresh air, still feeling like creeping shadows were in the corner of his vision, the leftover paranoia from the mine. “I love it,” he murmured, sitting on the railing of the crow’s nest (which was probably a really bad idea), legs swinging over the edge. Joel sat beside him, bumping him in the shoulder.

“You’re definitely pulling your weight as a partner, I gotta say,” Etho gushed, gesturing around with a tired smile.

“Yeah well,” Joel shrugged, trying to sound casual. But Etho could hear the genuine kindness in his voice that he was desperately trying to hide. “You got some good stuff as well.” He paused, letting the slight awkwardness linger in the air between them. Comfortable but also waiting, for the other shoe to drop or perhaps the first. “We’re- we’re- I feel like we make a good pair.”

Etho nodded and they both just sat there for a moment. He tried not to let thoughts of Bdubs and Impulse’s words infect his mind right now. He didn’t want to doubt Joel in so innocent a moment. Whatever happened tomorrow happened, but for tonight, he wished nothing more than to sit here. Him and Joel, letting the world pass them by, existing in this moment, just the two of them, up at the top of their ship, close to one another.

That was all they needed.

“Jimmy, Jimmy! We need to have a discussion here!” Tango yelled, standing up now on the roof of the house, glaring down his soulmate.

“Tango-” he started but his soulmate gave him no time to finish whatever thought that was going to be.

“We need to have- you’re risking your yellow life!”

“I can explain!” Jimmy held his hands up in surrender and Tano folded his arms with somehow more disappointment and sass than even Scott had ever mustered. “Uhuh?”

“I can explain alright?”

“You got some ‘splainin to do bestie!”

Jimmy hung his head as Tango refused to move his gaze. He felt so accountable under his watch. He should have known better, he should have been stronger. Excuses that might have come out defensively with anyone else just fell flat.

“Peer pressure,” he mumbled, realising how dumb it sounded, “That’s the explanation.”

Tango just groaned, shaking his head into his hands.

Martyn immediately started defending himself. Saying he didn’t do shit. Jimmy wished he’d go away. He made into the gate and let himself inside just as Tango began clambering down from the roof of what was a new and actually quite nice tower, an extension of their little house that had been too small for a while now really.

“Martyn went if you don’t do it, I’m gonna tell Tango,” Jimmy continued in a tone that told Tango it was probably a joking lie but he doubted it was far from the actual truth, knowing Martyn. “And I- I had to go in.”

Tango jumped to the ground and locked eyes with Jimmy, still lingering near the gate. He shook his head, both of them making towards each other before either was actually aware it was forgiveness. Tango wrapped his arms around Jimmy who curled into his embrace, arms winding around his waist and head buried in his shoulder.

“I see, I see how it is.” Tango laughed into Jimmy’s ear, running a hand soothingly through his soulmate’s grimy cave dust hair. He could feel his heartbeat causing a racket against his. He was scared and tired and sorry. Tango could feel all of it though he wasn’t sure how much was the soulbound, intuition or just their closeness.

“This is looking lovely by the way,” Jimmy gushed, glancing at the building over Tango’s shoulder. He turned with a laugh, moving his arm to Jimmy’s shoulder, so they could both gaze upon its splendour. “Oh yeah, you noticed my super beautiful tower?”

The two of them just laughed into each-other’s shirts then Jimmy glanced sheepishly up at him, silently asking forgiveness. Tango just kissed him, letting his smile speak for itself as he squeezed Jimmy’s hand and headed off toward the new and improved ranch house. “Bed?” he called, and Jimmy hurried to catch up with him, nodding exuberantly, “Bed.”

Etho had to go back to Bdubs and Impulse’s anyway to get his horse back. He’d come back out at the other side of the map in the tunnel conveniently near his base, but inconveniently away from where his horse was. Someone had said the tunnel was Grian’s, but Martyn was trying to claim ownership, probably just to annoy Grian who’d tripped him face first into a rotting door.

But he didn’t just go back to Bdubs and Impulse’s for the horse. He’d probably never take Joel to do that given his simmering hatred for horses, and he grudged the whole way that ‘stupid horses, why’d you need a horse Etho,’ in that annoyingly endearing way he said his name that sounded more like eeffo.

The sun was setting by the time they arrived and Etho was mildly confused at why the two of them had decided to live quite so far away from everyone else. Might be good in the long run, but right now it was a pain in the ass for everyone. Though he noticed a tower off in the distance and vaguely wondered who that belonged to.

Tango was hanging out, sitting around in the short cut grass of Bdubs and Impulse’s garden. People just hanging out with other alliances was one of those green days things everyone just forgot about. But missed in the last moments.

“Do you guys have sugarcane by the way?” Joel wandered into the garden, kicking at the grass with a disgusted scowl at the domesticity of cutting grass and leaning against a tree. “Have you found sugarcane?

Etho followed him with a much more tired demeanour, heading for the house trying to remember where he put his horse. Impulse was sitting under a tree in the yard, quietly watching Bdubs who was ploughing the farm with a distracted diligence.

“No,” Tango sighed, before more enthusiastically cheering, “We’re looking.”

“Etho, your horse,” called Bdubs, waving him back toward the garden, “No, it’s over here.”

“Oh, right yeah.” Etho tutted to himself, “I put him outside.” He remembered now, tying his horse to the tree yesterday morning. But now it wasn’t there, and he frowned at Bdubs who lead him around to the side of the house, “Yeah I hid it so nobody got tempted.”

“Thank you,” Etho muttered, untying the horse with gentle pats, trying to ignore that he could feel Joel’s glare on him.

“Like TANGO,” screamed Bdubs at a rather unbothered Tango who glanced up from the grass with a frown, “What?”

“Tango,” Etho scoffed, smirking at Tango with a disbelieving tone but an absolutely believing smile, “You wouldn’t.”

“Yeahhh,” Bdubs threw him a disgusted glare, “Horse thief.”

“Ohh, there’s a horse.” Tango sighed, shaking his head at the ground, “If only I knew.”

There was a moment of silent judgement around the group as they all glared at Tango with varying levels of contempt. From Bdubs’ disgusted scowl to Joel who just looked vaguely amused. Tango put his hands up in surrender but made no apologies with his smirk. “Team rancher needs a horse,” he shrugged, “This is what we gotta do.”

“This is against our brand,” Joel grumbled for what must have been the hundredth time since they’d set off, “We’re boat boys.”

Etho said nothing for a few minutes, listening to Joel chat with Tango while watching Bdubs and Impulse, sitting against the wall of their house doing nothing in particular, it looked like they were examining one another’s hands, and laughing incessantly. He wasn’t staring, not that they would have noticed if he were. Eventually, he figured Joel would start demanding answers of him soon if he didn’t do the thing he’d come to do.

“Joel,” he murmured, tapping soulmate on the shoulder and motioning him away from his conversation with Tango toward Bdubs and Impulse,

“Yep?” Joel bounced over with that endearingly manic energy of his, grinning ear to ear until he caught the look on Etho’s face.

“We need to have a talk.”

For a few moments, he didn’t move his eyes an inch from Etho’s. Then he glanced at Bdubs and Impulse, who looked just as freaked out. Then back to his soulmate, concern boiling in his stomach. Trying and failing to act cool, unbothered.

“Why?”

Etho sighed, turning back to Bdubs and Impulse with a sceptical frown, “I’ve been hearing things, that I- I think they’re just rumours.”

Which made Impulse frown and Bdubs scowl and both of them stand. Joel didn’t think he’d ever been so clued on to everyone’s expressions around him. It was usually something that slipped beneath his watch. “But I dunno,” Etho shrugged, turning back to Joel with the most hopeful expression in his eye, “because apparently you’ve been saying things about me to Bdubs and Impulse?”

“I’ve not even seen Bdubs and Impulse!” Joel shrieked, turning to the two of them with an army turning fury.

Etho was almost impressed at how little time Joel spent processing, immediately clocking on that they’d been telling lies, spreading rumours. Surely if he were defending himself, there would have been an at least slight delay.

Instead, he took several aggressive steps toward them, making them stumble backwards into one another as he yanked off his waistcoat to reveal his truly horrifying shirt and screamed, “Would someone, with this on their chest, say anything bad about ETHO!”

Bdubs and Impulse just stared for a solid moment, not quite sure what to say as Joel took a few steps backwards, breathing in short bursts and huffs. If Etho hadn’t already been convinced they were lying, he was now. They were definitely seeing Joel’s shirt for the first time.

“Wow,” Impulse scoffed, “Somebody’s uh…”

“Nooo, Joel come on.” Bdubs shook his head, giving Joel a ‘fess up’ kind of look that made Etho want to run him over with his horse.

“Etho don’t listen to them,” Joel turned back to him with a pointed glare, now buttoning up his waistcoat a button out. Etho didn’t have the courage to tell him that right now. Even if he wasn’t the one he was mad at.

Instead, he turned to Bdubs with the most disgusted look he could muster with half of his face covered, “Just rumours, right?”

“Why would you trust these guys?” Joel yelled, a little hurt creeping into his voice as he held Etho’s gaze. Then he turned away, scoffing like it was all just ridiculous, “They are just rumours.”

“Wowww,” Etho glared at Bdubs, wishing he were surprised, “Okay. That’s what I thought.”

Because he didn’t trust Bdubs, but he wished he could.

“I- it’s fine.” Bdubs shook his head, throwing his hand up in surrender “Do what you have to do. I didn’t wanna be part of this dispute, okay?” He glanced away from Joel with a raised eyebrow that somehow stirred Etho’s distrust again, “I didn’t want this in front of me.”

“That’s fine,” Impulse nodded at Bdubs and the two of them stood together, glaring down Joel and Etho. “We were keeping our mouths shut.”

“Etho, you know what this,” Joel met Etho’s gaze intensely, demanding his attention and refusing to let him look away. “I think they’re projecting on us what they’re- the problems they have with their own relationship.”

Etho grinned, delighted that Joel was exactly where he was. Convinced the two of them were lying, expelling all the doubt in his mind the moment he looked his soulmate in the eye.

“I think so,” he mused, tossing a smirk at the pair.

“Nope,” Bdubs shook his head vehemently, “Nope, no.”

“They’re not happy with their partner so then they try and make everyone else less happy to compensate.”

Which Bdubs had to admit, was the closest anyone had gotten to foiling them. But it wasn’t because they were unhappy. It was because they were smart, they had strategy. They were getting allies for the long run.

Etho was just thrilled at how much it was frustrating Bdubs. Joel always knew the perfect way to get to people.

“Impulse,” he fixed his gaze on the other man for the first time all conversation, surprised by how unbothered he seemed, “Look at Bdubs right now.”

“Yeah?”

“That’s what he looks like on his green life. When he gets to red life, there’s gonna be nothing left of that face.”

Which earned him a cackle from Joel that felt exhilarating and a big laugh from Bdubs that felt like home.

“He’ll still be beautiful to me!” Impulse took Bdubs’ hand, smiling into his eyes. It made both boat boys stomach’s curl, for completely different reasons.

“Get out while you can,” Etho snapped and Bdubs glanced at him with a hurt expression that made him cringe so he mumbled, “I’m just saying.”

Then Bdubs’ gaze hardened into a glare, and he snapped, “Stop it!” and turned back to Impulse, petulantly ignoring Etho and Joel.

Joel just rolled his eyes and dragged Etho away, mumbling, "C'mon Etho."

Tango hated the night; he really did. Every shadow could be a lurking creature, every gust of wind a whisper of something unseen and dangerous. Back home, wherever that was, he had a faint memory of enjoyable evenings, cast in golden glow of torchlight for miles around. Here, in these horrid games, there was no such peace. Perhaps within the walls of the ranch, but even then, the low menacing growls of zombies put him uncomfortably on edge.

He'd only been out because he’d been looking for sugarcane all day, across the far reaches of the world. Completely unsuccessfully.

There was absolutely none, throughout the entire world it seemed. He was sure there’d been some when they’d started. The Watchers generally ensured to include some. It would make for rubbish death games if no-one could make anything explode, which they couldn’t do without sugarcane for TNT. So, someone on the server was very, very lucky or very, very smart. Probably both. And was keeping a monopoly of sugarcane hidden from everybody else. Which would make them very, very rich.

Or a massive target.

As he made home, he passed by the spiked wall and whatever wall Scar was building next door. If he had to put money on the most likely pair to be lying and monopolising, well. History wasn’t in the favour of the two on this side of the hill. Of all the soulmate pairings on the server, these two were the ones he most wanted on side. Being sandwiched between Scott and Cleo, and Grian and Scar was not a perk of the ranchers location. They seemed the pairs most likely to burn the world down for one another, which may include the ranch in between. He’d like to start building alliances with them. He’d had pretty good conversations with Cleo and Scar, though Scott and Grian seemed to have a vendetta against Jimmy for some reason. His soulmate sure was good at collecting enemies and he wasn’t quite sure how given how generally endearing a person he was.

Though, rumour had it Scar and Grian were not the dynamic duo they’d once been. He wasn’t sure where he’d heard it, but he was sure someone was reporting trouble in spiky paradise, which somewhat explained the dubious living situation brewing up on that hill. Tango was absolutely fine with that. So long as Scar and Grian were fighting with each other, they weren’t teaming up against the rest of the server. Because everyone knew how that turned out last time.

“This is what a real base looks like,” Grian scoffed, as Tango passed by and he just laughed, gesturing off into the distance as Scar showed up beside Grian, leaning on the spiky wall.

“Ohh, have you not seen the foot tower?” Tango frowned, as if genuine, trying to channel his inner Jimmy, who seemed full of endless wonderment of his building, “It’s amazing. What’s up Scar?”

He was staring, really quite intently and waved his cane aggressively at Tango as if it were obvious, “Did you bring the horn?”

“No!” Tango scoffed, remembering this conversation with Scar. He had to admit, after he’d seen Jimmy went to the deep dark, he’d been considering actually going through with the plan as some kind of payback. But that wasn’t productive for either of them and certainly not their relationship. “I’m only, he’s only been in my presence once so far and he’s- he’s…”

He basically immediately collapsed home from the deep dark once he’d washed and ate and hadn’t woken up yet when Tango left this morning. But he didn’t want to explain all that. Information was leverage in these games. Even seemingly trivial information. And Scar and Grian seemed to love giving out that information for free. The way Scar tried to straighten a feather in Grian’s wing, and he slapped his hand away, scowling.

Definitely trouble in spikey paradise.

“Are you tryna get if off Tim?” Grian turned from where he was compulsively doing chores and raised an eyebrow at Scar who nodded enthusiastically.

“I’m trying to, yeah.” Tango sighed. He’d made up his mind now. He really didn’t want to antagonise these two. If him and Jimmy could have them on side, that would be ideal but just not enemies would be better too.

“Oh, my goodness,” Grian laughed in a way that made Tango vaguely scared for his safety, but still didn’t look up from hammering at the base, “That would be soo good.”

“All you have to do is be like ‘Tim, Tim’” Scar began and Tango already knew this was gonna be a ramble he couldn’t follow, “’do you wanna make some music together and then go ‘boop, boop, boop’ and then you run over here and then Grian and I will give you some kind of prize.” He nodded at Tango’s raised eyebrow then turned to his soulmate, “Right Grian?”

Who hummed absent-mindedly, flipping his hammer in his hand then nodding, “Something like, just be like ‘ah you wanna swap horns?’ and then-”.

“Like his diamond um, his diamond sword,” Scar chimed in, cutting off his soulmate, which already told Tango more than he thought they probably wanted him to know. “He’ll give you his diamond sword,” Scar announced confidently, gesturing to Grian’s scabbard at his belt, but Grian’s head immediately snapped up, shock and offence creasing into anger across his face.

“Diamond sword?” Tango nodded, tapping his foot in the grass, “I like that, right?”

“Wait, what no!” Grian elbowed Scar and he yelped but said nothing as the other man turned away, detaching his scabbard and tucking it into his chest, ranting with spite on his tone, “You can’t- you can’t barter things that I own! Just because we’re tied together doesn’t mean you get to barter my items!”

Scar didn’t seem as deterred by his anger and his roughness that bordered on violence as maybe he should have, going up closer, one hand on Grian’s shoulder that he immediately shook off and muttered, “Dude, just think of it Grian, it’ll be amazing. We’ll have the horn.”

If Tango hadn’t been sure based on his previous interaction with Scar why they wanted the horn, he was now.

“No-” Grian laughed, smiling affectionately at Scar but with so much fury in his eyes.

“And then we can- we can mock him without the horn it’ll be amazing.”

And if he hadn’t been sure a few seconds ago, he certainly was now. And he made his choice. He didn’t want to help them. He wasn’t about to tell them that, he wanted them on side, after all. But he didn’t want to be a part of the server-wide effort to bully and socially outcast his soulmate. Tango and Jimmy were gonna be ride or die. And he needed to accept the unfortunate side effects that the ‘ride’ option seemed to include.

He left them to their bickering, quietly thinking to himself as he made up over the hill that him and Jimmy may be looked down on, but they were ten times happier than those two and their petty squabbles.

Evening was fading quickly to night, the last trace of the day scrubbed from the horizon, from the air around Cleo and schmoobles. Leaving the atmosphere oppressively dark and startlingly cold.

They made their way away from Pearl’s house. It had taken them most of the day to get there, it would probably take them most of the night to get back. They enjoyed seeing more of the server though, seeing buildings popping up and identifying where everyone lived. They noticed a light in the window of a nearby house and hopped off schmoobles, leading him toward the door and knocking frantically. They really needed to be out of the dark and they were quite sure Bdubs would want to help out. The two of them had a good track record after all. He was someone she trusted to be there for her. And even if Impulse wasn’t, they could overlook that for tonight.

The two of them welcomed her in with big smiles, the warmth of their fire, crackling in the corner, giving the house a really warmly feel. They offered her to stay for dinner, the night if she wanted. They had extra soup and space anyway and soon, the three of them were sitting around the table, talking and laughing like the last year hadn’t existed and they were right back in the early days of third life.

Their bowls were mostly drained of their soup by the time Bdubs had the guts to start the conversation he’d been wanting to since he saw her at the door.

“Uh, Cleo?” He mentioned, making a pointed look at Impulse who nodded enthusiastically. And they were a go. So far, they had a half-half success rate. It would be great to increase that.

“Yes?” Cleo looked up from their soup to smile at him and he sat up a little straighter.

“Have you heard what uh, Martyn in thy Littlewood has been saying about you, behind your back.” He sort of spluttered it out and at first cringed at the messiness. But Impulse had been explaining to him that sometimes the messiness worked. Because if Martyn really had been talking to them, Bdubs would be apprehensive about approaching Cleo. It made sense in the context of the lie. And, well, actually saying Martyn had issues with her wasn’t entirely a lie because he hadn’t been nice when he’d come by.

“Ah no I haven’t,” they sighed, remarkably unbothered by the idea that their soulmate had issues with them. Maybe the hate Martyn had exhibited was reciprocated? “What’s he been saying?”

“He said bad things,” Bdubs mumbled, staring at the table and refusing to look Cleo in the eye. He knew he wouldn’t be able to lie with that gaze fixed on him. “And I can’t- I’m not allowed to say.”

“Wowww,” Cleo’s gaze was fixed unblinkingly on him, frowning sceptically. Clearly, she was going to take some convincing, “That’s incredibly rude.”

“Yep,” Bdubs shrugged, still glaring the table down like he was trying to convince it, tapping his spoon absent-mindedly against his bowl, “He’s got bad plans for you.”

It seemed Cleo and Martyn were already at odds, to a certain extent. But they needed Cleo to be reliant on them. And if they were already angry at one another, the next way to do that was to convince her she wasn’t safe in his vicinity. That she needed their security and protection.

Cleo leant back a little in their chair, glancing between Bdubs, staring at the table like his life depended on it and Impulse, giving her a pitiful smile.

And was immediately suspicious. One of the most important things, Cleo had quickly learned, in these games, was to know when people was lying. It was why Jimmy was always the laughingstock and why Scott always did so well. Because he could see through peoples bullshit and Jimmy couldn’t. On the spectrum of Jimmy to Scott, Cleo was much closer to Scott. They had a fairly good radar for bullshit once it was activated. Which it firmly was now. She knew Bdubs, she knew when he was shitting her.

“There’s just something about this mid-century modern house, that just-” Impulse shrugged, glancing over at Bdubs who hummed and nodded at the wood, “People come and they vibe, Cleo. And then they just open up with all their feelings about their partnerships.”

“Yes.”

“It’s the weirdest thing.”

“Ohhh,” Cleo nodded, deciding to play along until they had more information. Indulge the two of them until they were absolutely sure what they were up to. It didn’t seem like a lie after all. They wouldn’t be surprised if Martyn was talking shit behind their back. But it didn’t seem like he was after revenge. He was trying to win her back! And having ‘bad plans’ for her wasn’t the way to do that. “Right so uh-”

They needed to ask questions, get more information, figure out what was going on. They folded their arms, sifting the thoughts in her brain and settling into an interrogative role.

“I’m gonna need you to tell me what Martyn’s been saying about me.”

“We can’t-” Bdubs finally looked up then bit his tongue under Cleo’s gaze. She really did have a knack. “Well, it’s not saying, talking about you.” He mumbled, “He has a- a plan for something aaaand…”

He trailed off, squeezing his fists and pressing his lips into a line.

“Okay,” Cleo shrugged and stood, letting her chair scrape loudly across the floor, and making for her coat hung by the door, “I’m just gonna tell him you told me.”

Bdubs flashed a panicked glance at Impulse who shot him a reassuring smile. Neither of them had counted on how much open communication there seemed to be between soulmates. Even the ones that were at odds.

“Just might be a good idea to sleep with your eyes open, that’s all.”

Impulse with the save, as ever. It might have worked if Cleo weren’t fully lie-detector mode by now. And everything they were doing was suspicious. Not directly responding to her statement, being evasive.

She still didn’t know what, but something definitely wasn’t right.

“Sleep with your eyes open and feel free to spend time with us as much as you need.”

Oh. Right. Feeding her lies then playing the knights in shining armour. You’re not safe, here let us save you. Getting allies who depended on them. They were doing exactly what she’d told Martyn to do, but with a far more sinister approach.

“If you need a home, if you need a place of safety and refuge, this is- this is- we open our doors.”

Unfortunately, she still wasn’t Scott. They still had doubt, and they still held onto trust longer than they should. And surely, surely if Bdubs wanted them as an ally, he’d just ask. They weren’t at odds. He didn’t need to manipulate her. Gaslighting was her thing, no-one else’s. Which probably had her stepping on Scott’s toes. And now she was doubting, sure, something was odd about Bdubs and Impulse, but she still trusted them more than Martyn? Right?

“I gave him my sword last night,” she grumbled, leaving her coat and turning back with a furiously pointed finger.

“I can’t believe it!” Bdubs hit the table and tutted in frustration Cleo matched, spitting, “How dare. How dare he!”

But as her frustration grew so did her suspicion. Bdubs’ tone was disbelieving of his own conjecture. Was he not believing she’d given him her sword or that he’d betrayed her despite that? Maybe she was overthinking things, but something definitely wasn’t right.

“We’re good listeners Cleo,” Impulse called from where he was still sitting calmly at the table, unbothered by Cleo’s furious stance or Bdubs beside him standing with his hands gripped on the table, knuckles white and face red. “You can tell us all- all your grievances.”

Cleo didn’t trust Impulse for a moment. They didn’t trust their own judgement of him either. They’d trusted him in third life. She thought he was kind, well meaning, innocent. She thought she could tell when he was lying. She’d been rather aggressively proven wrong and now she didn’t know. They were pretty sure he was lying, but maybe he wasn’t. If she couldn’t tell when he was lying, maybe she couldn’t tell when he wasn’t.

“Like you see,” he continued, gesturing between himself and Bdubs without taking his gaze off her eyes for a moment, “We keep our mouths shut.”

Bdubs couldn’t look her in the eye and Impulse wouldn’t stop meeting her gaze.

Cleo didn’t know what to think. But they knew what Impulse was spouting was bullshit.

“You do keep your mouths shut I mean,” they sighed, letting their posture slump just a little bit, “I- it feels like you’re on his side really.”

Neither of them said anything but Bdubs looked a little hurt so Cleo dialled back a bit, “So why won’t you tell me?”

“Well yeah,” Impulse shrugged, giving her an apologetic smile as Bdubs sunk into his seat. “We- like to stay with our promises. We like to keep our promises and we kinda did make a promise.”

“Right,” Cleo tutted, turning to grab their coat again. They didn’t care at this point. They’d just go to Martyn and ask him what was going on and come back to discuss with Bdubs and Impulse. She didn’t want to stay the night anymore; all trust in either of them dashed by this interaction.

“Well, he has a plan for your demise,” Bdubs blurted out and Impulse shot him a glare which made Cleo believe it all just a little bit more. Impulse’s casualness, probably the one who made the promise, trying to keep as many people on side as possible. Bdubs and his, if questionable at least existent, morals, that wanted to tell Cleo really badly but didn’t want to let down his shiny new soulmate. “That’s all I can say.” he sighed and tutted at himself.

Still, all social evaluation aside, the content of his words was befuddling. Martyn wanted her dead now? Martyn was many things but spiteful wasn’t one of them. From her impression, he was actually fairly quick to forgive and forget. Emphasis on the forgetting. Martyn was just selfish, that was all. He didn’t want to have to include Scott in his soulmate pairing. He didn’t want to have to take accountability. He didn’t hold loyalties or grudges. He was just in it for himself, looking out for number one.

And they couldn’t see how killing them served him.

Just as they shrugged their coat on, they doubled over, swearing as her ears rung and her body shuddered, hissing through the pain. It was surprising, given where Martyn was and what he was doing, that this was the first time she’d been in that kind of pain.

“Oh, Cleo no!” Bdubs dashed forward, taking her arm and gazing up at her, eyes wide with concern, “Is it happening right now?”

“No, no, no, no,” they muttered, straightening and shaking him off, “He’s being very careful.”

“Are you okay?” the two of them asked in unison, both watching her carefully, watchful gazes that could be concern for her wellbeing but in her hyper suspicious state, she wondered if they were really just concerned their cover was blown.

“Please,” Impulse groaned, rubbing the back of his head and cringing up at Cleo, “Uh I don’t want this to come back on us,” he tossed a sad smile over at Bdubs, “Please don’t tell him where you heard that.”

At least someone was listening, had actually clocked on to why she’d said she was going to leave.

“I- wouldn’t-” Cleo tried to hide her smile as she realised, she had leverage now, “I would not tell him where I heard that, but you need to give me more details. Otherwise, I’m gonna go over to him and go ‘Bdubs told me what you said’.”

Impulse gave them a dubious eyebrow, acknowledging her well-crafted extortion.

Bdubs just blurted out, “Traps.” And didn’t elaborate.

Impulse stared at Bdubs in poorly hidden befuddlement for a few moments then turned to Cleo with a tentative expression. “Yeah.” Then he settled himself into a nonchalant posture again, his voice much more convinced of himself when he spoke again, “He didn’t give us the details on the traps but he said he had a few like- he learned some new traps and yeah.”

“So, he’s going to kill me and then die himself?” Cleo frowned, taking a few aggressive steps toward Impulse who had still barely moved from his place at the table.

“Well and Scott had some things to say about you as well.”

Cleo slowly turned back to Bdubs with the most sceptical expression they could muster, any shred of trust slipping away. He was deflecting with bullshit. Badly.

“Uhuh.”

Bdubs must have caught her expressions because he quickly mumbled, “I’m sorry to drop all these bombs, yes, but.”

“Scott hasn’t been out of the house,” Cleo took a step back, staring between the two of them in utter disbelief. She absolutely knew that Scott wouldn’t do that, he was the most frustratingly loyal person they knew and besides that, he wasn’t bothered to go about weaving webs. He had enough going on with Pearl.

“Oh,” Bdubs glanced at Impulse who still remained stoically unbothered, “Oh, well surely he came over here. Yes, surely he did.”

Right. Enough of this.

“Are you telling me porkies Bdubs?” They glared him down, rife with indignance and rage, waiting for him to cave.

He said nothing and the two of them glanced at each other.

“You!” Cleo hollered at Bdubs, tone forcing him to meet her gaze, “Are lying to me!”

Immediately Bdubs’ eyes were even wider than usual, shaking his head vehemently, blinking furiously, “No! No! I was-”

Impulse stood now, giving her a disapproving glare that riled her up further. How dare he think he had the right to be angry at her! She was the one being lied to!

“You- Scott has too been out of his house!”

“Oh! My! Goodness!” Cleo made toward the table, grabbing her pack with a scowl, “How dare you!”

“Are you saying,” Impulse tried to speak but Bdubs shrieked over him, “Scott came out of his house!”

“You couldn’t- you didn’t see him the whole time…”

“You are just, liars!” Cleo stomped to the door, flinging it open and storming out.

The two of them followed her out into the night, Bdubs yelling after her as she made for her donkey. “No, surely not!”

“Oh, my goodness!”

Bdubs came up beside her, taking her arm carefully, “No, no, no!”

“You are!” she shrieked, shaking his arm off and finally pausing in her furious exit.

“Nu-uh!” Bdubs glanced at Impulse for guidance, but he just shrugged from the doorway. Void, man up Bdubs. Stop looking to your husband to do this for you. He got himself into this situation, and she’d be darned if she didn’t make him get himself out.

“I am hurt!” she shouted, demanding his attention, forcing him to turn back to her fury, “And cross, Bdubs.”

His face immediately curled in hurt, shame that made Cleo feel more than slightly vindicated, "I know we're divorced now and you’re with Impulse,” she ranted, gesturing at him, still lingering by the door, “But you should not lie to me! I have never lied to you Bdubs. Ever!”

He held her gaze for the first time in the conversation and she could actually see tears pooling at his eyes. They didn’t feel bad for him. He’d brought this on himself. And they really did want to trust Bdubs, to know that their relationship had meant something. To show that they trusted him, cared about him. That they weren’t about to betray him over nothing, lie to him, try to manipulate him.

“I would never,” Bdubs implored, taking her hand and squeezing it reassuringly, “I’m so sorry.”

I would never. Some bullshit. He literally just had. That wasn’t the conversation she was trying to have with him right now. She pulled her hand out of his and he let it go.

“You should be ashamed!”

Bdubs stared at the grass, nodding exuberantly, tears stinging his cheeks. Cleo didn’t need to tell him how to feel, he was already feeling it. Of course, Cleo had seen right through him. Of course they had. He hadn’t meant to hurt them, not really. But he didn’t think she still cared, still remembered even those days back in the Crastle. It seemed so long ago now, so much strife behind them.

“I’m ashamed,” he murmured, and it wasn’t a lie. He wasn’t going to lie to Cleo anymore.

“You should!”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m leaving now.”

She clambered aboard her donkey and Bdubs continued staring at the grass, his stream of tears mingling with the settled mist. He wished Cleo was like Etho, that they would just give him a coy smile and a shaken head and leave him alone. A flirting, tug and pull of rivalry as they both moved on. But she wasn’t. She was Cleo. She had morals and loyalty and expectations of him. They held him to a standard he could only meet if he put some effort in. They forced him to be better. They made him feel ashamed.

“I would never do it again!” he called after her to which she scoffed and shouted, “You better not!”

-

Impulse watched Bdubs furiously wipe his tears before turning back with a sheepish grin, trying to disguise how much he actually cared. Before he could say anything, before he could squash down and bottle up everything, Impulse made down the hill and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close and holding him tight, refusing to let Bdubs distance himself from everything.

He buried his head in Impulse’s shoulder and immediately began crying again, shaking with sobs, leaving a wet patch on Impulse’s jacket.

Eventually, he lifted his head and leant into Impulse’s neck, taking deep breaths of cool night air, calming himself. Impulse’s closeness certainly helped with that. He was such a rock in the world, refusing to be swayed, affected by anything. Maybe he could be the comfort, the calm Bdubs needed. If Cleo made him better, forced him to try. Well, Impulse made things easy.

“We took it-” Impulse laughed through his sigh, “We went a little too far with that one.”

“I got,” Bdubs sighed, detangling himself from Impulse and pacing in his rant, “Oh I got greedy! I remembered. She- the same thing with Pearl! When Pearl’s not with her soulmate, she’s not with her soulmate, she’s with Scott!”

“Oh no…” Impulse sighed, wrapping an arm around Bdubs’ shoulder and leading him inside. That at least explained the blunder. Spreading rumours about Scott may as well be signing your own death sentence.

“And so that’s why I said oh by the way Scott too and then, sure enough.”

“Right.” Impulse made for the bowls as Bdubs closed the door behind them and pressed his back against it.

“She scolded me like I was her child!” he cried, staring at the wall in a glassy-eyed way that suggested he wasn’t seeing it at all, “I feel- I feel like an infant!”

Impulse nodded, stacking the bowls and dumping them in a chest for now. The two of them really needed to get to bed sometime soon, it was nearing midnight.

“She made me feel a little bad too,” he murmured, but he knew he didn’t understand how Bdubs was feeling right now.

“Man, she’s good,” Bdubs shook his head, finally pushing himself off the wall and helping I out with the fire, “She’s so good. I crumbled.”

“We got caught.”

“Yes. We got very caught.”

Chapter Text

Joel and Etho had been around to almost everyone in the world, asking about sugarcane. They’d yet to be successful. The ranchers were apparently looking, Bdubs and Impulse hadn’t found anything. Scott was concerned as to why they wanted sugarcane so early and Etho had been about to explain but Joel dragged him off. The two of them were worried that someone was hoarding it all, and that if they didn’t kick up a fuss now, when it came to people turning red, those people would have a monopoly on TNT. 

“Does anyone have it?” Grian had asked when they'd gone to speak to him, moving past the two of them with a stack of wood planks that looked far too heavy. Where was Scar when you needed him?

“No, we’ve been around everywhere!” Joel kicked angrily at a rock in the grass and Etho watched in mild amusement. “Unless like Pearl has it…”

“Somebody- somebody’s keeping it a secret.” Etho raised an eyebrow at Grian who put down his wood with a hefty sigh and shrugged, “Well, I don’t blame them. It’s like the only way to get TNT!”

Joel and Etho had narrowed people down based on their reactions and decided it was probably Ren and BigB. Ren had been adamant they didn’t have any but BigB had been really weird, saying “nooooo” while nodding furiously.

Which is why they’d decided to make use of their opportune location, and bring a hoard of pillagers across to interrogate them.

A logical conclusion, certainly not an escalation and a sound partnership, as far as the two of them were concerned.

Since Pearl had decided to leave him alone, Scott had had a remarkably pleasant week. Mostly, he’d been finishing building his house that now had storage in a basement, a fully finished roof and a separate bedroom on a second floor. It looked cute. Scott was much happier with it than he thought he’d be.

Cleo had been in and out the past few days. They seemed determined to get a donkey, which they had. She’d proudly marched in declaring the donkey’s name was Shmoobles and Scott forced a smile. Though as soon as they were gone he sighed.

He was calling it now, that donkey was going to die and whoever did it was going to feel the wrath of Cleo.

He’d gone around to his neighbours, chatting with Martyn and Scar, Grian and Jimmy (which was an entertaining conversation to say the least), even Joel, who seemed remarkably okay with him. Maybe Etho was having a positive effect, who knew. He was building alliances, getting as many people on side by being as pleasant as possible. His usual early game tactic. Cleo had said they’d get Bdubs and Impulse when they left the next morning so Scott was feeling pretty secure. The only enemy he'd made thus far was his own bloody soulmate. And Jimmy. But he wasn't worried about that. Cos it was Jimmy. 

Joel and Etho came round looking for sugarcane and he reiterated that he didn’t have any. It concerned him that they were already looking for it at all. Unless they were big on making cakes in a death game, the only reason he could think anyone would need sugarcane would be to make paper. And unless they were big on writing books in a death game, the only reason he could think anyone would need paper would be to make TNT. It worried him that Joel was already thinking about that.

It was getting increasingly harder for Scott to cling to wanting the ranchers as allies. Now that Tango had built a massive tower out of their fairly inoffensive little ranch house that looked like a giant foot. So, Scott decided to give up on his quest against his own pettiness and give in to trivial squabbles and narrow-minded tunnel vision pranks.

And he really, really wanted to steal Jimmy’s goats

Now he’d gotten the idea in his head, he was impatient and restless with the fleeting courage to actually do something. He needed to do it right now! Unfortunately, Jimmy was at the ranch right now which would make it slightly more difficult. But not impossible. Cos it was Jimmy.

He loitered around the ranch for a bit, digging a tunnel underneath and extending it until he was actually right underneath their feet as the two of them talked and laughed and farmed. Void, they were infuriating.

Why wouldn’t they leave??

Eventually, he accepted that he had to give up. It wasn’t only that they were there, it was that he didn’t know where the goats were, just where the stupid ranchers and their stupid happy giggling were and he didn't want to give himself away by accidently digging up in the middle of their lawn.

So he left, rather begrudgingly and headed back home.

Cleo was actually there when he arrived and he shot her a smile and a wave, glad to see her for the first time in a while. By the time he made it over the bridge however, he didn’t have the chance to share his great goat plan because suddenly Joel’s voice was coming loudly from around the corner, “Warning Cleo! Warning Cleo and Scott!” and Etho’s only slightly more chilled tone, “Stay inside. Stay inside.”

Cleo grabbed Scott’s arm and pulled him toward her house as Joel appeared around the corner with an arrow in his shoulder and a crazed smile on his face, “Don’t worry, we’re going to Ren and BigB’s but…stay inside.”

The two of them muttered in affirmation and crowded into Cleo’s house, staring as Joel and Etho ran past followed by a veritable hoard of pillagers.

“To be fair, I did ask them to warn me first,” Cleo muttered.

-

“I have a job for you,” Scott declared, sitting down on Cleo’s chests that were still the only décor aside from her bed, “Two things-” he corrected himself, remembering he hadn’t debriefed with Cleo yesterday, “Also I put a bow in your chest for you,” he tapped his impromptu seat and grinned at his soulmate who looked pleasantly taken aback.

“Oh thank you!”

He nodded dismissively, glancing out the door to see if the stupid pillagers were still there, which they weren’t. “Um, the second one is, I’m currently trying to do operation; free everything from the ranch and get all the goats out.”

The title was definitely still a work in progress.

Cleo just laughed, nodding enthusiastically with a ‘where do we start’ sort of expression.

“I have a tunnel all the way up to it,” Scott explained, “The issue is that Jimmy is working on it, Tango is there.”

They nodded understandingly, “You need me to-”

“What I need you to do is go round that way,” he gestured off toward the direction of Joel and Etho’s base, which wasn’t really somewhere Cleo wanted to go right now. She wouldn’t put it past them for it to be crawling with pillagers.

“And come over as though you’ve been to Scar’s or Grian’s.”

Which apparently wasn’t the same place and had been thoroughly gossiped about throughout the server all week.

“And then I want you to go and tell them that like Scar needs to show them something. Get them both to leave.”

Cleo understood the task immediately. Scott needed them to gaslight. Well, that was their special skill after all.

“Okay, okay.” She nodded without another question, already making outside for her donkey. Scott flashed her a grateful smile and followed her out, leaning against the railing of the bridge.

“Just so you know,” Cleo mused as they mounted Shmoobles and secured their sword to their belt. Scott appreciated the precaution though thought it largely unnecessary. Cos it was Jimmy. And Tango he supposed, but he couldn’t see him drawing sword on anyone and certainly not doing any damage with it.

“Bdubs and Impulse are spreading lies about people.”

Which caught Scott off guard enough to snap him out of his whirlwind of thoughts. “Saying what?”

It seemed fairly on brand; he wasn’t entirely surprised. After all, he was about to send Cleo off to lie on his behalf. That was how these games worked. And history had proven Impulse wasn’t above a little manipulation. He could see how the combination of the two of them could be great manipulators, for sure.

“They’re- well for example,” Cleo fixed him with a smirk, “You’ve gone over there and you’ve badmouthed me. And Martyn’s got plans to kill me.”

Scott couldn’t help but laugh at the unfathomable ridiculousness of that. If they were going to spread lies, they could at least put some effort into making them believable. He’d been at home all week and Martyn would never hurt Cleo if it meant putting himself at risk. Could try harder. He found himself thinking. Piss poor effort at manipulation.

-

Scott was glad, for the sake of his scheme, that Cleo as ever, seemed on board. The two of them parted ways and Scott got back into his tunnel, settling himself with a torch and a piece of bread to quietly eat while he waited for Cleo’s gaslighting to do its thing.

“How’re you guys doing?” Cleo called over the wall as she rode down the hill toward their gate.

“Pretty good!”

“Ranching away!”

Void, the two of them were insufferable, Scott thought bitterly, wishing he didn’t have to hear them.

“Have you seen what Scar’s done,” Cleo let a little laugh slip into her voice, aiming for incredulous but also perfectly confident.

And nailing it, of course.

“Yes,” Tango frowned over the wall at her and Jimmy came running up from the farm with an equally confused frown, “No, wait what’s he done?”

“Ohhh,” Cleo shook their head, laughing insatiably as they tied schmoobles to the wall, “You need to go and see- I don’t- you need to go and see what Scar’s done.”

“Trouble in spikey paradise?” Tango asked with a raised eyebrow and Cleo wondered if he’d coined that phrase, that had been tossed out a lot this week.

“Oh,” they shook their head, beaming exuberantly. “No, no, no, no, no.” They doubled over in wheezing laughter, waving Tango away as he awkwardly hovered near them, as if wanting to help, “No. You need to go and see it. You need to go and see it. It’s the best thing.”

Scott had to appreciate Cleo's commitment to the bit. He hadn't seen her fully in action for a while. She was so good!

“What?” Tango laughed, squinting dubiously at Cleo as she made through their gate and leant against their wall, shaking their head.

The problem, that she was quite quickly realising, was that she didn’t actually want to tell them anything that they could recognise instantly as a lie. And in order to do that, she had to give barely any information so that when they did go to Scar’s, they wouldn’t immediately know she was lying and run back. But it was a difficult situation to work with because just saying Scar did a thing go look was highly suspicious and they couldn’t go with them because then they’d get there and she’d be expected to tell them what it was that was so incredible and there obviously wasn’t anything.

“No, no, no, no, no. It’s- you need to just- It. Aw. Scar’s a genius.” They ran a hand exasperatedly through their hair, letting their curls fall in their face and tossing back their head in laughter.

Jimmy didn’t know what was going on. Cleo seemed far more confident and comfortable than they usually were, which was putting him on edge. Their gaze hardened into a glare and they pointed a finger at Tango, “Don’t tell him I said that.”

Tango put up his hands in surrender, unable to help the laugh, the slow erosion of his scepticism as Cleo continued to act natural. Their words sounded suspicious but their demeanour really didn’t. He wasn’t sure what Scar would do that would make Cleo say ‘Scar’s a genius’ and not ‘Scar’s a menace’.

“But like, seriously. Seriously. Just. It’s a once in a lifetime experience,” They scoffed out a laugh, more exasperated than amused.

The ranchers exchanged a glance and Cleo took the opportunity to wander up into the ranch, figuring they needed a reason for being here other than to tell them to leave. That would help. She pushed open the door to their ranch house and peered inside then turned around with a curious frown, “What have you got?”

“What have we got?”

Tango just seemed even more sceptical about that.

Oh void, this was getting messy. She really was making this up as she went along after all. Her only plan had been what Scott told her and any other elaboration had escaped her mind until she’d been at the gate to the ranch.

Saved by the bell, all their communicators started buzzing aggressively, Cleo pulled it out with a perplexed frown, hoping reading whatever spam it was would give her time to come up with a new angle. Instead, it gave them their new angle.

Grian: Scar eat

Grian: Scar eat

Grian: Scar eat

They gave a jaunty laugh, interested but not surprised. A perfect balance of oh my god it’s escalating and yeah that checks out given this crazy thing Scar’s doing.

“You might wanna go see Scar before he dies.”

“Before he dies?” Tango was properly laughing now, suspicion eased from his brow.

“Right, where is he?” Jimmy made out the gate and Tango sighed, shooting Cleo a tired look and making after his soulmate blundering in entirely the wrong direction.

“Just over the mountain,” they offered.

“Which mountain is it?”

Tango put a hand on his shoulder and steered him in the right direction, clearly having already been there. He threw a wave to Cleo that she returned, trying not to let her smugness show on her face as it settled in her chest. Making away from the ranch with a sigh until she was absolutely sure they were too far away to see her. At which point they quietly slipped back in, shutting the creaky gate behind them cautiously as if anyone other than Scott in his tunnels might hear. How was the ranch gate creaky already? They’d just built it.

And just as they made toward the goats, a voice behind them froze them in their tracks.

“Well, well, well.”

It was really a bit too late in the afternoon to be marauding by the time Jimmy and Tango made it to Scar’s place. Grian wasn’t around and Scar was humming to himself, halfway up a mangrove tree inside his wall, every swing of his axe threatening to topple him out.

“Oh Scar!” Tango called, peering at the two sets of menacing walls defining Grian and Scar’s areas.

“Ah Tango!”

Before either of the ranchers could even process what was happening, Scar was gone from the tree and in front of the two of them, leaning forward on his cane with an enticing smile. “Hello there!”

“We were told to come to see what’s going on,” Tango ventured but Scar just leant back, watching as the two of them glanced about, frowning. Wondering what spectacular thing they were supposed to be seeing, “Cos it’s amazing…”

Scar grinned, bouncing a little as he turned away into the wall, “Oh yeah, come on in everybody, come on in.”

“What’s going on in here?” Jimmy frowned, eyes sweeping over the mulchy ground, shoots of bamboo and little saplings of trees and bushes.

“Yeah, uh slowly,” Scar began, his voice dropping into it’s sales pitch intonation, “We are making a jellie panda reserve here. Where you can come, pet the pandas. You know, maybe even purchase some bamboo that’ll allow you to uh feed them.” He nodded cheerfully, glancing between the two of them, “Very relaxing. Good couples retreat.”

Jimmy glanced at Tango who turned away with a nervous laugh, “I like it. Very nice.”

“Where- where are the pandas?” Jimmy frowned and Tango suddenly realised how valid a question that was. The space was nice and all but without any pandas it was just a slightly landscaped paddock inside a wall.

“They are currently in a hole still,” Scar mumbled, the bitterness in his voice barely disguised by the layer of charm and sing-songing he coated it with.

“Oh!”

“Ohhhh. Okay.”

“They’re not allowed in the- in the keep.” He gestured half-assedly over at Grian’s spiked wall, “And I had to- I had to move them here.”

“Can we see?” Jimmy asked with a little smile that made Tango grin. The two of them had been scheming on the way there about leaving with Scar’s horse. Clearly, the horse wasn’t in the reserve, so they needed to see more of the area. And what better way to do that than ask to see the pandas? For all that Jimmy was looked down on by the others, he really was quite smart and incredibly capable of cooking up a scheme.

Scar nodded cheerfully and lead them off around the edge of Grian’s wall, “Here! Come this way, come this way.”

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Cleo turned around to Martyn, wispy curls falling in his face, crowding at his smirk. They tried not to look caught and failed miserably, snorting a laugh, “Oh hi.”

“What’re you doing in the ranch,” Martyn asked casually as he dismounted his donkey and made to tie it up near Shmoobles

“Uh, nothing.” Cleo cleared their throat, tucking their hair behind their ear and wishing Martyn would do the same. Those strands just sitting right in his line of sight were really annoying her.

“That’s what they all say,” Martyn scoffed, smirk momentarily hardening to a glare before he returned his expression to its deadpan blankness and shrugged, “I come in here all the time and I never have a good excuse either.”

Cleo couldn’t help but laugh at that, making a little closer to the wall then pausing, folding their arms.

“I’ve been told something by…uh by certain people who are… telling lies. About you.”

“What?” Martyn looked up from where he was struggling to feed his donkey without Shmoobles stealing his carrots. “Wait, lies about me?”

“I’m pretty sure they’re- they’re telling lies.” Cleo shrugged but now she was questioning, now the doubt was creeping back in and they were thinking what if it was real? It was easy to think Martyn made sense when he wasn’t around. When it was just the idea of him. But here, with him in front of them, with that stupid smirk and eyes so full of chaos and madness, she wasn’t sure anymore.

“What- what, what have I supposedly done?”

He frowned up at her and she moved down the hill a little bit more so she could see his eyes when she spoke. Then stopped, folding her arms again, “You’re plotting to kill me.”

He said nothing, letting his mouth fall open a little and she jumped in again before he could say a word.

“Which doesn’t sound like you because you’re kind of a survivor.”

Martyn didn’t know how to feel about that sentence at all. He could be branded as that, sure. It implied a level of distrust he wasn’t sure he wanted from Cleo but it wasn’t an unfair evaluation of his character and he really shouldn’t be surprised that Cleo had such an accurate reading on him already.

“Uhh. Yeah.”

He settled for non-committal. Not confirming her suspicions but not trying to argue a case for which he had no evidence either. Besides, he had more immediate concerns.

“Who said that?”

“Uh, would you like to take a guess?”

As if he weren’t already doing that in his mind, a dozen different scenarios. Could it be Scott? Surely not, that didn’t seem like something he’d do. He’d made a couple jokes down in the deep dark, maybe one of them? But they were all jokes. Everyone knew he wasn’t actually going to die to the Warden. Because he was, well after all, a survivor.

“I’m gonna guess Pearl.”

She seemed the most likely at this point to have a vendetta against him. Maybe she wanted to split up him and Cleo so she could have a fellow mad widow to keep her company.

“No,” Cleo said blatantly. They never did sugarcoat anything did they? “No, no, no. Pearl’s doing her…crazy…lady…thing.”

“In which case it’s probably Jimmy because he’s always got it out for me.”

Cleo shook her head again, smirking at him. She was enjoying this. “No…have you seen Bdubs and Impulse recently?”

“Yes…”

Bdubs and Impulse?? He didn’t have beef with them! They were on good terms; they had the whole cow deal thing going on. Or was that what this was about?

“Yeah.”

“It’s them?! They- wait they said this?”

Cleo nodded frantically, grinning at him. “Yeah! Yeah. They also told me Scott was uh was bad mouthing me as well. Scott’s been in his house the whole time! That’s how I knew they were lying! They’re telling lies.”

Martyn shook his head, leaning forward on the gate to grin, “They’re going the right way for a whooping.”

Cleo took a step back, watching Martyn cautiously like he might implode at any moment, “Yeah,”

He took his eyes off her at last, glancing into the distance and ranting bitterly, “I- they’re just upset okay because I come and get a few steaks every so often because I sold them something that they can’t even use.”

Cleo watched Martyn’s line of sight into the distance, to where a whole group of people were hanging out around BigB and Ren’s Box.

“I think Bdubs and Impulse have decided they’re taking their old married couple schtick to erm spreading gossip,” they explained, quite sure the two of them weren’t just trying to separate one of the least stable alliances right now. She reckoned they were trying to split up everyone.

“Right,” Martyn mumbled, his gaze snapping back to them with a smirk, “Anyway, I have art to complete.” He gestured at the only thing more hideous than Ren and BigB’s box, his little floating heart awfulness.

“You have art,” Cleo scoffed a laugh, shaking their head at his utter ridiculousness. “I mean- I- Jimmy is suggesting the er homeowners association is coming to er-”

“Yeah I- I heard about the HOA.” Martyn snapped, though they could feel that his anger wasn’t directed at them tonight, “Unfortunately, until they can actually put something in real writing on actual ink and quill, pen and paper. Uh I can’t actually recognise signs. Um. Just doesn’t work.”

Cleo stared at him, letting him rant himself out and when he finally shut up they took the flower tucked behind their ear, the one they’d picked from the fields around their house that morning and held it out to Martyn over the wall, genuinely smiling at him for the first time…perhaps ever.

“No, that’s fair.” They muttered as he took the flower with a confused frown. It’s little blue petals were already wilting but he held it like it was the most precious fragile thing in the world, staring like he didn’t know what to do with it.

They looked over his shoulder because they couldn’t look him in the eye and they couldn’t bear the thought of looking at the ground like an abashed fool. They spotted the plume of blue hair amongst the grass that suggested it was very much time to leave and cleared their throat, making for the gate and swiftly untying Shmoobles.

“Okay,” they pulled themselves up onto the donkeys back and gave Martyn a business-like nod, “I’m gonna...”

He frowned at her in utter confusion and she glanced between him, standing there leaning against the wall and Scott, already disappearing into the trees.

“You’re gonna walk away, I see.” His voice honestly sounded forlorn but he was still smirking that stupid self-confident smirk.

“I’ve just seen stuff,” Cleo mumbled, glancing after Scott and frantically up at the hill where Tango and Jimmy would come back from Grian and Scar’s. “That means I have to leave. Before they come back.”

“Oh.”

“So, um…”

Martyn stared up at the ranch and then back down at Cleo with a frown so perplexed it looked like it might split his face in two. Cleo just laughed, shaking her head and turning her donkey away, calling, “I’ll see you later Martyn,” over her shoulder.

“What-wha…”

It wasn’t like Martyn to be speechless. He liked to talk and he always had something to say. But something about Cleo’s simultaneously confident and incredibly scared departure had him confused and concerned, “Am I gonna get in trouble for something!” he shouted after her, pushing himself off the wall and hurriedly untying his donkey.

Cleo turned back, shaking her head vehemently, “No. I’m gonna definitely get in trouble because I made them leave.”

“I’ll see you later Martyn!”

“Oh void.”

Then she gave him another one of those stupid sweet smiles and Martyn felt a whole concoction of feelings he couldn’t place and didn’t understand.

“You’re good,” she called, “You’re good.”

He cleared his throat as she disappeared into the night and turned away, biting his cheek. He glanced down at the flower, still clasped in his hand. How had Cleo managed to get all the power in this situation? What was happening? Their relationship, whatever it was, was very much a game, a competition. And somehow, they were winning. Half of him wanted to crush the stupid flower. Instead, he took a deep breath and buried the thought with all the angry things making a storm in his brain. And promised himself he’d win.

“Well look at them!” Scar immediately cooed, “Aren’t they the cutest things ever!”

There was an awkward silence between the three of them, standing practically shoulder to shoulder around the perimeter of the panda pit, squinting against the harsh low light of the setting sun.

“I mean,” Tango exchanged a look with Jimmy who looked practically pained as he stared down at the pandas. There must have been four or five of them in the tiny dug out hole. “I would think they want a little bit bigger area. They look a little bit squished.”

“Well- I…” Scar sighed, shaking his head as his demeanour turned forlorn, “Wasn’t my choice Tango, it was not my choice.” He winced, his cane digging into the dirt and threatening to cause a landslide into the panda pit. “Ow!” he yelled at the sky, like his soulmate was in the heavens and might hear his frustration.

“You said this was a panda reserve,” Jimmy muttered, his voice still pained with concern as he gestured adamantly to the pit, “This doesn’t look good.”

“Sanctuary,” Tango tutted, glancing up at Scar who was staring with a concerningly blank expression at the two of them.

“It’s not good,” he said, turning sharply back toward the ‘reserve’ and beckoning them to follow, “Because this is not- this is their new home, come on guys!!” Emotion flooded back into his voice; chirpy dismissive optimism, “You gotta look forward to the future not the past.”

“Well, I’m not liking the present, you know?” Jimmy insisted, taking Tango’s hand as the two of them followed Scar back into his wall. He glanced at them, eyes resting on their hands and then turned away with a cough, shaking his head, “Well, the future here is bright.”

Which didn’t address anyone’s concerns.

Ren was finishing up a deal with Bdubs about horses and BigB was having nothing to do with it. Not for any particular reason, just because he’d spent enough time this week already standing at Ren’s shoulder watching him have conversations with people.

He’d found he quite liked being alone with Ren. When all his attention was directed solely at him and he felt like he might die under that endearing a gaze. When he was gentle and sweet and dramatic and all the things that made Ren, Ren.

But he’d also found he preferred to be the audience of Ren’s performance, not a part of it. He couldn’t quite find himself when Ren was chatting and making deals and joking about with people. He found he went quiet and he hated it. He was generally a quiet person, more quiet than Ren anyway but he wasn’t usually timid. When he and Ren were around other people, he felt small and insignificant and he despised it.

So he let Ren do his thing and he worked quietly on Box, humming to himself as he finished a little balcony they hoped to shoot people from later down the line. He was just minding his own business, listening to Ren and Bdubs practically shout their offers at one another.  When he glanced up to get proportions to the roof and almost toppled right over the edge, heart racing, blood rushing in his ears.

“Oh my goodness,” he gasped, scrambling to regain his composure as a little cackle floated down to him.

Pearl’s dark red hood would have been enough to terrify him without her straggle of hair falling in her face and vacant eyes staring unblinkingly at his, a little smirk completing the whole disturbing picture.

He took a few tentative steps toward the ladder up to the roof and her head disappeared. He tried to call to Ren but he was distracted by Bdubs. He took a deep steadying breath and climbed up, hoping to at least appear to not be terrified of her. It seemed impolite given they were apparently allies, and neither of them were red, despite pearl’s best efforts to appear that way.

“What’re you doing?” he hissed at Pearl when he got to the top.

She was standing at the edge of the roof, all folded in on herself in her cloak, eyes darting furtively around. Then her gaze fixed on him and she stared at him blankly, blinking a few times and leaned in, whispering, “I don’t know.”

He didn’t know what to do with that so he just nodded thoughtfully like it made any sense. “Where’s your dog?” he asked, catching sight of the little fluffball in the corner of his eye just as he said it, “Is that your dog?”

Pearl nodded, beaming at it with love and admiration shining behind her empty soulless eyes. BigB didn’t like it. Something was off. The dog was sitting in the upper level of Box that still didn’t have a roof over it. The two of them stood rather precariously on the wall up to what would be the roof once they had the stone and the effort.

“Can I pet it?” he mumbled, still not quite sure why they were speaking in hushed tones. Pearl nodded again, still not taking her eyes off the dog. BigB made down the ladder into the top level and headed toward the dog with a smile, reaching out to scratch behind its ears when it turned around and bit his hand, making him yelp with pain and scramble away and Pearl whisper yell, “BigB! BigB!” and hurry down to calm it.

“How did you get up here?” BigB asked in bewilderment as he wrapped the bite in his shirt. He gave up on the pretence of quiet, Ren definitely knew something was going on now, if that was why they were being quiet in the first place. Which he honestly wasn’t sure if it was.

“I just climbed the ladders,” Pearl shrugged, still gently stroking her dog that was still glaring daggers at BigB, “Your door is wide open.”

“Uhh he- hello?” Ren’s voice came drifting up from the lower floors as the sun set. He sounded a little exasperated.

Pearl cackled and BigB watched her with a morbid kind of curiosity. He didn’t really know her that well and as first-ish interactions went, he was immediately wary of her. “Hi Ren!” she called, overly cheery.

“What’s going on in here?” Ren snapped like they were two troublesome children who’d knocked over a vase in their fight.

“Nothing!” Pearl called, playing into the part perfectly.

“Pearl just scared me so bad.”

She glanced up at him with a mischievous smile and cackled again. Like a witch and a creepy clown had just been told a really funny joke. Apparently, Ren was on the same page as BigB because when his voice came next it was cautious, but firm in its conviction.

“Pearl, you know…I always thought you were like a really kind and sweet person but I’m- I’m literally terrified of you after this week.”

“I’m just visiting though!” Pearl cried, laughter immediately turning to tears “You don’t want a visit?”

“Well I mean-”

“Can I just say hi? I’m a lonely person, alright. I just want some company.”

BigB could hear Ren’s sigh even from the level below, “Okay, but, you’re not welcome here if you’re just gonna torture people around us though.”

“I’m not torturing anybody, I’m just saying hi!”

BigB gave her a sceptical expression and she frowned, folding her arms and turning away to the ladder, biting her cheek against the tears building in her throat. She’d really thought she had friends. Well that was her mistake wasn’t it. Everyone hated her. She’d somehow become a villain and it was making her want to be alone. If everyone was going to treat her like a curse and a burden, maybe she was better off locked up away in her tower. Let everyone else get on with their lives because apparently, she wasn’t welcome. Not here, not anywhere. She knew she was in her head but the weight of it felt crushing. She’d been alone for far too long these past weeks and now, now even her supposed allies didn’t want her around so what else was she supposed to do? The idea of being alone for even longer, void she couldn’t stand it. “I’m leaving,” she sniffed, making no effort to hide her tears anymore. They were being jerks and she wanted them to know it. “I’m not- apparently I’m not wanted here, okay. I’m goin then. Bye.”

Ren dashed to stop her in her tracks, putting a reassuring hand on her arm and vehemently shaking his head, “No you can stay!”

“No,” she shook it off, not sure why. She wanted friends, and- she had them? Did she? Ren was acting like he liked her now but just then… void she didn’t know. She was so overwhelmed, so emotional. Everything was too much right now. She didn’t have the energy to decipher his flip-flopping. “I’m going.”

“You can stay!” BigB chimed in, in agreement as Ren called after her, “Don’t go Pearl!”

And she might have taken it at that point, gone back inside. But then she saw a horse and…well. Wouldn’t that be funny? Would it? She found she didn’t much care and besides, she already had one foot in the stirrups and her eyes out the door. She pulled herself up onto its back, the saddle slightly uncomfortable and the reigns all tangled up in it. She didn’t care, she only had to get it out the door.

“I’m just gonna go,” she mumbled, like she was going and not stealing their horse for a bit, “You know, it’s fine.”

Then she gave up on her weepy voice and called, “Thanks for the horse!”

It took Ren a moment to process what she’d said and run to the ladder, “No! No thanks for the horse!” he scrambled down the ladder to see she hadn’t been joking, BigB’s horse was nowhere to be seen. “There’s been some horse thievery!” he yelled out to BigB who was out the opposite side, back to building again.

“She took a horse!” Ren cried as he flung himself through the doorframe and almost toppled over the edge of their staircase railing in his indignation, “BigB, she’s taken the horse!”

“Did she take squirrel?” his soulmate’s distressed voice urged him forward as he clattered down the stairs toward Pearl who was sitting aboard Squirrel like she had nowhere better to be, staring him down with an unsettling smirk.

“She took squirrel!”

Then Ren’s gaze shifted only slightly and he cursed as something that definitely wasn’t his pulse rushed in his ears, all frantic and angry. The purple glow seared into his eyelids as he squeezed them shut but it was no good. He stumbled back toward Box as creaking and snarling assaulted his ears, sure no-one else could hear it. “And there’s an enderman on me now!” he shrieked, stumbling into a wall, making a frantic and flailing effort to block himself into a corner as magic warped his mind and froze his limbs. “Okay, BigB we’re in trouble,” he called, wildly understating the situation. “We’re in trouble!”

BigB grabbed at the ladder, pulling himself up, trying to get inside, he could hear Ren’s panicked cries, feel the shooting, stabbing pain of the enderman’s attack.

“We’re in trouble, we’re in trouble,” Ren chanted it like a mantra as he ducked out of his makeshift fort that was doing nothing to stop the onslaught of magic and toward the cow pen. He didn’t know where he was going, what he was doing, what the plan was here, “We’re in big trouble!”

An overwhelming pain racked their bodies and Ren collapsed to the floor. BigB gasped as his finger slipped from the rung above him and he crashed into the stone below. “REN!” he screamed and pain seared through his head, the hot ooze of blood trickling down his neck.

They both already knew there was no coming back from this.

Scar was saying something about pandas, a long-winded response to some question everyone had forgotten they asked, and Tango was no longer listening. He’d heard the fated double ping in low tones from his communicator that could only mean one thing.

Renthedog was slain by Enderman

Bigbst4tz2 fell off a ladder

“OH!”

Jimmy rushed up to him, hands on his shoulders as he peered at the little words, “Oh!”

“Wait what?” Tango frowned; the death message unusual to how the soulmate ones usually worked from his limited experience of it. “He died while on a ladder?”

“Oh no,” Jimmy gasped and Tango didn’t see why he was upset. More yellows, this was good for them!

“That’s not how you ladder BigB,” Scar muttered, shaking his head with a disappointed sigh that wasn’t disappointed at all.

“Ren and BigB,” Tango mused, tucking the communicator back into his pocket and leaning against the reserve wall.

“They’re both on yellow!” Jimmy cheered and punched the air enthusiastically which made Tango smile a little.

“I’m not gonna lie,” he nodded thoughtfully, “I’m happy to see some death.”

“I was just thinking we’ve not had any disasters today,” came Grian’s voice from inside his wall, making both ranchers jump. Neither had realised he was home. Scar just nodded, chewing on his cheek and staring down at a little sapling, blowing in the evening breeze.

Jimmy made outside of Scar’s wall and Tango followed as he mused about the semantics of ladders. Then he saw where Jimmy was headed, saw the pointed look he gave him and turned back to distract Scar. Only to run headlong into him. He yelped and took a few steps back but Scar grabbed his arm and pulled him closer whispering, “Take it, take it.”

It took him a few moments to register what he meant, panicking that he was talking about the horse. But that didn’t match the conspiratorial tone. The horn, right.

“I’ll try,” he hissed, knowing full well that he wouldn’t, “I’ll try.” He pulled away from Scar and made after Jimmy who had made around the back now. He was counting on Tango distracting Scar for maybe a minute more, and he’d be far enough away. Tango was sure Jimmy had wanted him to follow once Scar was distracted and he had gone back to his panda reserve now so…

Grian finished his hammering and frowned, confused that the silence that should have followed was interrupted by clip clopping hooves against the dirt.

“Scar, I think they’re stealing your horse,” he called nonchalantly over his shoulder, sure it was the same shenanigans Jimmy had been trying to pull earlier.

“Tango?” Scar frowned dashing out of his wall and Tango quickly made back to him, forcing a smile and nodding, “yeah, I’m right here. Right here.”

“They’re busy stealing your horse Scar!” Grian called again, more forcefully his time because he really needed Scar to get the horse now and not try to kill people and make more enemies over it. Void, he was five minutes away from killing the damn horse himself. Heck, it wouldn’t be the first time would it?

“No!” Scar shouted, grabbing Tango’s shoulder and pulling him back like he might reveal the horse strapped to his chest, “You put the horse back!”

“What?” Tango feigned ignorance, throwing his hands up in surrender as he staggered to keep balance, “I don’t have your horse!”

Around the other side of the spiky cake, Jimmy rode the horse as quickly and quietly away as he could, eyes fixed on the horizon, heart thudding frantically in his ears, “Take it to the ranch, take it to the ranch, take it to the ranch,” he muttered to himself, over and over, like he was manifesting it into the universe, “Take it to the ranch.”

“Oh my…” Scar let Tango go with a scoff, moving away to the panda pit and tutting, “Tango, this is very disappointing.”

Grian knew enough about his soulmate to know he should be far more concerned that he wasn’t yelling. His quiet disappointment always proved more dangerous than his messy, thoughtless rage.

“I had nothing to do with this,” Tango scoffed.

Scar turned around with an unsettlingly sinister smile, “Oh Tango, you had it all to do with it.”

The world crashed into BigB in a blur of leaves and darkened sky. The moonlight burnt his eyes and he sat to bury his head in his sleeve. There was nothing to suggest he’d died only moments ago other than a faint headache and the glow of his soulbound in front of him, its yellow hue immediately sparking anxiety.

He sighed and shrugged, not about to waste energy on being upset, angry. Sometimes you died. It happened. There was nothing he could do to change it now and trying would only tire him. Instead, he stood and glanced about for Ren. He wasn’t a hard man to find.

“BigB, I’m so sorry dude!” he cried, clambering down from a nearby tree, making toward his soulmate with apologies a plenty in his eyes, wrapping his arms around BigB’s waist and immediately burying his head in his shoulder.

BigB just laughed, shaking his head as he hugged Ren back, “Dude! I fell off the ladder as you were getting attacked!”

“Really?” Ren chuckled, pulling back for a moment to beam at his soulmate, eyes still sad and face forlorn.

“Yeah,” BigB said through a laugh, shrugging indifferently, “I think we died at the same time.”

Neither could help from laughing, though the yellow glow of their soul bind looped between them put a rather abrupt dampener on the moment as both their gazes inevitably fell to it.

“I blame-”

“That was all Pearl, dude!” Ren snapped, untangling himself from BigB, but staying close enough that the joining point of their soul bind hadn’t lost transparency yet.

“I was gonna say, I blame Pearl,” BigB shook his head and Ren nodded exuberantly, biting his cheek, one leg bouncing restlessly. “I told you! I told you she’s not welcome at Box dude!” BigB nodded though he was quite sure Ren had said nothing but the complete opposite all week.

“I told you she came with the demons!”

Which he supposed Ren had said in between all the assurances she could stay. BigB couldn’t help thinking that was what was confusing about Ren, he was never straight forward but always straight up. He didn’t say any of that, of course. Instead,  he jumped on board with his conjecture.

“That’s true. If she never showed up, that would have never happened.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t believe it, because he did! He’d known something was off about Pearl from the moment he’d seen her in the grove. That distant look in her eye, like she was seeing beyond the world and not what was in front of her. Like if he stared at her too long, he’d stare right into the void.

And then Ren had died to an Enderman, surely that wasn’t coincidence.

It was just that Ren hadn’t been telling him that. He’d been giving her chances, trying to get her on side, telling her she was welcome. Oh well, BigB was glad they were on the same page now.

“She’s a demon,” Ren asserted as Box appeared, a silhouette in the distance, “ She’s a- a demoness is what she is. Clearly she’s got evil in her veins.”

“She does.”

Pearl sat on the horse, staring at the doorway in shock until a zombie began clawing at the horses leg and it took off, ducking into box and trotting into the corner with no regard for Pearl who clambered off, legs wobbly and heart pounding in her ear.

It was her fault. Ren and BigB had died and it was her fault.

Oh no.

She didn’t mean for anything to happen! Void, this was bad. This really wasn’t good. Her only allies and she’d just gone and got them killed! Sort of… well, she hadn’t caused it per say but well, if she hadn’t stolen the horse, Ren wouldn’t have been outside, and he wouldn’t have looked at the enderman and…

She was taken out of her spiralling thoughts by the sound of Cleo and Scott chatting as they came up the hill.

She stumbled over not-quite-words for a few seconds, not sure if she should say anything. If she should acknowledge her presence or just run off into the wilderness. She stumbled around the side of the house where the two of them made over the hill. She had just enough wits about her to be annoyed at how put together they looked, clean clothes and combed hair, matching flowers tucked behind their ears. She felt a right bedraggled mess in comparison, still in the same cloak she’d been stumbling about in all week, her hair building its own ecosystem, the edges scratching at her grimy face and her shorts now covered in horse hair. And just standing there, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

“Hi- hi,” she blurted, because they’d seen her now, so she’d missed her window for pretending she wasn’t there.

“Hello,” Scott mumbled warily, glancing her up and down, tight lipped with silent disappointment.

“That wasn’t me!” she insisted, flinging her hands up in surrender and stumbling backwards until she hit the wall of Box, her breathing coming in shaking bursts, “I didn’t- I didn’t do it!”

“You sure?” Scott’s expression took sceptical all the way to judgemental.

“I didn’t do it!” she shrieked, knowing she wasn’t helping her case with her frantic defence. She was just half trying to convince herself. “I didn’t do it!”

“What did you do Pearl?” Scott insisted, hands on his hips. Cleo had disappeared up the hill now.

“I just stole their horse and then he stared at an enderman and that was his fault,” she blurted, not convinced of the words until they fell out of her mouth. Yes. She didn’t make Ren look at the enderman right? He did that of his own accord. She was just involved, not liable.

Scott just rolled his eyes, heading up the hill to meet Cleo. They began murmuring amongst themselves as they grabbed things off the floor, armour and tools scattered around where BigB’s body had faded away.

“Don’t steal their items!” Pearl cried, watching in dismay as the two of them sifted through the pile.

“What do you mean?” Scott smirked up at Pearl, sarcasm lining his smile as much as his voice.

“It’s not their items,” Cleo scoffed, “they’re obviously on the floor.”

Pearl just tutted, turning away and muttering, “That’s terrible.” Scott and Cleo petulantly ignored her, trying to find a chest plate they were sure had been there a moment ago. Had Pearl taken it? She’d turned back to give Scott a pointed glare.

“I’m disappointed in my soulbound!”

Oh she didn’t get to play that now. No. Not when she’d been trying to get them killed all day. He folded his arms and shrugged, indifference settling over his rising anger like the frost still trapped in his fingertips, refusing to stop tingling. He was certain now it wasn't frostbite but something far more sinister.

“I’m sorry but this is very on brand for both of us, I don’t know what you expected.”

Which made Cleo double over cackling with laughter and Pearl just scowl.

“This is extremely on brand for us two.”

Scott didn’t understand her anger. She’d been with them last season! She kept claiming all that bullshit about how their alliances and the trust that came with them should still stand. Well, shouldn’t their friendships in that case? Shouldn’t she distinctly remember their tendency to swoop in and benefit off others misfortune, their careless cruelty behind others back and smiles and sarcasm to their face.

Pearl stood for a few moments, fists clenched, jaw set.

“You call me the evil one,” she snapped.

Then she was gone, disappearing around the wall of Box, muttering something more about saving Ren and BigB’s things.

Cleo and Scott decided not to bother with the stuff inside. What with Pearl guarding it like a dragon on its gold and Ren and BigB due to return any minute now, the two of them ran off, muttering about how to share their load and laughing sadistically.

“Are we the mean girls?” Cleo mused.

“Yes.”

Jimmy couldn’t contain his grin, bouncing up and down, too full of energy to do anything. He couldn’t focus; he definitely couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t stop grinning.

It was two minutes of torture before Tango showed up, just as full of energy and grinning ear to ear. He didn’t see Jimmy at first, swaggering down the hill and pulling himself effortlessly over the wall in a way Jimmy could only envy in all his clumsiness.

“Where are you my friend?” he called as his rancher rushed to him, throwing his entire weight at him so that they both staggered back a bit, entangled in one another’s excitement. “Hey,” Jimmy muttered and Tango burst out laughing, lifting his soulmate up and spinning him around. It made him squeal and Tango only laugh more through his words as he gushed, “You expert rancher!”

“He-hey,” Jimmy laughed as Tango set him down on his feet again, leaning in for a kiss as soon as he was sure he wouldn’t fall over.

“I’ve never been more proud of anyone in my life!” Tango laughed through his grin, a sound that filled Jimmy’s ears and made him feel warmer than the cold air whipping at his neck should have allowed.

“Thank you so much,” he gushed as he blushed like a lovesick schoolboy. He took Tango’s hand and lead him toward the goat pen, gesturing theatrically at the trusty steed, right where it belonged, “There he is!”

“Ohh, he looks so good there!”

Jimmy was jumping up and down and Tango was far too distracted to see anything but the shimmering coat of the horse for a solid moment. Then he frowned, eyes sweeping the pen.

“Hey, where’s all our goats?”

“Wha-” Jimmy froze, glancing beside him at Tango with a most worried wide-eyed expression he’d ever seen. “I thought you moved them.”

Tango made a series of incomprehensible noises that endeared Jimmy enough to put a smile back on his face, even if only momentarily before his soulmate turned back to him and cried, “No!”

And Jimmy realised what this meant.

“Wait what?”

Someone had stolen their goats.

“Pearl!” Ren called as they made back toward Box and BigB frowned, watching Scott and Cleo run down toward Scott’s house. He made up to where his stuff was littered across the ground, glancing after them with a frown. What were they doing picking around?

“Guys I got you,” Pearl called, stuffing the last of their things into a chest, smiling up at Ren as he lingered in the doorway, eyeing her suspiciously.

“Pearl,” he muttered, shaking his head at her, “You are an evil demoness.”

Pearl said nothing, hurt creasing her features as she took a few steps back. It unsurprisingly caught her off guard. Last time she saw Ren and BigB they were saying she was welcome. Sure, she’d stolen their horse but she’d returned it, that was a joke. It wasn’t like she’d caused their death. It was Ren’s own bloody fault he’d looked at an Enderman. And she’d been trying to help, she was their ally! Where did evil demoness suddenly come from?

“I just saved your stuff!” she protested at last, “I didn’t mean for you to die!”

Ren took a step toward her, anger overcoming the wariness in his posture, “You came in here with evil in your heart and so, we were slain.”

“No I didn’t!” Pearl cried, shaking her head as tears pricked at her eyes, again. Because someone was leaving, again. Saying it was somehow her fault, again. When all she’d tried to do was help! Again! “I didn’t! I just saved your stuff!”

Ren said nothing, moving to the chest and letting Pearl stew in her frustration in the doorway.

“I just saved all your items!” she yelled but he still said nothing, shaking his head and quietly taking out his things, most importantly, his sword. If this ended in a fight, he wanted to be able to win it. “I saved them! From Scott and Cleo!”

He said nothing.

She took a step back and scoffed an incredulous laugh, mumbling, “Who I’m pretty sure also took some stuff by the way. Just saying.”

“They definitely took some stuff!” BigB yelled from outside, stomping into Box with his arms hardly full carrying all the stuff they’d left behind.

“Did they?” Ren addressed him and rage burnt through Pearl’s veins. What- was he just ignoring her? He didn’t think he could do that forever? Because he couldn’t…he had to acknowledge that what he was doing was unfair. She hadn’t done anything! He was just being- she’d make him acknowledge it if he were just gonna stare at BigB like she weren’t there at all.

“All my enchanted armour is gone!” BigB dropped the stuff beside the chest full of Ren’s stuff and the two of them tutted at the unfortunately pathetic pile. “Oh…my goodness.”

“Okay, well, you just came in and started insulting me,” Pearl snapped, demanding their attention again. They thankfully met her demands this time, acknowledging her presence, still lingering by the doorway, unsure if she were welcome, if they were joking, if she should be offended. “I’m not sure if I want to save you right now.”

The last thing we need is your saving, Ren thought angrily, glancing at BigB before turning back to Pearl with a sigh. He honestly believed she was trying to be kind, but that didn’t mean he had to put up with the repercussions of her failure.

“Pearl,” he began in the gentlest tone he could manage despite the content of his words, “You came here, and you caused death.”

She opened her mouth to speak, to protest, to say things Ren didn’t want to hear because he needed to not feel sorry for her right now. He took a step forward, cutting her off abruptly, “Whether you tried to or not!” He shook his head at her, something coiling inside him at the sight of the void in her eyes, “There is something wicked within you.”

“I just wanted to have some fun,” Pearl griped, already turning for the door, her coat whipping across Ren’s legs as she stumbled away. “I’ll go then.”

“You’re banished from Box,” Ren called after her, just to set expectations clear. He was terrified of her. He didn’t want her back here. “Get outta here.”

But despite her gripes, she shot one last desperate look at BigB who turned away, because he couldn’t bear to look in those soulless eyes somehow so full of hurt. “You actually are banished from Box. I’m so sorry Pearl.”

It hurt more than Pearl cared to admit really. She thought she had allies in Ren and BigB, friends even. Cleo had said find another group to go with and for a second, she thought she had. But no. Somehow she was the problem, the villain, the evil demoness with something wicked in her heart.

Well, if that was what everyone expected of her. Where had trying to be kind gotten her? Trying to make friends? She’d just made more enemies, caused more death and destruction and suffering. She’d been trying since the start to be nothing but kind to people. No more! No. If that’s what they thought of her then she’d give them a reason to think that way.

She left without another word and she didn’t come back, wandering off into the night, thoughts screeching in her head.

This is my season. This is me.

“Griannnn,” Scar whined like a toddler, marching into the spikey fort and wrapping an arm around Grian’s shoulder that he didn’t shake off for once, “Can we go burn their house down.”

Grian sighed by a smile played at his lips as he glanced up at Scar, buzzing with manic murderous energy, that crooked grin that brought nothing but happy memories. “Uhh,” he tutted and turned back to the roof he was working on, “Lemme finish my build first.”

Chapter Text

“Someone butchered our goats!” Tango yelled while Jimmy screamed, “WHAT?”

Tango began to pace and Jimmy was practically shaking with angry energy, “Ohhhh,” Tango murmured threateningly, finally understanding.

“Are you being serious?” Jimmy cried, gaze flicking wildly between the empty goat pen and Tango, and back again.

“No, I think!” His soulmate took his arm, staring very seriously into his eyes, “Listen, I think we’ve just been had.”

Jimmy frowned, taking a step back and vehemently shaking his head, “Why? Who? Why and when?”

No, they couldn’t have been had. They were having someone else. They were doing the having! But although Tango was yelling and talking far too loud, Jimmy was beginning to get it too.

“Cleo came over here! And was like ‘noo you gotta go, over there! For no reason whatsoever! Yeah!’ and as we’re leavin, Martyn’s rollin up, lookin into our business.”

“Ohhhh my gosh.” He’d completely forgotten the interaction with Cleo in the whole horse debacle but that made so much sense! “It was all a- it was all a ruse?”

Tango pressed his back against the fence of the goat pen and put his head in his hands, “I think we just got played.”

There was silence between the two of them for a moment, Jimmy unable to take his eyes off his soulmate’s disappointment. Did he really care about the goats that much? As much as Jimmy did?

Tango was too caught up in his own frustration now, gesturing furiously at the pen, “And it cost us our goat operation!”

“Oh my gosh.”

“Where is he?” Tango stormed past Jimmy who took a step back watching him cautiously as he glared into the distance at Martyn’s house over the ravine, “Where is he? Oh it’s time for some TNT, look at him! In that red, disgusting blob.” He turned back to the ranch but almost immediately stopped and doubled back, clutching frantically at his hair that was starting to spark, “Oh we need, we need paper! For TNT!”

Jimmy suddenly realised why the past few weeks had been so perfect. Tango with all his grins and his laughs and his kind, gentle manner. Tango who was now pacing and yelling and losing it. They were both who he was soulbound to. He hadn’t seen this side of Tango yet. He’d seen only the warmth of the flame not he burns it was oh so capable of inflicting. Now the sparking, crackling madness in Tango’s gaze had him questioning. He reached out, heart thudding angrily at him and put a reassuring hand on Tango’s shoulder. Not calming. They were way past calming. Just, cautious and kind.

“Yeah we do,” he said with a gentle smile that his soulmate carefully returned.

Then Jimmy took his hand and pulled him away from Tango's frustration and toward the edge, toward something to do with all that energy that wasn’t tearing himself apart, “Hey Martyn!” he yelled into the ravine.

“Hello?” came back the confused and exasperated voice of Martyn, drifting across the ravine.

“You suck!”

“Hey friend!” Tango called with fury barely contained, “Hey friend!”

Martyn just glanced between the two of them in utter confusion, “How can you call me your friend after what he just said?”

“You killed our goats!” Jimmy shrieked, his fury was not at all contained and he was starting to wonder whether Tango was seeing a different side of him as well.

He wasn’t. Tango had already seen Jimmy get angry, a multitude of times. He got angry over so many small things, it somewhat lost impact when it came to the big things. Him being angry somewhat made Tango calmer, as if he had to counter balance it.

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about our goats would ya?”

The insinuation in his tone confused Martyn only for a moment before he understood. That’s what Cleo had been running off for. Well that wasn’t his problem. He’d had nothing to do with that, had he? But then again, he did know something. Should he tell them? No, surely he had to protect his soulmate, right? Cleo would certainly never forgive him. Play dumb, he decided.

“Goats?”

“Ohhh, you.”

Jimmy didn’t notice Tango fumbling for his bow as he explained, “All our goats are dead!”

“Youuuu,” Jimmy narrowly avoided Tango’s arrow that flung across the ravine and hit Martyn’s wall, near enough to his head to make him jump.

“I told you,” he shouted fiercely, “Literally the only thing I’ve ever needed is wool. I’ve never needed goats once. Have I ever come to you asking for goats?

Tango left, storming off up the hill, presumably to grab more arrows and Jimmy yelled, “When are you moving?”

“Never!” Martyn’s indignance was really starting to bother him, “This is- the art piece is nearly completed.

“This man,” Tango muttered, turning back around to shout at Martyn, “Read the signs!” while gesturing furiously at them.

“I told you! Book, and, quill. Ink. Paper. That’s what it’s gotta come in. It can’t come in this weird HOA over there.”

“No, no, no, no, no,” Tango laughed, shaking his head with a truly manic grin, “It’s not gonna come in paper now, it’s gonna come in the form of TNT!”

“It is,” Jimmy mumbled, watching his partner with a wary frown, “It is.”

Martyn just shrugged, “I don’t think you realise that that would actually add to the art piece okay? My heart exploding? Sounds pretty artsy to me!” Tango flipped him off and began heading up the hill, Jimmy followed suit, “It would be a live show and everyone would buy tickets alright?” Martyn continued shouting after them, “So get out of here!”

“This guy, man,” Jimmy tutted and Tango just wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close. Jimmy didn’t object but he could feel his panicked heart beat against him and it was slightly freaking him out just how much anger was coursing through Tango right now. Still, he seemed to calm as the two of them walked up toward the ranch house. The familiarity of home making everything a little more okay.

BigB and Ren carefully sorted through their stuff, divvying it out and taking a catalogue of everything that was missing. A fair amount, of enchanted stuff too.

“Pearl is also so nice though,” BigB muttered as Ren handed him a handful of gold nuggets he’d forgotten he had on him.

“I know,” his soulmate sighed, leaning back and staring up at the ceiling the way some people looked at the sky, “Dude, I feel so terrible being terrible to Pearl.”

BigB glanced up, watching him frown, deep in thought.

“I do,” he nodded, turning back to the dismal pile of things between them and giving up. Surely they could just dump it all in a chest for now.

“But seriously though!” Ren leant forward again, gesturing through his rant, “Like I don’t think she realises it. You know like when you get people that are cursed. And they’re really nice people but they get cursed by a demon? That’s Pearl right now! She’s cursed by a demon right now dude!” He stood and grabbed his sword as BigB agreed, “I also feel like that too.”

He just, it wasn’t that he didn’t like her. She seemed nice, she seemed like she was trying to just be a good person or whatever. But there was something wrong with her, something unsettling. Maybe Ren was right and she was cursed by a demon. BigB didn’t particularly want to know. He just didn’t want any part in it.

“I’m killing this enderman,” Ren called over his shoulder in a ‘by the way’ sort of tone that made BigB sigh. “I’m having my revenge.”

“I was thinking- I was thinking when we were over there,” Jimmy insisted as he shut the door behind him, “I was like, what’s- what’s special?”

 “Yeah,” Tango muttered, not really engaging at all as he quietly started a small fire in the grate.

Jimmy sat cross legged on the bed, biting his cheek. There was something about Tango tonight, something he couldn’t quite place. The horrible negative part of Jimmy said it was like he was hiding something. He generally tried to ignore that part of him but seriously…

“What’s- what’s going on here?” He tutted at his soulmate who froze only for a moment. Then the flames began licking at the fireplace and he turned with a frown, “Nothing. Nothing. We were- we were just boonswaggled.”

Jimmy shook his head as Tango stood and moved past him to clamber into bed, not even bothering to eat. Not that either of them had an appetite. For completely different reasons right now.

“What were you whispering to Scar about?” he clarified, turning to meet Tango’s gaze. He sat up a little, his frown deepening, “Nothing,” he insisted, tilting his head at Jimmy with an almost hurt expression, “You just- you got his horse!”

He grinned but it felt forced. Suddenly Jimmy was mourning for the careless excitement and enthusiasm of earlier that evening.

“No-” he paused, tears pricking at his eyes and wondering if he was being paranoid and reading way to far into this, “Is that the reason though?”

“What?” Tango frowned at him, laughing like he didn’t understand for a moment and then shaking his head, “Well I was distracting him and I was hoping you would do it,” he took Jimmy’s hand, the confusion draining out of his grin, “And you got it so it’s perfect!”

Jimmy let him pull him down into bed, let himself laugh and forget his concerns. He was just distracting Scar, he told the horrible knot in his stomach, you can go away now.

“Okay, alright, okay.” He mumbled, resting his head on Tango’s chest, reassured in the constant beating of his heart, not frantic, not panicked, not lying. “If you say so.”

“Dude erm, I think some of our stuff got yoinked though.” Ren sighed as he came back, twisting his ender pearl thoughtfully between his fingers before slipping it into his pocket, “Which is- which is no good.”

“Yeah I...” BigB got up from the pile and Ren fixed him with a curious frown that made his words seem to come out of his mouth through a layer of honey, “So, I overheard…Scott and Cleo saying like, I’ll take this, you take this, here let’s split this.”

Ren’s eyes went wide, feeling even worse now he knew Pearl had been telling the truth, “Really?”

BigB nodded solemnly, “I think we should talk to them.”

Ren threw an arm around his shoulder and the two of them wandered toward the ladder, leaving their things strewn across the floor, “I think that’s a conversation for uh, first thing tomorrow morning if you ask me.”

And BigB was far too tired to be any less than a hundred percent on board with that plan.

Light was already streaming into the ranch when Jimmy woke up. He and Tango generally woke up around the same time. But this morning it was far too early and Tango was bustling around like he'd been up for hours.

“We need to go have a talk with Cleo,” He called to Jimmy as he blinked sleep out of his eyes, pushing a mug of something hot and sweet-smelling into his hands and rushing away, “I’m gonna go talk to Cleo.”

Jimmy just nodded sleepily, “Go on,” he yawned, “Go, go, go, go.”

Tango flashed him a grateful smile and then he was gone and the silence around Jimmy was broken only by the huffs and grunts of cows. He sighed and leant his head back against the wall, wrapping his hands around the drink and wondering. He’d go help Tango in a few minutes. Once he’d woken up.

-

“Cleo!” Tango screamed as he stormed up to Scott’s house. The two of them were standing on the porch, leaning against the railing, chatting amiably like they hadn’t just been butchering goats. He made up the stairs as they both turned around with matching perplexed frowns and drew his sword, making Cleo step back and Scott’s hand jump to his own as he pointed it right at Cleo, “You!”

She flung up her hands, eyes narrowed and fixed on the blade, “What did- what did I do?”

“You think you can play me like that?”  he shouted as she shot a glance at Scott who pressed his hand onto the flat side of Tango's sword, pushing it down, “What’re you accusing my soulmate of?” he snapped, fixing him with a disapproving glare. Begrudgingly, Tango lowered his sword but not his volume, continuing in his onslaught of anger.

“Oh you think I’m brand new here! Huh?” He slid his sword fiercely into its scabbard, accepting he couldn’t use it anyway. “Oh, oh hey guys! Look at Scar he’s got uh stuff you should go check out Scar cos he’s doing great things,” Tango mimicked, pacing back and forth before clapping his hands aggressively at her, trying to startle them into a confession, “Bam! Goats are dead! Goats are dead now!”

“Goats are dead?” Cleo scoffed out an incredulous laugh, “Dead goats?”

“Wait your goats are dead?” Scott grinned, like this was all dandy and amusing.

“Yeah!” Tango’s voice had reached a new octave in his anger and his throat was actually hurting at this point.

“It couldn’t have been me,” Cleo assured him, flinging up their hands in surrender again and gesturing over to the hideous floating house, “I was talking to Martyn like as soon as you left!”

“Yeah exactly!” Tango yelled over both their chattered excuses. He didn’t care! He knew they’d have lies, have alibis, have excuses. He didn’t give a shit! He knew he’d been had and he wasn’t leaving here without a confession of that. “You sent us out! And then Martyn came in and did the deed. That’s what happened.”

It was taking all of Scott’s effort not to burst out laughing, exchanging a ‘this guy’ kind of look with Cleo behind his back as he gestured furiously over at Martyn.

“Why would Martyn be interested in that?” Cleo scoffed, just looking exasperated now. “Martyn came and talked to me.”

Tango just shook his head at her in utter disbelief. He’d caught her, she’d been rumpled! She needed to get over herself and own up now.

“I gave Martyn a flower!” they insisted, “I gave Martyn a flower. You can ask him. You can ask him to show- if he hasn’t go it, I’m gonna be cross.”

-

By the time Jimmy  made it over to Cleo’s, Tango was leaving, or at least, he was on the last step, half turned away and shouting over his shoulder. Jimmy came up behind him and he turned around, running straight into him and cursing under his breath. He smiled up at his soulmate then glared behind him, taking Jimmy’s hand and squeezing, either for moral support or to make a point or probably both.

“I think we know who our enemies are,” he snarled and Jimmy was almost scared. But Scott and Cleo seemed unbothered.

“I haven’t done anything!” Cleo cried, turning away and throwing their arms up in exasperation.

“We went,” Jimmy snapped, “To Scar’s fantastic thing. Amazing thing you said. It SUCKED! Cleo! It sucked! There was nothing there!”

“It’s lovely,” she frowned, taking a step back, “It’s great! Have you not seen the pandas?” She glanced between the two of them who just stared on his confusion and dismay.

“They’re stuck in a hole!” Tango shouted, “It’s just pandas in a hole! It’s inhumane.”

Jimmy turned to Scott who was just leaning against the wall, watching the whole scene unfold with an amused smirk. Hate boiled in his veins for the casual cruelty of the man in front of him.

“Scott,” he tutted which got him a raised eyebrow that was usually followed by a ‘Jimmy…’

“If you’ve got your guard down right now, Scott, alright? When we’re not here and we’re just here alone?” He took a step closer, throwing a dirty look at Cleo, “I’d get it back up! I’d get that guard back up! Cos you- you living with a TRAITOR!” he snapped, turning to Cleo who just folded her arms and glared at him.

Scott’s smirk dropped and he glanced between Jimmy and Tango, making no effort to hide his contempt. When his gaze met Jimmy’s, he just rolled his eyes, wondering why and how he ever loved him and simultaneously furious that he and Tango were so happy, so sure they were the good guys and everybody else was wrong for crossing them. Idiots, the both of them.

“Is she a traitor if she was never allied with you.”

“Well fun fact about Cleo,” Jimmy barraged on, ignoring Scott’s calm reason, “She likes killing goats!”

“Goat killer!” Tango screamed and Jimmy joined in, “Goat killer!”

“I’ve not touched any goats!”

“Wait all your goats are dead?”

Jimmy turned to Scott with a disbelieving expression as Tango snapped “Yes our goats are dead!”

“Our goats are dead,” Jimmy agreed solemnly, shooting another glare at Cleo then a pointed look at Scott.

“That’s kinda funny,” he scoffed, pushing himself off the railing with a smirk and gesturing off into the distance, completely ignoring the ranchers protesting, his snarking comment somehow cutting through everyone shouting over each other, “So what do you actually have at the ranch now? Are you just team R?”

He gestured over at the tower in the distance where Tango had affixed a giant R. For ranch, but clearly Scott thought it was funny to mock now that his fake soulmate had butchered the only animals they had on display. It just solidified Jimmy’s opinion that they needed the cows and chickens hidden.

“No,” Tango was protesting fiercely “We will-”

“You’re just team R cos there’s no-”

“NO! Hey!” Jimmy screamed over everyone, grabbing Tango’s hand and pulling him to the railing, shaking with furious energy as he gestured off at their ranch, alight with flames. “Someone set our base on fire!”

Scar was growing impatient and restless knowing that Grian hadn’t finished his built yet, wouldn’t, for a while. And the stupid ranchers, had his beautiful horse locked up somewhere. The thought of it made him itch with restless energy, chaos whispering in his ear, begging for the flint and steel he’d made, just sitting in the grass. If Grian wanted to be boring and sensible and make him wait around, fine. Fine!

He didn’t need Grian anyway. It wasn’t as though he was jumping to help him, spend time with him. He was waiting around for the good old days to come crashing back. For Grian’s maniacal laugh by his side, urging him on over his shoulder, hand in hand as they watched the world burn down.

He had to accept at some point that those days had passed.

“Uh I just need to do something real quick,” he called up to his soulmate, working tiredly on the roof. “I’ll be right back! No worries!”

Grian shrugged at him, hardly even acknowledging his presence, let alone his absence. So he left, flint and steel in tow, practically skipping off toward the ranch, grinning ear to ear. “We’re gonna burn, burn, burn,” he sung as it came into view over the hill, “The jolly ranchers to the ground.”

He figured they should know by now, as he clambered over the wall, glancing around to check they weren’t around. Rule of thumb; don’t mess with his animals. Pizza, yellow snow. It never worked out. For anyone.

Now he just needed to add a little heat. A spark, a flame. The wood was definitely catching now. Wonderful. He needed to sniff out his horse.

He felt the pair of eyes on him before he saw Martyn, in his little house in the middle of the ravine that looked like a giant bit of TNT, standing at the window with wide eyes pinned on Scar.

“Oh it’s Martyn,” he beamed as he made toward the edge of the cliff to call out to him, “Hello there Martyn!”

“Hi,” He sounded uncertain, not a usual trait for him. Scar was immediately suspicious but far too caught up in his bubble of fiery contentment to care all that much.

“Do you know where uh, Timmy and Jimmy are?”

Scar didn’t notice his mistake and Martyn didn’t have the wits about him, staring in blank concern, to correct him.

“Ah, oh my- no.” Martyn cleared his throat, hands tapping frantically against his windowsill and eyes wide.

Scar frowned. What was wrong with Martyn today? He started stammering, non of his words coherent but Scar could feel the buzz of his communicator going off far too much in his pocket. He retrieved it with a sigh, mumbling, “Why, why-?” Scott in chat was spamming RUN SCAR over and over. He tutted and turned away from Martyn, immediately taking up the same wide eyed shock, “Oh no!” he cried, staring back at the ranch. Completely alight, flames licking at the entire building, consuming it, sending a plume of thick dark smoke into the air.

Scar tried to clamber over the wall but his movements were far too scrambled in his panic. He needed to get out of here right now.

“There’s so much fire!” he cried as he slipped from the wall, pulling himself up to see the ranchers, running flailing back toward the building. They were coming back and their base had been devoured by fire, blazing brighter than the day around them. Oh no. Oh dear. That was a little bit more than a pat out job.

“WHAT?” Tango screamed and the two of them frantically scrambled down the stairs, hands slipping from one another as they sprinted away, full speed, tripping and stumbling and screaming but not slowing.

“Wait who is that?”

“It’s Scar!”

“It’s Scar!”

“Ohhhh he’s gonna die!”

Jimmy trailed after Tango’s absolute fury with an anger of his own that seemed meek in comparison, both screaming and flailing, clambering right over the gate. Jimmy’s overshirt was around his elbows somehow in his panic, Tango’s eyes were ablaze with fury. If Jimmy had been a little scared before, he was downright terrified now.

“SCARR!” Tango screamed, chasing after him only momentarily. Scar needed no incentive to run.

He heard Jimmy and Tango’s screams and just took off bolting, around the goat pen, through the ranch, over the wheat field. He had no direction, he just needed to be out of reach of either of their swords.

 Luckily for for him, they had bigger issues right now.

“Put it out! Put it out!” Jimmy cried, “Quickly! Quickly!”

They both knew it was probably no use but they tried anyway. Jimmy threw himself at the building, trying desperately to get up through the remains. He peeled off his shirt, trying to smother it and failing miserably. Just ending up with a burnt shirt and exposed arms that were stinging with heat.

“Where would you put a horse if you didn’t have a ranch,” Scar shrugged, leaning over the wall with a self-satisfied smile.

Tango wasted no time in grabbing his bow and Scar bolted. He shot a rain of arrows after him, only one of which actually met its target. “DIE!” he shrieked after him.

“It’s actually burning!” Jimmy cried, a sob breaking in his words, “It’s all burning down! He’s burnt the ranch down!”

Tango was somewhat beyond words, just screaming into the flames, surrounding him, licking at his legs and bursting from his head. He was furious, he was fuming and flaming and utterly beyond articulation.

“Tango it’s spreading still!” Jimmy shrieked, clambering up the wall and stomping aggressively through the fire like it might make any difference. The smoke was assaulting his eyes and nose with a sharp stinging pain. He couldn’t breathe, choking and clambering on aimlessly. “Get to the top of the tower! Get to the top of the tower!”

"I'm trying!" Tango grabbed at a ladder just as it fell off the wall and had to pull back, ducking to avoid the wreckage as it crumbled to the ground.

“I can’t stop it!” Jimmy wailed, “I literally can’t stop it!”

His face was stained with tears and he honestly couldn’t tell if it was from the smoke or just his own anger and grief.

“I’m coming!” he heard Martyn call and it sounded far too faint. Was he actually about to die?

Tango leapt up through the structure, trying to ignore what he was sure was soul bound pain making his eyes water and his breath short. The flame caught on his shirt and he screamed, desperately patting it out, trying to get higher still, getting consumed by more fire. Jimmy collapsed into the grass, coughing and gasping for breath as the stinging heat of Tango being on fire burned at his skin.

“I’m gonna burn to death!” Tango screamed desperately, trying and failing to back out of the fire. Jimmy clutched about for his food, sobbing into the grass, “No! Tango don’t die!”

People flocked to the ranch, bringing buckets of water that were tossed desperately into the flames. Martyn was joined by Scott and Cleo and Joel and Etho. Between the lot of them, they managed to douse most of the fire, though small flames still crackled here and there. Tango managed to put himself out and eventually, Jimmy dragged him out of the fire, insisting they abandon the ranch. They couldn’t die over this as well. He wouldn’t give Scar that satisfaction and he wouldn’t be the first red.

Eventually, they just stood there, arms all tangled in each other’s, watching the last of the fire burn itself out. Jimmy buried his tearstained face in Tango’s shoulder and he just stood there, quite literally burning with rage. Everyone around them stared for a few moments before Joel ventured.

“Guys, what’s happened?”

“Ohhhh, Scar.” Tango muttered, completely ignoring  Joel but accurately answering his question.

“The ranch!” Jimmy sobbed, staring in utter dismay.

“What did you say to Scar to provoke this?” Scott asked, shaking his head incredulously at the whole scene

“The ranch!” Tango screamed again, clearly not interested in any of the conversation going on around him. He ran forward toward the flames and then backtracked a little, apparently deciding it wasn’t worth it. “He’s going to die!!”

He grabbed his communicator from where it had been abandoned in the grass and read as he typed, “IT’S BBQ PANDA TIME”

“Oh no,” Cleo laughed, shaking their head before turning to Jimmy with their hands on their hips, “What did you say to Scar?” she insisted, leaning one arm on her ‘soulmate’.

“I took his horse!” Jimmy put his hands up, watching his fuming soulmate cautiously, “That was it!”

Tango was trying to force himself to calm but was utterly failing, a headache forming right behind his eyes and his hands shaking. His breath was coming in sharp puffs he tried to steady but just ended up sounding like a deranged laugh.

“You took his horse?” Scott sounded shocked, as if it were a tantamount crime to burning someone’s house down.

There was a collective groan from the crowd of onlookers, as if everything suddenly made total sense.

“You took his horse!”

“Why would you take his horse?”

“Why would you antagonise him?”

“That doesn’t mean you burn down the ranch!” Jimmy shouted over them.

“Oh no that is exactly what that means!” Cleo shook their head at him, tutting at Scott who just looked amused.

“Etho?” Tango murmured, putting one hand on his shoulder mostly just to steady himself, “Etho.”

“Yeah?” he turned to him with a concerned frown, putting a steadying hand on his arm, “Calm down.”

“I’m having some flashbacks Etho!” he cried, fully shaking with anger now, unable to stop his frantic breathing.

“Is it a rage moment,” he said cautiously, “Rage moment?”

“I’m having some flashbacks Etho!” He screamed this time, clenching his fists and pressing them into his eyes until he could only see dots and the headache had worsened tenfold.

“Maybe Scar will sell you a rage crystal,” Etho laughed, patting his friend on the back, attempting to help but not really succeeding. He wasn’t good at this sort of stuff.

Jimmy rushed up to Tango, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and letting a grateful Etho slip into the crowd. “Tango, snap out of it,” he insisted, his tone gentle but assertive, taking his soulmate’s hands and fixing him with a pointed look, forcing him to meet his gaze, to focus on nothing but him. “Tango, snap out of it.”

It somewhat helped, the peace he found in his soulmate’s big brown eyes a consolation, a comfort. It didn’t calm him but it gave him something to focus on, something other than the burning ranch and his shaking hands and the unsteady anger in his breathing that could turn into sobbing if he dropped his energy only a little.

“Breathe Tango,” Cleo insisted, fixing him with a friendly genuine smile that made him almost regret pointing a sword at her earlier.

“This was community watch right here, you all came to help!” Jimmy smiled appreciatively at everyone, “I know Tango doesn’t-” he paused, glancing at his soulmate and clearing his throat, “He’s, he’s having a moment. But we- we appreciate it. We appreciate it.”

“So we can take the HOA signs down yeah?” Martyn raised an eyebrow at Jimmy who sighed and reluctantly nodded.

“I’ll take down the signs. I’ll take down the signs. This is-”

Tango doubled over and screamed at the ground. Jimmy shot a concerned glance at him that he barely registered.

“Tango you okay?” Joel laughed. And when even Joel was concerned for someone’s mental wellbeing, something had to be deeply wrong.

Jimmy was back beside him with a hand on his arm muttering, “Breathe, breathe.”

“I think you need to express yourself physically,” Etho suggested, always the devil on his shoulder. Jimmy shot him a glare.

Tango just laughed manically, making straight for the wall and clambering over, laughing easier than sobbing and certainly easier than breathing.

“That’s the only way it’s gonna work,” Etho insisted and there was a murmur of excited concern throughout the group as everyone followed him out of the ranch. He began up the hill, thinking Etho was probably right. He needed a way to get his energy out. He needed to burn something to the ground or he needed to punch Scar in the face or something. He wasn’t Jimmy. He couldn’t just stand there and accept the world. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

“Oh he’s going,” Joel laughed.

“He’s going!”

“Let’s go!”

“Hold on,” Tango turned back with a sudden clarity, shaking his head and making back down the hill, “I- if we’re gonna do this I need a flint and steel.”

“No, no, no. Tango let’s think about this!” Jimmy ran up to him again, taking his hands and taking deep breaths that forced Tango to fall into rhythm, “Tango,” he muttered calmly, “Let’s think about this.”

“Kill his pandas Tango!” Cleo was next to him too and Scott was next to her and he didn’t know where Joel and Etho had gone but there were too many people saying too many different things and he couldn’t think and he couldn’t breathe and he was so tired, so angry, so upset.

“Tango, Tango.” He focused on Jimmy. Jimmy’s deep brown eyes with all their sincerity. Jimmy who he trusted, Jimmy who he knew didn’t have any ulterior motives, would never, ever try to hurt him. “Don’t go straight over. We gotta- we gotta

“What if you just kill one of the pandas?”

“He’s got pandas in a hole. Lava.”

“The pandas are definitely gone!” Tango shouted, mostly just to get them to be quiet so he could think, “I’m thinking what we do on top of that now. Let’s see.”

He turned to Joel and Etho, still up the hill, swords out and ready to go. Then Jimmy’s hand was on his arm again, pulling him back toward him.

“No,” he insisted, gaze unflinchingly fixed on his soulmate, “We need to think about it. We need to take a breather. Take a day…”

“No I think you just go use this fuel,” Scott shrugged.

“Stop egging him on!” Jimmy cried, hitting Scott away and scowling at both of them, “You just want to see destruction!”

Which settled Tango’s thoughts. Jimmy was his soulmate, he wanted what was best for him. He didn’t trust Scott or Cleo. He couldn’t even really trust Etho. He took Jimmy’s hand and he nodded with a smile, leading Tango back inside and throwing the finger up at everyone else.

“Are you gonna let Scar get away with that?” Cleo threw one last attempt as they made back over the wall.

“No!” Jimmy vehemently shook his head, “Oh he ain’t getting away with it! But we’re gonna- we’re gonna take some time.”

He shooed the rest of them away and lead Tango into what was left of inside. Of everything that had happened, it was the sight of the burnt crisp of their bed that did it for him. That finally dropped his anger into grief, his heavy frantic breathing into sobs. He curled up on the floor, Jimmy’s arms wrapped around him and the smoke still lingering in the air.

“This is horrible,” He sobbed, clinging to Jimmy like a lifeboat in a tumultuous sea. Perhaps that’s what he’d become. The only thing that would be there, no matter what, come whatever came, until the very end. Jimmy said nothing, he couldn’t bring himself to. But that was okay. Tango didn’t need him to. Didn’t need him to be anything other than there. Just existing in each other’s misery was enough for now and Tango found he calmed, just a little.

He didn’t have his ranch, but at least he still had his rancher.

“Okay Grian I got good news and bad news!” Scar called as he made it back to their base, buzzing with adrenalin and grinning ear to ear. Grian was chopping down one of the many trees they'd been growing in the panda reserve. Mangrove trees mostly because Grian needed the wood and Scar needed the roots. His soulmate was still just in a bubble of niceties and ignorance.

“What do you mean you made an enemy?” Grian returned immediately, words tumbling out far too quickly for Scar’s liking. He cleared his throat and shrugged, “I um…burned down the ranch.”

Grian stared for a few moments blankly before burying his head in his hands and snapping, “Why?” in utter exasperation.

“Well they stole our horse!” Scar shrugged and Grian noted that was one of the first times it had been referred to as ‘our horse' all week. “And you know, an eye for an eye, and they need to know not to steal our livestock you know.”

Grian stared at him blankly again and then groaned, setting down his axe and pulling out his communicator.

“Do you think they’re gonna come after the pandas?”

Scar’s voice sounded so sad and pathetic Grian almost felt bad for him before remembering he’d completely and utterly brought this upon himself.

“BBQ panda time,” Grian read from the chat with an exasperated laugh.

Scar glanced over his shoulder, silently staring at the screen. Grian slowly turned to fix him with a sarcastically inquisitive expression.

“Well I guess that answers my question.”

Chapter Text

<SolidarityGaming> our ranch is gone…

<Grian> so is our horse

“Scar,” Grian groaned as he made his way into his soulmate’s stupid panda area, legs weary with the effort. He’d spent days working on this and he was finally, finally finished. His startled soulmate turned away from his baby plants to beam at him, “Yes? Hello, hi!”

“What do you think? It’s done! You can stop harvesting wood now,” he leant an arm on Scar’s shoulder and laughed but the relief on both their faces was genuine.

“I would appreciate never to chop down a mangrove tree.”

Grian nodded, sighing at the grass, “Yeah, I know.”

“Base looks great!” Scar assured him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders that forced Grian’s off his. “But please don’t let me ever have to do that again.” Grian wrapped his free arm around Scar’s waist instead and pulled him closer, too tired to care how vulnerable he felt, just burying his face in the soft fabric of Scar’s shirt and letting himself forget everything except the familiarity of his soulmate’s closeness. “It does look great,” he mumbled, “And that’s what matters.”

There was a silence for a few moments between them before Scar turned to Grian with a raised eyebrow and a tone that didn’t even try to sugar coat, “Martyn said it looked like a cake.”

Martyn had been around earlier, looking for some mangrove wood and stopped for a chat. Him and Scar seemed to be getting along well and Grian was somewhat reassured that at least Scar was making friends as well as enemies. Cake was somewhat the aim, or certainly he hadn’t been surprised when it turned out looking a little cake-ish. It wasn’t the issue he’d had with Martyn’s comments.

“Um, Martyn did point out something,” he begrudged, “that um, makes me very upset.”

“Oh what happened?” Scar sounded so concerned, big brown eyes so upset as he fixed Grian with an inquisitive stare.

“Um he just, very casually pointed out, the nearly three days I’ve spent on this build, is very, very flammable.”

Scar gasped, before turning up his nose and shaking his head, “Eugh.”

Another silence as they both regarded the cake as potential kindling for someone’s rage. And Scar had already made a very fiery enemy. When Scar had asked, Martyn had described Tango as ‘heated’ with a suggestive smirk.

“Let’s just not…” Grian paused, grimacing, “bring that up.”

Scar took a moment before nodding slowly, “Yeah I mean uhm.”

They both burst out laughing, shaking their heads in exasperation at the time both of them had spent. Only for this to be the outcome. Grian drew away, eyes fixed on the spikey cake as he made for the door. He didn't make it very far before he was drawn back by Scar scoffing,

“Yeah, don’t have anything to do with fire or anything.”

He turned back with an accusatory look, his face so close it made Scar feel like he might pass out. “Yeah,” he grinned, “who would set someone’s base on fire?”

“Yeah,” Scar laughed, just shrugging and Grian rolled his eyes affectionately, turning away again. And Scar grinned after him, proud of himself that he was able to keep his focus even with his soulmate's fathomless eyes locked on his. “I mean you’re the one with the flint and steel so I’d keep that away if I were you.”

Grian frowned up at him, knowing Scar well enough to immediately pat down his pockets and sure enough, there in his left trouser pocket was a scuffed-up flint and steel, “Wait, how did I get this?”

He turned back to Scar with a sceptical grin. He just smirked knowingly and turned away with a shrug, “I don’t know man, crazy things happen.”

Yes, they do, Grian thought mischievously, striking the flint until a small flame licked at Scar’s wall. He was immediately there with water and a scowl at Grian who just snorted with laughter, “Not the sanctuary!” he cried, bashing at Grian with his cane, which only made him laugh more.

Scar had long since fallen asleep and Grian was wide awake, trying to ignore his soulmate's arms, still wrapped around his waist, limp in their sleepiness. It was adorable and he hated it.

The only thing he hated more than fighting with Scar was him being sweet and cute and unbelievably endearing. The only thing he hated more than hating Scar was loving him.

He stared at the ceiling and tried to force his mind to be blank, so he could sleep, only to be woken by fitful nightmares anyway. He hadn’t slept properly all week and he was exhausted. And he was too hot, between his limb, all tangled in the blankets, Scar, practically a radiator next to him and the simmering coals of the fire that had cooked their dinner heating the whole spikey cake to oblivion.

He stood abruptly, letting Scar’s arms slip off him and kicked the blanket off his feet, stepping out of the makeshift bed on the floor because somehow between the two of them, they still hadn’t built a proper bed. Shelter had been Grian’s priority and pandas and arson had been Scar’s.

He made downstairs into the bottom floor of the cake, forcing his breathing to steady. He wasn’t sure what exactly to do there so he just paced, glancing around at the walls, the light flickering in through slight gaps here and there, a constant reminder of his mistakes.

When it came down to it, Grian knew he should be happy. There was nothing wrong with Scar. All the problems in their relationship were coming from him. If he could just get over himself and force a smile, fake it until it was real and he didn’t care and he wasn’t bitter anymore…if and if and if. Maybe in a million different circumstances, he could be happy with his fate.

But he wasn’t.

He still couldn’t sleep, still couldn’t smile, still couldn’t look Scar in the eye without crumbling into a million pieces, broken at the bottom of a cliff again, back burning up in the desert heat.

The problem was that there was so much history, so much happiness but also so much pain. Grian wanted a fresh slate. He wanted to move on and find something new and untainted and beautiful. Someone who wouldn’t chase pandas around and burn buildings down. Someone who wasn’t exhausting to be around.

Someone who he could lay beside and actually sleep.

And he knew exactly who that somebody was. Grian didn't give a shit about fate at this point. He knew it wasn't real anyway. He wanted to be with who would make him happy and he could think of only one man. The man he'd been so sure about since the beginning, so devastated to find out fate had not blessed him so, the man who had cared when Scar hadn't, saved him on the mountain when Scar had been doing who knew what trying desperately to kill him. BigB. BigB who was competent and smart and caring. BigB, who he couldn't stop wondering about. What if he could have him, love him, choose him. What then? Would he be happy? Would he be able to stop?

His heart ached for the man lying upstairs, peacefully asleep. His gut protested wildly the decision he knew he was about to make. But his brain had already made it, had already latched onto the idea of BigB, of choosing happiness, of simpler and forced an illusion onto the rest of his body that he was happy to do so. That this was what was best.

He grabbed his jumper from where it was slung over his chests and pulled it on as he thought through things as much as he could. What was his plan here other than trespassing and adultery? How did he win someone over?

His eyes fell to his chest and he shrugged, it was as good a plan as any. With endless annoying gifts.

Grian had always liked to cook, from what little he knew of himself. He found something comforting in especially baking. The precise measurement of things, that the trained eye could just work out, the accuracy and caution it took to make everything perfectly right, the finished product, delicious and beautiful. An object of perfection, and the knowledge that time and a great deal of care had crafted it. So he spent a solid few hours in the middle of the night, humming to himself, baking bread. He got jittery with what could be nerves but was probably excitement. For his opportunity to have something new, something beautiful and untainted by the world. His chance, his shot.

And he’d be damned if he didn’t shoot it.

He made outside and immediately felt much cooler, the air pricking at his face and stinging his eyes. He folded his arms and walked a bit quicker to combat the shivering. He’d hardly gotten over the hill before he stopped dead in his tracks. At the sight of the blackened, charred remains of the ranch.

Oh Scar. What have you done?

Why did he burn his neighbours house? Seriously? When he said he burned down the ranch, Grian thought it was an exaggeration at least a little. He knew he’d been somewhat complacent but it really hadn’t clicked in his brain. This was bad. Scar was a menace. He knew that but somehow he always managed to forget quite how much until…well until he went and burned his neighbours house quite literally to the ground.

This was why he needed a new soulmate.

His chest burned with the effort of the hill as the hideous, hideous box appeared from behind the trees. It really wasn’t the easiest place in the world to get to. Perhaps that was the idea.

“That’s right,” he murmured sassily to himself, picturing Ren building this stupid box with his self-assured confidence, not giving a rats ass about BigB, “I’m breaking into your house.” Though house was a loose term, “I’m gonna steal your man.”

Scott had, as of ten o’clock in the morning, had a fairly productive day. He’d been planning for a few days now to make a wall around his house and turn it into some sort of retreat but it was only since the ranch had burnt down that the idea had fully solidified in his mind. And it wasn’t just to annoy Jimmy. But that was certainly a benefit.

He just generally wanted to cause some chaos, by making a relationship ranch. The plan was for it to be like a couples therapy thing, given how wildly dysfunctional most of the soulmate pairs he’d interacted with or heard about so far were. Except it wasn’t actually to help with that. He was going to invite actual soulmate pairs over to the relationship ranch and just try to split them up. That was the goal.

He just really wanted to encourage people to make relationships outside of their soulbound. This whole everybody’s in love bullshit was stifling and he hated it. He and Cleo were doing wonderfully without needing their soulbounds, and as far as he was concerned, anyone else could too. There certainly seemed to be a lot of issues. Bdubs and Impulse were so insecure they were trying to break up everyone else to be better than them, Scar and Grian had a whole multitude of problems nobody wanted to touch. Joel and Etho seemed to spend half their time fighting and from what Scott had overheard that morning, there was even trouble at box.

It sounded as though they were discussing some sort of open soulbound relationship. From what little Scott knew about him, he couldn’t imagine that being something Ren wanted. But who knew. Either way, it was certainly something he could exacerbate at the relationship ranch.

That was the plan anyway.

By the time Cleo woke up, he’d made a good start on the wall around his base. He did work fast when he set his mind to it. He made across the bridge toward them, grinning and waving. They sat on the edge, legs swinging into the ravine, since it was fairly late in the morning, and they could be outside without shivering viciously. Fortunately for the two of them, for once, neither had anything to debrief so it was just a peaceful quiet moment. Scott lay his head on Cleo’s shoulder, sighing deeply.

“So what’s your plan for today?” they mumbled sleepily, smiling down at him. He grinned, more than excited to share his plan with her.

“So, I am going to open a couples retreat that is basically just me trying to split up other soulbounds. I’m also going to turn it into a relationship ranch and just take the goats that I had hidden and make it into like a petting zoo sort of thing.”

Cleo nodded with a wheezing laugh, entirely on board, “Perfect. That’s perfect.”

They’d been feeling the same thing Scott had. The stifling, suffocating feeling of literally everyone else being giddy in love. Of feeling mocked for trying to make their own fate.

Scott asked them their plans, but they just sighed and stared at the horizon with a shrug Scott could feel was a lie. They knew, and they didn’t want to talk about it. It made him wary but out of respect for her, he didn’t push it. She’d tell him when she was ready, he was sure.

Whenever he was with them and everything felt so calm, he was rather pessimistically reminded that none of it could last. Perhaps that was a mindset issue for him, but it certainly would be nice to have something nice that wasn’t set in stone to crumble to pieces soon enough. Maybe that was what the soulbounds were supposed to be about, but he doubted it. No design of the Watchers would ever be to give them peace, even if that were an unintended side effect.

“Are you ready for our axe crit?” Scott asked with a devious little smile and Cleo nodded through a yawn, “Of course, of course.” They both clambered to their feet, grabbing the axes they’d brought with them to the bridge for that exact reason. Axes because they’d learned quite quickly that it wasn’t sustainable to actually draw blood or create a wound. So it was more of a swift, one whack bludgeoning. Pain, but not any actual danger.

Once they were both stinging and aching with enough pain to infuriate their soulbounds, they made to settle themselves back on the railing, laughing as they discarded of their axes. Unfortunately, they weren’t about to be left to their peace and quiet. The laughter died between them as Cleo groaned.

“Here- here comes Martyn.”

Scott turned, rolling his eyes and Cleo leant on his shoulder, half for moral support and half just to piss off Martyn. He leant toward her and with a smirk muttered, “Here comes your boyfriend.”

Cleo just rolled their eyes affectionately. She didn’t know what her and Martyn were at this point. She knew Scott said it as more of a joke, but she honestly wasn’t sure. They thought Martyn was in the same boat as Scott in only liking men. Certainly, all the evidence suggested as such but maybe he was more like her and would go either way. Even if he did, he probably didn’t like her like that. Did he? She supposed in theory, that was probably the point of the soulbounds, to be romantic. Weren’t they? The way it was phrased, soulmates and all that. But she would have thought fate or the Watchers or whatever had devised the pairs wouldn’t have romantically paired Scott with a woman if it were deliberately romantic. Maybe it wasn’t any of the above and was just random chance. In which case who the fuck cared what Martyn thought because he was just a guy, she happened to share pain with, nothing more. In that case, they weren’t really supposed to be anything. They just happened to be something.

“What’s this, every week; axe crit!” Martyn came up shouting, throwing his arms around gesturing like a madman. “I felt it then! I felt it now!”

Cleo didn’t really have an answer to that. To piss you off? To get revenge for something you’ve forgotten even happened?

Scott just smiled, sickly sweet, “This is our bonding exercise.” Then grabbed his axe and hit her again, a lot softer this time which made her laugh and nod fervently, “See! See, this is how we show affection.”

Martyn swung an axe from his belt and swiped at Cleo, drawing blood across her shoulder and making her gasp and curse, stumbling into the railing.

“Oh that’s how we do it,” he snapped, sarcasm dripping on his tone.

Cleo sighed leaning against Scott a little so she could put pressure on the cut, even if she could already feel it was fairly shallow. Martyn knew what he was doing with an axe, every sting of pain was intentional. They couldn't wishfully think he'd made a mistake and gone too far. What they were feeling was just what he wanted them to feel, no more, no less. And at least he'd been oddly kind enough to make it a shallow cut, a fairly difficult feat with such an aggressively swung axe.

“You can’t take our thing,” Scott snapped, quick with the response as ever, cutting and clear before Martyn could even shoot his cocky glare at Cleo, “This is our thing!”

Martyn scoffed, his gaze turning angrier and something that vaguely resembled disgust catching in his eyes.

“You don’t even have a thing, okay?”

Cleo straightened out of pure offence, wincing at the ripple of pain through her shoulder, “We definitely have a thing!” they snapped, mentally noting that the relationship ranch couldn’t come soon enough.

“You sure?” Scott quipped, much calmer than Cleo but simmering with reigned in fury diluted into frustration, “Because we seem to currently have a bridge that you’re on, some houses that we have…”

Martyn glared him down for a moment, his heart turning in his stomach. He felt ill, watching the two of them with their precious little houses and stupid axe crits. The way his eyes refused to tear off Cleo’s arm on Scott’s shoulder confused and infuriated him. He didn’t, shouldn’t care about them this much. He didn’t want to be Cleo’s soulmate. He hadn’t asked for this! He was perfectly fine being alone, of course he was. He’d only betray her if she trusted him anyway, right? So why did he hate the two of them and their perfect domesticity quite so much? He didn't care. Right now, he needed to leave.

“At least I have a heart!” he grumbled, turning away with a half-assed gesture over at his house, “Can’t say that for everybody here.”

“Do you?”

“I mean you have a blob.”

Their mocking chased him off the bridge and he ran to the other side of Scott’s house, pressing his back against the wall as his breath shook with self-righteous anger. He thought it was anger anyway, but his heart was thudding like it might be about to warp into tears. He cleared his throat and pushed himself off the wall, clenching his fists and grabbing out his things. Cleo and Scott were so getting a home moaners sign.

Cleo snorted as the two of them watched Martyn go, huffing off like the world had personally wronged him. God, he was so detached from the two of them. So caught up in peering in and making snap judgements. Not actually taking any time to consider their situation.

"I think I need to start reeling him in," she laughed frustratedly, leaning against Scott who lead her back toward his house, glancing nervously at her bleeding shoulder. It was the last thing they needed at this point. With yellow lives plentiful throughout the players and more dropping fast, the two of them had been talking about how much potential this whole soulbound thing had to make things go downhill really fast. They were already, in a way, preparing for the end and though others would probably think it hasty if they knew, they were both sure it would serve them eventually.

"I was gonna say," Scott sighed, "I've got the psychotic version and you've got the jealous ex."

Which had Cleo thinking about Martyn again, thinking about what the two of them were. Or could be, she supposed. If it hadn't been for things being the way they were. Were the two of them struggling back to a friendship? If she'd found him instead of Scott, would they be happy? What would they have in that scenario? It was too many what ifs for her liking. Either way, being constantly at odds was exhausting and they'd much rather just sort things out with him so they could move on with their life with Scott.

She followed Scott into his house, sitting down at the kitchen table as he retrieved his little bag of scrapped together medical supplies he was slowly collecting. The two of them were preparing for the end times after all.

"Yeah. But... I might- I might start trying to meet him like literally halfway."

They gazed out at his little blob. It's stupid unstable bridge extended toward theirs. He'd told her what he wanted from her, maybe now was time to give in. Just a little bit. They knew they weren't blameless in the situation and maybe, just maybe, if they did their part, he would do his.

Ren wasn’t there when BigB woke, not an unusual occurrence but a surprising one this morning. The two of them were rather different sleepers. In that BigB liked to have a lot and Ren needed barely any. So it wasn’t unusual for Ren to come back home a half hour after his soulmate had woken up, having already been up doing things for hours and talk very fast at him until BigB eventually insisted, “Ren! Be quiet.” and he finally shut up, grinning sheepishly and rushing off to make breakfast.

Still, Ren had told BigB they’d talk to Scott and Cleo this morning about stealing their stuff. And now he’d gone off doing his own things? It put BigB’s anxious paranoia on edge and he forced himself to calm. Get out of bed, make his own breakfast. Ren would be back soon enough. It did, fortunately, give him time to surprise him. He’d been stowing a few things downstairs in the basement level of box that he’d been working on whenever Ren was out the past week. He was earnestly so excited to see his soulmate’s reaction. He’d etched his name into the chest in the hopes that it would keep Ren out. Clearly, it hadn’t because today when he went to open it, there was a heart shaped box of mangrove wood rested on top.

He couldn’t help the beam that immediately split his face as he hurried toward it, taking it with careful hands. He couldn’t believe Ren had done that for him. Well, he could. Ren was a very generous person; he just wasn’t always the most considerate and well- this didn’t entirely seem like something he would do. Did it?

He didn’t need to question the character of his soulmate further because he noticed the little note left on top, and his name in neat perfectly in line handwriting that definitely wasn’t Ren’s. Besides that, he and Ren didn’t have paper. Clearly, somebody did.

Somebody, who was leaving him notes and a heart shaped box.

He flipped open the page and read with greedy curiosity.

Get yourself a soulmate who doesn’t die to enderman.

The handwriting was in perfect rows, the first sentence, in all its casual cruelty, ended with a little heart. BigB was immediately intrigued. They were shit talking his soulmate and more than that, they were encouraging him (with a little heart at that) to…what, leave Ren? Was that even an option? The second sentence cleared up any ambiguity.

I baked you this bread. It’s made of GRAIN

- Secret admirer

BigB had to laugh at the ‘secret admirer’. Not so secret, anyone who could read could figure out who that was. It’s made of grain. He was quite sure this was Grian. It had to be.

Now he just had to hope that he didn’t open up the box and immediately die. It seemed very possible that this could be an elaborate trap. Though why Grian would want, or be allowed, to trap him was a whole other question. He’d largely lost faith in anyone’s ability for pacifism since Scar had burned Jimmy and Tango’s house to the ground.

But he didn’t die, thankfully. Instead, he found three loaves of bread, arranged well into the odd shaped box. It was both a pleasant surprise and a horrifying moment of clarity. This wasn’t a trap, and that meant it was genuine. Grian actually meant to suggest…what BigB was quite sure he was suggesting. That he should leave Ren and become ‘soulmates’ with him. BigB didn’t know how to feel about that. Sure, he wasn’t sure about Ren. Given how dramatic and intense he always was, about everything and how it had ended last season but…He still wanted to be his soulmate. Didn’t he? Yes! Yes, absolutely he did. Ren was still the best thing that ever happened to him. Ren was still the person he cared about most in the world. He wasn’t about to abandon him in an instant just because there was another option! Was he?

Either way, he couldn’t let Ren come home and see this. He’d lose all trust in BigB, and he couldn’t let that happen. He had a secret admirer? He couldn’t let Ren figure that out, he’d be fuming. He stuffed the note into his pocket and the box into the chest. At which point he saw his surprise for Ren and felt a wave of guilt wash over him. Why was he considering this? He’d been preparing this for Ren all week, he’d been excited. He was excited! He liked Ren, he loved him. He was great! He grabbed out the clothes and abandoned the box alone in the chest, deciding to forget that it existed. He was loyal. He cared about Ren and he was going to stay by him. Just the two of them and Box, to the end. He wasn’t going to even think about grain, or Grian or the possibilities of other relationships.

He had Ren. That was all he needed.

Ren had left Box in a little more daylight than usual. Perhaps it was the settling shaken exhaustion of dying demanding sleep from him. Perhaps it was just that between dealing with Pearl and dying and sorting out their stuff, it had been nearly midnight before Ren and BigB got to bed, and even then, Ren was restless, wide awake for at least an hour trying to steady his frantic messy thoughts. Either way, while usually he left in the crisp dark, the only signs of day the scent of the air and chirping of particularly enthusiastic songbirds, today he left in a settled veil of pale light and mist that seemed to wrap around him, enveloping the world in a slightly unnerving calm. The surreal mid-point between the horrors of the night and the dangers of the day. That terrifying because it was unseen and that terrifying because seeing it made no difference. And caught in the unfortunate mid-point, Ren couldn’t decide which he feared more, what had been or what was yet to come. He certainly feared what was yet to come more given what had been. His soulbound illuminated in front of him was a constant reminder of his failings and the precarious situation they put him in. Not just him but his soulmate. The problem was that Ren had often been the one who made the sacrifice. He would give up anything, including and perhaps especially, his own health and safety, to ensure his partner or teammates, his queen or his kingdom, was safe and protected. It hadn’t gotten him wins in the past but it had gotten him friends. And Ren would rather die with his morals in tact than win letting himself down.

But this season, there was BigB. BigB who he wanted to, and had in the past, given up everything for. And couldn’t. His everything was BigB’s everything. And you couldn’t give a man what he already had.

So, Ren had just died. Stupidly, and in vein. He knew he couldn’t take it back and he didn’t know what to do to show someone he cared if he couldn’t die for them. Which was an odd moment of clarity for him.

He’d decided being a provider was the best way to go, helping BigB out, keeping the two of them alive. So this morning, he was headed, sword in tow, to the river rushing, down at the bottom of the ravine, washing the unfortunate sorrows of the world into the infinite uncertainty beyond the world border. He wasn’t sure how collecting enough fish to feed a family of five was supposed to win over his soulmate. But here he was, with his trousers and sleeves rolled up, knee deep in the river, fingertips like shrivelled prunes from hours of sword fishing, goosebumps fading as the sun began to stream in concentrated beams of golden glow, into the ravine.

He really needed to head back to Box now. The morning had well and truly risen and so, most likely, had BigB. Which meant it was well time for Ren to abandon his fishing and take his haul back to his soulmate.

His plans were almost immediately waylaid as he made up the mountain side that staggered down into the ravine, legs and chest burning with the effort, and caught sight of electric green shining through the duller tone of the grass.

“Martyn!” he called enthusiastically, making the man in front of him turn around and smile that lopsided grin of his.

“Look at those shades,” he made down the hill toward Ren as he gushed, a condescending hint of sarcasm in his voice but his tone surprisingly genuine overall. “Looking very uh…” he paused, clicking his tongue, at an apparent loss for words.

“Yellow,” Ren offered, forlorn just as Martyn muttered, “Lack of life.” And laughed as he grimaced. Martyn’s face fell as Ren stared dejectedly at the grass, shaking his head with a sigh. He put a hand on his shoulder, rubbing reassuring circles with his thumb, “How are you?”

“Sad,” Ren mumbled frankly, gesturing to his pack, “Been collecting fish.”

Martyn frowned, leaning around Ren to glance sceptically at his pack, “Is that your food supply right now?”

“Yeah,” Ren shrugged, “I got a ton of fish though. So I’m good.” He threw an arm around Martyn, brightening up a bit as the two of them began up the hill again, “What you up to?”

“Uh I am currently going around and putting signs on everybody’s properties,” Martyn begun and Ren laughed, just knowing this was going to be a quality Martyn rant, “Uh Tango basically set up the home owners association and said that my build over here,” he gestured off into the distance as Ren struggled out a “Yeah?” through his laughter. “Um, was an eyesore. So I’m going around putting up signs telling them that they’re not the home owners association. They’re the home moaners association.”

Ren shook his head, grinning ear to ear, “Genius. Well personally I think your- your build is one of the best on the server. It’s got some of the rarest materials that everybody else is too cowardly to get so you know, I think it’s awesome.”

“Right!” Martyn cried, in utter disbelief. He wasn’t crazy to believe that! That was exactly what he’d been thinking! How could no-one else see that? And of course it’s Ren, he thought miserably, of course we’re thinking the same thing, on the same level, as ever. Every interaction they had, Martyn was more and more furious that they weren’t soulmates. It was so obvious to him that they were meant for each other. Not Ren and BigB and certainly not him and Cleo. Neither of those relationships would last (not that he and Cleo were a thing in the first place). Martyn and Ren were so perfect together. It was easy, it made sense. Why couldn’t fate see that?

“They would never go to the nether for those things!” Martyn insisted and Ren shook his head, laughing incredulously, “No!”

“Oh jeez,” Ren winced. His hand dropped from around Martyn’s shoulder and he gripped his arm firmly for support as his knees buckled.

“Oh!” Martyn wrapped an arm supportively around his waist, lifting him back to his feet and glancing at him in concern, “How bad was that, are you good?”

“I’m good,” Ren mumbled, letting go of Martyn and taking a step back, clearing his throat to retain his dignity. It really hadn’t hurt that bad but something about that soul linked pain made him panic every time. “I’m still getting used to feeling pain…vicariously man it’s uh…”

“Yeah,” Martyn laughed awkwardly, glancing sheepishly down at the grass as if it had suddenly grown legs and started tap dancing. “I’m still not used to it myself either.” He met Ren’s eye and he cleared his throat again, turning back to the horizon. Neither of them were adjusted. And both were wondering if they’d adjust a little faster if it were each other they were in pain from. If the soul bounds stretching out between the two of them didn’t faze into transparency but instead into one another, connecting them through more than just their tendency to slip into each other’s arms.

Ren just continued off up the mountain instead and Martyn eventually followed, since Ren hadn’t said goodbye which probably meant he expected Martyn to trail after him like he always did. And because he needed a favour of Ren, since he seemed so on board with his build.

Just as they made it to the top of the mountain, Martyn hurried a little in front and turned back to stop him, placing a hand on his shoulder and leaning in conspiratorially, “Can you- can you help me out?” he asked before barraging on without waiting for an answer, “Can you go across the bridge that way, from…Scott’s base” he nodded with a gesture that was underwhelmingly half assed but Ren followed his hand, getting the picture, “And can you distract Cleo on the bridge whilst I go and put a home moaner association sign on the back of her base.”

Ren definitely brightened up at that, pulling his sword from its sheath and marching past Martyn, up the hill toward Scott’s house, “And can do that for you sir and so I shall!”

Though Martyn was a little concerned why he needed his sword, he grinned, elated with how unquestionably on-board he was, as ever. On his brain wave without needing an elaboration, an explanation, a soulbound.

Maybe there was more than fate that brought two people into each other’s orbit.

Ren lingered awkwardly at the edge of Cleo’s bridge until she noticed him, which took longer than he thought it would because she had her head in a chest, scrabbling through things and whistling cheerily to herself. They sighed as they shut the lid and regarded him with a smile that made no effort to hide the sheer lack of joy behind it, “Hi Ren.”

“Hi,” he said with the sing-song guilt of a man who knew he was wasting someone’s time. Come on, you can do better than that.

“How’re you doing Ren?” she sighed, putting her hands on her hips in a way that demanded an answer to more than just the question she’d asked. Why are you here? What’s going on? What’re you hiding? Man, they were good.

“I’m good!” He chirped, “What’s happening? Then a strict look from Cleo prompted more and he shrugged, adding, “I was just on my way back to the Box, I thought I’d say hello.”

“Right okay,” Cleo scoffed, clearly dubious.

Ren just grinned, aiming for chaotic gremlin without a thought in the world not nefarious scheming partner with her soulmate around the side of her house. Unfortunately, it was Cleo and they turned immediately, marching around the side of their house and forcing a tight-lipped smile at the reddened from running and utterly failing to not look mischievous face of their soulmate.

“Hi Martyn, can I help you?”

He straightened and forced a smile back at her, leaning against the wall with a nonchalant shrug to hide his sign, “I was trying to make my way around the relationship and I got hit by the creepers. I wanted to come and put you at ease.”

“Mhm.”

They weren’t buying it for a moment. Dear lord man, Ren found himself thinking, what have you done to piss this one off so bad. He exchanged a glance with Martyn who turned as if to walk away, somehow managing to tuck his sign somewhere so that even Ren who was looking for it couldn’t pick it. No small feat either, it was a sizeable sign.

At his appearance of leaving, Ren knew they were back on and made back toward the house, looking for something that would adequately distract Cleo, his eyes landing on a rather disgruntled looking animal in the corner, adorned with a saddle as if Cleo had been about to head off.

“Is this your moose?” he called, which combined with Martyn awaying into the forest, swayed her attention back to him, exasperated attention as it may be.

“I don’t have a moose,” they groaned, shaking their head at him.

“This is definitely a moose,” Ren insisted, gesturing exuberantly at it, stroking its matted fur. Cleo fixed him with a glare that would probably fry a mouse dead. Even Ren wavered under it. But Martyn had given him a task and he had to at least try to carry it through until the end.

“Leave Shmoobles alone,” she practically growled, the glare refusing to lift, if anything intensifying. Then there was a clatter outside and Cleo’s focused rage was disrupted by a level of sheer annoyance that terrified Ren. They trudged outside, every part of their posture from their gritted teeth to their stomping steps radiated their frustration. “Martyn! Stop!” she shouted, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him away from his completed sign, letting him stumble onto his ass in the grass, despite the pain racketing through her own backside. Because it was embarrassing and any excuse to wipe that cocky smirk right off Martyn’s face was good enough for her. “Stop! Stop! Stop!” Still they only had time to vaguely read ‘home owners association’ before Martyn was back on his feet, this time with his axe in hand, tearing down the sign. They pushed him into the wall, pressing his own axe against his throat because they weren’t carrying a weapon of their own. Ren lingered awkwardly, peering around the door, feeling oddly unsettled watching the soulmate-on-soulmate violence.

“I haven’t signed anything!” they spat at him and he tried to push back. Cleo was somewhat enjoying him squirming like the worm he was as he tried hopelessly to talk himself out of this one, “What do you mean you haven’t signed anything?”

“I haven’t signed anything,” they repeated furiously. It wasn’t that difficult to understand, surely. “I saw the words home owners association. Back off my build.”

“So are you saying my build’s not so bad. You don’t side with them?”

Cleo wanted to chop off his head right then and there. And it would serve Ren right to watch. When they’d told Martyn to collect Ren this is not what they’d meant. She’d hoped that he’d leave her alone if he was off chasing fairies with Ren. She hadn’t thought they’d turn around and gang up on her. But why hadn’t she? They were nothing but bad influences on each other. Not that there was such a thing as a good influence on Martyn.

Suddenly, Ren’s hand was on Cleo’s, gently prising it off Martyn’s and letting the axe swing back down to his side. Cleo let him, knowing all they were threatening to do was spectacularly kill themselves. Or probably fail to do so immediately through the pain and bleed out in the grass. It wasn’t much of a threat but they had a horrible feeling if they didn’t let Ren intervene they might just go through with it. And then what? Give Martyn leverage? Absolutely not.

“Cleo, I’ll- I’ll take care of this.”

They scoffed exasperatedly and took a step back, raising an eyebrow with unbelievable scepticism at him. But she didn’t have the effort to challenge the two of them, on anything right now. So she just flung up her hands in surrender and let Ren grab Martyn by the collar and drag him off into the forest yelling, “Martyn, get out of here. Get out of here dude.” While Martyn exclaimed and swore exuberantly, batting Ren away. He only stopped once he was sure they were out of earshot and Martyn still cried, “Ay!” at him. Ren shot him an apologetic smile as he let go, mumbling, “Dang it. I’m sorry Martyn I tried.” but Martyn just shook his head, “That’s alright. That didn’t go so well. We’ll get her next time.”

Then he gave Ren a nod he understood perfectly and he swiped at him as if to punch him, letting Martyn duck and flip him off before disappearing into the woods. So Ren could run back to Cleo without making an enemy.

Because he knew he’d always have a friend in Martyn.

Cleo foolishly thought they could go back to their peace and quiet as they watched Ren and Martyn leave, silently begrudging themself for driving the two of them back together.

Right menace, that pair. She could only be glad they weren’t soulmates. But maybe if they were, she could be properly linked up with Scott and she wouldn’t have to deal with Martyn, his bullshit and his weird platonic boyfriend.

Who was back, with a charming smile and an annoying air of impertinence about him. Like he was still trying to distract her from something. If Martyn was putting signs on their build again so help them gods.

“Sorry about that,” Ren sighed like he hadn’t had every part in it. “There was just you know some, some…”

“Ren!” Cleo glared at him, rolling their eyes as he kept talking and grinning and adjusting his hair, “Ren!”

“Early week shenanigans.”

“Go away!”

He hardly even faltered, just shrugged as he put up his hands in surrender and gave a well natured laugh. “Early week shenanigans!”

“Go away,” she insisted, scoffing at his ridiculous defence when it was clear he was just trying to help Martyn be an ass. “Early session shenanigans?”

Ren nodded fervently, “Nothing to worry about, yeah!”

“I’m not worried,” Cleo scoffed, their eyes getting a workout from all the rolling they were doing, “Believe it or not. You’re the ones that should be worried. Cause if you carry on…”

“What?” Ren laughed, hand already drifting to his sword as he leaned casually against the railing of the bridge, “What’s gonna happen?”

“I’m gonna have words.” She made a mental note that her own sword was still inside in a chest somewhere. If it came down to that…not that it could. Her dignity would be seriously endangered if she had to be afraid of Ren.

He was just incredulous because it wasn’t really that big a deal. And it was certainly high and mighty of her to play the victim when only yesterday she’d been…

“Wait a minute!” he cried, pushing himself off the railing with adequate theatrics and a steely glare, “Wait one dog gone minute. I-” he glanced over at Box, remembering that him and BigB were supposed to have this conversation together. But she was right here in front of him, he may as well. He couldn’t believe he’d gotten through the whole debacle with Martyn without remembering he had a damn good reason to need Cleo’s undivided attention. Maybe if he’d remembered that earlier he could have been of more help to Martyn. “My memory, has just come back to me!” he was shouting now and making no apologies for it, “You are responsible for some thievery.”

Cleo was silent for a few moments, just long enough for Ren to know she was lying when she frowned as if she didn’t understand a word he was saying and snapped, “What’re you talking about?”

“Yeah, you know what I’m talking about,” Ren tutted, shaking his head at her and gesturing furiously over at box. “I saw you! I saw you and your little friend coming over to box and stealing our stuff while,” he paused, half for dramatic effect and half to consider how to phrase it, “We were dead! Cleo.”

They broke their deadpan expression to raise an incredulous ‘you finished’ kind of eyebrow. “No, no, no, no, no, no. Pearl gave me stuff.”

Cleo and Scott had already worked out their lie, because they weren’t about making enemies so they may as well double down on the one enemy they’d already made. Their strategy, if it could be called that was essentially just ‘blame Pearl and everything will be fine’. And they knew with Ren it would work because he had firmly jumped on board the ‘Pearl is crazy’ train. Pearl had come back from Box fuming at Scott, because she was convinced it was his fault and Scott had gone fuming to Cleo because he needed someone to rant to.

“Pearl…” Ren mused before vehemently shaking his head, “She would never do such a thing, she’s lovely.”

Because despite everything, he did respect Pearl and he did believe her. Sure, she might come with darkness in her heart and accidently curse anything she touched. But she wouldn’t steal and then lie about it and blame people she cared about. Even if they were at odds.

He couldn’t say the same for Cleo. Who was staring at him in utter confusion and disbelief, “Didn’t you banish Pearl?”

Ren’s gaze fell to his feet and he rubbed the back of his head with a sigh, “I did yes.”

“I seem to remember something about banish her because she’s evil,” Cleo snapped and Ren vaguely wondered how she knew but figured it wasn’t entirely surprising that found its way back to her.

“She’s an evil witch,” he nodded, somewhat enjoying the utter bewilderment overwhelming Cleo as he continued to spew conjecture seemingly contradicting without context.

“And you’re telling me she wouldn’t give me stuff?” Cleo stared at him with an expression so done with his shit he didn’t dare defy it with a response. She sighed and tutted, turning away to sift through her chest

“Well I don’t actually really have anything,” her muffled voice came rather dejectedly as a pair of shoes flung over the lid onto the ground in front of Ren, “You can have these rubbish boots cos I’ve got better boots.”

“Ooh,” Ren grabbed them with a grin, appreciating the thick hardy material and the shimmer of magic across them only for a moment. “Hold on. Were these my boots?” he looked closer and was immediately repulsed by the stench of sweat soaked leather, ”These were my boots! I can smell them and they smell like my feet!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

As a line, it was getting old. She really needed something new. They both knew she was far too smart to pull off playing dumb. Ren had had it with the bullshit today already.

“I know what my… own… feet smell like!” He regretted the sentence as soon as it came out of his mouth but it was too late, Cleo already had wide eyes and a mocking grin.

“I mean, you know what, I bet you do.”

Joel was long gone by the time Etho woke up. He’d left their little nest of blankets and pillows down in the cabin of the ship, begrudgingly buzzing with energy and climbed up to the bow, sitting on the edge and watching the world as the sun rose over it. He fished his spyglass out of his pocket as figures began to pop up in the distance so he could…well so he could spy on them. That was why it was called a spy glass was it not? He spotted Grian and Scar, not bickering for once. Usually by now, they’d have had at least one fight that ended in someone storming off. Instead, they were huddled together as they made from the spikey fort to the panda reserve, smiling, laughing. It made Joel angry so he turned his attention elsewhere but the only other person his spyglass could find was Scott, sitting on his stupid porch, in his stupid green shirt. And that didn’t help his anger. Hopefully that shirt would be yellow soon. He somewhat wished he were red just so he could push him off the cliff.

Suddenly, there was a hand on Joel’s shoulder and he looked up to a smiling Etho who settled himself down next to him with a chipper, “Hello Joel,”

“Hello Etho,” he murmured in response, leaning his head cautiously on his soulmate’s shoulder. Etho didn’t seem to mind, swinging his legs and staring absent-mindedly into the ravine. “I don’t really have any plans today,” Joel announced, since no-one was saying anything and it was starting to drive him a little bit crazy. It was largely a lie. He did have plans; it was just that he didn’t want to phrase them like demands. Etho just nodded thoughtfully by way of a response so Joel barrelled on. “I was kinda hoping to get some better gear as I’m just still here in um iron armour.”

“I don’t know about you,” Etho nodded, gesturing back down toward the main part of the ship, “but I got stone tools at this point.”

Joel nodded, counting off on his fingers, “I have one iron pickaxe which you gave me and one iron axe which you gave me. and the rest are all stone so…yeah.”

Etho leant back on his hands, gazing up at the sky, the only direction they’d yet to find a world border. Joel wondered if he hated it as much as he did, that horrible boxed in, contained feeling of knowing just how finite the world was. Probably not. Though they were all trapped, Joel had never met anyone who felt as physically trapped as he did. His skin crawling just with the thought of the border, the limited air and water all churning back over itself because it had nowhere else to go.

“We have absolutely no iron left,” Etho’s voice broke through the horrible spiral of his thoughts and he stared for a moment, taken aback before scoffing a laugh, “Okay…right.”

Bdubs was fuming and Impulse didn’t know what to do about it. All of last night it’d been ‘stupid horse’ ‘I hate it’ ‘it’s so slow!’ ‘it’s beautiful though isn’t it? Impulse, it’s gorgeous, don’t be mean to the horse.’ ‘I’m glad Ren’s dead or I might have killed him myself!’

It was all his utterly bewildered soulmate could do to nod and agree and mutter, ‘oh yeah’ until Bdubs tired himself out with his rant and collapsed into bed, still glaring at the horse, tied up across the house. ‘stupid horse’.

Impulse had thought optimistically last night that the morning might have brought Bdubs peace. It hadn’t. His sleepy bubble was almost immediately broken by his soulmate’s foul mood practically radiating off him. He sat up straight in their bed, knees tucked to his chest and glare fixed on the horse.

Impulse just sighed; no energy left to deal with that. There were other, more pressing conversations he needed to have with his soulmate right now. Breakfast coaxed Bdubs out of his grudge a little, and he started talking animatedly about his plans to put in a pool for their mid-century modern house. He assured Impulse it wasn’t much work and talked him through the steps that all sounded like a lot of work to him, but he was more than happy to sit and listen to his husbands passionate ranting. There was much discussion of copper supply which segued perfectly into Impulse’s discussion about making back down into the deep dark. Bdubs didn’t seem to have a problem with it, eagerly handing off his armour to enchant.

“I am going to uh lay off the homewrecking for just a little bit,” Bdubs announced as they cleared their bowls away and went about their plans, Impulse packing for the deep dark as Bdubs took a stock of materials. Impulse was glad they were on the same page about that. He’d been meaning to bring it up but he didn’t want to shit on their grand plan. But no, both of them knew whatever the idea had been, wasn’t working. They’d made far more enemies than allies, not counting on how communicative everyone had been with their soulmates.

“I kinda feel like I was disciplined last time,” Bdubs sighed, remembering Cleo’s disappointment, her fury. Ride or die, he’d once told her. But they had died, both of them. Still, her words wouldn’t stop spiralling in his brain. I know we’re divorced now, and you’re with Impulse. Ride or die. He’d told Impulse the same thing. Until the end. He’d stayed true to his word for Cleo, until the end had come. Was his and Impulse’s love as short lived? It wouldn’t last past the season would it? He thought again of his sword in Impulse’s gut, the look of hurt and betrayal in his eyes. He wondered sickeningly if Impulse would betray him the moment he could. If what seemed so beautiful now would be over the second their soul bind broke and Impulse could stick a sword in his gut. He cleared his throat, trying to clear his mind of the horrible thoughts and wishing they’d shake as easily as the paranoia stuck in his throat. “And um. I learned my lesson.” He wished that were true. “So yeah.”

“Yeah,” Impulse nodded, his hand absent-mindedly finding Bdubs’ shoulder as he moved past him to grab his sword, lying idle in its sheath in the corner.

Bdubs nodded furiously, tearing his eyes off his hands clutching tightly to his copper to force a smile at his husband, “I’ll try to repair that- that damage.”

“Okay,” Impulse flashed him a cheery grin as he slung his pack over his shoulders, “That would be good. Good luck with that!” He laughed and Bdubs just gave him a tired look. He held out his arms and Bdubs wasted no time in sinking into them, sighing against his soulmates rising, falling chest, a gentle calm washing over him. Everything was okay, really. He was just getting all up in his own head. Impulse was perfect and he was being paranoid. And in his soulmate’s arms, he could almost believe it.

Pearl was having one hell of a week. But then again, when wasn’t she? So far this season, every week had been one hell of a week. She felt an odd sort of grief for the careless fun she’d had that first week. Just her and Martyn running about the world before Scott and Cleo ruined everything. Not that Martyn hadn’t also left her. She had to keep reminding herself she couldn’t trust him either.

She honestly wasn’t sure who she could trust anymore. Not Scott or Cleo certainly. Apparently not Ren and BigB either. She didn’t honestly know where she stood with Scar. Jimmy and Tango had been okay with her when last she’d spoken to them but with Scott spreading rumours (whether they were true or not) the way he was, she didn’t know.

She had plans of her own today, figuring it was time to put hope of alliances and friends and things in the past. She was on her own. She had to accept that much. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t be happy, couldn’t have a life of her own. And today, she wanted to go to the deep dark. She wanted to enchant and more importantly, she wanted to raid the ancient city. There could be lots of valuables there and well, only one way to find out. She figured no-one else would dare, but she’d grown something of a reckless abandon to her own lives. Because they were Scott’s as well, or perhaps just because they weren’t really anyone else’s because Scott didn’t care. She wasn’t looking out for anyone else, and she’d never really had the effort or energy to look out for herself.

So, to the deep dark it was. One tiny drawback, she actually didn’t have the faintest clue where it was. Thankfully, other people did, having been there last week. And one of those people, was her neighbour. That, as far as she knew, didn’t hate her. They seemed good people to have on side, didn’t they? Living close to her and all. They were the only people likely to attack her for miles around so, yeah. She’d like to be friends with Bdubs and Impulse, if they’d have her. But she’d wanted to be friends with BigB and Ren, so she didn’t know.

She made it to Bdubs and Impulse’s wonderful modern house around midmorning and they waved her inside. Impulse looked packed ready to head off somewhere but they both beckoned her inside, smiling enthusiastically, though there was some concern hidden in their glances that Pearl couldn’t quite work out. She vaguely noted that they were wearing each other's clothes and decided she didn't like that. It made both of them look wrong.

After a brief exchange of niceties, their nervousness seemed to reach a bursting point.

“We should come clean,” Impulse muttered with another concerned glance over at Bdubs who nodded solemnly.

“Yes.”

Pearl frowned, glancing frantically between the two of them and lingering at the doorway. She was no longer sure whether she wanted to go further in. “Come clean about what?”

“We lied,” Bdubs sighed before sneaking a glance at Impulse and amending, “I lied to you” He put a hand gently on his soulmate’s arm and nodded to Pearl, “She came up while you were in the deep dark and I lied” he turned back to Pearl while she tried desperately to recall a conversation, she’d had with Bdubs. Everything had been such a blur recently , “And I said that your teammate was talking about you, and it was a lie.”

Oh yeah, that’s right. He’d told her Scott had been talking shit about her. She didn’t give a rats ass if that was a lie really. She was just glad they didn’t hate her. But maybe if she had leverage, this friendship could work more in her favour. Besides, it was funny watching him get all ashamed and apologetic.

She gasped, the glint of a smirk still alive in her eyes, “Bdubs.”

“And I’m sorry,” he quickly assured her, eyes fixed.

“I mean, to be honest, I mean…” she shrugged and slumped into a chair at their kitchen table, “if that was intended to drive a wedge between Scott and I…” she laughed, but anger and frustration tinged into her tone, “it’s fine. It’s already well apart at this point.”

It wasn’t even a lie, what Bdubs had said, even if he’d intended it to be. Scott had been going around to everyone telling them she was crazy and unhinged and not to be trusted. Scar had told her, which she’d appreciated, though the offhanded way he’d mentioned it had bothered her.

“I know. There was already a wedge there.” Bdubs nodded, kicking himself thinking about Cleo again, the obvious blunder he’d made, not thinking about his conversation with Pearl.

Pearl just nodded thoughtfully, watching Bdubs stare at the ground as if it were a window to the void and Impulse ladle soup into a bowl.

“Peace offering,” he held out the bowl with a tentative smile, pushing it across the table toward Pearl. Bdubs thought as peace offerings went, it wasn’t great, but Pearl’s eyes lit up like it was the biggest stack of diamonds they could have offered.

“Soup?!” she took it enthusiastically and Impulse slid her a spoon, she immediately tucked in, stopping only occasionally to breathe. Bdubs raised a perplexed eyebrow at Impulse who just shrugged knowingly. Pearl hadn’t been eating great. Her farm wasn’t producing enough food, and she was mostly living off steak from Jimmy and Tango that was running low. Most of the time, she wasn’t bothered to cook it for herself anyway and just fed Tilly the raw meat instead. She definitely wasn’t bothered to prepare a delicious soup simmering over a fire in a pot so big it could only be accurately described as a cauldron. She wondered how many meals it got the two of them through. Surely, they’d get sick of soup eventually. When the bowl was polished off and she’d caught her breath, she wiped her mouth and flashed an appreciative smile at Impulse who returned it with a reassuring one, kind, genuine. Bdubs was lucky. Everyone was bloody lucky.

“I actually came over to see…” she mumbled, sitting up a little straighter and fixing her gaze on Impulse, “Do you guys know where the entrance to the deep dark is by any chance?”

“Yes!” Impulse gestured to his pack, abandoned on the floor, “Uh I was just about to go there myself.” He bounded over to it, slinging it over his shoulder, “I can, I can show you the way!”

He was grinning at Pearl, and it was making her heart feel so full, she couldn’t stop smiling too.

“Really?” she jumped up, grabbing her things as well, “Oh okay, perfect!”

Impulse kissed Bdubs goodbye and the two of them hurried outside. Pearl couldn’t believe how stupidly excited she was to have company. Scott couldn’t ruin everything for her. She could still find friends.

Jimmy woke up shivering, a chilling breeze blowing through the charred remains of the ranch and the floor hard against his head. He pulled himself up, stretching out his aching bones and stared around, a wave of despair washing over him. “Oh, look at the ranch,” he mumbled, catching sight of Tango, staring into a struggling fire, sobbing softly. Thankfully, they still had a grate, though the smoke just sort of floated into the air without a roof or a chimney.

Jimmy crawled across the floor to his soulmate and shuffled in beside him by the fire, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close. There was a sombre silence between the two of them for a moment because Tango couldn’t bring himself to speak and Jimmy didn’t know what to say.

“Are you- are you still angry?” he asked eventually, too aware of how horribly cautious his tone was and immediately wishing he could take it back.

“It’s all gone,” Tango cried, shaking his head and clutching Jimmy’s shirt a little tighter. It didn’t really answer his question, “It’s all gone, Jimmy.”

“It’s…” he looked around as if he might see some shred of hope, not just creaking remnants, the shell of a house and the smoky ash-thick air. “It is. It’s all gone.”

He couldn’t muster positivity right now but he could tell Tango was still angry, still bursting and burning up with that fierce energy so he would have to settle for resigned. If not positive at least accepting. The ranch had burned down. There was nothing they could do about that now, they just had to try to move forward.

“We’re gonna have to take this down.”

Tango squeezed his eyes closed and nodded reluctantly, “We do. We do.”

“We’ve still got the animals!” Jimmy offered, with the last of his capacity for spotting silver linings. Tango said nothing so he nudged him a little, offering a reassuring smile, “Which is good.”

Tango fixed him with a sceptical look that very quickly faded into a sad smile when he noticed his hopelessness reflected in his soulmate’s eyes, “Some, some.”

“Some,” Jimmy gave a conceding head tilt and Tango couldn’t help but smile. He’d always thought Jimmy’s optimism was mindless. That it came from a lack of moments like this. It was only in that moment he realised he’d been wrong. Jimmy’s optimism persisted in the face of hopelessness. It was despite moments like this, perhaps even because of them.

He felt an unstoppable surge of love and respect for the man beside him, so steadfast in his determination, so much better than him in the way he was able to feel things all the time and somehow still not be consumed by them. Still keep his head held high and his goals in mind, still keep pushing through.

He wrapped his arms around his soulmate and gently kissed his cheek. Jimmy gave him a questioning look and he sighed, realising he never actually answered his question.

“I’ve had time,” he began as he untangled himself from Jimmy and sat up straight, running a hand calmingly through his hair. He forced his voice to be steady so Jimmy would believe he was in a fit state to enact their revenge, “I’ve had time to reflect on the events that uh that transpired and uh,” he was all too aware of the concern in his soulmate’s face, his hesitance, not quite disbelief but distrust in his words, certainly. “I’ve- I’ve calmed my rage,” he assured him and Jimmy nodded, urging him to continued, “And well, I’ve devised a plan.”

“Right,” Jimmy stood and stretched, making for one of their few undamaged chests and sifting through it. He pulled out a loaf of bread, an apple and a knife and crossed back to sit cross legged next to Tango, “Tell me the plan.”

He quietly cut the food while Tango began, a grin creeping across his face at the prospect of getting payback. “Well I was thinking you know,” he shrugged, “Maybe they need a visitor.” Jimmy glanced up at him with a frown but he couldn’t stop grinning, “A certain visitor to visit their new little base over there what do you think?”

“Us?” Jimmy’s frown shifted back down to the apple, not quite as cautious anymore “Us visiting?”

“No, no.” Tango laughed, realising he’d been so caught up in his own thoughts he’d utterly failed to communicate them, “no, no, no, no, no, no. A visitor uh a visitor that lives, you know…” he glanced down at the floor and cleared his throat before raising his eyebrows at his soulmate, “Much- much deeper. Down below.”

“Wait,” Jimmy paused, staring at him with a genuine terror plastered all over his face, “You don’t mean the…”

Tango nodded slowly, grinning at Jimmy with a truly sinister look in his eye. It equally attracted and unsettled him.

“No, no…” he laughed, earnestly disbelieving, “You don’t mean the…”

“Yes I do!” Tango beamed, nodding exuberantly now, any pretence of calm out the window. His rage may be more collected but it certainly wasn’t calmed, “Yes I do!”

“Wah- how!” Jimmy cried, grinning just because Tango’s energy was infectious in its unsettled glee, “How does that even work?”

“We’re makin it happen!” Tango assured him with a genuinely manic grin, “I have very uh very scientific plans laid out we’re gonna make it happen. There’s gonna be tunnels and waterways and elevators and uh..." he zoned out, gazing at the crumbling wall across from him, "Mhm.”

“Right I don’t wanna..” Jimmy let Tango stew in the plan, quietly continuing cutting. He didn’t know what to think. He’d wanted a vengeance, hadn’t he? Well, this was it. A terrifyingly ingenious revenge, courtesy of his soulmate, under his instruction to take time and consider, think things through. Jimmy had suggested this, this far more devious plot than just burning Scar’s pandas to the ground. So, could he really now turn around and be concerned? He certainly couldn’t shut down the idea, no matter how much it terrified him. “I don’t…right.” Tango had been mad at him for risking his yellow life by going to the deep dark. Now he wanted to purposefully summon the Warden? Bring it to the surface, at that! Jimmy was utterly sure that if he got anywhere near a Warden, he’d be dead. He trusted Tango a lot more. “You organise this.” He settled for agreeing, not helping. Being complacent, not responsible. “When it’s ready to rock and roll, you come get me.”

Tango seemed caught in his own thoughts but at least nodded at the wall, “Yeah, yeah.”

Jimmy put a few pieces of apple and bread into his hands which seemed to grab his attention again and he gave an appreciative smile.

“While you’re doing that,” he began, getting up again with a gesture out at the ranch, “Um imma raise the walls in here.”

“A little more defence,” Tango nodded approvingly, “A little more anti Scar”

Jimmy hummed and then turned his gaze to the charred ranch, “And then take down-” he sighed and Tango hung his head with a groan, “Take down this.”

“And then take down the ranch.”

Chapter Text

"Why hello there Martyn!" Scar called eagerly to his first customer as he swaggered cheerily toward the entrance of the panda reserve, where a rather confused Martyn was peering in with a frown.

He laughed at Scar's insistence on that greeting of his, turning to address him with a similar, "Hello!" out of some obligation to fit the set tone, "Is it ready?" he gushed, almost conspiratorially, gesturing into the reserve.

He was mostly coming to the panda reserve because he had nothing better to do. But he had promised Scar he'd check it out and the last thing he wanted after what happened yesterday was Scar as an enemy. And speaking of, the pandas probably wouldn't be alive much longer given Tango's rage so he may as well check them out while he could. But besides all that, he could genuinely use some downtime. And though Martyn wasn't entirely sure he believed him, Scar had promised him a relaxing experience and he could certainly use a calm moment to collect his thoughts.

If Martyn thought Scar couldn't be any brighter he was swiftly proven wrong as Scar's grin widened and he nodded exuberantly, “It is!”

“Oh my goodness!” Martyn was only somewhat feigning his excitement, “What’s the admission fee?”

Scar laughed as if it were the most preposterous concept in the world that he might be trying to profit. 

“The admission free is love,” he pressed a hand to his heart in almost satirical gesture. Martyn perked up a bit, because he came largely empty handed but certainly full hearted. Not that anyone had ever described Martyn as such. Save Perhaps Ren and that would probably have been as a joke.

“Oh I come with buckets of that,” he prattled anyway, if only as a segue to his moaning, “because somebody isn’t accepting mine so this works out perfectly.”

Scar immediately gasped, clutching his hand back to his heart in shock horror. Martyn couldn’t tell if he was badly feigning obliviousness or just being Scar.

“Oh really?” he took a step closer with an inclining and sympathetic head tilt, “What is this? Tell me more Martyn, fill me in.”

Martyn was honestly shocked he didn’t already know the way gossip spread usually.

“I’m-“ he sighed almost immediately, not knowing how to phrase it. “I’m at odds with my…soulmate.”

Scar gave him another one of those infuriating head tilts. He was glad though because he could really use an interested party to rant to.

“So in the first week,” he began and Scar nodded encouragingly, “I went to the nether, tried to get all the most powerful and you know preservative items that I possibly could to provide for my partner…”

“Yeah!” Scar was still nodding and seemed on board, “Of course!”

How come was it that every time he told someone about this, they understood instantly but Cleo just couldn’t grasp it. Or didn’t care. “And, she was just wholly upset that I didn’t come looking for her straight away.”

Scar gasped, and not like he had before, a sort of ironic perhaps exaggerated exclamation. But because he was honestly a little taken aback. See! See, Grian, I’m not mad! He wasn’t the only one who had priorities other than his soulmate. It wasn’t unreasonable. Or was it? Because Cleo was angry too. But she didn’t need to be! Martyn still had her best interests in mind. Maybe- maybe if he just told her that, she would understand. Maybe if she could understand, Grian could. Maybe he could facilitate both understandings.

It was a stab in the dark but he was willing to take it.

“Why would I turn up empty handed?” Martyn was still ranting, “She sees it as me being negligent but I see it as being…” he paused a moment, searching for the right word and Scar hung onto every second of silence.

“Cautious.” He finished with a self satisfied nod.

“This is…” Scar shook his head, forcing the gate open and half-dragging Martyn through it into the reserve, “You know what Martyn? This is a tragedy. You slip right in here you- you get in here, you enjoy the pandas.” His words came a mile a minute as his plan came faster in his brain. He was already fumbling with the gate again, tapping the chest with his cane, “Free bamboo in this chest right here.” He slammed the gate behind him and turned back to his customer with a wink and a charming smile, “I will be right back, Martyn.”

Martyn just stood there in utter confusion as scar turned and began bounding off away from his own house.

“Oh my word,” he muttered.

“This cannot stand!” Scar yelled back and Martyn just shook his head in bewilderment and turned back to the death bed pandas.

Scar had already made his decision. He was going to use the panda reserve to rekindle some love.

“Cleo!!” He stood on the edge of her bridge, half-leant over the railing. He wasn’t sure what she was doing, building some cool platforms across to Martyn’s house that looked like they were floating in mid-air.

“Hi Scar,” they sighed, setting down their things on the platform and hopping back over to the land, regarding him on the bridge with a sweet but guarded smile. “How you doing?”

“Good,” he mused, hardly acknowledging his assent as he made his way to her and placed a gentle but guiding hand on their arm, “May I, take you away from your work here for just a moment Cleo, just a moment of your time.” She shook her arm out of his hold and gave him a disapproving glare. “Just a moment?” Scar nodded, which seemed to reassure her enough to agree, nodding a hardly affirming, “Okay.” But didn’t in any way relax her posture or her watchful eye on Scar.

“Okay Cleo, this way!” he cheered, gesturing off down the path  beginning to carve itself through the grass from everyone's footsteps treading it down. There were lots of those weaving their way between people's bases. This particular one went most of the way from Cleo’s bridge to Joel and Etho’s far more underwhelming one. He probably could have taken them over hers come to think of it but they’d already set off now.

“This way!” Cleo echoed, “Okay, okay.” She a little too begrudging to keep up with his brisk pace but he refused to slow down, far too giddy with excitement. His only hope for the panda reserve had been that it would offer other people as much peace as it had for him, not that it could bring people back together, rekindle love. Now he was starting to see it's full potential. They walked in silence for a bit, aside from the effort of their laboured breathing given the brisk pace. Scar was silently praying Martyn hadn’t left. That would be far too underwhelming an anti-climax. Cleo eventually broke the silence with a hefty sigh, stopping in their tracks. Scar turned around and she fixed him with a questioning stare and a very out of pocket, “Am I gonna die?”

Scar spent a split-second wondering how he should know. He wasn’t a fortune teller. Was she gonna die? Sure, they were all gonna die! Then he realised she meant today, right now, following him and tutted, “Oh! No, no, nono, no, no, nooo!”

Cleo raised an eyebrow at him as he finished his round of no’s and chuckled, “no, Cleo!’ he beamed, gesturing across Joel and Etho’s pathetic bridge. “I’m gonna take you to the uh- the panda reserve.”

“That’s still a thing,” Cleo balked, looking genuinely taken aback “They’re not dead.”

Scar frowned, glancing over tat the ranch, fear rising in a clump in his throat. My neighbour is uh heated. He swallowed the panic and forced a smile at Cleo, “No of course not!”

I’m not scared of Tango, he told himself firmly, repeating it until it almost didn’t feel like a like. My pandas will be fine.

Cleo was regretting her choice to follow Scar a little bit even as she watched the panda reserve appear on the hill. She had to hand it to him, credit where credit was due, it looked great. An arched entrance of dark wood rather roughly cobbled together and vines weaving up the walls, a promise of a wonderfully overgrown look if it ever got the chance. Which, Cleo thought darkly, it probably wouldn’t. Tango was gonna burn it to kingdom come any day now. She was shocked he hadn't yesterday but probably today, maybe tomorrow if he was gonna blow it up or something even more elaborate. Definitely within the week.

“Once you go inside here Cleo,” Scar began the spiel as he aggressively beckoned her in, “All your stresses in the world will melt away in this beautiful retreat of tranquillity!”

And it was nice! There was a big tree in the middle he'd probably built it around surrounded by a vibrant floor of grass and sprawling roots patterned with moss. Baby trees, bushes and little ponds were scattered around. It had a certain tranquillity to it, for sure. Still, there was one problem that had Cleo lingering at the gate. The panda reserve was full of pandas.

And Cleo really hated pandas. Something about their little faces that always looked vaguely concerned and their deceptively slow demeanour, was just off-putting to them. So they weren't as at ease as Scar clearly wanted them to be.

“Just step right in here, step right in here! Yeah look at this place,” he continued in that voice of his, all cheery and intoned like a salesman that made Cleo immediately assume she was in danger, ‘Beautiful, beautiful,” in a way that suggested all the beauty was actually hiding a terrible secret, “yeah come up here,” as he ushered her up the slight hill, “Look at all the pandas…” this wasn’t about the pandas was it?”

And there it was. The other shoe she’d been waiting for, dressed in his staple bright green again and cooing at the pandas. Scar stood dead in his tracks, gasping this was all too surprising and tyring to ignore the withering glare he was getting from Cleo.

“Oh my gosh, there’s Martyn. Wow, okay!’ he hurried off down the hill again, leaving the two of them staring at each other with absolutely nothing to say.

“Alright you lovebirds,” Scar called over his shoulder, the speed of his words not slowed once since they’d arrived, “You just, enjoy your time!”

Cleo gave a sigh so hefty it made Martyn feel like he was burdening them by simply existing and muttered, in the most tired voice imaginable, “Hello Martyn.”

‘Hello!” he aimed for a cheery foil to her frustration but just ended up sounding stupid and pathetic.

Scar paced around the outside and pressed his ear to the other side of the wall, grinning to himself as their conversation unfolded. Though admittedly, there wasn’t much conversation just yet, he was sure there would be. And they'd realise they'd been unfair to one another and beautifully reunite.

“I’m feeling very put upon at this point,” Cleo sighed, folding their arms and fixing him with their best scowl. They were so sick of Martyn, of having to deal with his bullshit.

“I…” he frowned, and then it quickly turned  to exasperation. “I didn’t do this,” he gestured around with a laugh and then folded his arms, shrugging into a more guarded posture. Cleo vaguely wondered if that were because of them then decided they didn’t have the time or energy for such guesswork. “I’ll be honest with you,” their soulmate continued ranting, “I just confided in Scar and- and he went about it himself.”

Cleo just groaned, leaning their head back against the mangrove tree in the centre, and letting Martyn stew in his own feelings, think whatever he wanted. They considered just leaving, just straight up walking out. Leaving Martyn to his bullshit and denying Scar whatever beautiful reunion he’d blindly wanted for them. But they’d meant to reach out to Martyn today, hadn’t they? Surely this was the perfect opportunity to start building the metaphorical bridges.

“Look, I’ve got a question for you,” Martyn began in a way that stirred a little bit of fear in Cleo. That tone from Martyn was never a good thing. Though they hated his unseriousness, they hated his over-seriousness more when it made it’s rare appearance. But they really didn’t have the energy to be anxiously anticipating so they just sighed and nodded, “Uhuh?”

“Um, would you like your gear enchanted?”

They were actually, pleasantly surprised for once. It was a gesture of sorts, perhaps even a sign that he cared. She wouldn’t go as far as to call it considerate given that acts of service didn’t mean as much to her as they clearly did to Martyn. Even in his kindness, he was still being selfish and blind to the needs of the actual person in front of him. But he was trying, right?

“I, I do but not…” they groaned, trying to clear their thoughts. The last thing they wanted was Martyn going to the deep dark, again. But they did want their armour enchanted and if they could get a sword as well… “Come back to my base,” she offered, pushing herself off the tree and putting a steering hand on Martyn’s shoulder as the two of them headed toward the entrance. “Come back to my base, I’m- I’ve gotta show you something."

Martyn didn’t know how to feel about that so he just muttered, “Okay,” and followed dutifully. It seemed like a step in the right direction at least, even if he had no idea what they’d need to show him. Was this them trying to make amends? They’d never really answered his question about the deep dark, which was him trying to make amends so, clearly it was dubious still.

“This is wonderful,” Scar cooed, suddenly at the gate, barring their exit, “Now on the way out, would you mind uh leaving a donation. Now we are a non-profit here so anything that you choose to uh donate to the panda reserve is much appreciated to keep the lives of these beautiful, beautiful, majestic creatures happy and healthy.” He tapped his cane against the chest with the bamboo and flashed them a pre-emptively appreciative smile that might have succeeding in making anyone else feel guilty. Martyn and Cleo were both far too exasperated and guardedly selfish for that. They were survivors, after all.

“Which are very finite, let’s be honest,” Martyn laughed and Cleo joined in, exchanging a darkly humoured glance as Scar rubbed his face exasperatedly.

“Yeah this is gonna, this is gonna burn,” Cleo scoffed.

“Tango’s gonna torch this place to the ground.”

“I’m tryna get ahead of it!” Scar exclaimed frustratedly, dragging his hands down his face and settling them back on his cane, forcing a smile. “Tryna get ahead of it.”

Neither of them really knew what that meant. Scar just stared in forlorn understanding at his beautiful reserve. He knew Tango wanted revenge but that didn’t mean he had to just give up, like Martyn and Cleo clearly expected him to. He’d talk things through, he’d explain, make a trade. There were still ways to save his beautiful pandas.

"I'll tell you what," Martyn laughed. He unhooked a bucket from his belt and sunk it into one of the ponds before carrying it back to Scar, dumping it at his feet and spilling it all over his own sleeves. “I’ll donate you a water bucket cos you’re definitely gonna need one.”

Scar just nodded, smiling between the two of them. He looked positively queasy.

“BigB my main man,” Ren’s voice echoed down to BigB and he grinned, even though his heart leapt with silent terror he refused to acknowledge. It was probably just excitement presenting itself as nerves, or some combination of the two from his anticipation of Ren's reaction to his surprise.

“Where you at man?” Ren called and he suddenly panicked, because he’d gotten so distracted by Grian’s gift, he hadn’t finished getting the surprise ready.

“Ren!” he called carefully “I am…”

“Hey!” he sounded so enthusiastic it made BigB’s heart twang again with what might have been love but felt a love more like guilt.

“Dude!” he forced his voice to match his soulmate’s cheery tone, packing down his panic and tapping into the excitement eager to replace it. “I got a surprise for you.”

Ren froze in the doorway, his grin creeping into a smirk as he dropped his things and kicked the door shut behind him. “Ooh you do?”

“Yeah, you’re gonna like it,” BigB grinned, his nervousness fading slightly at Ren’s careless enthusiasm. “You gotta close your eyes though for just a split second.”

“Okay. Dude, I’ve been fishin,” Ren was rambling above as BigB grabbed the finishing touch of his outfit from the chest, letting the mangrove wood box fall right to the bottom, abandoned. He only wished he could slam a lid on his wandering thoughts the same way.

“I got a ridiculous amount of salmon. Cos all of our food got yoinked yesterday.”

BigB faltered for a moment, remembering they still had yet to confront Cleo and Scott. He'd honestly forgotten about that, with everything that had happened in the last twelve hours.

“Also!” he heard Ren's footsteps on the stairs and glanced around for some way to dramatically reveal his outfit. “I had a word with Cleo who denies everything!”

He made it to the bottom of the staircase and BigB was still just standing there. He didn’t seem to notice him though, chucking a pair of boots on the stone floor and cheering, “Look what I got!”

Then he was gone again, disappearing up the stairs.

BigB just stood there, staring at the shoes and blinking incredulously. “Dude,” he muttered before raising his voice to yell up at Ren, “Wow, wow, wow. Get back here! What’s goin on?”

Ren moved so fast, caught up in the whirlwind of his own thoughts. He'd just dump all that and leave without another word.

“Wait what?” his footsteps clattered down the stairs again, “What’s happenin?”

BigB frowned at the man in front of him, a vision in yellow, “What’re you wearin?”

The two of them stared at each other, Ren was overwhelmed with excitement but BigB was apprehensive, realising Ren was dressing to suit the colour of their soul bind between them, all yellow patterned shirt and matching sunglasses.

“Ohhh,” he laughed, before the implications of their lost life hit him and he frowned, “Oh.”

“Dude you look amazing!” Ren exclaimed, eyes flicking up and down BigB, taking in every inch of the outfit. His jumper split down the middle to match Ren's overshirt, a pair of sunglasses and a headband with little dog ears attached. A surprise, for him.

It was ridiculously cute.

“Dude do you not see this?” BigB mocked, honestly surprised Ren hadn’t enveloped him in a massive hug by now. “This is all for you?”

Which was enough to unfreeze Ren and he threw himself at his soulmate, wrapping him tightly in a hug and squeezing until he laughed and pushed him away.

“Oh you’ve got ears too!” Ren beamed, “Oh my!” he pulled BigB into the hug again, “That is- this is the best day. This is the best day.” Ren was nodding exuberantly, practically twitching with excitement. “I love it. I love it.” He paused, inclining his head, conceding, “Too bad the glasses are the wrong colour though.

“Yeahh, I know,” BigB tried to ignore his faltering, wondering how he’d managed to do something wrong despite his effort.

“We gotta go full yellow,” Ren laughed and BigB forced a smile though this disappointment. Ren was only joking, after all. His entire existence was just a series of unfollowable bits  He tried to hang onto his soulmate’s smile as he turned back toward the stairs. But he just couldn’t shake his growing doubt. Especially when he’d been planning for days to look more like his soulmate and he’d come back looking like the one person BigB couldn't seem to get out of his head, the one person everyone insisted Ren was still obsessed with. It wasn’t the best feeling in the world. He hadn’t been sure whether or not to mention it at first. But now he knew he had to. He to at least bring the conversation up. If only to gauge Ren’s reaction.

“I’m getting Martyn vibes though,” he said, in the most off-handed possible way. “What’s going on there?”

Ren turned with a confused look at first then glanced down at his outfit and grimaced. “That’s true. That is true,” he nodded gravelly, “I am starting to look like Martyn a little bit yeah…” he trailed off, frowning at the floor.

It wasn’t exactly the response BigB wanted. Maybe a ‘no! why would I look like Martyn? Or ‘dude! I didn’t mean to, that’s crazy.’ Not just a sort of unsurprised defeat that he was inevitably starting to drift back toward Martyn.

“You look amazing though dude I love it!”

But BigB wasn’t listening anymore. He was too busy falling down rabbit holes in his mind. It wasn’t the response he wanted, but it was so undeniably the response he expected. It didn’t really surprise him that Ren looked like Martyn, or that he just quietly accepted that he did. Why should he be surprised when everyone he’d spoken to had told him those two would never get over each other, when he’d seen their obsession in practice for the past two seasons?

“I love it so much,” Ren was still rambling, “That's so cool.”

“Look me in my eyes and tell me you’re not leaving me.” BigB snapped, stepping further into Ren's space so that their eyes were mere inches away from one another and fixed him with a witheringly sceptical expression.

Ren frowned for a moment, searching his soulmate's gaze as if he might find clarity in the suspicious arch of his eyebrows.

Leaving him? What, for Martyn? That was ridiculous, really? Just because Martyn and Ren had history, didn’t mean they were rushing back together. Right?

Sure, he- well he felt a certain way about Martyn. He probably always would. He'd accepted that at this point. But they weren’t soulmates. Whatever they’d had was in the past now. Ren loved BigB and that mattered more than whatever simmering feelings he couldn’t seem to shake toward Martyn. He was happy where he was, with who he was with.

“Dude I’m going nowhere!” he declared avidly but BigB couldn't help but notice his gaze darting to the floor, “I’m going absolutely nowhere man.” he closed the gap between the two of them and took BigB’s hand, ‘I’m here. I’m here to the end!”

BigB smiled though his heart was still doing somersaults.

“BigB and Ren, to the end baby!” Ren punched the air triumphantly then turned back to his grinning soulmate with a wink and a shrug, “It even rhymes. Somewhat.”

BigB sighed and nodded with a smile that he hoped was enough for Ren and accepted the hug his soulmate swept him into, slightly more sombre than the last but no less enthusiastic. Still, he couldn't shake the doubt worming it's way into his mind. And maybe he was imagining it, maybe it was a trick of the light. But for a moment, before Ren let him go and swept away upstairs, beckoning him to follow, he could have sworn he saw a little golden hair on Ren's shoulder.

Scar couldn’t help the nervousness building as he fed the pandas. He’d been trying to push down the turmoil building in his chest since his conversation with Martyn yesterday. But since Cleo echoed the same concerns today…he couldn’t keep ignoring it forever. Tango wanted revenge. He had a plan but it was…dicey, at best. He couldn't trade his way out of every situation. He could damn well try! But maybe it was time to consider a back up plan should his charm and promise of great gifts and friendship fall short.

He made out of the reserve with a far heavier heart than he usually did. The pandas calming presence didn’t particularly calm him when he was fearing for their safety. He was almost immediately startled, his heavy heart leaping and a yelp escaping before his brain could catch up that the dark eyes staring at him from the doorway were his soulmates. Who was now leaning against the doorway, doubled over with laughing. The sight of his face so cheerful and carefree, actually happy for once. It actually made Scar’s heart a little lighter.

He hurried forward, grinning and calling out, “Good news!”

“Okay yeah,” Grian hummed, scoffing a laugh as Scar practically jumped onto him with a hug. “What is it?”

Scar rested his head on his shoulder and wrapped his arm around his waist. He froze under his touch at first but after a second shrugged.

“I rekindled love,” he muttered.

Grian hummed, shrugging Scar off and moving to sit on the steps up to the little balcony wrapping around what he was affectionately calling ‘the spikey cake’ But he had been looking for a new name. 'I need a pun for our base that's as good as the relation-ship.' He'd been insisting to Scar only that morning.

“Martyn and Cleo have been separated from the beginning because of Martyn’s poor choices in the nether,” Scar begun, making his way back to Grian, slumping down beside him and wrapping an arm around his shoulder, gesturing out in front of him, painting a picture, “But I thought with the panda reserve and the beauty of the pandas and the love they give you…”

“Yeah?” Grian got up again and moved back inside. Scar sat there for only the shortest of seconds, staring after him, a million thoughts rushing through his brain very quickly. He decided he never wanted to play chess with Grian, because he'd just unravelled him in two moves. Once was a coincidence, he could have moved for any number of reasons so Scar had followed him. Twice was a pattern and Grian had shrugged out of his theatrics again. It left Scar with the sour conviction that Grian didn't want to be near him. His stomach twisted in turmoil. That was new. Wasn’t it? He’d been sleeping beside him for weeks now! But the story was slipping away from him in his second of doubt. He leapt up and followed Grian inside, deciding not that he didn't care, but that he couldn't. Not right now or he'd get confused, overwhelmed and angry and start saying things he didn't mean. So he swallowed his doubt and resolved to think it through later in the tranquillity of the panda reserve. And with little more than a pause for breath, he continued.

“I brought them secretly both together here and now,” he leaned across the chest with a pointed grin that made the corner’s of Grian’s mouth twitch up, even if his eyes were deadened and fixed on the floor.

“They’re gonna go on an adventure.”

Grian gave him an indulging nod as he scrabbled through his chests.

“I have rekindled love.’

“Oh I’m glad that the whole panda-” Grian paused, his eyes locking onto Scar like he’d only just noticed him. “Heyyyy,” his voice softened, his hint of a smile widening into a grin, “You look like a ranger!”

He did actually appreciate Scar’s endless commitment to whatever he had going on. Even if the thing itself were infuriatingly unhelpful. And the outfit looked good on him. It was probably better than him running around shirtless. It was definitely better than the horrifying panda soulmate situation he had going on before. He vaguely grappled with the implications that Scar must have un-soulbinded himself from the pandas and that meant, that meant he saw Grian as his soulmate, didn’t it? he wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Given he was actively taking steps back from the two of them, it made him more than a little uncomfortable to know his soulmate was actively taking steps back toward him.

“Ooh I like that,” Scar grinned, striking a ridiculous pose that made Grian snort with laughter, ‘Ranger! Ooh that sounds nice, I like that, I like that.”

Grian shook his head and smiled to himself, going to move away when Scar grabbed his hand and pulled him back toward the door. “Did you see the panda reserve?” he asked with a grin. Grian sighed and though he shook his hand out of his hold, he obliged to follow him, because honestly, he kind of wanted to. He wanted to see the outcome of all the time Scar had wasted. Wanted to ensure he’d at least done something. Besides that, it seemed to make his soulmate happy and something about Scar’s simple, pure joy healed his miserable mindset just momentarily.

He opened the gate and theatrically gestured into the foliage announcing, “Hope on inside!” Like a train conductor.

Grian wandered in and immediately, his heart sank to his stomach. Scar followed him, bouncing every step of the way.

“Ohhh there’s so many pandas,” Grian gasped, staring around him, open mouthed in shock, “More than I was ever- I – you know one, maybe, was enough.”

There must have been twenty odd, shuffling about, eating, playing, being ridiculous amongst the greenery.

“You feel a little less stressed when you come in here, right?” Scar cheered from behind him, as he marauded further in, the buzzing of insects and wind through leaves surrounding him. The sounds of the forest usually incited fear in him, of what was lurking right beneath the pretty exterior. But now, with the reassuring safety net of light nestled in the corners and a border blocking out the world, there was an odd comfort. He laughed at the absurdity of Scar’s creation. “Strangely I do!”

“Here!” Scar appeared behind him, shoving bamboo into his hands and winking at him, “Give it a go, give it a go! Feed em up.”

He frowned around him at the peaceful beautiful reserve of nature and pandas and he just couldn’t fathom how it was Scar.

“What’s-” he turned around to raise an eyebrow at his beaming soulmate, “What’s the plan here?”

Scar shrugged, his gaze still fixed endearing on the pandas. Grian tried to ignore the part of his brain bitterly reminiscing about when Scar used to look at him like that. “Oh just rekindling love and nothing-“ he glanced up at Grian and his smile saddened somewhat, “nothing too serious.”

“Just saving soulmates,” Grian reflected his sad smile, “That’s what you do.”

That’s what he was trying to do, he realised suddenly, for them. By unbinding himself from the pandas, by inviting him into the reserve and talking about rekindling love. This was him reaching out, probably trying to get Grian to talk about it. But he couldn’t possibly understand how the words overwhelmed his brain until he just couldn’t speak any of them. He was trying to save them, to scrape the pieces off the floor and put them back together again. But he clearly didn't realise what an impossible challenge he was taking on. How should he? After all, he wasn’t there when they shattered.

So Grian just made towards his pensive smile, watching hope crease his eyes into a somehow even sadder shape. He tipped toward on his toes and wrapped his arms around Scar, offering him the only reassurance he could think of. He considered saying something, a whisper of an apology in his ear. Just anything to let him know the way his heart was aching.

Instead, he just pressed a kiss to his cheek and dropped his face into his neck, scrunching up his eyes against his tears. Scar pulled him closer, taking a deep breath and forcing his own disappointment down.

“By the way,” He struggled out, forcing his tone to be cheery, “I came up with a name for the- for your amazing castle.”

Grian gulped down his tears and took a steadying breath, unwinding himself from Scar and swinging back onto his heels, forcing a steely expression.

“So you know how it looks like a cake?”

He smiled a little as his eyes flicked to the fort. Yes. Definitely, undeniably a cake. And Scar did not shy away from saying so. “yeah?”

He put a hand on Grian's shoulder and gestured dramatically at it, “The red velvet keep.”

“Oooh,” Grian nodded thoughtfully, staring at the building because he couldn’t dare meet Scar’s eye, “I actually kinda like that.”

Then he shrugged Scar’s hand off his shoulder and made off out of the reserve without another word, just a small smile over his shoulder that Scar returned more out of instinct than any genuine consolation.

Because he’d left Scar there again, with far more questions than answers. Meek temporary consolation that really meant nothing to him. He couldn’t help wondering why Cleo could understand but Grian couldn’t. Why the other two talked and Grian just gave him sad smiles and tutted and shook his head.

Was he really just that hard to understand, to talk to, to love?

“What Scar actually interrupted me doing,” Cleo mumbled bitterly as she and Martyn arrived at her house and the construction of her mystical looking bridge came into view. She somewhat liked the way it looked like it was floating. The way you had to jump from one platform to the other. There was something symbolic about the fact that it took a lot of effort to get across. “Was me trying to kind of...meet you halfway.”

“Oh wow!” Martyn actually looked a little taken aback as he jumped out onto the first platform. He turned back to give her that cocky grin that made her want to punch him in the face instead of building bridges. But she was trying. And trying really hard not to stop trying. Despite Martyn’s best efforts.

“So,” they sighed, “This is what I’m working on um and um…you know.”

He was still grinning like that. All victoriously. As if she’d been being really silly and had finally come round.

“I mean you’ve got to put in some of the work Martyn,” she assured him, following him to the first platform and aggressively crossing her arms at him, “because so far, you’re accountability levels of what has happened, and I’ll say- I’ll say this now!” because he’d folded his arms right back and furrowed his brow and they could already see his excuses boiling on his lips.

“I am sorry that I misjudged you very harshly in the first week,” She assured him, softening her frown a little, self-consciously reminding herself she was trying to make amends. “But! You have taken zero accountability since then.”

“Doing what?” Martyn laughed again, jumping to the next platform with a grin over his shoulder. Cleo scrunched up their fists. “I’ve not been dangerous since then!” he threw his hands up in surrender that was really a furious defence. A refusal to surrender his pride for the sake of her. Over and over again. “All I’ve been doing is building my heart!” he gestured over at the blob.

“No, no, no, no, no,” she shook her head, eyes sweeping over the horrific heart, wondering how he could possibly make it better, or worse, which was probably his aim. She followed him to the second platform, though her legs felt like lead. He wasn’t listening. He wasn’t understanding. Just because they’d apologised for what happened in the first week, didn’t mean they were saying it was all their fault. “But for-” she sighed, watching his eyebrows slowly knit together in confusion. He really, really didn’t understand the problem, did he?

“Look if I’m- if I tell you what to apologise for, it’s not a real apology Martyn.” They folded their arms and raised an eyebrow at him. He just laughed; his entire posture as bewildered as his knotted eyebrows now.

“You’re gonna have to,” he scoffed, “I ain’t got…”

“That’s not how it works!” Cleo threw their hands up exasperatedly, pacing to the end of the platform, tempted to scream into the ravine.

“I ain’t got a clue what I’ve done wrong.” Martyn laughed again, how was he still laughing? What was actually wrong with him?

Cleo just stopped in their tracks and pressed their eyes closed, laughing in utter exasperation and bewilderment.

“I have absolutely no clue,” Martyn continued, his grin still audible in his words, but upon Cleo’s stony silence, he fell quiet.

A few moments passed between them, then he spoke again, his voice a little more serious, thankfully.

“I can only laugh,” he muttered, “Cos I just- I genuinely, I’m absolutely clueless.”

Cleo hated that they could relate to that sentiment, that it was exactly how they were feeling. That was where they were at. The whole situation too overwhelming to do anything but laugh so exasperatedly it bordered on silent sobbing.

“In the second week,” he mused, “What did I do? I just built a heart I-”

“Oh not the second week!” Cleo shook their head, tears of frustration genuinely springing to their eyes, “We’re still, we’re still in issues from the first week!”

“You just said you forgive me for misjudging me for the first week!” Martyn cried, his confusion making Cleo want to punch him again, she was running out of ways to force herself to calm.

“No, no, no.” She shook her head for what felt like the hundredth time, holding up a finger to shut Martyn up, “I say I’m sorry I misjudged you harshly, that doesn’t mean you don’t owe an apology.”

For a moment, she thought he’d take the hint, take the perfect opportunity she'd handed to him on a silver platter. But no. This was Martyn. And she was insulting his pride. So instead, he just scoffed, waving an apathetic hand as if to wipe away the idea.

“Nah it was fine. We had porkchops the whole time. You had nothing to worry about.”

Cleo actually wanted to jump into the ravine. Seriously? Absolute ass. Absolute, utter ass. Why was she even trying when he kept showing her that he wasn’t prepared to take even the slightest hint of accountability.

She gave a hefty sigh that was almost a groan, utterly giving up in that moment. She turned and made back toward the first platform, back toward her house and her comfortable little life without him. She turned around just to give him a withering look.

“This is why you’re alone Martyn.”

Martyn took a step back, glowering. He tried to pretend that didn’t hurt, but it did. Like a stab to the heart. He didn’t know what she wanted from him. He wasn’t wrong and he wasn’t about to lie for the sake of their pride. What were they saying they misjudged him for if she still wanted an apology for something? He wasn’t doing anything wrong! Was he? He didn’t think so but he also couldn’t argue with the fact that he was alone. There was no denying that and hearing Cleo say that she knew why. That whatever she wanted from him could magically solve that and he didn’t, couldn’t understand  it. It hurt more than he cared to admit.

So instead of admitting that, because gods forbid he give Cleo leverage, he jumped to the defence.

“Look,” he scoffed, taking a step back toward her, “I’ve been pulling my weight. I’ll even- I tell you what I’d even go to ancient city and sort your enchantments for you by way of apology so you don’t even have to risk going down there.”

Cleo was still just staring as if she couldn’t believe his nerve.

Martyn didn’t understand why. She wanted an apology and he was giving her a compensation. Surely that was better?

Cleo was furious. He was such an ass! How was he still not thinking?

That was the way Martyn wanted to make it up to her. That was easy for him. He’d already been to the ancient city! It wasn’t a problem for him but he phrased it like some noble sacrifice. But Cleo wasn’t going to fall for his bullshit. He couldn’t just brave face and blood on his knuckles his way out of this one. Maybe gestures like that had worked with Mumbo or Ren but they wouldn’t work with her. She needed accountability, vulnerability, communication. Not just a brush it off ‘nah we were fine, let me rush off into danger for you’ kind of guy. Why did Martyn think she gravitated towards Scott?

“You know,” They sighed, trying to figure out how to phrase her concerns that wouldn’t just make Martyn think of her as an ungrateful bitch. “No, no, no, no, no.” she shook her head, a laugh bubbling in her throat again but quickly turning into a sob as she cried, “You don’t even have to do that. All you have to do is say ‘I’m sorry for abandoning you on the first day’.

Martyn hummed, turning away and shook his head into the ravine, staring down at the turning, rushing water because he didn’t want Cleo to see him rolling his eyes. She was still on that? Really? How could she not see that he hadn't abandoned her? That he was doing what was best for both of them in the long run. 

“That’s it!” she insisted, “That’s it, that’s all you have to do!”

Martyn just rolled his eyes again, staring at the water crashing into the rocky bank down below, the grass swaying in the wind, the stars twinkling confidently in the dark sky. Really anything but Cleo. He said nothing, petulantly ignoring her. He could practically feel their frustration boiling. She groaned, throwing her hands up and tugging at her hair, “Why’re you like this Martyn!” she screamed, “Look, I’m here! I’m trying meet you halfway.” They paused, staring him down as he slowly turned. “Come on!”

He frowned down at the bridge and then nodded up at her, “I’ll- I’ll go build-” he sighed, gesturing into the distance, “I’ll go build a couple blocks out.”

Cleo glared at him and he finally lifted his chin up and met their gaze. He was confident to meet it know that he'd made up his mind. They wanted him to put some effort in so he would. Fine. He'd build the bridge. Wasn't that what this was all about? A visual representation? So why was she still glaring then?

There were a few moments of silence between them, both so frustrated with the other they couldn’t possibly think of a single thing to say that wouldn’t make everything worse.

“All it takes is an apology Martyn,” she sighed, dejection numbing her exasperation, “Just- that’s all it takes!”

He just shook his head, that cocky grin making a stunning return, “You’re not getting one. You’re not getting one!” he laughed, shaking his head, “We both know you’re not getting one.”

Cleo didn’t even have the energy to argue anymore. “Yeah,” they sighed, “I know.”

But that was his problem. If he didn't want to give her an apology, fine. But he had to stop blaming her for their siutuation. She'd tried and he'd been a selfish jerk about it. There was nothing more she could do. They turned away exasperatedly, taking a deep breath of air that didn’t smell like Martyn before turning back. They  watched him, standing there right on the edge, swinging on his heels like the audacious asshole he undoubtably was. She couldn’t stop the horribly intrusive thought that she could just push him off the platform right now.

“Ohh it’s so temping,” she scoffed out a laugh, miming pushing him, half just to get him to widen his eyes and step back towards safety. She turned away with a laugh and hopped back to the land, muttering, “I can’t- I can’t do this to myself.”

If Martyn dies, you die. If Martyn dies, you die.

It was a harder concept to get in her head than she thought it would be.

“Ooh,” Martyn turned around glancing down into the water again with a crooked grin, filling with excitement. “Oh to be honest that is, that is risky territory.”

He sounded far too giddy about that for Cleo’s comfort. Void, she hoped he didn’t jump. If it didn’t kill him, she might do it herself.

“Yeah that’s why I couldn’t do it,” Cleo laughed, beginning to pack away their construction things. They’d wait until Martyn started building to do anymore. “I nearly did.”

The giddy excitement in Martyn’s chest wasn’t going away and he couldn’t help the grin. He tilted his head slightly to the right, trying to gauge the drop. If, hypothetically, hypothetically someone was pushed off the edge. If they were pushed with enough momentum…they’d land in the water wouldn’t they?

“I tell you what,” he called to Cleo who glanced up apprehensively, “Have you ever looked at this shadow of my base.”

They made their way toward him with a sigh, raising an eyebrow at the river.

“That’s almost more poignant than the base itself, look at that!” He did a quick calculation as to where they’d fall and took a steady step back, humming and masking his grin.

“Yeah, that’s really cute.” Cleo cooed and Martyn snuck one last glance before he acted. He never could shake an idea once he’d got it in his head. And he pushed her as hard as he could, laughing as she screamed.

Cleo felt Martyn’s hands against them, the rough shove of force and then they were falling, screaming, full of furious anger. The wind rushed past them, stinging at their skin. The pit of their stomach dropped and refused to settle itself. She flinched every second of the way as she was overwhelmed by the speed of the fall. They were suddenly very aware that they were not going to make it into the water. 

“Oh shit!” they screamed right before the ground crashed into them and their whole body exploded with pain, overwhelming their entire brain until there were no thoughts beyond the burning stinging throbbing, the stars swimming in her vision and the bubbling of the river only a meter from her body.

Martyn’s yell echoed into the air as he crashed to his knees, the harsh stone of the platform scraping against his skin, feeling the same horrific pain, hearing Cleo’s screams fade as he lay, head lolling off the platform, surrounded in the haze of his pain, her pain. Then there was another throb in his chest and he knew, as he watched the soul bind slowly fade in front of him, that Cleo was dead and he wasn’t far behind.

"By the way, by the way." Scar ranted at Grian who hummed disinterestedly from where he was leaning against a pillar only a few meters away from where Scar was farming, sifting through his things. "At some point, this is gonna get dicey. People are gonna start throwing..."

He was cut off by Grian gasping loudly and his head flicked up in instinctual concern. His soulmate was staring in shock at his communicator.

"What happened?" Scar hurried toward him, peering over his shoulder. He almost immediately felt sick to his stomach.

"Uhhh, Scar?" Grian glanced up at him in mock concern that actually just looked darkly entertained, "Did you just rekindle that love? and they... died."

Scar clutched a hand to his mouth all the same, eyes widening as they met his soulmate's.

"Do you think I'm responsible?

Cleo coughed and spluttered as they sat bolt upright, their head spinning and chest burning with the effort of breath after the momentary respite from such manual labours. For a moment, they were painfully aware of the extent of their body, down to the last hair and and chipped nail. Then the slightly surreal feeling of taking form again faded and they were left with only the heat of their blankets, piled up on top of them and the burning hot rage Martyn had left in their chest.

They scrambled out off bed, still fully clothed and stomped to the door, flinging it open and hurrying toward the ravine, practically throwing themself down the hill. “You absolute buffoon!” they were yelling, though they weren’t at all sure if Martyn could hear them and it was more for the sake of an outlet for their own anger.

“You absolute! Endless! Motherfucker!”

Half their stuff was strewn across the hill, where the remnants of their own blood staining the grass made them feel slightly queasy, but a few unlucky things had ended up in the river, presumably fallen out of their pockets and things when they died. They made for them first, diving into the freezing river, the rush of cold water stinging their bones, not nearly as invigorating as falling to their death and certainly not close to payback for Martyn.

“What is wrong with you?!” they screamed at the sky as they came up for breath, as though Martyn might hear. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

They managed to scavenge most of their items from the riverbed and shoved them into their pockets as they clambered up onto the bank, squeezing the water out of their hair and clothes.

“What happened?” Scott’s voice echoed from above and Cleo sighed, reassured that at least somebody cared about them.

“Martyn knocked me off the edge and I hit the f- hit the thing.” They made up to the blood-stained grass to collect the rest of their things, grinding a footstep into the mud every step of the way. They were furious, beyond furious. They were so fuming they were surprised there wasn’t actually steam coming out their ears.

“He knocked you off the edge?” Scott’s sounded incredulous but at this point, Cleo wasn’t even. Not even surprised. Not even calm enough to grace Martyn with that. This was predictable and probably inevitable. They’d been a fool to think they could meet him halfway, clearly.

“Yep!” they yelled back, more exasperated than anything. Just annoyed, just frustrated, just fuming. Not surprised.

“If I could kill him I would,” Scott didn’t miss a beat, and his tone left no room for doubt.

“I know,” Cleo sighed, in utter defeat, eternally grateful for Scott. “I was trying to…reach out.”

It seemed a fanciful concept now. And they certainly weren’t in the headspace to consider where they went from here. Just not in any direction towards one another if he was going to do stupid things like that. They scrounged about the hill, picking at their things. They weren’t sure how much of it was Martyn's that had somehow fell off the platform and how much was theirs. At this point, they didn’t care that much. He could spend time regearing and maybe think things through a little more. He definitely had something to apologise for now didn't he.

Scott tried to help, but it was dark and things were disappearing into the grass. While she tried to find where her sword had fallen in the grass, she was attacked by a baby drowned, clawing at her leg and yelped, scrambling back onto the bank and fumbling about for something to fight it with.

“Oh and now I’m gonna die,” they groaned, “because it’s night, and I’m-” they sighed, in equal parts relief and frustration as an almighty splash in the river distracted the drowned and Scott burst up from the water, sword in hand and began aptly killing them as Cleo scrabbled about in the grass.

She didn’t want Scott to have to risk his life in the middle of the night and the freezing cold for her but she was silently glad he would.

“No you’re fine,” he assured her with a smile, pushing between her and the drowned and beating it back into the water, “Move away from the child!” he joked, which coaxed a weak laugh out of Cleo. But any shred of comedic relief was quickly dampened by Martyn’s appearance in the river, pushing his sopping curls out of his face with the most sheepish expression Cleo had ever seen him wear.

“Um, Martyn!” Scott exclaimed, regarding him with sickly sweet enthusiasm.

“So!” Cleo barked, with no time for Scott’s nuance right now. No energy for being civil or insinuating, “So Martyn!”

He put his hands up in surrender as he waded toward the bank, which might have had more impact if he weren’t laughing in exasperation, grinning sheepishly. Perhaps if he was actually taking it seriously, even now that they were dead! Void, Cleo couldn’t stand him. They actually couldn’t fucking stand him.

“I’m so sorry,” he insisted shaking his head and making the sopping curls fall back into his eyes, “It was meant to be a meme, I just wanted to scare you, I didn’t think that would happen!”

He clambered onto the bank and glanced about in the grass. What little had been there Cleo had already collected. Most of his things were still up on the platform where he’d died. Cleo vaguely wondered if there’d be blood up there too. It was a ridiculously impertinent thought really given everything that was going on but they didn’t want to have to scrub blood off their platform. Not that they gave a shit about building bridges anymore.

They just stood there, arms folded, glaring Martyn down as he finally met her eye. His guard was, by all measures still firmly in place, face creased with his ceaseless grin but lips pressed tightly together and eyes slightly downcast, a twinge of guilt pricking at the edges. Five minutes ago, that might have been enough. Right now, they wanted to punch him.

Scott put a hand on her arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze, regaling Martyn with a properly withering glare, “You have ruined any chance of being with her as her soulmate.” he shook his head and while Cleo hated such a negative outlook, they couldn’t help but agree. Martyn had well and truly gone and fucked this up. “You have lost every opportunity here.”

Martyn shot Scott a glare that clearly said 'butt out'. He opened his mouth probably to echo the sentiment but Cleo yelled over his potential cruel words with their own.

“What is wrong with you?” she yelled again because she realised he never heard her the first time and absolutely needed to.

“I honestly, I gauged it,” he stumbled over his words and pulled frustratedly at his hair which only made Cleo more angry because she was feeling every sharp sting of that pain but did at least reassure her he was upset about this as well, “I did the math in my head but, clearly I missed the one. Carried the zero too far.”

Even now, Cleo thought bitterly. Her wish to punch him right in his stupid smiling face not going away, even now, he was still joking, still laughing. Like his life was expendable for the bit. Like hers was. She just sighed, she had absolutely no words for him right now. Not a single one.

He at least had the decency to look ashamed as he muttered, “I’m genuinely really sorry.”

This, was not how they wanted his apology. And certainly not what they’d wanted it for. But at least now they knew he was capable of realising something was his fault, just being intentionally belligerent. Actually, they weren't sure if that was better or worse.

“Oh, over here Cleo,” Scott called from where he was halfway up the hill, holding up their sword. They rolled their eyes away from Martyn and trudged up after Scott, leaving him standing there, knee deep in the river, feeling like shit about himself. Which as far as Cleo was concerned, he deserved to. They were both well aware of what the other was thinking. It was what made Martyn feel like shit and Cleo feel vindicated and both of them unbelievably frustrated.

“That was-” he insisted as he followed her trudging up the hill, “That was not at all…”

He was so out of his head, not thinking properly. Perhaps he was still shaken up from dying or perhaps it was just the fiercely united front of collected rage that was Cleo and Scott making him feel intimidated.

Cleo just sighed and muttered “Goodness sake.”

Their words carried an air of finality that made Martyn shut up. He didn’t want to make things worse at this point, though he feared he already had. He’d let them calm down a bit and bring it up again when they were ready to talk. Otherwise things could spiral out of hand and then where would they be?

When they arrived at the top, Martyn almost immediately went over the bridge and collected his things while Scott squeezed Cleo’s hand with a reassuring smile. She didn’t really want to have to talk to Martyn, but she knew from Scott’s sigh and Martyn’s expectant expression as he returned that she had to.

“Right well,” Scott shot a glare at Martyn who returned it, his clear hatred of Scott’s involvement in Cleo’s life as apparent as ever. Even though Scott was saying, “I’m going to leave you two to have your squabble.”

Martyn just couldn’t be on board with Scott, no matter how hard he tried. Which currently wasn’t at all. He didn’t believe Cleo that everything had been their idea for a moment. Not when Scott seemed to take so much joy in watching horrible things happen to Martyn and especially not when he had his hand on Cleo’s shoulder like that, demanding their gaze and attention, smiling in a way that made Martyn feel ill.

“Come to me when you’re done Cleo.”

It was a quiet promise that he’d be there. That they’d talk this through. That even though he was leaving, she wasn’t in this alone. It meant the world to her.

Martyn just felt even more nauseous, wondering if Scott could be any more textbook manipulative and controlling if he tried.

“Okay,” Cleo murmured and Martyn actually wanted to punch Scott in the face she sounded so dejected. Not understanding Cleo’s frustrated apathy was absolutely nothing to do with Scott.

She turned back to him as Scott headed off over the bridge. She stared at him for a while, trying to collect her thoughts enough to start the conversation. Scott was well out of earshot by the time she announced, “You absolute buffoon.”

“I know.” Martyn just sighed another laugh, rubbing his face like he might scrub off the shame of dying as utterly stupidly as that. “I’m disappointed in myself.”  He met Cleo’s eye and for a moment, he thought there was something kind there. Maybe not forgiveness but at least pity. “We’re both survivors,” he echoed her words, as if it might appease her. Just because something about it had stuck with him. Perhaps because it was the most apt description of the two of them he'd ever heard or just because it gave them something that connected them to cling to against the current of their differences. “I never genuinely thought that would happen.” As way of an explanation and certainly an apology because he’d already said sorry too many times today.

Cleo was quiet for a few moments, staring at him in bewilderment and then shook their head and stared up at the sky, as if silently praying for some god to give them strength. Then they took a deep calming breath and exhaled it in a hefty sigh. Martyn watched in apprehension through all of this, the wind whistling through the grass around them, the river rushing down below. Finally Cleo spoke, and it didn’t give Martyn any peace of mind.

“I’m keeping your horn.”

She’d pulled it out of her pocket and turned it restlessly in her hand. Martyn shrugged. If that were to be their consolation prize, he was more than okay with that.

“That’s- that’s fine.” He shook his head, adjusting the way he’d been leaning on his sword because it had dug too far into the dirt and he was starting to look like an idiot. “Honestly,” he shrugged with an apathetic gesture, “they’re overrated.”

“I know.” It was a statement more than anything to respond to, a shutdown of any kind of conversation. She was done. It was evident in everything from her stilted tone to her folded arms and refusal to meet his gaze, already staring across the bridge at Scott, “I agree but dear gods!”

She stalked past him off to her bridge, not even gracing him with a goodbye, let alone an evaluation of where they stood or what she expected from him at this point. He’s said sorry, was that enough? Evidently not if the way she was storming off toward Scott was any indicator. He had told her to come talk when she was done. Was she done? Was that it? He wiped the mud off his sword onto his trousers and slid it into the sheath at his belt, suddenly feeling very out of place. He didn’t call after Cleo and before he knew it, they were over on the other side of the ravine with Scott’s arm around their shoulder, shaking their head. Clearly, talking about him.

And he was just standing in a field, on his own, with his soul bind glinting yellow in front of him. Well shit.

So he just left. Or he figured he must have, though he didn't remember it particularly distinctly.

He didn't really realise he was going home until he was there. He really wasn't sure how he ended up on the floor but he was comfortable. So comfortable that moving felt like a betrayal to the way he was sitting. He just stared at the grains in the wooden floor, his breath coming in intervals of short frantic puffs and laboured breaths so slow and gradual he wondered if he was breathing at all. A headache slowly formed, pushing at his temples and he hardly noticed it. His mouth was dry and his thoughts spiralling, ending up in all the shadowy corners he usually kept locked away. His eyes unfocused on the grains eventually, a blur of brown and red his only vision as flashes of the past hour came back to him with waves of adjoining emotion. The gleaming excitement as he pushed her. The jolt of fear at the hurt in her eyes, the soaring rushing terror of her falling, the regret, the shame. The sight of blood down below through Cleo’s splayed curls.

His house crashed back into him, pale moonlight drifting through the window, making him feel unbelievably small and cold wind rising goosebumps across his legs. But all the emotions drained away and he felt truly numb, unsettlingly empty. The moon was shining at a brilliant angle through his other window. He must have been sitting there hours. He clambered woozily to his feet and grabbed his coat, shrugging it on and grabbing his pack from the floor. He’d meant to leave Scar’s and head to Impulse’s and Bdubs’ for food before heading into the deep dark. Now he was alone, and the night was dark and quiet, pressing in on him, containing him into his little bubble in his house, threatening him with sleep and nightmares and no-one left to rescue him.

He didn’t care. He knew Cleo would have issues, he knew they’d take offence. But whatever. If they didn’t want to communicate what they needed to him, he’d do what he needed. And right now, he needed to not be alone on his floor, thinking. The deep dark seemed the perfect distraction. So he gathered the last of what was left of his things and shoved them into his pack then set off for Bdubs and Impulse’s.

Hoping the night was nearly over and he'd live to see the day.

The day continued and BigB didn't mention Grian, or the grain, or Martyn. Bdubs stopped by to rant about his horse at Ren who appeased him with an iron ingot (BigB was once again baffled by how much Ren could do with open arms and a charming smile) and the two of them made plans around farming their cows a little more actively as they cooked up Ren's fish. Eventually, they began making plans about going back down to the deep dark. Supposedly, there was an iron vein near the enchanter which they were both fairly interested in.

BigB watched Ren as he ranted, throwing his hands about and grinning between bursts of jovial laughter. He couldn't partake in his shenanigans right now. He couldn't find the concentration when his mind kept wandering back to that mangrove wood box stowed away in his chest. The mind he still hadn't made up, the lies he was telling his soulmate by saying absolutely nothing. It was around mid-morning when he finally couldn’t put up with the restless panic building a whole in his chest any longer.

“Ren, I have a secret to tell you and it’s hurtin my heart!” he blurted out, immediately wincing as Ren turned around, staring at him with a face of such immediate concern he couldn’t bear it.

“I just can’t hide it any longer.” He murmured, staring at the floor. He couldn’t bear to look his soulmate in the eye.

“A secret?”

“It’s been- it’s been killin me!” BigB cried, glancing up at Ren with an expression so pained it made him falter. There was no bogeyman! What could he possibly have to be so secretive about?

“Wait a minute,” he frowned, taking his soulmate’s hand and staring at him until he was forced to meet his gaze. “What secret?”

“I have…”

“You’re not doin this to me again are you?” Ren cried, and if he weren’t wearing sunglasses, BigB reckoned he would have seen tears at his eyes, his whole face creased in hurt.

He wasn't entirely sure why but this felt all too familiar. Everything had been okay this season. Everything had been great! He'd had the most trouble free few weeks he'd ever had in these games. Just him and BigB, thinking nothing could get in the way because how could it? There wasn't a bogeyman to tear apart their alliance like it had so horrifically last time. But this, secret. BigB feeling so terrible. 

It was a horrible thought, but Ren didn't want to be the next Cleo.

“Wait, wait what?” BigB took a step back, letting Ren’s hand slip away. What did he mean? BigB hadn’t done anything to him in the past, certainly not anything like this. He’d been nothing but kind to him. Surely he didn’t begrudge him for what happened with Cleo? How could he still hold distrust over that when BigB had completely gotten over Ren’s part in his murder? “What am I doing?” he frowned as Ren’s face darkened and he started shaking his head staring at the floor. “No, no, no, listen.” He insisted. He knew the mood, recognised the darkness brewing in his soulmate’s gaze. He’d seen it many a time long before he was his soulmate. He reached for his hand but it snapped out of his, pushing his arms away and in a swift move, slamming him into the wall. BigB winced, keeping his gaze locked on Ren’s eyes as his darted back and forth. “No, no,” he insisted again, placing gentle hands on his soulmate’s arms and pushing him away carefully, “Listen.”

Ren's eyes suddenly locked onto his and he took a step away. BigB let out his breath. He hadn’t realised he was holding it but he wasn’t entirely surprised.

“Sorry!” Ren shook his head, eyes suddenly wide with concern as guilt flooded his brain. Oh void, what was he doing? BigB was trying to have a conversation and he was just casually going mad. He wished more than anything to take back the last thirty seconds. BigB tried to force a reassuring smile but he felt it faltering.

“I’m…” he closed his eyes, shoving his sunglasses into his hair and rubbing his eyes. “Okay.”

BigB didn’t believe that for a moment but he nodded, taking a few steps toward Ren and wrapping an arm around his shoulder, pulling him into a hug that Ren quickly pulled out of, shaking his head. He frowned at BigB, jaw jutted forward with a less than subtle attempt not to cry and he’d put several steps between the two of them. Still, his posture seemed to calm.

“Talk to me.”

“Alright,” BigB nodded and before he knew it he was pacing back and forth, staring at the floor and gesturing as he went, “So…I’m not saying who, they didn’t leave their name. But…” he glanced up at Ren and sighed, “Someone left me a note in here and they are my secret admirer.” He turned to the wall and sighed, shaking his head.

Ren just frowned, feeling vaguely like he’d missed something. A secret admirer. So somebody had a thing for his soulmate, whatever right? He wasn’t worried about that but the way BigB seemed to have such a big problem was worrying him that maybe he should. Why should that be a secret that was hurting his heart? He could have told Ren that offhandedly and he’d have barely thought anything of it. Okay, that was a lie. He would have stressed and been paranoid. But this hadn’t made it any better. If anything keeping it a secret, for any time at all, had made it much worse.

“Okay,” he mumbled after a few moments, still quite unsure as he watched BigB’s guilt. Was he just that good a person that he thought this was a moral failing of some sort. It was entirely possible. Either way, he couldn’t bear how upset his soulmate looked so he made over to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and lifting his chin up to look him in the eye, “Well that’s okay,” he smiled calmly, “that’s window-shopping man. They can look; they can’t touch! You know?” He shrugged, “It’s fine! I have no problem with that.”

He’d expected BigB to smile, seem reassured. Instead he just stared at Ren’s hand in his own, biting his cheek. Then he glanced up at him with an even more concerned expression, “Do you wanna know what they said?”

Ren stared, suddenly wondering where this note was and who had sent it and all the things his mind hadn’t even gotten time to catch up to yet. He honestly wasn’t sure he did want to know but assuredly reminded himself it was better than being in the dark.

“Sure.”

Be stared at the floor again and took a deep breath. “They said…get yourself someone,” his gaze met Ren’s again and his heart leapt, “That doesn’t die. By an Enderman.”

“WHAT!” BigB turned away again and Ren unwrapped his arms from him so he could throw them exasperatedly in the air in defence, pacing right to the other side of the room. He made to the window, staring out at the world, trying to direct his angry energy into the trees instead of back into box at the man he cared about. “WHO would say-”

BigB made across the room to comfort him as Ren whipped around and he took an almost instinctive step backward. Ren faltered, letting his shoulders slump a little. He really needed to calm down, he wasn’t helping this situation with his jumpy anger.

“Okay,” he sighed, “That’s just rude to start with. Endermen are extremely dangerous and difficult to fight, okay?” he knew he was yelling again but he couldn’t seem to help it. He was offended, after all. Not because it was unfair, not really. He’d failed BigB and it wasn’t entirely surprising that someone would use that as a ploy to lure him away. And he was embarrassed, really fucking ashamed that he’d been so ridiculous, so careless and incompetent. And BigB had to deal with the consequences.

“That is true,” BigB murmured, nodding gravely. Which only made Ren feel more guilty because he couldn’t bear BigB agreeing with him on something that was clearly a lie just because he was being aggressive and loud about it.

“Uhh…and- and the- okay.” He didn’t know how to claw his way back to being reasonable. How to explain himself. He turned back to the window and stared dejectedly out at the forest, taking deep breaths trying to  make his emotions steady themselves. “I’m upset now,” he shook his head back at BigB who offered a sympathetic nod. “Cos they’ve- they’ve gone personally for my- my skills. They’ve gone for my skills.” He leant frustratedly against the wall, dragging his hands down his face and trying to calm down for what felt like the hundredth time this morning. “Not my looks, not my age, my skills. And that’s a low blow dude.”

“Yeah,” BigB sighed, watching Ren carefully, “but you know I- it was just hurtin my heart not to tell my soulmate and all.”

“Uh well dude!” Ren forced a smile until the cheer felt genuine, “I appreciate the honesty man, that’s great. Thank you.”

“Just so you know,” BigB shrugged, taking a deep breath. It felt like such a massive weight off his chest, honestly he wished he’d said something sooner. Then he could have enjoyed the morning with his soulmate.

Who just shrugged as if he didn’t care, but was still frowning. “I mean is that it, like? Is that it?”

“Yeah, yeah that- that’ it, that’s it.” BigB assured him and Ren nodded, heading to the ladder with another shrug. “So just in case I’m like gone, somewhere on vacation,” BigB continued, insistently “And you don’t see me. I’m gone with my secret admirer.” He wanted to make sure Ren knew it was a possibility. Not that he really wanted to meet up with Grian necessarily…well, maybe. He just wanted Ren to be aware that he might, even if it were just to tell him no thank you.

Ren just laughed a little, sure BigB was joking. No-one said, ‘it was hurting my heart just to think you didn’t know someone wanted me to cheat on you’ and then immediately ran off and cheated. BigB had brought this to him as if it were a moral failing when he hadn’t even done anything and now he was joking about it because Ren had assured him it wasn’t a big deal. That was good! This was good!

Ren wasn’t worried. He didn’t need to be. BigB and Ren to the end. This was just another hurdle to get there and they’d get over it fine.

“Okay, well,” he shrugged, wrapping his arms around BigB’s waist and fixing him with a charming smile, “That’s nothing man, that’s alright. That doesn’t bother me.”

“Just know I’ll be back!” BigB insisted and Ren just chuckled, nodding along in mock seriousness. “You know, I’ll be back.”

“Yeah that’s cool,” Ren murmured.

The two of them just stood there in the middle of their house, wrapped up in each other’s arms and quietly forgiving one another for the way that all went down. Hoping everything would be okay in the end, even if it felt right now like it was ripping at the seams.

“Well listen,” Ren pulled away and grinned, “Shall we go to the deep dark.”

“Yes,” BigB nodded, grateful for Ren’s seemingly endless ability to act like everything was fine. “Yes, I would love to.”

“So what happened?” Scott set down Cleo’s tea in front of them and then quickly withdrew it as they slumped onto the table, hair splaying out around them, and groaned into their folded arms. He set the tea down by their forearm and nudged them with it a little, quietly coaxing. Then he settled himself across from them and took a sip that burned all the way down his throat. Cleo peeked out through their barricade of hair and arms and noted the tea, dragging themself off the table. He smiled to himself, watching as they calmed a little, wrapping their fingers through the handle and taking a deep breath of the steam.

“He was trying to do calculations…” they began, voice carefully calmed, “but boy he’s bad at maths.”

“Yeahh,” Scott sighed, leaning back in his chair and nodding thoughtfully, “I’m also bad at maths,” he shrugged, “Which is why I don’t try.”

Cleo nodded and threw up the hand that wasn’t holding their tea in exasperation. As if it were obvious. Because it was. You shouldn’t try to gauge something you clearly can’t, do some bullshit calculations when the stakes were as high as they were. They only had three lives, between two of them so essentially one and a half. And he wanted to go wasting one of theirs on bad maths? It was ridiculous and not for the first time, Cleo wished the universe could have just smiled upon them for once and paired them up with Scott. Reasonable, level headed Scott and let their lunatic soulmates kill each other.

“Yeah same,” they sighed, staring into their tea for a few moments before angrily banging their head on the table. Which got a laugh out of Scott and probably and yelp out of Martyn.

“I got a free enchanted chest plate out of it, it was great!” Scott shrugged, shooting Cleo a grin that made her relax enough to drink her tea, which calmed her down a little more. Then she just laughed, utterly exhausted at this point and honestly glad that at least he got something out of it. It was such a Scott thing to do and she was far beyond feeling sorry for Martyn.

“I can’t believe he did that,” they reiterated, now that they were calmer and Scott would take them seriously. It bothered Cleo that she’d had the exact same thought. Maybe that’s why they were soulmates. Person on the edge of a platform, precariously over what was probably water but could have been land and both their first thought was push em off. The difference of course was that she didn’t, if only out of self-preservation and Martyn killed them both. “I just can’t. I’m trying to-” They were trying to work out why he’d do it, how it served him, what secret hidden advantage they’d unknowingly granted him. But they cut themselves off. It seemed a little too ridiculous a thought to share even with Scott. Because even after the baseline ridiculousness of the line of thinking, it wasn’t even valid. Because if anything, she had the leverage now because she’d been trying to put effort in and he’d killed her. It gave her the moral high ground, gave him a reason to grovel and maybe, finally put effort in. “My brain is going…why?” they rephrased, hoping that was a question Scott might have the answer to. “Why would he do that?”

Scott’s laugh was consumed by his tea and he just shook his head, clearly just as bewildered as she was.

“Why would he do that?!” Cleo repeated through an incredulous laugh, their voice getting much higher pitched in their frustration.

“It is Martyn,” Scott shrugged, leaning back on his chair until he was dangerously close to toppling and staring thoughtfully at the roof, “It does somewhat make sense.”

“Yes, but no!” Cleo insisted. That had been their first line of thinking. Oh it’s Martyn. He’s a wildcard, he’s a loose cannon. He’s unpredictable and mental. They’d always thought that was just people demeaning him. That really, he was much more calculated than that. Disloyal, selfish, generally an asshole? Sure! But not wild, not unthinking, uncaring. He wanted to survive, to win. That had been Cleo’s read on him anyway. Sure, Martyn was idiotic and reckless. Especially when it came to the safety of others around him. But he was also selfish, incredibly so. At the end of the day, Cleo could trace every behaviour of Martyn’s back to a motive of self-interest, or self-preservation. This wasn’t that. Any of that. So had he just not got it in his head that they were linked? Or did he just not care? Either way, it wasn’t very self-preservative of him. It wasn’t the way to keep the two of them alive longer than everyone else. Pushing your soulmate off a cliff wasn’t how you won the soulmate death games.

“Like, me and him, we’re like survivors.” She’d definitely coined a phrase with that one. She might have said winners but that seemed misplaced sitting across from a literal winner who still had his first life with him. She definitely should have said winners to Martyn, maybe that would have put things into context, helped solidify the idea that they needed to stay alive. “We do things- you know and it’s…” They sighed, again. They’d honestly lost count of how many times they’d sighed today and it was getting frustrating.  They squeezed their eyes closed and took steady gulps of their tea, as if it might soothe their tumultuous heart from its frantic breathing.

They didn’t know how to phrase it, they really didn’t. We do selfish things? Things that may seem stupid or reckless or short sighted at the time? Make harsh but practical decisions? None of that she could communicate to Scott. Not properly, not well. Not in a way that wouldn’t make him have to ask a million more follow up questions she didn’t have the answers to.

“Why?” They sighed again instead, just utterly exhausted, “It’s so stupid.”

Scott nodded and said nothing while Cleo’s gaze slowly softened and then pulled his chair around next to hers, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. She leant into his warmth, letting the tears she’d been holding in fall, letting all her rough exterior melt away in his company, his closeness.

“It’s so stupid!” she mumbled into his shirt and he just nodded again, silently more understanding than any amount of words from Martyn ever could be as he held her tightly and gently wiped the tears off her cheek with a reassuring thumb. Thank whoever had blessed her with Scott in her life. She wasn’t sure how she’d cope without him.

Chapter Text

BigB and Ren were having rather a better day since they’d left Box late that afternoon. They’d been lingering at the ranch for a while and much to BigB’s annoyance, Martyn had shown up. He’d been trying to assess if the vibe between him and Ren was off but their vibe was so weird anyway, he honestly couldn’t tell.

They’d wasted most of the day by the time they made it to the tunnel, but both of them were buzzing with adrenalin enough to forego sleep. Both were worried someone would get to the iron before them, especially after they ran into Impulse who dejectedly told them Etho had mined most of it already. Still, he’d been pleasant and showed them how to get what they needed from the iron vein before he left. The two of them were easing back into their rhythm again since their sort-of-fight.

They were having a much better day, until they ran into the demoness again.

Her voice shattered the stifling quiet around them, though neither could quite make out what she was yelling up at them from the ancient city.

“Oh!” Ren gasped, whipping around defensively as BigB groaned and murmured, “Oh no.”

“It’s the demoness herself!” Ren hurried to the edge of the cliff staggering down into the sprawling sculk city below, squinting through the dark like he might see her.

“You know what, you caused your own death!” she screeched, still making no effort to keep her voice down, despite her precarious position. “That wasn’t my fault. That wasn’t my fault Ren!”

“Pearl, where are you?” Ren glanced around, terrified about how loud she was talking. Though the two of them were far enough out of the city that they wouldn’t summon the warden, that didn’t necessarily mean they’d be safe if he were summoned. “You gotta talk softly okay?”

“You’re being awfully loud up there,” she retorted, completely missing the point and utterly wrong. Ren and BigB were cautiously whisper-yelling even though they were the ones who didn’t need to. “You should take your own advice.”

“Oh there you are,” Ren let out a breath of relief as he spotted her, cloak bright red against the dulled blues and greens of the city, leaning far too casually against a pillar, gazing knowingly up at them.

“Boo!” she yelled, far, far too loud and it put both of them on edge, exchanging an uncertain glance. If she was going to continue like that, they might need to get out of here. “Hi!” her voice turned sweet, but neither of their wariness waned, “You guys been lootin chests?”

“Nope!” Ren shook his head vehemently, still not taking his eyes off her for a moment, “Not looting chests just here for iron we’re not, we’re not that brave.”

“I mean I saw BigB city before,” she shrugged, smirking between them, “So, you sure about that?”

Ren glanced at BigB, frowning for a whole new reason now.

“Wait, wait, wait.” BigB laughed, “It wasn’t me.” he gave Ren a mock serious nod, “It was someone that looked like me.”

Yeah, Terry, Ren thought, half amused until he wasn’t, remembering the man he was with was so very capable of lying. Maybe he should reconsider his position. He kept his gaze on his soulmate for a solid moment, watched him slowly notice Ren, that glint of a smirk in his eyes fading into concern.

Ren shook his head, turning back to Pearl. He’d only been in her presence for the better part of two minutes and already, she was making him question everything. Whatever power she’d been vested with, he didn’t want to mess with it.

“Pearl, the problem is,” he called back down, “You have a demon within, my friend. It is not your fault; it is the demon within.”

“Me??” Pearl laughed utterly incredulous, “I think you need to look at yourself in the mirror,” she snapped, her tone taking a hard right despite her laughter, “Blamin an innocent person for your own mistakes, that’s as demon as it can get.”

BigB raised an eyebrow at him and he just shook his head. He wasn’t blaming Pearl, she was great and he honestly did really like her. She just had a demon within her that was causing chaos so he couldn’t trust her. Pearl wasn’t listening to him and now she was influencing BigB.

He was suddenly very aware of the rock, slipping under his feet and took a few steps back, watching the stones clatter into the city.

“BigB look how close she’s got us to the edge of this cliff that if we fall over, we will die!” he cried, putting an arm protectively in front of his soulmate and pushing him back. So they were both a safe distance from the edge. “Who’s the demon now!” he shouted down at Pearl.

“Take one step forward,” she smiled so deviously she suddenly fit right in down in the city, despite her bright red, “Do it! I dare ya.”

Ren felt deeply unsettled and turned away, grabbing BigB’s arm and pulling him away, “This is what I’m talking about BigB,” he whisper-yelled conspiratorially, “Don’t talk to her. Don’t talk to her! Ignore her!”

The night bore on and both of them grew tired as they mined. The adrenalin had someone worn off now that they were out of the way of any direct danger, up on a platform near the iron vein. They'd cleared out enough for both of them to be set for a while, which was more than either of them had expected and exactly what they wanted.

“BigB we gotta get outta here dude, I’m tellin ya,” Ren sighed, leaning against the wall with a sigh as BigB continued quietly mining.

“We really do,” he nodded thoughtfully, throwing a grin over his shoulder at his soulmate, “Our chances of survival are going down by the minute.”

Ren didn’t seem to catch on to his joking tone, grimacing and nodding bleakly, “They really are.”

-

Martyn was there again.

Because of course he was.

BigB was really starting to get annoyed at how inseparable him and Ren seemed. Sure, Ren was fairly inseparable from BigB, they spent most of the time together. But they spent half of that time with Martyn there as well and that wasn’t even because a soulbound situation, it was just how it was. What he hated most was how quickly natural Martyn was. Slipping back into their company like he’d never left, settling into their life.

So BigB was already practically boiling over with anger and frustration and all those fun emotions he was trying really hard not to feel. The horrible jealousy and paranoia that had been building a home in his chest. He didn’t trust Ren. He didn’t trust his assurances. It was a startling realisation, but he felt much better once he’d accepted it.

Martyn was talking about a certain skull he really wanted to collect on the other side of the deep dark, clearly not playing anything safe just because he'd recently died.

Ren eventually turned to BigB with a propositioning smile, “BigB, let’s hedge our bets here, alright?”

BigB already didn’t like the way this was going, eyes darting between the two of them, making no attempt to hide his wariness.

“You get the iron back to box safe and sound.”

There it was. Void. He honestly felt ill, forcing a nod and muttering, “Okay, alright.”

“And I will go with Martyn to try and get the skull.”

Fuck it. Sure. If Ren wanted to send him off so he could spend the night down in the shadowy corners of the ancient city with Martyn, fine. That was Ren’s choice. He’d make his own.

He turned to Martyn as if BigB had already left. “Martyn, take me to the skull, I am intrigued.”

BigB just glared at him, volatile anger rolling over itself in his gut. But his soulmate didn’t notice. He didn’t care. So he quietly packed their things as his soulmate disappeared into the city, abandoning him with the things. He quietly made back up to the surface, back to box. He stowed the iron in the chests.

He did as he was instructed and he didn’t question Ren, or his choices, he didn’t try to argue with him.

Because he didn’t care anymore.

He went downstairs immediately and opened the abandoned chest, taking out the mangrove wood box and staring at it for several moments.

Was this a point of no return? It certainly felt like a turning point. A more monumental decision than perhaps it was, all overwhelming his mind.

But Ren had already made that decision. He’d already abandoned BigB. It wasn’t his fault that he was now seeking love from someone who cared. He stared at the note until he felt ill, but the decision was still firm in his mind.

Get yourself a soulmate who doesn’t die to endermen <3

It was the wrong angle really, from the not-so-secret admirer. He might have made this decision yesterday if the message had been:

Get yourself a soulmate who doesn’t abandon you for his ex-boyfriend that he’s still not over <3

BigB was suddenly struck by the confusion he probably should have had far earlier. Of why did Grian want him at all? Why wasn’t he happy with Scar? Shouldn’t he be head over heels to be paired with his ex-boyfriend that he still wasn’t over.

But apparently he was. He had to be, if he were seeking out BigB.

Sure, when they’d met on the mountain…there had been something there. He’d thought they’d be soulmates of course, hoped even maybe. But he’d also hoped for Ren. And that hadn’t turned out particularly well for him, had it?

But for BigB, it was less of a question of why and more of why not. It couldn’t hurt to go and see Grian, just talk to him and see where he was at. See what was going on there. See if he wanted to pursue it. He’d told Ren he might and Ren had answered by running off with Martyn so surely, surely, it couldn’t possibly hurt their relationship that much to just talk to Grian. It wasn’t as if he was going to agree to anything or actively cheat on Ren or…

He took a deep breath, to steady his rushing thoughts.

The thing was, if him and Grian were soulmates…well, he’d pictured it on the first day and, it was undoubtably something he’d wanted to pursue.

But now there was Ren, his soulmate. Soulmate, soulmate, soulmate. He’d forgotten what that word even meant it seemed to carry so much self-assured importance. But he hadn’t called Ren anything more than that, had he? Anything more than soulmate. Were they boyfriends just because fate had dictated they fit together?

He was getting wildly off track here. He tried desperately to remind himself he liked Ren, loved Ren. The problem was, the more time he spent loving him, the less convinced of that he was. Ren had always been someone he pined after. Some far-fetched dream that would never come to fruition. A man miles out of his league who was too perfect for words but would never so much as consider him in that way. And now he did. Now he loved BigB back and he really didn't know what to do with that.

Cheat on him, apparently.

But every time his thoughts spiralled back to that, back to loving Ren and wanting to stay with Ren and cherish the limited time he had with Ren. He thought of Martyn, and the way Ren looked at Martyn, the way he acted around Martyn. The way his eyes darted to the floor when he tried to claim he wasn’t leaving him. For Martyn.

He had. As far as BigB was concerned, what just happened, in the deep dark, that was Ren’s decision. And he’d decided to leave.

So BigB clutched the mangrove wood box tight in hand, and he left too.

“I know somebody is gonna be happy,” Impulse muttered, just loud enough for Bdubs to hear him as he trudged back up to the mid-century modern house, grinning ear to ear, “I have returned home!”

“How did it go?” his husband’s voice shouted from the pool.

Impulse made up the hill towards him announcing gleefully, “I have returned home, pockets full!”

“You have returned home!” Bdubs climbed out of the pool, a little sweaty from construction and grinning just as much as Impulse as he enveloped him in a tight hug despite the cave grime still stuck to his clothes.

“Oh!” Impulse beamed at the pool, fully dug out and tiled across the walls. “We’ve already done quite a bit as well."

Bdubs nodded enthusiastically, staring proudly at his work, “Yes!”

“It looks nice!” Impulse assured him, dropping his bag and rolling his aching shoulders.

“Ah yeah so…” Bdubs watched him dig through the bag absolutely full of goods, both looted and mined. “Yeah um.”

“Uh oh.” Impulse glanced up at his fumbling awkward soulmate in concern.

“It’s not bad!” he assured him, waving desperately, “It’s not bad…but.” He glanced over at the pool and then sheepishly back at Impulse, “I realised when you cut copper, you get way more.”

“Oh yeah,” Impulse laughed, grabbing a smaller bag out of his mess of things, “So, what you’re saying is like…” he gave the bag to his soulmate who opened it hastily and stared wide eyed, “This was…a bit unnecessary for-”

“GOODNESS SAKES!” Bdubs stared up at him, clearly overwhelmed by the sheer volume of copper his husband had procured.

Impulse just laughed breathlessly, rubbing the back of his head a little sheepishly.

“Holy cow!”

“Yeah…I found a little bit while I was down there.” He grinned at the half-completed pool and couldn’t help another laugh at their ridiculousness, “Oh man.”

“Well, we might be able to make a bigger pool then!” Bdubs offered, unwavering in his enthusiasm. Impulse wasn’t sure if he would call Bdubs an optimistic man. But he certainly had a way of taking whatever came and turning it into something he could work with, something that could benefit him. Maybe he wasn’t optimistic himself but he certainly made it a lot easier for Impulse to be an optimist.

“There we go!” Impulse cheered, jumping on board, “Well we could even have the pool, and then maybe even a separated jacuzzi. You know the ones that have the hot water with the bubbles.”

“Yes. Yes.” Bdubs was all smiles, nodding eagerly, “That’s it.”

“Also look!” Impulse gestured down to the armour, technically Bdubs armour, he was wearing, now shimmering with the faint glow of enchantments “I’m shiny now!”

“You’re shiny!” Bdubs cheered, throwing himself at his soulmate for another hug, “You did it!”

“Yeah!” Impulse laughed as Bdubs wandered off toward the pool, “Yeah so, uh…you can keep those clothes,” he called absent-mindedly as he stuffed his things back into his bag. “or if you’d prefer to switch back,” he mocked through gritted teeth and Bdubs threw a grin over his shoulder at him. Impulse just shrugged, “Ah that’s up to you. I’ll leave that up to you.”

“No, no, no.” Bdubs was back at his shoulder, wrapping his arms around him and weighing him down into his things, “Sharing clothes that’s…all part of the deal.” He ran a hand across the fabric of his shirt, sitting on Impulse’s shoulder because he'd accidently took it out of their things that morning and they hadn't been bothered to switch.

“Oh yeah!” Impulse laughed, turning to face Bdubs who shuffled over so they could both sit with their legs dangling into the empty pool. He leant his head on Bdubs’ shoulder and sighed, wishing he could bottle the moment and carry it with him, never forget it, never lose it. Never let any of the sorrows of the future touch this moment right here. He tried his best to lock it away in his mind, but he was fretting now and the simple peace had already evaded him.

“Well Martyn,” Ren began in a hushed tone as he crept after Martyn through the city, following his every footfall, hoping his intelligence and general level of competence would get them through alive as he was preoccupied telling him his theory, or more accurately not telling him his theory while his mind remained a blur of all the threads that made up the great theory of Pearl's curse. “I don’t know how to explain this to you, okay.” There was a creaking horrible sound and he glanced up, pausing only a moment but falling several paces behind Martyn. He quickened the next few steps as he continued, “I wanted to come and talk to you earlier but…” he trailed off, not sure he wanted to finish that sentence. But I have a soulmate? That didn’t feel right.

“Uhuh?” Martyn coaxed, still only half paying attention as he navigated, tongue clamped between his teeth like it always was when he was thinking.

“My friend,” Ren began, before pausing, the weight of those words feeling odd between them and the weight of the words coming next burdening his brain. Martyn let the pause linger between them. “I fear black magic is afoot upon this world.”

Martyn finally stopped, turning around with concern darting in his eyes, “Oh what?”

“Nobody else sees it but,” Ren sighed, throwing his hands up before staring dejectedly at the floor, “It’s so obvious to me.”

For a moment, Martyn said nothing and Ren worried he thought him a fool, didn’t believe him or trust him or just didn’t see it, the same as everyone else. Then he glanced up at him and saw him nodding in contemplation.

“What have you seen? What are the signs?” he gushed, “I’m not versed in black magic, only white magic so this is, very concerning to me.”

And he did, look genuinely troubled as he turned back to navigating.

“Well, last week,” Ren began with a deep breath, so eternally glad Martyn was taking this seriously “BigB and I stumbled upon Pearl and Scar doing a- some sort of ritual in the forest.”

Martyn turned to give him a pensive expression, murmuring, “Right…”

“Which then resulted in Pearl coming over to our base yesterday and then us dying within seconds of her arrival.” He’d meant to lay out the points logically and though his voice was matter of fact, he may have been exaggerating slightly.

Martyn hummed thoughtfully, turning away again.

“But then I start putting pieces together,” Ren continued enthusiastically, “Pearl and Scott are… broken up. Right?”

“Uhuh,” Martyn nodded, tongue back between his teeth and his face a picture of concern, “Myself and Cleo are broken up as well and they’ve been in close proximity.”

Ren could have hugged him if they weren’t in such a dangerous situation. He got it! Exactly what Ren was insinuating and he’d already gotten it.

“Exactly,” he nodded, wrapped up in his own conviction now, “Wherever Pearl goes, some sort of badness seems to follow.”

Martyn nodded firmly, still clearly deep in thought. “No wonder she’s built her base so high up in the sky!” he added onto the ever growing list of suspicions, “She’s tryna mask what she’s doing so nobody would bother going up to her.”

“Yeah!” Ren agreed exasperatedly, “This is what- this is what I’m saying right! So, Pearl and Scott are broken up. That has resulted in Scott and- and Cleo getting together, thus, wrecking you.” Ren gestured fervently at Martyn and then took a step closer, continuing in the hushed tone that somehow fit the conversation as well as the environment. “Who, is the common denominator, in this here equation, my friend?”

“It’s Pearl” Martyn mumbled; the shock of the revelation clear in his voice as Ren slotted the pieces into place around him.

“It is the demoness herself.”

At that point, Martyn gasped from in front of him and Ren hurried, as much as remaining quiet would allow, to see what he was glaring down at. He could hardly see through the pressing darkness, but he could tell from Martyn (simmering with anger beside him) muttering, “Did somebody take it?” that they had arrived at their destination.

“Wait a minute, is this where it was?” he confirmed as Martyn snapped, “I think I know who took it. It was right there! At the foot of that pillar.”

It was a little too loud and they both turned at the creaking, groaning sound of a sculk sensor somewhere in the distance.

“Oh,” Ren winced, glancing between Martyn and the empty pillar he could just about make out now it had been pointed out. “That’s not cool.”

“She’s taken- I guarantee you; she’s taken it.” Martyn continued, a little more hushed this time.

“I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised, honestly.” Ren nodded enthusiastically and Martyn just scoffed out a sigh, turning away with a glare into the distance.

“The thing is,” Ren insisted, “The plot is thickening, I think. And this is why I wanted to get away from BigB dude.”

Martyn froze, straightening and meeting Ren’s gaze with a sudden piqued interest. He thought he’d imagined that, been too in his own head about Ren and micro-analysing what was probably just normal soulmate behaviour. He felt oddly vindicated to know he was right in thinking Ren had been trying to get rid of BigB. And…and what did that mean? Ren wanted to speak with Martyn, alone, without his soulmate present? Even if it were about black magic and unfortunate situations, he’d still rather speak with Martyn about that than his literal soulmate? It made a very horrible part of Martyn feel some sort of vengeful victory and the purest part of him overjoyed with an unmistakeable love. Because Ren wanted him again. And that meant more to him than he cared to admit. Especially with Cleo’s taunts still ringing in his mind. This is why you’re alone, Martyn.

“He just told me, in confidence,” Ren continued, frustration definitely rancid on his tone as Martyn took a few wary steps toward him “That somebody came to box and left him some sort of package encouraging him to leave me!”

Martyn just stood there staring, not sure what to say. My condolences? Now you’re in my boat? Welcome to the divorce club? He was sure Cleo would smack him for saying any of that and scrambled for a sentence they'd approve of. He couldn't find one.

“I looked him in the eye and,” Ren sighed, shaking his head and staring in utter dismay at the ground, “I think I saw something sparkling. Something bad.” He glanced up to meet Martyn’s gaze, that hadn’t wavered from his for a moment, “Something pearlescent.”

“Oh no,” Martyn took a step back, holding his gaze for a moment before turning away, shaking his head, “He’s- he’s so- he’s so easy to convince.” He began away in the opposite direction, toward the exit, “He has a good heart, but it’s weak.”

“And who was down here when BigB and I arrived?” Ren insisted, a little loudly, apparently not minding Martyn casually insulting his soulmate. “Pearl.”

“Oh no,” Martyn mumbled again, with little more commentary to provide on the situation while Ren was still summarising.

“Who was down here now that the skull is missing? Pearl.”

“And who’s happy to run around just singing down here?” Martyn added, “Apparently Pearl according to Impulse. So even other people are starting to notice that she’s…” he paused, searching for a word just out of reach, the strange uncanniness that followed them everywhere just a little more with Pearl. “Just not, quite right.” He sufficed, though it didn’t, couldn’t, fully describe the unsettled feeling he’d gotten recently being around her, “A little unhinged.”

“Indeed.” Ren paused before attempting what he knew had to come next. Martyn seemed happy to leave the whole thing as shiver down the spine creepy, possibly black magic and avoid it. But Ren knew, he knew they had to do something about it, if only for self-preservation. And he knew the man in front of him would see that too. He just might need a little convincing. “However, Martyn.”

He turned around, raising an eyebrow at Ren who took a few steps forward, “This leaves us opportunity I believe.”

“We have to cleanse her,” Martyn nodded decisively but Ren shook his head. He hadn’t the slightest clue how they’d even go about that.

“I believe that Pearl might be the strongest person in this game, without even knowing it.” It was quite the declaration really but Martyn just nodded faithfully, moving back toward Ren as he continued, “Whenever she is around, chaos erupts, death happens.” He straightened up, gesturing around in his pontification, “Who else would we want on our side? Other than, the demoness of chaos herself?”

Martyn’s gaze snapped up to meet his and he took a wary step back, “Wait you want to- you want to join her?” he asked incredulously, staring at him in utter disbelief.

“Yes,” Ren murmured, so softly it was barley an assent.

There was a stilted silence between them as they held furious eye contact. Martyn wasn’t sure how to feel about that. He wanted to be allies with Ren, friends with Ren. Actually, he didn’t care what they were so long as they were together. And by the sounds of things, BigB wasn’t going to be around anymore. If Ren’s plan were to take Pearl down, he might have though this the best possible turn of events.

But to ally with her? To get closer to the curse that was raining down death and destruction on anyone that crossed it’s path? That sounded like a quality Ren plan. Well intentioned, not involving as much murder as was really necessary and probably going to result in a lot more death.

“I propose,” Ren held his hands out in front of him, a sort of surrender but more of a- well more of a proposal, “And should I return to the surface and BigB has abandoned me,” his voice hitched only slightly and he swallowed the nervousness clawing it’s way up his throat, “We approach Pearl to set up an alliance.”

Martyn tossed it over in his head, trying desperately to weigh pros and cons.

“The broken hearts club, if you will,” Ren offered.

His heart was certainly broken and he’d love to not be alone (if partially just to stick it to Cleo). But then again. Ren had just explained all the reason Pearl was a ticking time bomb, a disaster waiting to happen and he wanted to be in her vicinity when that happened? He wanted to actively get closer to her? It didn’t make a lot of sense to him. But on the other hand…Ren.

Ren who was offering him to be his ally, his friend. Again. Ren who was already talking like his soulmate wasn't in the equation. Ren who was offering, with that stupid grin, to meet him, to go off making alliances and fighting curses together.

And how could he resist a hand held out in offering of anything when he wanted so badly to hold it.

“Sure,” he shrugged after a beat, “I’m down.”

An unfortunate thought crossed his head as Ren pontificated dramatically, “All of those of us who have been rejected.”

“Yeah, I mean…” he cringed imagining the look of utter hurt on Pearl’s face that first week, “It’s gonna be an awkward conversation because…I broke up with her.” He laughed at the look of confusion and concern creasing Ren’s face and the improbability of Pearl’s forgiveness, “Very soon after they broke up with us so…” he shrugged, “It might take a little convincing on my part.”

“What I know,” Ren insisted, “Is that Pearl is lonely.”

Martyn sighed; he supposed that were true. The same as him and the same as Ren soon enough. However, her loneliness was probably also his fault.

“She needs people. She needs somebody in the world to come to her aid. And if she is in fact the demoness that I foresee her being,” Ren shook his head with a slightly terrified laugh, “I would like to be the person next to her at the end, to be completely honest with you.”

That made the whole thing make more sense to Martyn. Ren wanted to be allied with her so she’d kill other people and not him, so her crazy would be directed away from him. Martyn could see the logic now, he just wasn’t sure if it would work in practice. Still, it was Ren and he was nothing if not along for the ride.

“I’ll tell you what,” he told Ren with a pointed look just before the two of them ducked into the tunnel up to the surface, “This- this is the plan. You head to your base, find out if BigB has defected or has been sweet talked into going elsewhere.” Which made Ren behind him frown at his feet, though he didn't see, focused ahead up the tunnel, to the surface, the future. “I’ll quickly run and grab some lapis, get enchanted and we’ll meet back on the surface.”

Ren had no objections with that, he could use some time alone to collect his thoughts, though he dreaded returning to box and finding he had that time. 

By the time they finally made it to the surface, Ren could hardly contain his tumultuous heart. Martyn pointed out a mountain in the distance, near Pearl's base.

“We’ll meet at the top of that in like an hour okay?”

“Alright,” Ren nodded, “Sounds good.”

The two of them awkwardly met each other’s gaze for a few moments, then Ren pulled him in for a brisk hug before letting him go and clearing his throat, giving him a business-like nod and heading off. Martyn watched him go then frustratedly kicked up a tuft of grass, tutting at himself. What the fuck was that? They’d been fine the entire time they were in the deep dark. Though he supposed they were cautiously keeping their distance. He supposed it was that stupid unshakeable loyalty of Ren’s. He didn’t want to go anywhere near the line with Martyn until he was absolutely sure BigB had crossed it with his secret admirer. Martyn could only hope that was what he was waiting for. That he wouldn’t refuse to sink to his soulmate’s level or something dumb like that. He made off toward the bleeding heart bastion, wishing for the mindless excitement and exhilaration he’d felt down in the dark. But it was gone under a layer of doubt and anger.

Compared to the rest of the season, Jimmy’s week had thus far, been rubbish. Sure, no-one had tried to kill him or scam him or burn his house down. Which was a rather significant pro.

But there could have been all the pros in the world, it didn’t change the glaring con Jimmy couldn’t quite believe was affecting him so much.

Tango hadn’t been home for several days now, too busy out in the world, (and from what he knew, far under it) concocting his revenge. People were keeping a wary distance from the ranch and Jimmy felt really quite alone.

He hadn’t realised how accustomed he’d gotten to Tango next to him until he was suddenly very isolated in an empty bed, far too many blankets pooling around him and shivering without his soulmate’s warmth. Although that could well have been due to his soulmate’s cold as well, most likely off sleeping in a cave somewhere.

Scott had been round, not to bully him which was a refreshing change but it didn’t fill the Tango shaped hole that was very quickly burrowing itself into his chest.

He’d made some progress on rebuilding the ranch so that at least they had a roof over their heads. He really wasn’t much of a builder and only knew the basic skills but still, it was perfectly practical and better than the devastation of the wreckage.

Joel and Etho kept telling him to watch his back which, given that it was basically his only interaction for a few days, was driving him a bit mad, truth be told. Telling himself they were just doing it to mess with him wasn’t helping either, which it sometimes did.

About mid-day on what must have been the third day without Tango (not that he was counting or anything), he spotted a pair, with a twinkling green soulbound that he absolutely did not want to see anywhere near his ranch. The juxtaposition of Scar’s excited skipping followed by Grian’s reluctant trudging, affectionate smile and darting glance brought up an all too familiar wave of anxieties.

“Wow, wow! Hey!” he yelled down at them as he scrambled off the roof, “Hold it! Hold it!” he shouted over Scar defensively chirping something about the horse as the two of them headed into the stable.

“No stop, no!” By the time Jimmy had gotten to the ground and dashed over, Scar was on board the horse, that still looked just as disgruntled as ever and Grian was leaning against the wall with a casual smile. Jimmy skidded to a halt and glared at the both of them, his only weapon a hammer he’d been using in his construction. There was an axe somewhere in his things but he had a feeling they would be long gone by the time he retrieved it. Grian was holding an axe, presumably that he had used to hack the gate to the splinters now lying in the grass.

“Scar, you don’t wanna do this!” he snapped, trying to sound scary, forcing himself into the doorway, “You do not-”

Unfortunately at that moment he spotted the hole Scar had made in the stable wall just as he effortlessly turned the horse and called, “Goodbye! Have a good time!” as it cantered out, taking him halfway to the wheat field before Jimmy could even process what was happening.

“Scar you don’t wanna do this!” he screamed after him, though he didn’t see what difference it made at that point. Tango was already having revenge.

He took the horse right through the wheat field, just to add insult to injury, calling “trample, trample!” as Jimmy continued spewing threats.

“I promise you; this will be your last time doing that!”

Scar took no notice, jumping right over the wall and then yelping as he fell down presumably a considerable way more than he was expecting. Grian just laughed from over at the stables, even though Scar was practically hyperventilating through his incredulous laughter as he rode away. Some soulmates they were.

“I’m good Grian I’m good!” he called back over his shoulder, “We got the horse, let’s roll!”

But Grian, apparently, wasn’t ready to roll, because Jimmy turned around to see him disappear into the ranch house. He ran up the hill after him, flinging the door open and standing angrily at the doorway.

“Grian, what are you doin?” he demanded, watching in frozen shock as Grian searched casually through his chests like it wasn’t a big deal. Wasn’t that something people usually did like, secretly? When someone wasn’t home? Why did everybody think they could just do whatever they liked to him because oh he’s Jimmy what’s he gonna do? He was sick of it. Bloody sick and tired.

“Just, just browsing,” Grian shrugged, tutting, apparently disappointed at the lack of resources in Jimmy’s chests.

“No!” Jimmy forced himself between him and the chests and pushed him back toward the door, “Out!”

“Just browsing.” Grian muttered, almost forlorn and still far too casual.

“Out!”

“B r o w s i n.”

“No. No!” Jimmy grabbed his axe from the floor, to look a little more threatening.

“Chickens!” Grian cried, ever a master of the out-of-pocket distraction. No. not today.

“No, you don’t, no! Out!” He grabbed Grian’s sleeves and practically dragged him to the door as his brother continued to glance about, making little humming noises to himself, wordless judgments on the ranch around him.

Suddenly, there was a “hello-o?” and Jimmy glanced up, letting Grian rummage in the chest by the door as he stared at the man coming up the hill, looking right around Jimmy as if wasn't there, not exactly the way you politely asked someone if you could come into their house! This was still his house right? He wasn’t imagining it?

“BigB?” Jimmy cried, throwing his hands up in utter frustration as he shouted, “Why is everyone- what’s everyone going-”

Neither of them were paying any attention to him. Grian had perked up upon seeing the other man, straightened and left Jimmy’s chests alone, grinning as he called, “BigB!” with far too much enthusiasm for an accidental meeting.

“Heyyy,” BigB laughed unsurely, eyes fixed on Grian who returned his gaze. Jimmy just glanced between the two of them in utter bewilderment and frustration.

“Nice glasses man,” Grian smirked. His posture had definitely changed, a brighter air about him. And there was definitely something odd in the way BigB shrugged, concealing one hell of a grin in an attempt at nonchalance.

“Thanks I try.”

Jimmy took a step forward, moving between them a little because it seemed the only way to get their attention, “What are you, what are you doing here?” he demanded of BigB, vaguely aware that he probably shouldn’t be glaring him down but far too amped up on anger to care.

“I- I was just you know, it sounded like someone was in distress,” his eyes flicked back to Grian again who turned away to smirk at the wall. “So I just stopped by to make sure everything was alright.”

Yeah, Jimmy was in distress and so far all BigB had done was stare at the perpetrator.

He took another step forward, an insistence reflected in his tone. “Could you please-”

“I got some gifts for you BigB,” He was cut off again by Grian, swinging his pack off his bag and pulling out several smaller bags, thrusting them into BigB’s arms, “I- I got some mutton.”

“No wait,” Jimmy faltered, his frustration fading as utter confusion overtook it. Something was definitely going on between these two and he felt vaguely as though he shouldn’t be in the room. “Is that my stuff?” he asked, pointing exasperatedly at the mutton that BigB was now stowing into his own pack.

But still, neither of them were listening to him.

“I need a- I need a word with you.” BigB told Grian firmly, putting a hand on his arm that made Grian’s face turn a hot shade of pink. “Okay,” he murmured, staring at the floor. Jimmy’s discomfort reached a new level as the two of them made out toward the door, mere inches away from each other. Grian turned around, clearing his throat and awkwardly glancing between BigB hovering just outside the door and Jimmy lingering inside, making no attempt to hide his confusion and concern.

“Yeah I got- I got a present for you too,” he said to Jimmy with a less than convincing smile, “Here you just- enjoy that…” he flicked a bit of zombie flesh off his sword onto the floor in front of Jimmy and raised his eyebrows in mock excitement before turning and ducking out the door, shutting it behind him and turning to BigB, beaming, “I’ll uh…”

“Rotten flesh?” Jimmy called after him, without even the effort to be angry, just calmly seething. “Are you-”

Grian began giggling as Jimmy called, “Out the ranch!” After him. BigB took his hand, mumbling, “You come here.”

Then Jimmy followed them out and he quickly dropped his hand as they were both chased by an angry rancher yelling, “Get out the ranch! Out the ranch, conversation out the ranch, please!”

Ren walked away from Martyn with a heavy heart, wishing he wasn’t feeling all the things he couldn’t help feeling. This whole situation would be so much easier to navigate if he weren’t having to think around his feelings for Martyn. If he weren’t having to try to notice how they were clouding his judgement and factor that into his decision. He wished he hadn’t hugged him. It was awkward and weird and everything had felt natural between them before that. Friendly. But somehow the very friendly act of hugging his friend had made it glaringly obvious that whatever was between them was very not friendly.

He groaned, stopping in his tracks and closing his eyes. He took a moment and a few deep breaths then continued. But it didn’t really help. His heartrate definitely went up as he approached box.

He had a horrible suspicion that BigB had indeed, left him for whoever the secret admirer was. He didn’t even know why, it wasn’t at all how BigB had presented it. But he couldn’t shake the feeling now it was settling itself in his gut. It actually was, entirely how BigB had presented it. He’d just assumed he was joking.

Just know I’ll be back.

What difference did it make being back, if he’d been off with the secret admirer. That he’d explored other options but came back to Ren? Was that supposed to be the consolation. It didn’t feel consoling. It felt like the destruction of something beautiful. Something that had just finally gotten the time to breathe, to exist properly.

The thing was though, he couldn’t even blame BigB for it. Because he’d been…infected. Infected by Pearl. And if he had abandoned Ren, he could only blame the curse of Pearlescent Moon.

At least he had a plan and though Martyn seemed somewhat dubious, he was sure that the best way to try to break the curse or maybe fight the curse was to align with it. To be one with the curse. To become the curse! Maybe his thinking was tumbling out of control but maybe that was the only way.

He lingered outside the door of box, hand paused on the handle. His senses pricked and heart fell at the almost resolute quiet from within. Maybe BigB was down in the basement, with another surprise or a project or, or maybe he was just asleep. They’d had a long night after all.

But he opened the door and tears stained his cheeks because he knew, as he suspected, that he was alone again.

BigB and Grian made their way into the jungle just up the hill from Jimmy’s base, where, cloaked by the trees, they both just stood there for several moments, staring at one another.

If Grian had felt a little skip of his heart back on the goat mountain, his heart was now jumping off a cliff. He couldn’t help his smile, couldn’t hide his excitement, he couldn’t stop giggling under his breath. It was ridiculous, but he let himself indulge in it. He found he didn't mind BigB seeing him being ridiculous and it was an awfully relaxing realisation. 

“So,” BigB said at last, closing the gap between him and Grian and taking his hand. They were so close, Grian was absolutely sure he could hear his panicking heart. His hand was cold from the wind and Grian suddenly felt like he was overheating. BigB met his gaze that he could hardly hold it, he felt as though he might burst if he existed in this man’s presence for a moment longer. But in the good way where the energy would consume him and he’d feel elated not overwhelmed. “You da best,” BigB beamed and Grian could help beaming right back, in an instant throwing caution to the wind. He wrapped his arms around BigB’s neck, practically throwing himself at him and making an indescribable noise of indescribable happiness.

“And I-” BigB laughed at the sudden assault but pulled him closer.

“Did- did you get the little gift?” Grian spluttered out, pulling away so he could stare at BigB’s smile again, wishing to memorise every tiny second of it.

“I did!” he chimed enthusiastically, squeezing Grian’s hand.

“Cos I went- I went round the…giant…” he stared into the distance where only boxes nose could be seen glaring through the foliage. “face- is it a face? And the heart was gone and I was like did he know or did- did, my worry was that Ren found it and hit it before you could get it.” He took a deep breath, suddenly realising he was talking very fast and gave BigB a chance to speak.

“No, no,” he laughed, a hand snaking around Grian’s back and squeezing his shoulder reassuringly, “I- I decided to uh hide it so that he- he wouldn’t know who it was.”

Grian frowned, trying to put the dots together, “So he doesn’t know? He doesn’t know.”

“He doesn’t know it’s you.” BigB gave a conceding shrug and Grian nodded thoughtfully.

“But he knows there’s…” He trailed off, lost in his thoughts. It would be better obviously if Ren didn’t know anything but he couldn’t complain. He didn’t know what BigB’s situation with his soulmate was. He should be glad that it was dicey enough for him to be here right now and not just ignore Grian entirely.

“He- he knows, yep.”

“Oh no,” Grian breathed with a sigh, still staring at the grass like he might retrospectively change what BigB had told his soulmate by counting the blades.

“But I have something for you,” BigB announced, withdrawing for a  moment to sling his pack off his back. Grian straightened a little, still beaming as BigB held out a little box of his own. He took it eagerly but then the other man snatched it back right before he could grab it, staring down at it with concern creasing his brow. “Don’t laugh,” he told him, in a serious tone that made Grian immediately laugh, glancing at the box with a pre-emptive concern. Something about BigB knowing he’d find it funny was already too funny to contain his laughter.

“But it’s- it’s kind of like a heart shape.”

But Grian was giggling now and there was no stopping that. “You said don’t- I’m- I’m gonna laugh now.”

“It’s a heart shape,” He insisted and handed over the box that Grian took carefully, lifting the lid and taking in the contents.

He burst out laughing, shaking with the effort of it, honestly shocked he hadn’t dropped the little box. “That’s not a- what is that?!”

Inside the box was a collection of chocolate chip cookies arranged in the most dubious heart shape Grian had ever laid eyes on. It looked more like a letter J with an unfortunate pimple or a similarly bad eye shape. It was not, at all, even incredibly wonkily, a heart.

Grian couldn’t stop laughing and BigB soon joined in, the two of them staring at the arrangement and clinging to each other as they shook with laughter until both their cheeks hurt. It was an exhilaratingly freeing sensation to be so utterly at peace. Not paranoid or hurt or trying to pretend everything was fine. Just genuinely feeling comfortable in each other’s presence. Just genuinely being happy and having fun and laughing at ridiculousness that wasn’t even really that funny.

“How am I- how am I not supposed to laugh at that?” Grian wheezed.

“That’s like…an actual heart,” BigB suggested through his grin.

Which started them off again, both hardly able to breathe through trembling bursts of hysterics.

“Oh like a real- like a real-life heart?”

“Ye- yes. You know hearts don’t look like hearts.”

“Uhuh,” Grian sighed, leaning against BigB, half for his closeness and half just for balance as his hysterics slowly waned and a headache settled. “Maybe if you tilt your head and squint your eyes…”

BigB gave a last chuckle, watching Grian thoughtfully as he smiled affectionately at the cookies. Then he carefully closed the lid and turned to BigB, smiling ear to ear. He pulled him close again, appreciating every moment of his warmth, the way he smelt, the fabric of his jumper and the way his chest rose and fell with his breathing.

“This means a lot to me,” he spoke softly over BigB’s shoulder, sending goosebumps up his neck. He smiled to himself, letting himself get lost in the moment.

“I’m glad,” he murmured, “I’m glad.”

“Right,” Grian withdrew and swung his pack off his back, sliding the cookie box into it, “If we’re gonna- if we’re gonna see soulmates on the sly, okay right?”

BigB hadn’t been aware that was going to be the arrangement. He didn’t know what he’d expected really but…you know what, that made sense. That was fair, wasn’t it? That was reasonable? It made sense that was what Grian was seeking and sure, it was probably what he wanted to. Someone who wouldn’t leave him or either way, someone he didn’t have to be paranoid around. He was certainly enjoying his company so far.

“Alright, alright.”

“I- I gotta share with you, my most…valuable thing. Okay?” He was scrabbling through his pack for something else now and BigB watched on in curious interest. “And seriously I mean this,” he paused to look him right in the eye, his face matching the seriousness in his tone. It made BigB's heart flip in a mild panic. “You can’t let anyone get it.”

He said nothing for a few moments staring at him, “Okay?”

BigB suddenly realised he definitely wanted a promise and nodded exuberantly, straightening and nodding confidently, “Okay.”

“You can’t let anyone get it.” Grian repeated and BigB just took a step back, shaking his head and laughing nervously, “Dude the pressure! Stop, the pressure.”

“No, I’m serious,” Grian insisted, though his face relaxed a little, “Keep it in your bag unless you’re gonna farm it but then…” he trailed off, shrugging and grabbing out his insanely valuable item.

BigB had been trying to think of things him and Ren didn’t already had but came up short until Grian said ‘farming’ and then he was suddenly wildly apprehensive, quite sure he knew what it was.

And sure enough, after glancing pointlessly around, Grian handed him several stalks of sugarcane.

BigB gasped all the same, grinning ear to ear, eyes wide at Grian who was still glancing furtively around. BigB wasn’t sure whether or not to be offended that to Grian, the sugarcane was a bigger secret than he was.

“How?” was his only question, staring at the man in front of him who gave him a wide-eyed look of bewilderment.

“I got it in the first week and- I left- I found lots but…I left some! So, other people have it or they got rid of it or something but, everyone claims they don’t have it.” He paused for breath, shaking his head as a smirk crept across his lips, “But I do.”

BigB’s enthusiasm was cut short as he saw Martyn, just outside the forest, riding past the ranch. “Sh, sh-sh-sh!” he hissed at Grian, taking a full step back before announcing loudly, “Oh yeah! of course!”

“Of course!” Grian joined in immediately, also spotting Martyn who apparently hadn’t even noticed them yet. “That’s wonderful rotten flesh!”

“Of course.”

“Wonderful!”

BigB began packing his stuff and Grian gave him a quizzical look. “Ren left me and went on a little quest with Martyn.” He explained in murmured haste. Grian didn’t understand his urgency but he nodded, glancing over at Martyn as he jumped off his donkey at the cliff edge, wondering if he’d seen the sugarcane.

“Your secret is safe with me,” BigB assured him, apparently reading his expression and Grian nodded appreciatively at him. “Okay, good.”

BigB paused as he slung his pack onto his back and took Grian’s hand, meeting his eye with an endeared smile that made Grian’s heart burst a million times over. He vaguely wondered if Scar could feel that before detesting the thought and pushing it out of his mind, forcing it to focus on remembering this moment instead.

“Secret soulmates,” BigB spoke softly and gently, pulling Grian toward him a little.

“Secret soulmates,” he repeated, laughing and wrapping his arms around BigB again, “I like that,” he mumbled affectionately.

Then BigB pulled away again, clearly still desperate to head off somewhere. Grian pulled him back, for just a moment before he left and drew him into a kiss. The moment melted between them and BigB forgot all about hurrying back to meet Ren, who’d be at Box by now, wondering where he was.

Neither of them cared what anyone thought because there was something so wonderfully beautiful about that moment, between them. Something so simple, so…right.

And when at last they both pulled away, grinning ear to ear at their secret soulmate, there wasn’t a single doubt in either of their minds.

“Alright well,” Grian shrugged inconspicuously, throwing a half-hearted wave over his shoulder as he disappeared back down the hill, “I’ll catch you later.”

“Yeah,” BigB laughed, “See you later.”

Then they hurried off in their separate directions, thinking only of the other’s presence and the gifts rattling in their bags.

Chapter Text

At this point, basically the entire server knew that Grian had sugarcane. Which was honestly, probably mostly his fault. He hadn’t been the sneakiest he probably could have been.

The problem with monopolies was that in order to get the power and the riches they were supposed to give you, you had to reveal that you had the monopoly and therefore, open up opportunities for people to steal them from you.

The other problem was that Grian had had a very busy week and hadn’t had time to rip up his sugarcane farm so he could keep it all on him at all times.

So, it wasn't really that surprising things had ended up this way.

Still, he was furious.

At the very start of the week, he’d given Scar paper he’d made from the sugarcane in the hopes that he could sell it to people and then they wouldn’t be able to farm it themselves, only buy the paper from him. And that would be possible because he was soulbound to a master salesman.

Scar, wasn’t sure how to feel about this arrangement. On one hand, he was thrilled Grian trusted him to be a paper salesman. On the other, it was another task that Grian had just given him to do. Not actually including him in his plans, not actually giving him access to the sugarcane because apparently he didn’t trust him with something so very valuable.

There was the way he’d said, “since you’re my soulmate.” As if soulmate were an odd word he didn’t quite know how to say and with several layers of insinuated expectation. That Scar would be his paper salesman because he was his soulmate.

Still, maybe if he could prove that he was an excellent paper salesman, Grian would trust him with more consequential things such as handling the sugarcane, for a wild example. He hated that he had to prove himself to him because, hadn’t he been the reason the two of them won in third life? Hadn’t he been the one to kill Ren and Martyn, to let Grian kill him? Hadn’t he already proved that he could be very competent and trustworthy? Apparently not, because Grian didn’t even trust him to sell paper, the one thing he’d expressly told him to do.

“Hello?” Joel called up the hill as Scar jumped down from the main deck of their boat with a flourish. “Hello Small Etho how are you guys?

“It’s the boat boys actually,” Joel corrected self-importantly.

“Boat boys!” Etho cheered in support, slinging an arm around Joel who shrugged it off, hurrying around the other side of the ship toward Scar, glaring at him.

“Please do not call us Small Etho.” Joel snapped, a groan in his words, which only inspired Scar.

“We are the boat boys!”

“Small Etho, gather round, gather round,” Scar beckoned them, completely ignoring both of them, much to their annoyance as they exchanged a pissed off glance. Etho just laughed. “I brought uh good news for everyone!” Scar announced excitedly, beckoning them closer still.

“Oh. Is it?” Joel scoffed sceptically.

“I have some…” he was almost immediately distracted by Joel, leaning against the side of the boat, holding a shining tool in hand. “Is that a diamond hoe?”

“Yeah,” Joel shrugged, "I found this in the deep dark, Scar. It's enchanted and it's got mending on it."

Scar took a step forward, pulling two sheets of paper out of his traveller bag. “I will trade you two paper for it.”

“No.”

Scar was a little disappointed at how little hesitation Joel had. Scar wasn’t entirely sure what he’d do with an incredibly powerful hoe but it seemed like a cool thing to have.

“I have a feeling some ranchers might want this,” Etho murmured, glancing over at the ranch in the distance with a grin.

“WAIT,” Joel grabbed his arm tightly, staring at him with unblinking expectation, “I’ll take sugarcane though.”

Scar panicked a bit, taking a step back and swallowing his doubt, putting his hands up as if to show they were empty, aside from the paper he was still clutching, “I’m not allowed to hold the sugarcane. I’m only allowed to hold the paper.”

Suddenly Small Etho were right in his face, grinning at him and he was horribly overwhelmed. He could very much see how they were soulmate though. The same overly enthusiastic grin, the same expectant stares.

“You have sugarcane!” Etho accused fiercely just as Joel cried, “You have sugarcane?”

“No- nooo,” Scar took a step back just so that they weren’t so in his face because he could practically feel himself quickly losing his control of the situation, “But I have paper.”

The two of them just laughed exasperatedly, but with triumph tinging at their tone.

“You just admitted you have sugarcane!” Etho gestured pointedly at his bag.

“Grian must be loving you,” Joel scoffed.

Scar’s stomach sunk and he tried desperately to ignore the wave of hurt and prick of tears at those words. He took a deep breath and straightened, choosing to petulantly ignore Joel’s comment and focus on his task. Ignore that he’d already failed his soulmate and focus on how he could make this situation work.

“Anyway, anyway.” Move on, leave it alone, don’t think about it. It had always worked for him in the past. “I have paper for sale and um what-”

“So, yeah where’d you get that paper Scar?” Joel insisted just as Etho said, “Where’d the paper come from?”

Seriously, the two of them were like clones.

“Uh, the paper fairy.” He shrugged without hesitation, “What would you like for two pieces of paper. What can I get you into?”

“You can’t do anything with two pieces of paper though!” Joel cried, throwing his hands up frustratedly.

“We can’t make one book with that Scar!” Etho reasoned as Joel yelled, “We can’t even make one bit of TNT!”

Not exactly clones then.

Scar was about to argue that they could make a piece of TNT, he was sure you could do it with two pieces but at that point the group was distracted by Grian’s miraculous appearance at the top of the staircase up the hill.

“Oh hello Grian,” Scar said sweetly though he fixed him with a glare. Seriously, he couldn’t be trusted with anything?

“Scar’s told us about the- the sugarcane Grian,” Joel blurted immediately and Grian’s gaze shot to Scar, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“You’ve been hiding from us Grian,” Etho shook his head like a disappointed dad.

“I haven’t!” Grian flung his hands up, a bewildered expression so quickly coming over his face it scared Scar a little. “I only have paper, I only have paper.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Joel scoffed, turning away in clear disbelief. "Scar’s words: ‘I’m not allowed to touch the sugarcane’ he said sugarcane. Not paper.”

Grian’s gaze darted back to Scar and darkened just for a moment, a promise of much more anger later when they were alone and then his face went blank again. “Well no, no, no it’s pa-per. Paaaper.” He dragged the word out patronisingly, stressing it with a gesture at Joel who was staring incredulously. Scar suddenly felt his silence some sort of crime. He wanted so desperately to prove to Grian that he was competent and capable. He needed to help, needed to rescue this situation where he’d apparently ruined it.

“We brought it from Pearl,” he blurted out, meeting Grian’s eye with a pointed look. “She’s a dealer.”

His soulmate’s eyes sparkled a little, a subtle difference that neither Joel nor Etho would have noticed the way Scar did.

“Yeah, we got it from Pearl,” he agreed with an enthusiastic nod.

“She’s a dealer in the woods,” Scar preached to the very unconverted Joel and Etho who weren’t really listening anymore, “You knock three times and she’ll appear.”

The two of them nodded in mock belief, rolling their eyes and exchanging glances with one another. Grian just made excuses and hurried Scar down the hill.

“Did you sell the paper or not?” he hissed at him and Scar felt indignation toil in his chest. He was so sick of Grian treating him like some incompetent wayward child.

“Noo,” he whined sharply, “They were awful neighbours.”

“What can we do!” Joel screamed down the hill, clearly eavesdropping, “With TWO PAPER!”

“Wait,” Grian glanced between Scar and Joel with a bewildered frustration, “I gave him six!”

Everyone laughed around him and Scar wanted to run away and bury himself in a hole and never see the light of day. Oh yeah. silly little Scar doesn’t even know how to make TNT. Can’t even sell people paper when they need it so desperately. Incompetent, idiotic little Scar.

“I was negotiating Grian!” he yelled, hating how whining it came out sounding, hating that he was on the verge of tears. Though out of hurt or frustration or embarrassment he wasn’t sure. “Don’t you understand negotiations?”

He somewhat appreciated Joel and Etho threatening Grian, saying they were going to bring a dig party to his house. Though Grian didn't show any concern, Scar saw it in the plucked out red feather he was twisting between his fingers and the harsh way he grabbed Scar's arm as they made to leave.

Grian's wing situation was getting more dire by the day and it was really starting to concern Scar. Grian hated when his feathers were a mess and seeing him so unconcerned with it was worrying. Still, he knew better than to comment, he didn't want to make him more upset or self-conscious about it. So it was just another thing that went unsaid between them.

Grian followed him to Scott's house, that now had tall walls bordering it in. A rather defensive move, but probably a smart one. History showed walls ended well for people, although it hadn’t stopped Scott’s last house being destroyed.

However, almost as soon as Scar began to carve himself a way in through the wall, Grian was gone, up the hill toward the giant box he kept insulting, of all places. Scar was just glad to be left to his own devices for once and not obsessively babysat.

Unfortunately, Scott was having none of his paper sales because, like everyone, he just wanted sugarcane. Scar told him the same lie he’d told Small Etho that Pearl had sold him the paper and she was the one with the sugarcane, though he was quite sure he didn’t believe him.

Although, he did seem more interested in making a deal than Joel and Etho had, that was a pretty low bar and all he did was not say no. Instead, he explained that he was making a relationship ranch, to facilitate love between soulmates and suggested sending business to Scar's panda reserve, which was absolutely thrilling to him because the more people who came to the panda reserve, the more people seemed to like it and the more potential allies he was collecting. He needed a reputation as the chill panda keeper so people would trust him and ally with him. And now he was making alliances with Scott over it as well? He couldn't see how Grian was so vastly underestimating the potential of the panda reserve.

“We might be in competition,” he’d shrugged, half-sarcastically with a smirk at Scott who just looked utterly perplexed.

“With what?”

“I don’t know if you know,” Scar grinned self-importantly, “But I rekindled the love between uh Cleo and Martyn to the point where they uh- they died for each other.” He shrugged again, saying it all very offhandedly as if it wasn’t a big deal. He just rekindled love, opportunistically and it had actually worked.

“Yeah no Martyn pushed her off a cliff,” Scott said blatantly, shaking his head at Scar who laughed in complete bewilderment, “She is not happy.”

“Wha-at?”

Eventually, they struck a deal for Scott to send business to the pandas, and Scar to repay in paper. It wasn’t until he was out of the wall that he realised that probably wasn’t the best of deals for him. Still, they hadn’t shaken on it and he hadn’t given him any paper yet so he still had time to switch the swindle and get more off Scott.

He felt a little more confident with one success under his belt and went all the way over the other side of the map to sell to Bdubs and Impulse.

“Wonderous paper!” he announced enthusiastically to the wildly juxtaposing pair. Impulse had one eyebrow raised in dubious disinterest and Bdubs was practically splitting at the seams with his enthusiasm. Scar narrowed in on him, the most likely customer and all that. “You can write a nice little love note,” he offered with a suggestive nod at Impulse, “or!” he shrugged apathetically, ‘If things don’t quite work out between you, you can leave him a TNT present.”

Both of them looked shocked and a little offended at that but Scar didn’t care. He was full sales pitch now. “With this paper.” He held it up with a flourish and a tempting smile.

Bdubs nodded enthusiastically and then turned around to rummage through their things. “Would you like some…” he dragged over a barrel and nodded decisively at it, “Copper?”

“How’s the sales going Scar?” called the familiar voice of his soulmate and Scar froze with a hardly contained anger, turning with a forced smile as Grian clambered up onto the edge of the pool and a round of waves were exchanged, “Sold any yet?”

Scar didn’t have it in him to tell Grian he hadn’t sold any paper and besides, that wasn’t exactly the way to get Bdubs and Impulse desperate to buy it. “Oh you wouldn’t believe how much profit,” he lied instead, leaning back against his cane with a hefty sigh, “It- I only have a few pieces left here I’m tryna sell to Bdubs and Impulse here.

“What?!” Grian sounded a little too surprised and Scar hated that he was right to be. He just shrugged it off, sticking to his façade.

“Yeah, only four pieces left.”

“Four pieces of paper,” Bdubs repeated thoughtfully, “Alright, you get thirty-two copper.”

He practically shoved it into Scar’s arms. He might have been offended if he weren’t entirely confident that it was just Bdubs’ general overenthusiasm. He frowned down at the bag of clinking copper pieces and rolled his eyes as Impulse murmured, “Ooh. Thirty-two. That’s a lot!”

“But I- we need this paper.” Bdubs muttered back to him and the two of them seemed to do some telepathic communication as Scar stared at the spot where Grian had disappeared then cursed himself for getting distracted.

He chucked it back to Bdubs and it landed with a clunk at his feet. When he spoke next, his salesman persona had very much dropped and all his hurt that was quickly boiling over into pent up anger made his voice monotone and bored.

“Try again.”

“WHAT?!” Bdubs paused after his initial response, staring at Scar with a certain level of annoyance, tainted with fear. Scar hated the satisfaction it gave him to see someone’s concern tip over into unease. He hated that he liked being dangerous because he knew it wasn’t sustainable. But he enjoyed it. Just for a moment.

Until Bdubs very quickly regathered his anger and screamed, “TRY AGAIN?! THIS IS- ay come GET your BOY GRIAN!”

Which made Scar’s stomach turn and his anger boil up again. He clenched his fist around his cane until his knuckles were white and forced the other hand to still. He couldn’t bear what Bdubs must think of him to say a thing like that. What he must think of him and Grian and their relationship and more than all of that, he couldn’t bear to think what Grian would feel upon hearing it. Angry probably, offended. He’s not my boy.

And he wasn’t, was the worst thing. He was kidding himself really to think that-

“Scar I got the gunpowder let’s go!” Grian shouted, almost louder than Bdubs. Scar watched in bewilderment as he burst out the door, Bdubs hot on his tail. He glanced back at Impulse who frowned at him, betrayal in the crease of his brow. He probably thought Scar had planned this. Had he planned this? He didn’t have time to consider it. He ran to the edge of the pool and jumped down into the garden, sprinting after Grian as everyone shouted and Grian cackled. Something about it felt distinctly them.

Bdubs shot arrows after them and Scar called out to no-one in particular, as if just affirming for the record, “I don’t know why we’re running!” then specifically to Grian, “Did we just make an enemy?”’

Cleo's eyes swept over the scene of devastation and a small smile played at their lips. Joel and Etho were leaving the horrific mess of stone underneath Martyn's base before the man in question got back and had a go at them. Which was fair. Cleo had no such urgency. They wanted Martyn to see, wanted him to know she was involved. Because he couldn't be mad at her. He'd literally killed them yesterday.

“Cleo?”

She turned around and frowned at Etho, who squeezed Joel’s arm and muttered something to him and then made back down into the ravine toward her. Joel rolled his eyes and carried on back up toward the surface.

“You’ve always been a good- good partner someone I can trust…”

“Mhm,” Cleo frowned, regaling him with a scowl, as he paused dramatically.

“Grian has the sugarcane.”

They rolled their eyes and nodded boredly, “Yeah I’m aware. Don’t worry, I know.”

At this point, Scar running around selling paper on behalf of an ever more elusive Grian was common knowledge. And the desire to topple their stupid monopoly was just as widespread.

“Have you found it yet?” She asked expectantly. Because if anyone would have, it would be Joel and Etho. If there was one thing she’d learned about that team it was that the combined determination between them was a force to be reckoned with.

“No,” Etho sighed, “I was thinking we might arrange a dig party around their house…”

He let the ending trail off, regarding her with a suggestion in his expression and she nodded thoughtfully more than on board with that.

“Well call me in,” she agreed, “I’ll come help.”

“If we get like ten of us digging,” Etho shrugged, already half turned away to leave, “I’m sure we’ll find it.”

“Grian I don’t wanna-” Scar sighed as the two of them made away from Bdubs and Impulse’s, having agreed to head to the ranch and find his horse again. He was currently riding via donkey and he was not vibing with it. He was convinced the stupid donkey hated his guts, “This is gonna be really hard to admit, I’ve sold none.”

“You’ve sold none?” Grian laughed, not really surprised, given how things went down with Joel and Etho, “Maybe this paper thing isn’t gonna work. Everyone just wants sugarcane, you know?”

Scar breathed a quiet sigh of relief that Grian wasn’t blaming him and the two of them set off toward the ranch in a companionable silence. Scar savoured the rare sweet moment while it lasted and Grian tried to pretend it didn’t exist.

It wasn't just the failed paper sales that was causing problems for the sugarcane monopoly however. Unfortunately, Grian got a little too much of a kick out of just randomly pulling sugarcane out of his pocket and flashing it at people and then leaving. There had been the whole incident with Timmy of course.

He'd left Scott's to go find BigB but he wasn't at Box so he'd gone to find Scar at Bdubs and Impulse's. The gunpowder had been a...happy little accident. Actually there had been lots of happy little accidents recently. Like BigB showing up at the ranch when he'd stayed to annoy Timmy and Scar was off doing, goodness knows what. Happy little accident. And actually, Grian felt much happier for having spent just a few minutes in easy company.

So happy in fact, that he'd gone and pushed Tim off a cliff. Really, it hadn't been his fault. There'd been a lot of people around, he wasn't really concentrating and Tim had been right on the edge of the weird little deck he'd built out over the ravine. How was he supposed to resist?

But he'd made an enemy of Tim.

Actually, he'd made an enemy of Martyn as well, who'd been complaining to him about Joel and Etho trapping him. Grian had been a little indignant on his behalf until he realised what they'd actually done.

"Ohhh they're tryna get rid of your house. That makes sense, I'm all for that."

"WHAT? Alright, that's it. You're on the list as well."

He hadn't been as offended about that as Jimmy banning him from coming into his stupid ranch.

"Right," he'd explained as he half-dragged him out the gate, "You're on the list at the front."

"What do you mean the list?" He'd directed Grian's attention to a hastily scribbled on sign poked into ground by the door.

BANNED LIST: GRIAN

"Banned?" Grian balked, turning back to Jimmy who was back inside beside Tango, folding his arms and glaring. And Grian hated that he felt a tiny bit hurt. All he'd done was push him, he hadn't even fallen that far. It was just some light hearted pranking fun. Light hearted brotherly fun and games. Nothing more. Surely Tim wasn't actually going to ban him over that. Scar wasn't banned and he'd burned down the place.

"Ranch closed," Tango shrugged apathetically and Timmy nodded along with him. "Ranch closed for you bud."

"Alright," he mumbled in contempt, fishing a bit of sugarcane out of his pocket, "I'll keep this to myself."

Then he left Tim and everyone else there bickering and ran off back home."

Almost as soon as Scar got his horse back, he lost it again. He tried to sell to paper to Pearl, but she just offered him junk and then took the opportunity to steal his horse, so he left. Pearl was nice enough; he was sure she’d return it at some point and if she didn't... Well, he'd just shown everyone he had fiery ways of making people return his horse. It had been a last ditch effort though. Aside from maybe BigB and Ren, neither of whom he could find, he didn't know who else would really buy the paper and given everyone's reactions so far, he was somewhat losing hope. So he went back home where Grian was waiting with dinner and the next wonderous plan for capitalising on their monopoly. He couldn't help his giddy excitement at that. Although he did somewhat feel like this whole monopoly scheme was the only thing keeping them together at this point, which felt a little Deja-vu.

Grian’s next wonderous plan was to pretend to sell people sugarcane but actually just sell them bamboo or mangrove propagules and the such likes and scam everyone out of their things. Scar was well on board with that, but it very quickly went very wrong.

Cleo and Etho were the first to show up the next day and he tried the trick on them but they both just immediately clued on to what he was doing. Once they were aware of each other’s presence they teamed up on him and he was horribly overwhelmed.

Cleo was annoyed, because she’d really like to have this whole sugarcane thing over and done with so she could get on with her life. However, Scar and Grian being the only people with TNT was absolutely not an acceptable situation for everyone to be in. Etho was just determined because he’d set his mind to it now and he’d be damned if he didn’t see it to fruition.

However, both of them, seriously underestimated Scar’s persuasion. Somehow, despite taking no shit from him and stealing his diamonds, he got them all back and they left empty handed.

Both equally fuming.

“How’re we getting the- the…!” Cleo threw their hands up with an exasperated groan and turned to Etho expectantly.

“Okay, I think…” he paused, staring up at the quickly darkening sky with a frown as he evaluated, "I think we gotta get like- two more people, at least. And then…we distract Grian.” His gaze flicked back to Cleo who nodded, picking at their nails as their thoughts came in flickers of far too much information at once, “I mean who- who…? How’re we gonna?”

“And Scar.” Etho added, making no effort to disguise it as an afterthought. Neither of them were too worried about Scar. But Scar could still tell Grian. They stood a far better chance if neither of them were ever aware. Then again, the two of them were at odds. Maybe Scar would side with them just to spite his soulmate?

“Ohh we gotta distract both of them,” she groaned, “Where are they both gonna go together. Is the quest-” She cut herself off with her own gasp, kicking herself for not seeing it sooner.

“Any- any ideas?” Etho asked, with a sarcastically hopeful laugh.

“YES!” they exclaimed with a grin, “I could like, we could speak to Scott!” She rushed off back toward her house, with excitement not just nervousness that it was getting dark. Etho followed, long legs making for a much less frantic pace than theirs, so he got to keep his calm collected demeanour even while keeping up with her excitement. “And get them over to the new- the ranch.” She continued, “and they could do a- a…companionship test!”

“Okay,” Etho nodded enthusiastically, grinning, “Sure!”

“But we need-” Cleo stopped at the edge of Etho and Joel’s farm, shaking their head, “If we’re gonna do this, we need to do this quick. We need to get a dig party together.”

“Okay, I’m gonna gooo,” Etho readjusted his mask as he turned to head up the hill, “talk to Bdubs real quick then.”

Cleo nodded and set off in the other direction when they were both turned in their tracks by the distant but shouting voice of Bdubs, “I’m here! believe it or not, I’m here! What’s the chances?”

The two of them laughed in bewilderment, exchanging a fairly confused and exasperated glance.

Etho scoffed in sarcastic endearment as he laughed, “Wow, Bdubs. You’re so short I can’t see you, where are you?”

Cleo cackled meanly but found they didn’t care too much.

At that point, Bdubs hauled himself up over the cliff and scrambled angrily to his feet. “Very freaking funny!”

Etho just glanced up at the boat, his grin fading into a slightly absent expression. Cleo watched Bdubs watch him with a sceptical look between the two of them.

Eventually, Etho turned back and Bdubs pretended he wasn’t watching, asking cheerfully, “What’s this I hear about a dig party?”

“Okay, we found out Grian has been hoarding the sugarcane,” Etho explained for what felt like the hundredth time, “over under the trifle.”

“YEAH!” Bdubs agreed aggressively. Cleo vaguely noted that he didn’t seem surprised, “And he stole my gun powder as well! I hate people that steal my gunpowder and lie to me.”

“It’s the worst right?” Etho nodded like that oddly specific pet peeve was a shared thing. Joel appeared with a grin, leaning one arm on Etho’s shoulder. Cleo noticed Bdubs pretend he wasn’t watching that too and wondered if that was for Etho’s sake or his own.

“Yeah, people lying to you is the worst thing,” Cleo spat indignantly at Bdubs who met her gaze then glanced away, mumbling, “Yeah, that’s right.”

Etho followed Cleo to her house and she noted how much she was enjoying his generally quiet and amiable presence. He wasn’t intense or loud or annoying. He didn’t have an overinflated ego she had to walk on eggshells around so as not to bruise. He was just…he had a calming presence that she appreciated.

The two of them met Scott on the bridge and Cleo explained the situation to him as he nodded along, leaning idly against the railing and glancing between Cleo and Etho thoughtfully. He seemed to catch on just as quickly as Cleo, perking up a bit and smirking as he offered, “I will invite Grian. And Scar. To my relationship ranch!”

“That’s what I was thinking!” Cleo nodded, beaming at Scott, on her wavelength as ever.

“Okay,” Scott turned back to his ranch, peering into the distance, “Scar was looking for Grian. I’m going to- is Scar on top of my roof?”

Cleo moved to stand behind him, peering over his shoulder and following his line of sight before nodding grimly, “yes.”

“That’s one down.”

Scar peered through the gap in Scott’s wall at the flash of red he’d seen, aboard a mottled horse he knew all too well. He wasn't going to go after her, but the more he'd seen and heard of her this season, the more convinced he was that she was not someone to be messed with. And he wanted to give her some opportunity to change her mind before going straight to the flint and steel. Still, he had no idea how to get her off his horse. She’d gone insane.

He watched her giggling to herself over nothing in particular and took aim, loading his bow as he angled it through the wall.

“I see you there Scar,” she called out just as he let the arrow fly. She changed directions at the last moment and it hit the horse who reared up, whinnying fiercely in pain.

He gave up on the element of surprise and ran through the door, levelling his bow at her face, way up on Scott’s roof.  “I want my horse Pearl!” he yelled, which only made her laugh more. “I want my horse!”

“No! Your horse is my horse,” she giggled, shaking her head at him and clutching tightly to the reigns of the disgruntled horse. It was so unbelievably unshakeable given everything that had happened to it. “I dunno what you’re talking about. this is not your horse.”

She said it all so quickly Scar hardly registered what she was actually saying, just that she was still smiling and still on the horse. He shot again and she tried to get out of the way again, this time making for the edge of the roof and jumping off just as the arrow struck the horses leg and it crumpled to the ground, whining in pain.

“Don’t shoot it!” she cried, clambering off it to examine the arrow wound, “You're horrible!” she yelled fiercely at Scar, though the whine of a sob in her voice somewhat undermined her. “Your horse is almost dead!” which might have been an exaggeration but it wouldn’t be for much longer. “Your horse is gonna die if you shoot it again.”

He said nothing, glaring adamantly at her hand, still clutching the reigns.

“Do you want- is that what you want Scar?” she snapped deliriously at him.

In a second, he was right next to her, his bow replaced with a long knife he struck fiercely across her hand holding the reigns. She yelped and pulled it back, glaring at him.

“Hand over the horse Pearl!” he said, far too calmly.

She just stared at him until he saw something sparkling in her eyes that made him deeply uneasy and took a cautious step back.

“No.” she murmured, so softly, it was barley more than a whisper.

Then the horse bucked and stood, shaking on it’s injured leg but ferocious with panicked energy. “No!” she screeched gleefully as she was lifted with it and carried quickly away from Scar, half falling off it’s back as it galloped away, “No! No, it’s my horse now!”

“Get back here Pearl!” Scar chased her, taking off on foot but quickly no match for the terrified horse’s thundering steps as it took off across the bridge. It didn’t help that his lungs were burning with the strange twitch of soulbound pain and he couldn’t seem to breathe for the life of him. Which it was. Because if Grian continued, they were actually going to die. “Grian if you take one more ounce of damage!” he screamed frustratedly out into the world. By the time he made it to the bridge, Pearl was on the other side and Scott was blocking his path with a charming smile and a calming hand on his arm. He could at least seem to breathe now and the horse thief had disappeared off, blending in with the horizon so he scoffed out the last of his anger and fixed Scott with an expectant frown.

“Erm, so…” Scott was a little wary of touching whatever situation was going on but he forced a smile as an idea came to him. “How about, you come to the ranch, with Grian and I will get you your horse back. Because Pearl is my soulmate so I can make it work.”

Scar was just watching the horizon angrily. He regarded Scott with a curious expression for a few moments and then nodded, shrugging, “Okay. That’s a deal.”

Scar shook his hand and then made off over the bridge, mumbling to himself, “That’s a deal. That’s a deal, that’s a deal.”

It was a great trade for him. He got his horse back without having to deal with the scarlet Pearl and he had an excuse to take Grian to the relationship ranch. Scott had been telling him about how he was doing basically couples therapy and Scar knew, especially after their sort of fight the other day. And actually all the sort-of-fights they had every day, that they needed it. Something was wrong and Grian wouldn’t tell him what and it was ruining everything. Maybe through Scott’s activities, he’d finally open up and explain to him.

Still, as he sat on Joel and Etho’s bridge, staring dejectedly at his communicator, he didn’t hold out much hope.

He’d tried to find Grian, and okay, maybe the first part was kind of his fault because he’d started off the conversation rather aggressively.

<GoodTimeWithScar> Grian WHRERE ARE YOU WHY SO MUCH DAMAGE!

But Grian had only met and raised his tone with his own aggressive response.

<Grian> IM BUSY

Scott just stared bewilderedly at his own communicator wondering if he should genuinely try to fix Grian and Scar’s relationship because he couldn’t see how he could possibly make it worse. The two of them were the most undeniably toxic couple. That were still together of course. Maybe he should offer Scar to come live with him and Cleo. Maybe that would be his angle with the ranch. Either way, the dig plan was underway and he needed to do his part

<Smajor1995> You two sound like you could use a relationship ranch

Scar just got up with a sigh and went over to the red velvet keep and stood in utter shock for a few long moments. There must have been half the players there, calling out to one another as they shovelled determinedly. He knew immediately they were trying to dig it out to find the sugarcane.

His grip tightened on his cane and he made angrily toward their tunnel entrances, “This isn’t- we’re not playing moles.” He mocked indignantly.

He grabbed a bucket of water from near the panda reserve and poured it down the nearest opening, making Joel shriek.

“Why is there water? Where’s the water coming from?”

“We’re not playing moles guys.”

Joel stormed out of his tunnel, glaring soddenly up at Scar. “Don’t drown us Scar that’s mean.”

“Well I-” Scar sighed exasperatedly, throwing his hands up in furious defeat, “I can’t stop you this is…” he stopped, shaking his head as they all adamantly ignored him. “Man if I was red right now.”

“But you’re not,” Cleo snapped, “So…”

“So I just have to watch you guys mole through our base!”

He slunk inside to grab some food and checked his communicator, which had been buzzing away in his pocket.

“Where does he keep it Scar!” Joel shrieked, clearly already losing patience with the aimlessness of it all.

“He doesn’t tell me these things,” Scar dismissed through a mouthful of bread. He was quite sure Grian kept it all in his bag or his pockets at all times so he wasn’t really worried. His offhanded tone still downplayed a lot of how much he cared. They were digging for the most important thing at their base and he didn’t even know if they’d find anything. Was there a farm? There certainly used to be. But Grian had moved it and he hadn’t shown Scar where the new one was. He’d never even intentionally shown him where the old one was, he’d just stumbled across it. Maybe there was no new one. Honestly, he didn’t think there would be but how should he know! He wasn’t an equal partner. He wasn’t let it on big important secrets because apparently, he couldn’t be trusted!

There was a series of messages he’d missed, each as gut twistingly anxiety inducing as the last.

<Grian> you want to scar?

<Smajor1995> Scar already made a deal for you both to come, so im ready when you are

<Grian> scar where are you

“How about you hide the sugarcane from Grian,” Etho called from somewhere down below, “And then he has to depend on you in the relationship!”

Scar felt his face sag with the weight of his sadness as he considered that. How Grian would be furious if he found out and Scar would break down under his anger and reveal it and then they’d both laugh about it but neither would really find it funny, too full of distrust and miscommunicated uncertainty. He wondered if that were a recent thing but he couldn’t find it in himself to be sure that it was.

“I have it on me,” Scar shrugged instead of just crying like he wanted to, “I don’t know if you guys know or not, I have it on me.”

To which Bdubs yelled, “Dig inside of Scar!” and there was a smattering of bemused laughter. Scar was already past the panda fort, off toward Scott’s base. His heart was hammering and he didn’t really know why. Because he wanted to go the relationship ranch and he wanted to talk to Grian. But what if he didn’t actually want to hear what he had to say. What if there was a reason Grian wasn’t telling him the issue and hearing it would just make everything worse. What if they just fought again and everything got worse either way. At least when he ignored it, when he didn’t bring it up and just pretended everything was fine, things felt almost normal. But since he’d tried his tact with the panda reserve, tried to rekindle their love, Grian had been avoiding him for days. He hadn’t seen him and the idea of seeing him for the first time all week and having to potentially talk about their issues was horrifying.

Because what if Scott wanted them to talk about…about third life and about…well, it didn’t bear thinking about. Let alone talking about.

“Well this is the superior ranch,” Grian announced as soon as he walked in. It made Scott beam.

“Thank youuu! We have different activities you can do with your soulmate…”

“Okay,” Grian turned back to Scott with a bewildered nod, “Well I don’t even know where my soulmate is.”

He spat the word soulmate like it was acid on his tongue. Scott again felt overwhelmingly like he couldn’t make the relationship worse.

“Let me see if I can beckon him,” Scott sighed, grabbing out his communicator. He had just about finished typing SCAR when Grian very casually spoke words he never wanted to hear.

“Oh there’s Pearl. Hey Pearl.”

Scott’s eyes snapped up as he hit send and locked eyes with his soulmate.

“Hello, hi!” she grinned, pointedly cheery toward Grian. “You want Scar’s horse?”

Scott was just watching her dog nervously as it trailed along after her, and the horse that now had a bandage around it’s leg. “Pearl, Pearl, you come back once I’m done with these two.” He insisted, not wanting to overcomplicate things for right now. If Scar turned up and saw her riding his horse, he may not be so inclined to be calm during the soulmate exercise. “And we can then, go over our issues.”

Which was not something he really wanted to do, but it would at this point be catastrophically hypocritical not to try.

Before she could respond however, Ren was suddenly at his shoulder, talking very quickly and loudly, nervousness twinging at his tone. “Hello, we’ve heard this is a great place to come to talk.”

“Oh jeez,” Scott turned to see BigB trailing dejectedly after Ren, eyes meeting Grian’s across the way and widening slightly. “There’s so many people that-” he sighed, “The ranch is kind of like one couple at a time scenario.”

“Alright.” Pearl mumbled and with a swish of the horses tail, she was gone.

Scott didn’t even really notice her, too busy explaining. “So it’s more intimate.”

But Grian watched her leave, turning back to Scott with a concerned, almost offended expression, “Ohhh Scott.”

He turned exasperatedly but then Ren drew his attention back. “We thought this was a group meeting,” he frowned, gesturing between him and BigB who was still staring at Grian who was still staring at Scott.

It was all very overwhelming.

“Your soulmate,” Grian insisted, staring in horror at Scott who tutted and rolled his eyes. He was hardly one to talk. At least Scott had made his position with Pearl very clear to her.

“Grian she’s unhinged,” he whispered conspiratorially but with annoyance twinging at his tone. Grian just laughed, staring after her. Then he turned and regarded Ren and BigB with a hardly suppressed smirk and a raised eyebrow, “Uh you- you guys is there some…trouble in paradise?”

“Yea,” BigB mumbled with a forlorn look at his soulmate but Ren spoke loudly over him, emotionally announcing, “Well, it- it’s…” he moved forward toward Scott, frowning, eyes darting around like someone might leap out of the shadows and attack him, “Do we have to book an appointment, how does this work?”

Grian and BigB exchanged smiles behind Ren’s back and then both turned curiously to Scott as if his answer was about to be the most life changing news of their life. Something was definitely going on there. He wondered if he might bring that up with either Scar or Ren. It was a possibility.

“Well, currently. It’s basically a bunch of different trust exercises that are designed for a soulbound so. I can only do one at a time.”

“Oh no these guys can go first,” Grian shrugged from where he’d sat down and was picking restlessly at the grass, “It’s alright.”

“If you want I can do you two and then Grian can come back with Scar?” he offered, glancing around at everyone.

There was a mumble of agreement and Scott couldn’t help noticing the generally awkward air about the group. What was going on?

“We just had our first fight,” Ren announced with a cringe. “So we were hoping to get some help.”

“Okay,” Scott nodded, thinking maybe he wouldn’t even have to try to split people up. They seemed to be doing it just fine on their own. “Okay. Okay. Well, Grian do you want to go find Scar?”

“Few problems huh?” Grian asked, still smirking and completely ignoring Scott who watched in bewilderment as him and BigB made furious eye contact.

There was another mumble of agreement and BigB glanced back to Ren who shrugged.

“You know, I mean. Trouble in paradise.”

“It’s fine!” Scott assured him, feeling a little evil inside as he announced, “Nothing the relationship ranch can’t help.”

Honestly, there was nothing the relationship ranch could help.

“It’s okay,” Grian shrugged, climbing to his feet and making for the door, “It happens. Not to me but...it happens.”

Ren shot him a glare then turned back to Scott who quietly thought that was very rich coming from Mr I Don't Even Know Where My Soulmate Is. BigB watched him all the way to the gate, both of them snickering until eventually they both burst out laughing. Ren and Scott were distracted by Scar, storming in from the other gate yelling, “So much freaking damage!”

Grian rolled his eyes and made back into the ranch, forcing a smile at his soulmate that made no effort to hide it’s fakeness. Scar just folded his arms and scowled.

Not to me, Ren thought mockingly, Uhuh. Sure.

Ren and BigB left very awkwardly agreeing to come back later and looking at each other in utter bewilderment, clearly unsure where they went from there.

Scott turned to his customers, Grian folding his arms and staring sulkily around and Scar restlessly tapping his cane and shooting occasional fretful glances at Grian.

He forced a smile.

“You two are the very first participants at, the relationship ranch, so welcome!”

“So what does this- what does this do?” Grian sighed sceptically, “It makes Scar and I better-” he glanced at the man beside him who’s gaze was fixed on the ground, “Better soulmates.”

Again with the way he said that word. Scott would actually probably really enjoy unpacking all their issues, untwisting them and sorting them out into neat little lines. But that wasn’t what he was here to do. He was here to twist them and knot them until they were so utterly indecipherable, they could hardly look each other in the eye. Although, he wasn’t sure how much he could do, because they seemed to be already there. Maybe he could get them to fully give up on each other and break up. That would be the ideal.

“Yes, it finds out just how in tune you are for each other.”

Grian screwed up his nose. It sounded like a bad innuendo and since he was sure that wasn’t the intention, it sounded dreadfully dull. He didn’t need to do any activities to know they weren’t at all ‘in tune for each other’. Whatever that meant. “Alright,” he scoffed.

“And see if you’re meant to be together,” Scott finished, which complicated matters for Grian.

He didn’t want to be with Scar. That much was very clear to him. But meant to be together? It was that implication again that there was some higher understanding than what they wanted. That there was some sort of fate involved. Some, namely Timmy probably, might say they were fated soulmates. But Grian knew that was bullshit. The whole soulbound thing was just another form of the Watchers control. Meant to be together, as far as he was concerned, was a lie. Nothing was ever meant to happen. It just did. For better or for worse.

In this case, very much for worse.

“So,” Scott clapped his hands together and lead them over to the first activity, “We will start with the first trust exercise called ‘goat punch’.”

Scar gasped theatrically and Grian rolled his eyes, but an affectionate smile crept onto his face. If Scar noticed, he didn’t say anything.

“So, one of you is going to be in one side with a goat, and I will release the goat and your goal is to dodge it, as not to hurt your soulmate.” Scott glanced between them throughout the explanation. Scar stared at him with rapt attention while Grian impulsively swung the gate back and forth.

“The other person has to try and trust that the other person won’t get hurt.”

“Aw that’s so nice,” Scar grinned, rushing for the side without the goat before Scott had even finished explaining. Grian was already fidgeting with the gate of the other side so he stepped in without a question. Scott thought that was rather in tune of them, but he said nothing, releasing the goat instead.

A few awkward moments passed in silence and Scott was just about to tell them they could use this time to talk when Scar piped up, “Can I quickly ask Grian where all the pain came from earlier?”

“Nope,” Grian snapped and refused to elaborate.

“You can use this time to talk if you want…” Scott tried, glancing at Grian who’s face was petulantly blank.

“Oh wonderful!” Scar came right to the edge of his gate, leaning over the edge, “Well how about this time is…Scott,” his voice dropped to a murmur and he raised his eyes pointedly, “I brought him here, you know, the horse and everything.”

“I will get you the horse after,” Scott nodded exasperatedly. They really weren’t getting the point of this, either of them.

“Okay, okay, okay!” Scar made back into his section and sighed, leaning against the wall and calling, “Quickly Grian I need my horse.”

“I don’t know how this exercise…helps.” Grian half-laughed, shaking his head bewilderedly as the goat just sidled up to him, more interested in getting patted than hurting him.

Damn Jimmy. Domesticating the stupid goats.

“It’s an exercise in trust Grian!” Scott insisted, shaking his head at the pair of them. “You know what, I’ll even add some music.” he offered, catching sight of the jukebox he’d put nearby specifically for that reason. The jukebox that he’d actually stolen from Grian and Scar but neither of them had noticed somehow.

He slid a disk in and Grian just scoffed out a laugh at the ridiculousness of it all as the soft music played around them, giving the whole thing an even weirder vibe.

“I like that,” Scar grinned, though it wasn’t helping his slightly sleepy feeling at the boringness of this whole thing.

“The goats just not interested!” Grian laughed exasperatedly, throwing his hands up and yelping as he accidently hit the goat in the face and it was suddenly charging at him. He threw himself against the wall and it headbutted the gate, taking a few staggering dizzy steps back. Scott was quietly relieved. It had been getting a little dull.

“You did it!” he cried with all the false enthusiasm he could muster.

Grian cheered but mostly just because it was over.

“You proved your ability to be able to move out the way of danger for Scar quickly!”

They both came out of their sections at the same time and Scott almost expected a celebratory hug. Instead, Grian moved straight past Scar to lean against the wall and Scar just held a hand to his heart, smiling at Scott while watching Grian out of the corner of his eye with far more concern than his tone let on.

“That’s super heart warming. I was kind of falling asleep there but I’m so happy.”

Okay, Scott definitely needed to make some improvements to the goat punch.

Grian just rolled his eyes, laughing in bewilderment, “I’m not sure how this helps our…” he paused, his expression changing into several ugly emotions too quickly to register what any of them were, eyes not leaving Scar who refused to meet his gaze, “soulbound.” He settled for finally, though it didn’t really seem like the word he was looking for.

“What do you mean?” Scott asked incredulously, while he thought ‘yeah that’s the bloody point’.

Scar just grinned up at Grian, “We’re such a- we’re such a great couple that we didn’t even need this Grian, look at us.”

Scott couldn’t even fathom how deep Scar was in denial if he genuinely thought that was true. Grian watched him as he settled himself in the low branches of one of Scott’s trees, hurt quickly turning to suspicion in his expression. He wanted to yell at Scar that they weren’t a couple. That those days were passed and he needed to accept it. But instead, he found himself turning back to Scott, who was tapping out on his communicator. He found his and Scar’s conversations turning distant as he pulled out his own and read Scott’s message. Which literally just said ‘cleo’. His mind turned a little too fast and suddenly he was reconsidering this stupid exercise. It wasn’t like Scott to waste time. No matter how unhinged she was, why would he send away his own soulmate to accommodate them. Turn away Ren and BigB who (well Ren at least) seemed far more keen than them. Why would he be asking for Cleo?

“Wait what’s going on here?” he asked slowly, carefully, watching Scott’s every expression as he turned away from him, apparently not hearing him and announcing, “So you still have two more challenges.”

“Why’re you asking for Cleo?” Grian insisted. Especially why if they still had two more challenges.

“Cos I was gonna get-”

But Scott never finished that thought because Scar interrupted him with a very casual, off-handed, not important, don’t really even need to pay attention, thought you ought to know, comment.

“Oh they’re tearing up our base by the way.”

“What?”

“WHAT?!”

“Yeah,” Scar shrugged as Grian stared at him, eyes wide, mouth open, utterly lost for words. “They’re playing moles under the- under the base. I told them to stay away from the keep…”

“Scar,” Grian groaned, immediately turning and running for the gate, as fast as his feet would carry him, ‘They’re going for the SUGARCANE!”

Grian didn’t think he’d ever, in all his life, been as furious with anyone as he was with Scar right now. How, how could he not mention that? How much time had they just wasted with Scott and his stupid goat and Scar didn’t think to mention that people were digging up their base. The whole stupid soulmate exercise was just a stupid distraction, of course it was. What if they had found it? What was Scar thinking?!

“Oh but I-” he made off after Grian, considerably slower and less panicked, “We have the sugarcane on us, remember?” he called after him and Grian actually wanted to throw him into the ravine.

“There’s a FARM SCAR!” he screamed but it turned into a sob of exasperation as soon as he stopped talking. He clenched his fists and screamed inside his mind, trying to drown out the persistently frantic beating of his heart.

“Oh there’s a- Grian!” Scar cried, still not even close to caught up, “What in the world? I thought you had it on you?”

“No, I have-” Grian gritted his teeth against his words and for a moment Scar thought he was going to calm and then his explanation turned to yelling again, “SCAR! I have one! It’s a pro- it’s- they- it’s not THAT WELL HIDDEN!”

Scar faltered, as ever not sure what to do when he was the target of Grian’s rage. “Oh, okay, um…”

He said nothing for a few moments as they ran. And aside from their thundering footfalls, and the combination of both their laboured breathing in his ears, that awkward stifled silence settled between them. The wind stung Scar’s tear-streaked face and he gulped back all the awful things he wanted to say.

He’d been trying, so, so hard. But somehow something was wrong, again. And it was his fault, again. And Grian was furious and he was crying. Again and again and again.

He was so fucking sick of Grian yelling at him.

But his soulmate seemed to have switched tack for now. Scar couldn’t decide whether to be grateful or just annoyed at how quickly the blame shifted.

“Was Scott in on that?” he snapped and everything immediately made a lot more sense to Scar. The stupid goat thing was just a distraction? Of course.

“You know he was being awfully suspicious,” Scar shook his head as the red velvet keep appeared over the hill. “And the goat wasn’t even-”

“He wasn’t-!” Grian’s mind was going far too fast to formulate a coherent thought, or to stop himself from saying the thought that had been playing around and around his mind like a broken record, “I mean that exercise in trust was nothing!”

He supposed Scott didn’t know, but his and Scar’s issue was not that they didn’t trust each other. Or if it was, it wasn’t for lack of situations where they needed to trust each other. They lived in a death game for fucks sake, did Scott not think that maybe they’d had situations before where they needed to prove they trusted each other? Well they had. And they’d been a lot more telling than a stupid goat. Grian tried desperately to push away the thoughts that flooded into his mind. Scar’s sword across his chest, his vacant stare as Bdubs drew his bow.

“I kinda fell asleep,” Scar remarked, providing a welcome cheerful relief from Grian’s spiralling thoughts.

“That- that,” he forced himself to calm and nodded along, “It felt a bit weird.”

“It did feel weird,” Scar nodded as the two of them ploughed through the trees around the panda reserve, “And as I said, I got really sleepy. And…I don’t even remember what happened.”

Scott watched Grian and Scar go with a mixture of concern and apathy that tangled into a wildly paradoxical mess. On one hand, he didn’t really care that much about sugarcane (he’d get it, one way or another) and he hadn’t really been trying to fix their relationship so he didn’t care they’d run away screaming at one another (if anything that was a good thing). On the other hand, his soulmate was over at Grian’s base right now, the one he was running to with a fierce anger and he’d spent a while on his trust exercises and it was a shame they didn’t do them.

However, that concern was quickly alleviated as Ren, and BigB a little way behind him, made over to his ranch, looking even worse than when they’d left. Ren had definitely been crying and was trying desperately to hide it with his sunglasses, BigB had the most apathetic expression Scott had ever seen anyone wear, and he made a habit of hanging out with Cleo, and neither of them would look the other in the eye.

Scott could only wonder what the fuck had happened.

“The moon sets!” Bdubs shouted, though none of the dig party knew what he was on about even as he continued nonsensically, “The moon sets at night! The moon is setting! The sun’s going down!”

“Is there something going on here that I should know about?” Grian cried, trying desperately to keep his tone and volume under control and failing miserably.

“Nope!” Bdubs assured him as the rest of the dig party began to “Ca-caw!” at each other. Grian made into his base, his anger turning to a hatred fuelled rage as he was stopped every two meters by a hole with a giant pile of dirt next to it, thoroughly abandoned. “Oh my,” he was utterly lost for words at the scene of it all. Bdubs lingering awkwardly, Cleo, carrying a shovel as they ducked around the corner. “You group of mole men!” he shrieked, storming around his base, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

All around the base, hole after hole. Just pits of half dug dirt everywhere. All the grass ripped up and destroyed. Dirt, covering everything.

Cleo just laughed as Scar jumped on board with a reason for his soulmate to yell at someone else. “Absolute thiefs Grian. They’ve stole our diamonds. They stole our- our gunpowder.”

“Look at- look at this!” Grian cried, his voice a whole octave higher in shrieking rage. He clambered down into one of the pits, his anger reaching a whole new height when he saw a tunnel, snaking out of the pit under the base. He followed it, balled fists and gritted teeth, furious at the adamant silence from the pathetic dig party. “There’s- there’s tunnels everywhere!”

He turned around the corner to find Etho with his backed pressed against the dirt wall, looking like he was bracing for death. He squeezed one eye open and gave a little apologetic laugh. Grian glared furiously. “ETHO!”

He ducked into a different tunnel and ran off with a slightly manic laugh. Grian chased him half-heartedly, shouting after him. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“We couldn’t find it,” he half-laughed half-sobbed and Grian breathed a quiet sigh of relief that he forced into a laugh. “Oh good,” he mumbled, “It’s not even that well-hidden.”

“How is it not well hidden?!” Joel cried and Grian wasn’t even the least bit surprised he was part of this. “We’ve searched everywhere!”

Grian made back up to the surface, watching the group of them flee, with much excuse making that no-one even vaguely believed. Scar argued with their bullshit as Grian just stared them down, jaw clenched and glare capable of murder despite his green name until they straggled away into the forest. He turned back furiously at the absolute wreck they’d made of the spikey fort. He noted there wasn’t a single hole anywhere near Scar’s panda reserve and was furious for a few moments that he’d somehow gotten away unscathed in this whole ordeal despite it being largely his fault. And then had an idea.

He waited until the sun set and he was absolutely sure no-one would be lingering in the forest. They surely weren’t going to risk dying over the stupid sugarcane. Then, he threw caution to the wind. He absolutely had to dig out his sugarcane and keep it in his bag. They could attack his base, but since there wasn’t a red name among them, they couldn’t attack him. Then he'd move the sugarcane farm to underneath Scar's reserve, since clearly they didn't think it would be there.

He made up to the hill, just outside the spikey fort where his farm was somewhere underneath. He honestly didn’t know exactly where. “Scar?” he called over his shoulder, his anger still settling and riling back up as he realised his soulmate wasn’t anywhere in the vicinity. Did he even care, seriously?

Then taking a hard right into panic as he heard a voice that was unmistakeably not Scar’s, though not a bad impression.

“Ooh, ooh, Grian, it’s me Scar! Where over here was it?”

“Uh- no!” he cried, whipping around in a more than slight alarm, eyes darting in the dark trees for the stalker, “It’s not around here! It’s not around here!”

He knew he’d lost any remaining control he’d had of the situation and alarm bells were going off in his head. He spotted Cleo through the trees and he was quite sure they hadn’t been the impressionist. “EVERYONE’S JUST HERE!” He threw up his hand in exasperation, so utterly furious he could do nothing to stop them. He wanted to murder every last one of them and then Scar, who had according to Cleo, set his base on fire. Though when he actually went to make sure everything was fine, he was somehow more furious to see it was just a clever distracting lie. Because he’d utterly believed Scar had accidentally set his base on fire. No doubt for a moment.

When he went back to the hill, everyone was there, grinning ear to ear.

“Get digging boys!” Etho cheered and soon there was dirt flying everywhere again. It was a clever ploy, he had to hand it to them and he’d been an idiot to think they wouldn’t hang around just because it was night because now they were digging themselves into pits at night, beating zombies away with their shovels.

“Where the heck is it?!” Joel snapped, quickly losing patience with this whole ordeal. Not that well-hidden his arse.

“You’ll never find it!” Grian threatened but Joel just climbed out of his hole and pointed his shovel at Grian’s face, “We will terraform this entire land!” and then he got digging another hole and all Grian could do was laugh at the utter ridiculousness of it all.

“How do you know it wasn’t just a ruse huh?” he tried, utterly desperate while attempting and failing miserably to disguise his desperation, to force his breaths to even out and his posture into nonchalance. As usual, he was incredibly envious of Scar, who seemed unbothered by the whole ordeal. Only there to gaze around in mild confusion for a few moments and then disappear again.

“We don’t,” Etho shrugged, climbing out of his tunnel, but it didn’t stop any of them from digging.

“Colder,” Grian mocked as he made to find another place to dig. Etho turned around with an eyebrow raised in interest and moved over in another direction instead.

“Colder.”

And another direction.

“Colder, Colder.”

Grian knew this wasn’t sustainable but even if it could just keep one person distracted for a minute, well, it was all he could do right now. Besides that, it was funny watching him spin around in confusion.

“Colder.”

“Dude it can’t always be colder!” Etho threw his hands up frustration as his soulmate cackled at him somewhere underground. “It has to be warmer sometimes!”

To which Grian just raised an eyebrow, pleased he’d gained back some control now that they were more frustrated than he was. “Colder.”

They spent most of the next half hour digging, with Joel occasionally screaming and Grian just laughing, unsure how in the name of anything his very shoddily hidden sugarcane farm had survived this long. He was surprised any of them, especially Joel, still had patience for the whole thing. He was half ready to deem them incompetent and proclaim that they’d never find it when Joel snuck up behind him and started digging down at the top of the hill.

“No, no, no.” he moved forward, wishing he could yank Joel away by his collar, but not really prepared for the fight that would ensue. And he needed to remain calm because if he got angry, or desperate, he may as well scream warmer for all of them to hear. “There’s no need.”

Joel just firmly ignored him, gripping his shovel like his life depended on it and digging furiously.

“Joel, look listen.” Grian grabbed Joel’s arm and gave a hefty sigh like this was all just too much now, not that his anxieties were rising so much as compounding. This had just gone on too long and he was frustrated. That was all. “We can make a deal,” he offered, what he was sure was the only thing Joel would be interested in. “Look, how about I sell you some sugarcane. Joel.”

Joel just pushed past him, jumping back down into his hole and digging away at the crumbling dirt. It was soft from having been dug so many times before and Joel knew it. He was almost deep enough now and Grian knew it. But there was nothing he could do.

“How about I sell you some sugarcane, how does that sound?”

Joel was still scarily quiet, not even gracing him with a retort, just shovel loads of dirt, flicking up to the surface that Grian aptly dodged. “Joel, I’ll sell you some sugarcane.” He repeated, because he didn’t know what else to do. He feared the cat was well out of the bag. He clambered down into the tunnel after Joel now, heart racing and no longer giving a single shit about nonchalance. If Joel actually did find it, his problems changed quite drastically. He pushed his way through the dirt crumbling in from the walls, but he could already see light at the end of the tunnel.

“Joel, I will SELL YOU SOME SUGARCANE!”

He burst out of the tunnel to the flooding light of his farm, the bright green tufts of his fully grown crop. And Joel, with his stupid shovel, digging up a storm. Cleo was there too, coming out of the tunnel on the other side and the whole tiny room was a flurry of dirt and shoots of sugarcane.

“JOEL I WILL SELL YOU SOME SUGARCANE!”

He tried frantically to pick up some of the shoots off the ground then swung for Joel who ducked and ran for the exit, “Run Etho run!”

Etho didn’t listen, running in. Grian, now with enough tucked in his pockets that he at least didn’t have to be worried about losing all his supply, ran to the entrance to scream after Joel.

“I SAID I WILL SELL YOU SOME SUGARCANE!”

His anger faded quickly into a bubbling resentment. It wasn’t that he wasn’t furious, because he was, fuming. As the three of them ran out, cackling to themselves, he was screaming, though he wasn’t quite sure what. But more than that, he was just resigned. Because he wasn’t even surprised anymore They’d been digging, he knew sooner or later they were bound to find it. He’d been stressed about this all day and he knew, he knew at some point this would happen. There’d be a heist and he’d be helpless to stop them.

Void, he could not wait to be red.

“I will sell you some sugarcane,” he called out, half as a joke and half just as a resigned sob.

“We don’t need any, it’s fine Grian!” Cleo called over their shoulder. Joel stopped with a smirk and dug about in his bag, “Alright, here’s some wheat.”

He dropped a few stalks of wheat that floated down miserably and settled in the dew damp grass.

Grian stared at them as though they were personally responsible for everything that had gone wrong for him. Joel just grinned and shrugged.

“This is what happens when you try to monopolise things.”

Then he ran away with the others and Grian watched them with forlorn apathy.

“I can’t have, anything nice.” He grumbled bitterly.

Though, they could have all the sugarcane they wanted, they still couldn’t have TNT.

Chapter Text

Ren and BigB hadn’t had a good week. Bdubs, the only person who was keeping track of time, was telling everyone they were now five weeks in and on the last day of the fifth week, Ren was sitting alone in a clearing while BigB angrily rode into the forest on his horse. Both were alone, in the middle of the night.

It really wasn't surprising things ended the way they did.

Ren was wondering if maybe they were only allowed three good weeks ever in their lives and now it was going downhill again because of course it was because why would the world ever let them be happy?

BigB was just wishing Ren would stop running away from all his problems and blaming everybody else.

Earlier that week, at the same midnight hour, Ren was perched high in the crooked branches of a half-felled oak tree, letting his horse munch at the grass below him. He sat quite still, his breath slow and measured. He felt oddly claustrophobic in the air thick with mist and silence, the night long since settled. A flicker of colour caught his eye in the sprawling forest below, a sharp glint of red.

His pulse quickened.

It was a hood, in the crimson colour that could only belong to a demoness. He leaned forward, eyes narrowed, tracking her movement. There was no doubt in his mind anymore. Something about her even from this distance was unnatural, sending a chill creeping up his spine.

There was something deeply wrong with Pearlescent Moon.

It must have been almost midnight by the time Martyn arrived, panting and sweating and upon closer inspection, with blood-stained sleeves and a gauze wrapped arm.

“Hello,” He called tiredly, slumping against a tree as Ren climbed down from his.

“Ah. There you are.” He raised a concerned eyebrow at the other man who waved a dismissive hand, “Sorry, I-I got back to my house and they were all just like- trapping it.”

Ren sighed and stopped a few feet away from him, not wanting to recreate their awkward moment earlier that day. “It wasn’t-” Martyn sighed, feeling Ren’s comforting presence wash over him. He put his head in his hands and rubbed aggressively at his eyes, muttering in a much more resigned tone, “It wasn’t a pleasant return.”

Martyn didn’t have the energy to keep up a pretence around Ren. To be civil or to keep up his façade of confidence. He was bloody miserable and angry and he wanted to punch some people. But Ren had seen him in far worse states than this.

“Honestly I’m sick of all of them.” He cried, pushing himself off the tree and trudging back and forth, gesticulating furiously, “Joel, Etho, Grian, Timmy, Tango…” he paused, and Ren regarded the blood on his sleeves. “Cleo.” he explained then added, “Scott!” for good measure. “All of them!” he sighed and glanced off at the moon rising into the distance, “We need Pearl to take them out.”

Ren put a gentle hand on his shoulder and he turned to frown at him. “Martyn, I gotta say,” he murmured grimly, “I’m not surprised. I literally just saw Pearl running across the land,” he glanced out into the trees where he’d seen the glint of red, “A foul wind following her.”

There was a stiff silence between them, as they stood, huddled together against the cold wind. Unsettled, their goosebumps not from the cold.

“How do you summon a demoness?” Ren asked carefully, turning around to face Martyn who’s gaze had flicked back to him only a moment ago and being startled by meeting his eyes. He turned away, letting his hand fall from his shoulder and throwing it about in a lost exasperation. The two of them had met up with really no idea where to go from there. “What is the ritual?”

“I feel like a frog,” Martyn mentioned offhandedly and Ren turned to see him holding a squirming frog up, “Is used in some capacity.”

Ren gave him a ridiculously sceptical expression and Martyn just shrugged, “I think the frog’s gonna work.”

He wasn’t entirely sure what he was supposed to do with the frog. But it seemed like the right sort of vibe to have a frog involved.

“Alright,” Ren shrugged, “Kill the frog, that should do it.”

“Hold on,” he drew a knife and skewered the frog into the ground, Ren winced and looked away and Martyn just took a step back, nodding thoughtfully to himself, “So we’ve got croak a frog, there we go.”

“Croak a frog.” Ren agreed, his eyes drifting away from the little carcass and toward the staring eyes of a large dog, sitting by the edge of the ladder up to Pearl’s little tower. “Pat a dog.”

He pointed it out to Martyn who nodded enthusiastically as he cut a branch of a nearby tree and tucked his axe back to his belt. Ren tried not to dwell on how that had been his weapon of choice for two seasons now and helped him move the wood into a circle, with the dog on one side, frowning in confusion at the whole situation and the frog on the other, staining the grass red.

“We’ve got…” Martyn struck at his flint until a spark caught into a flame, “Burn of log. Let’s see if this works hold on.” He grabbed a fallen stick and caught it alight in the fire, bringing it around to the other logs, “Croak of frog. Pat of dog. Burn of log.”

“Excellent!” Ren grinned at him and he smirked, raising his arms with a flourish, “Demoness, come from the bog!”

Ren laughed, staring at Martyn with a small smile as he mumbled, “Beautiful.”

There were a few moments where Martyn stared at him with an impulsive frown, before he could think it through to remedy it, to hide it for Ren’s sake. But Ren didn’t see it, glancing around the clearing with his own smiley confusion, “Did it work?”

Martyn grimaced, staring at the ground and shrugging, “It might take a while.”

The two of them began a rhythmic circle around the burning logs, chanting in dubious synchronisation.

“Poke the frog, pet the dog, burn the log. Croak the frog! Pet the dog! Burn the log!”

It was just as their legs began to tire, their voices faded and the fire died on the blackened crisp of the logs, that there was a flash of red in the trees, and a low voice humming in their ears. Ren’s eyes darted about but he didn’t stop chanting.

Then Pearl appeared from between the trees, aboard a mottled black and white horse, staring at the two of them in utter bewilderment, “Hey now, what’re you doing?” she jumped off her horse and ran forward as they continued chanting, “Croak the frog! Pet the dog! Burn the log!”

“No, no, no, no, no, no.” She kicked apart the logs with her thick boots so that they crumbled into ashes and smoked profusely, filling the night air around them. “What’re you saying about my dog?”

Finally the two of them stopped chanting, stepping back, eyes and throats stinging from the smoke.

“What’s going on?” she insisted, “What is this?”

“We were petting the dog,” Martyn assured her, glancing at Ren who nodded gravelly, “We were croaking the frog and we were burning to the log. To summon you.”

“To summon you, demoness,” Ren repeated, taking a step forward and throwing out his arms in a beckoning, welcoming gesture. “To this altar.”

Martyn felt ill and really wished Ren hadn’t used the word altar.

Pearl leant nonchalantly against a tree and pulled out a small silver dagger, “The yellow cap guy and the yellow glasses guy wanna summon me?” she scoffed, raising an eyebrow and pointing her dagger between the two of them

“Mhm.” Martyn nodded and Ren just shrugged, “Yeah, what’s the problem?”

Pearl smirked with a vicious glint in her eye, “That’s not how this works.”

Martyn took a decisive step forward so that him and Ren formed a sort of circle around Pearl, quietly wiping blood off her head in the reflection of the dagger. “What’s one thing we all have in common?” he announced and Ren muttered, “Yep let’s get down to business.”

Pearl’s eyes narrowed in on Martyn, silently evaluating, “I have no friends?” she answered at last, though her tone carried an accusatory sting

“Exactly!” Martyn agreed enthusiastically, completely missing her insinuation, “Neither do we.”

“Wait,” Pearl’s uncertain gaze flickered between the two of them then settled on Martyn, “No, Ren has friends though, Ren doesn’t count.”

“No!” Martyn practically cheered, clearly still giddy with enthusiasm, “Ren has been sworn off! BigB’s ditched him.”

Ren didn’t know how to feel about that. Not just that he wasn’t sure BigB had ditched him yet. He was still working off assumptions and the way Martyn said it like it was fact made him slightly uneasy. Not to mention how happy he sounded about it. Ren suddenly felt very unsure and slightly ill.

“What?” Pearl gasped as Martyn muttered, “Uhuh,” with a matter-of-fact nod.

They both turned to Ren who continued to stare at the grass like it was a window to the void, refusing to meet either of their gaze.

“Is the dog all lonely?” Pearl mocked, her eyes still glaring while her mouth twisted into a smirk, “Oh such pity. Hm?” her casually cruel sarcasm made Ren’s skin crawl but he forced himself to look up and meet the glint of evil in her eyes. “Blaming your death on me.” she snapped, though her voice was still a sickly sweet as she tilted her head in mock sympathy at him, “Such a pity.”

He was suddenly having a lot of second thoughts about whether he was doing the right thing here. He could hardly meet her gaze. There was just something so dangerous in her eyes. Something so terrifying.

“Pearl we’ve come to you with a proposition.” He declared, hoping to steer the conversation back on track. “First, I shall apologise for my actions toward you.”

“Really now, huh?” Pearl snapped, still smirking.

“They have been unfair and uncouth,” he continued, ignoring her scepticism. He wasn’t lying. Not really. Just sort of, skirting around the truth. Telling her what he needed to in order to get her on board. Nothing wrong with that. Right? He straightened and raised his voice in self-righteous enthusiasm, “And ungentlemanly!”

“And Martyn!” he turned to the other man with a solemn expression that Martyn returned with a steady frown. “Will tell you I am nothing. If I’m not a gentleman.”

Martyn bit his tongue until the pain cleared his head of any of the thoughts that began to swirl horribly. He couldn’t think about that statement, or he’d start crying. Instead, he shrugged, and nodded apathetically, “Mhm. He’s a man that’s gentle.”

Which was more of a lie and felt somehow easier.

But Pearl’s gaze had turned back to him, the smirky glare making him panic a little. “And why should I believe the one who ditched me in the first week.”

“I…” Martyn paused, thinking of Ren, and the ease with which his apologies formed themselves so perfectly, without a single excuse in sight and of Cleo, all it takes is an apology Martyn. “Would also like to apologise for my actions.”

But Martyn wasn’t Ren and he certainly wasn’t Cleo. Justification rose to his lips before he could even realise they were excuses. And Pearl was still sceptical, staring at him in annoyance and disbelief so he continued, clearing his throat with a little cough.

“It was- I was just- honestly, I was blindsided, and I was hurt. I think we were both a little bit…thrown off by…Scott and Cleo.”

Ren nodded enthusiastically, grabbing onto Martyn’s pathetic excuse, “The adrenalin was pumping and…” he sighed as Pearl rolled her eyes and shrugged. His tone dropped from its defensiveness back into his proposal “Pearl, what we’ve come to realise,” he murmured, “Is that the three of us are actually…the same.”

They all glanced around at each other, Pearl dragging herself off the tree and straightening, towering over both of them. Ren noted that she was still absent-mindedly flipping the knife in her hand. “We’re all cursed,” he insisted, “We’re all alone, we’ve all been abandoned, we’re all losers! We are the broken hearts club and I-” he took a deep breath, calming a little from his rant, “I think we should unite.”

There was a pause and Martyn and Pearl exchanged a disgruntled look as Ren took a deep breath.

“I dunno about you,” Pearl mumbled with an affronted pout, “but I’m not a loser.”

“Yeah,” Martyn scoffed in agreement, “I dunno, I would- I wouldn’t go that far.”

Ren grumbled under his breath as the two of them nodded irritably in assent against him.

“Speak for yourself,” Martyn laughed, “I would say I’m a loose cannon but not a lose-r.”

“Yeah okay, I agree with the loose cannon bit,” Pearl muttered, thinking bitterly of the first week, “Yeah, yeah that’s-”

Ren rolled his eyes at them, waving a dismissive hand, “Alright. Yes, well, you know.”

The two of them turned to him with matching expectant expressions. “However,” he continued, “I would like to, propose, a tentative truce between the three of us.”

Pearl frowned, folding her arms defensively but begrudgingly nodding. “Okayyy,”

“I mean, we need one another Pearl. You know,” he sighed at her continued scepticism, “You know, I still believe that you have a demon within you and honestly, I’d rather be aligned with a demon than any of the other fools in this game.”

Pearl nodded again, taking a step back and glancing between them. Martyn was just annoyed at Ren’s insistence on telling the truth, because if he just hadn’t said that, the deal would have been sealed but now it was up in the air again. Ren was glancing hopefully at Pearl and she was evaluating.

She did need friends after all.

“That’s okay,” she shrugged, “You’ve got a demon in you too, you’re just in denial.”

Ren laughed, though he was far from amused, it was more just relief. That they were all on the same page and Pearl was still on board.

“Do I?” Martyn piped up with a frown.

Pearl regarded him for hardly a moment before nodding blankly, “Yes you do.”

There was a decisive nod around the group and Martyn gave a defeated laugh, nodding grimly at the ground, “That’s a hard yes.”

No-one fought him on that. Martyn supposed he’d already slain his own soulmate; demon wasn’t that far a stretch.

“Does this,” Pearl paused and raised an eyebrow hopefully, eyes darting between them, “Wait, does this mean I have friends?”

“It does,” Ren nodded for a moment before frowning, “Well I-” he glanced at Martyn who was chewing his cheek. That was the idea wasn’t it? Why did Martyn look so uncertain? “I- well I-“

He expected Martyn to say something but he just frowned so Ren turned back to Pearl with a nod, “I wanna propose that we- we become friends guys. Cos we’ve all been abandoned.”

Pearl jumped excitedly, her dangerous glare and confident, guarded demeanour fading away as she enthusiastically clapped her hands. “Tilly’s gonna meet you.” She clicked at her dog “Tilly come meet my new friends!” It bounded over, wagging its tail exuberantly at Pearl. Ren knelt down, though the dog was so huge it was actually taller than him when he knelt, “HI Tilly!”

It was even more terrifying up close, to be quite honest. Matted fur and yellow teeth, eyes that gleamed with something not quite right. Just like Pearl’s.

He held out a tentative hand and she nosed it with equal uncertainty before licking it aggressively and practically bounding into Ren’s lap. She nearly knocked him off balance with the force of the affection. Pearl looked delighted.

“Oh! Okay,” She was grinning ear to ear now and practically bursting with enthusiastic energy. Ren wasn’t sure whether this was less or more terrifying than the calm collected uncaring façade of moments before. The thing was, he honestly wasn’t sure it was a façade. It seemed to him that she’d just switched up how she was feeling and acting that quickly. “I have friends now!” she cried and Martyn and Ren exchanged a glance of upmost concern as she began frantically murmuring weird nothings under her breath.

But Ren certainly felt better as he made off toward Box, lighter somehow for an alliance with who he was sure was or at least would become, the most powerful person on the server. And Martyn, of course.

God, Martyn, Martyn, Martyn. Why was it always Martyn? Why couldn’t it have been BigB? He felt like he was finally, finally, moving on. But no.

He thought of Martyn’s hand on his arm, his nodding head toward his floating house, his raised eyebrow. He’d offered Ren what, so long ago, Ren had given him. Company, and a home and a place to belong. Come stay with me, since your soulmate has abandoned you. Come find love elsewhere like your soulmate has.

But he couldn’t. He had to shake his head and he had to move away and now he was walking back toward box with tears streaming down his face, hyperventilating breaths forcing his pace to slow as the wind stung his eyes.

He was so tired of nothing making sense, of nothing being easy. Of everything being so complicated and tragic and unfortunate. He’d thought being BigB’s soulmate would be something easy. He thought he’d be happy. Like he was with Martyn what felt like a lifetime ago. But now things were just as complicated with BigB as they were with Martyn and he couldn’t love either of them like he wanted to because he couldn’t stop loving both of them.

He made it to box and  he couldn’t stop crying because for a moment, when he’d seen the mouth and the hand and the mole, he’d thought BigB might be inside waiting for him, eagerly wanting to show off his work. But instead, there was just the crushing silence again and Ren sunk to the floor, his sunglasses skidding across the stone as he abandoned them, pressing his palms into his eyes that were somehow still flooded with tears.

He couldn’t think straight, he couldn’t breathe. He just wished everything would go away and he could stop thinking about how awful and complicated everything was. He just wished for something that made sense, something real, something simple. But then he caught sight of his soul bind in front of him and started shaking with sobs again because he couldn’t have that. But he was so, so close to it. The universe had decided he only had one shot and he’d ruined it. He’d fucked it right up and he didn’t know how because he’d never meant to. He’d never meant to do anything to hurt BigB or their relationship. All he’d been doing was his best. He just- he really, really didn’t want to lose him.

Eventually, the tears ebbed and he took a deep breath, wiping his face and placing steadying hands against the floor, feeling the cold stone beneath his fingers.

“I’m sorry BigB, ” he whispered into the empty space, “I’m so sorry.”

Though he wasn’t entirely sure what he was sorry for.

He threw himself into chores instead, to try to stop thinking. He pickled fish, because they had far too much of it to eat before it went off and he swept all the dust from the corners of Box, he considered feeding the cows because they looked enthusiastic at the prospect of food as he walked past with the fish but he didn’t know if BigB had been feeding them and he didn’t want to overfeed them and that thought was so overwhelming that he refused to think about it.

BigB had spent the whole day working on Box. Ren hadn’t returned the morning after he abandoned BigB in the deep dark. Not even when BigB had been out with Grian that day and seen Martyn going back to his house. So clearly, they’d finished their little adventure but when BigB went home, Ren still wasn’t there. So he’d spent the rest of the day giving Box an ear and the next day, he’d given it a hand and also a little mole. It was quite a lot of fun, but it would be ten times funnier if Ren were around to egg him on and make his sarcastic little comments and their jokes about Box being their hideous love child. It just didn’t feel the same without him, but BigB didn’t know what else to do except carry on as normal and wait hopelessly for his soulmate to come back.

But he couldn’t bear it, he couldn’t. The waiting, the horrible hollow emptiness of Box without Ren’s loud dramatic presence to fill the space.

So, that afternoon, he made out to see if he could find Grian and instead, he found a donkey wandering astray and figured he’d find someone to adopt the donkey, since he already had a horse and the last thing him and Ren needed was more animals to neglect. He kept meaning to feed the cows but he still hadn’t. He ended up chatting with Scott and Jimmy, who was having a go at Scott and getting unfortunately in the middle of all of that. Jimmy took the donkey, yelling something about the ranch and as if everything wasn’t intense enough, BigB ended up talking to Scar.

He’d stormed up as Scott and Jimmy were fighting, yelling, “For the love of god, where is Grian?” He threw his hands up exasperatedly and got a laugh from Scott, “I’ve been in consistent pain for the last five minutes.” He turned and his eyes met BigB’s just as he said, “Where is Grian?”

It felt like a demand and BigB was suddenly so very put on the spot that when he stumbled out, “I…don’t know.” It felt like a lie. Even though it wasn’t. He hadn’t seen Grian in what must have been two days now but…well, maybe that was more recently than Scar had seen him. The thought of it made him feel awful so he pushed it away. He wasn’t about to antagonise Scar. He liked him and he cared about him; it just wasn’t his problem that his situation with Grian was…rocky. So he forced himself to be normal and turned around to his secret soulmate’s soulmate with a welcoming smile. “Scar it’s good to see you, how are you?” he gushed and Scar just sighed, shaking his head and wincing as he clutched his chest. Seriously, where was Grian?

“Do you have a horn?” he asked randomly and BigB frowned, shaking his head and mournfully murmuring, “I don’t. I wish I had one.”

Scar, without hesitation held one out, meeting BigB’s gaze with a terrifying intensity.

“No way,” BigB took it hesitantly, raising an eyebrow at Scar who just nodded at him, eyes still fixed on his, “I want sunglasses.”

BigB laughed and nodded, tucking the horn into his pocket and watching Scar turn and walk away down the hill, calling, “Also, if you know where Grian is, please let me know because I’m going to poke him! With my sword, if he doesn’t stop this.”

“Okay,” BigB laughed again, though he wasn’t at all convinced Scar was joking. He watched him thoughtfully as he harassed a rather frazzled looking Pearl, shooting her horse and wondered if he was aware of Grian’s little, side arrangement. They didn’t seem to be on good terms but they were still living together. The two of them were so odd and intense he couldn’t tell what was up with them. Was Scar threatening to stab Grian normal for them? He honestly had no idea.

He left in the end as night fell and Box gleamed on the hill up from Scott’s. He took a deep breath, hating the way it made his stomach and entire being drop to know he was going back to an empty house. That Ren wouldn’t be there, because he was off with someone he always had and always would love more than BigB.

He tried to swallow down the feeling and just felt empty and alone.

“BigB!” Ren cried as soon as the door swung open. His soulmate jumped, clinging to the doorframe as his heart leapt, “OH!" He gasped, calming slightly as he caught sight of his soulmate, standing just inside Box but panicking again as he saw his worried and hurt face and the unsteady shake to his voice as he forced enthusiasm, “Where have you been man?”

“My goodness, you scared me,” BigB laughed, shooting Ren a grin. He felt vaguely unsettled by the way Ren was still grinning, blinking at BigB like he hadn’t said anything.

“Where have you been?” he repeated, not moving, tone not changing, giving no indication that he'd heard BigB say anything.

BigB clenched his fist around the door handle. He couldn’t believe Ren’s nerve to ask where he had been. Seriously? The man who’d been away for days and home for a couple of hours thought he could have a go at BigB? For what? Finally giving up on waiting for him to come back?

He slowly closed the door behind him, noting the lock he’d changed in a fury right before he left to see Grian. And he’d left to see Grian. So how was he supposed to answer Ren?

He turned back with a shrug, “Everywhere,” he moved into the house, frowning at his soulmate, “Where have you been?”

“Dude I’ve been, I’ve been in-” he began to pace, gesticulating exasperatedly, “I’ve been cookin, I’ve been cleanin.” He turned back to BigB with a glare, “And you’re out on the town!”

BigB scoffed in offence, taking an aggressive step forward, refusing to let Ren drown him out with his yelling, “You’ve been gone so long,” he argued aggressively, though his voice was still half as loud as Ren’s, “Box has grown an arm!”

“I- oh,” Ren faltered, taking a step back and letting his shoulders slump a little, “Oh was that- is that your…” he laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, “is that you?”

“Did you not see the arm and the mouth?” BigB insisted indignantly. He’d been working on box the whole time Ren had been away; he’d been doing what they were supposed to do together. It felt like a stab to his heart that usually, probably only a week ago, it would have been the first thing Ren mentioned when he walked in the door.

“I did,” Ren cried reassuringly, “It looks amazing!”

It was such a normal interaction for them, but it felt oddly stilted in the empty walls of Box. It was such an affront to both of them that something that had felt so perfect had fallen into disarray so quickly.

“You know it said its first words…” BigB joked and Ren grinned unsurely, glancing out the window and taking a deep breath before meeting his eye, “Oh yeah.” he gave a tentative laugh, “What did box say?”

BigB closed the gap between them so that their soulbind connected in the air and they could hear one another’s unsteady breathing. He met his soulmate’s shifting gaze and muttered, “Ren.”

Then turned and marched back off toward the door, beginning to sort his things into the chests. “Ohhh!” Ren was practically jumping for joy, clutching a theatrical hand to his heart, “Oh I’m such a proud papa!”

BigB couldn’t help laughing, despite Ren having turned his accusation into a joke and for a moment everything felt normal again. Then the awkward silence settled in its place and their gaze met again.

“Dude, I gotta be honest with you man,” Ren sighed at last, “I thought you abandoned me.” He stared at BigB who stood up and stared at him, taken aback. “Never!” he cried, taking a step back and trying not to think about how he was utterly lying. He had abandoned him. But that wasn’t- well, he was always planning on coming back.

“Cos,” Ren was definitely talking through tears at this point, and pausing to disguise it, “I came to box after the uh- deep dark and there was- there was just silence in here other than these stupid horse, horse noises.” He gestured furiously at the perfectly innocent horses and BigB felt a stab of understanding. It was exactly how he’d felt when he came back. The silence pressing in on him. The not knowing, the questioning. Except deep down, he’d known, he’d known that Ren had abandoned him. There hadn’t been a doubt in his mind. Though perhaps, for whatever unjustified reason, there wasn’t one in Ren’s mind either.

“Yea,” he shrugged, forcing himself to calm, “I was probably-” He remembered Grian’s words. ‘Not even Ren. You can’t trust Ren with this.’ “Somewhere. Somewhere.” He finally met his soulmate’s gaze and forced a smile, “Nothing to worry about.”

“Yeahh,” Ren watched him with the most unsure gaze. BigB knew he should say something more, to elaborate, say he was off talking to Scott and Jimmy, who could both vouch if Ren went asking. But that really did dance the line between what was a half-truth and what was just straight up a lie. And Ren didn’t seem angry necessarily, just…sad. He could see in his eyes he was still worried about BigB, still didn’t trust his answer. But he seemed plagued with an array of emotions of his own. Guilt, BigB realised, and squinted sceptically at him.

“So,” he began with a weighed down tone that made BigB jittery with nerves, “I kinda like- went off and made an alliance.”

BigB felt a little unsure, the exact same feeling, though he didn’t know it, that Ren had felt when he first told him about the secret admirer. That wasn’t great, he didn’t like the idea of Ren having gone off and made alliances without him because that was definitely something soulmates were supposed to do together. But it wasn’t as bad as Ren’s tone might suggest which was what made him feel ill, wondering what was coming next. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. And he was pretty sure he knew exactly what that shoe was.

He frowned, and squinted questioningly at Ren, “With?”

Ren wanted to be honest with his soulmate. He really did. As open and honest as he possibly could. But somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to say Martyn. He hated himself for it because it was confirming everything he’d been denying for the past week. That spending time with Martyn, did feel like cheating. That perhaps in some way, it was.

But BigB was also being intentionally vague about his answers, why couldn’t Ren jump on that train? So he shrugged, “With the other people who’ve had their hearts broken.”

The look on BigB’s face killed him, the utter hurt and betrayal. He stared at the floor, watching it too unbearable. “We’ve started the broken hearts club.” He mumbled.

BigB didn’t know how to feel. On one hand, he couldn’t bear the thought of Ren already declaring his heart broken and running off to make other alliances instead of spending any time or effort trying to fix things. Without even talking to BigB.

On the other hand, it was better than cheating. At least he didn’t have a secret soulmate.

He fished his horn out of his pocket as Ren continued to stare at the floor and sounded it, letting it echo around the walls of box. Ren glanced up at him, his face creased with hurt, and guilt and an unspoken apology but slowly unfolding into a smile.

“That’s for the broken hearts club.”  BigB said clearly, going to tuck his horn away as Ren cheered, "Oh you got a horn!”

BigB laughed, “Yeah I did,” he held it out to show to Ren who grinned. “And guess who I got it from? Scar.”

“Really?” Ren’s gaze snapped up to meet his with a frown and BigB nodded, sliding the horn away into his pocket, “Yeah,” he laughed, “He wants- he wants sunglasses though.”

Ren had always thought it was an odd phenomenon. How in the middle of the most intense moments, humour and ridiculous side tangents seemed to take over. It alleviated the tension for a few glorious moments. And then an awkward silence settled again and Ren was frowning at the man in front of him, with no idea where to go from here.

“So yeah dude.” He began again, “I’ve- I’ve kinda joined like um- a support group. You know?”

“Oh that’s-” BigB shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal, in fact he was smiling now, as though he were…happy? Surely not. “That’s awesome.”

Apparently so. Ren was taken aback, unsure why BigB could possibly think that was a good thing but more than on board with his acceptance.

BigB had made his decision. He’d seen Pearl and Scott; he had no desire to be like them. He wanted, one way or another, to make things work with his soulmate. Even if he also made things work with Grian. If that meant accepting Ren’s weird alliance with the broken hearts people, fine. Whatever. He could have that, and BigB could have Grian and everything could still be okay between them.

“Cos…yeah.” Ren sighed. “I just- I just have a feeling in my heart that you’re gonna leave me.”

BigB shook his head, turning back to putting his things into the bag. Ren faltered, a little put off by how unbothered BigB was about the whole ordeal. “You know, I don’t wanna be like- I don’t wanna be needy you know?” he continued as BigB nodded along without so much as a frown, “Like I don’t wanna feel- I don’t want you- I don’t wanna be that needy-” Needy what? They weren’t boyfriends but soulmate didn’t quite seem to hold the weight he wanted it to. Scott and Pearl were soulmates. They were more than that. “that needy person in the relationship you know?” Close enough. He was well aware that he was rambling and he was starting to cry and he was making everything worse, but he was far too emotional to shut up, “But, like I just…”

BigB stood again, raising his voice for the first time all conversation, “I- I wouldn’t! I wouldn’t dare!” And neither of them needed to clarify what he was talking about, “I told you my secret!” he continued, the offence in his voice making Ren feel like shit, “I had a secret admirer, I told you.”

“Yeahhh,” Ren conceded, sitting on the fence of their farm with a sigh. “I guess, you can’t help if someone just- admires you, you know?”

But he still sounded unsure. Like this was somehow entirely not his fault and BigB realised he still hadn’t shared his concerns this entire fight.

“You know I thought-” he began tentatively but quickly found his anger as it boiled up inside him, “I thought you were gonna leave me for Martyn just- just when you went off on your adventure, you’d never come back.”

Ren’s head snapped up, his face a picture of offence, but guilt still glinting in his eyes, “I’m- dude!” He stood, probably just to gesticulate better, “Listen, I had to go make sure that everything was going okay with him!” BigB just folded his arms and shook his head at Ren, who continued trying to dig himself out of the hole, “I didn’t want him to die again! We saw him splat!”

BigB had no answer for that, because Ren didn’t even deny it. He didn’t even try. Again, it wasn’t a ‘no I wouldn’t leave you.’ ‘no I wasn’t abandoning you’ ‘no I don’t still love Martyn.’

But in his heart, BigB knew Ren would never say any of that. Because Ren didn’t lie.

He just told half-truths and stories until you got the picture. And BigB suddenly felt very aware that he got the picture.

He chucked his bag into the corner, still with the shoot of sugarcane tucked inside. He said nothing and Ren huffed, turning away and making up the ladder upstairs. BigB felt like crying, like breaking down into a pile on the floor. But Ren was home now, and he wouldn’t let him see the power he had to make him feel like shit.

His eye caught on the door again and he called upstairs, “Who gave you the keys, I changed the locks!”

If Ren heard, he gave no indication and as BigB climbed up to the next floor to force an answer from him, he whipped around from the cow farm and glared at him.

“Have you been feeding the cows?” he snapped, “Or have you just been out all night scalivanting? Getting up to no good out there on the town.”

BigB wanted to scream, and cry and push Ren out the window. How? How could he possibly be angry at BigB for being away when he’d been gone for days? Did he seriously want BigB to apologise for having a life outside him? Why was Ren allowed to go out for as long as he wanted and do whatever, with whoever and BigB was expected to support him. But the moment he dared go have some fun, it was some moral failing.

But he was almost immediately given his answer.

Because he didn’t scream, he didn’t cry. He didn’t even protest.

He just hung his head and sighed, mumbling, “I have not been feeding the cows. I’m sorry.”

And Ren sighed and let go of his anger and got to play the hero, the forgiving, loving boyfriend. “It’s okay. I’ll feed the cows.”

And he didn’t answer BigB’s question about the locks.

BigB hid the sugarcane in his chest in the basement while Ren fed the cows, neither of them said anything, both of them cried. Neither of them told the other.

Night fell and BigB went to bed without eating anything. He didn’t have the energy to make anything and the tension that hung in box had well and truly wiped out his appetite. And Ren was still fuming, they both were. Ren didn’t know how to restart the conversation and BigB didn’t want to.

Ren sat on the balcony, just to have a quiet place to cry. BigB shoved his face into his pillow to muffle his sobs and they both wished everything wasn’t so hard and complicated and frustrating.

Eventually, long after BigB had fallen into a fitful sleep, Ren crept to bed and shuffled himself in beside him, staring at the ceiling and letting his mind slowly numb, until he didn’t think of anything at all.

When BigB woke, Ren was sitting at the end of the bed, taking slow breaths and staring at the floor. He frowned up at BigB’s stirring and smiled tentatively, getting up and leaving the room, heading upstairs. BigB frowned, sitting up and stretching, listening to the stomping and clanging of Ren in the kitchen. His headache had returned with a passion, confusion and stress pressing at his temples. He stared at the empty sheets beside him, crinkled from where Ren had slept in them. So, he hadn’t left last night then. That was something. And he was still here this morning, though he’d left as soon as BigB woke up.

But there was that smile there for a minute.

He put his head in his hands, willing his headache and all the horrible thoughts away.

Then Ren was back, climbing back into the room with another tentative smile and a plateful of sliced bread. BigB froze, frowning at it, wondering if it was some sort of insinuation. If Ren somehow knew and this was some sort of confrontation.

Ren held it out and BigB took it carefully, trying not to think about Grian. Why should he, when he had a wonderful soulmate in front of him who had noticed he didn’t eat and brought him breakfast. That was something wonderful outside of his associations.

“Well,” Ren sighed, sitting down at the end of the bed again. “Let me tell you what’s happening alright?”

BigB watched him thoughtfully for a few moments then nodded and Ren took a deep breath.

“So, we’ve- we’ve formed, I’ve formed a little group with Martyn and Pearl.”

BigB’s stomach twisted but he forced more nods. “And here’s the thinking my friend,” he continued, meeting his eye with a softest of expressions that made BigB want to cry. “I know what you’re thinking. Pearl? What?

Which was not at all the name that had tripped him up, but he went along with Ren’s delusion. “Pearl?”

He wasn’t really surprised that the broken hearts club included Martyn. Why should he be, when Ren had made it so abundantly clear that Martyn was a priority to him, that he cared about him, that he held a place in his life BigB couldn’t fill. He didn’t have time to dwell on his resigned acceptance of this, the same resigned acceptance, he’d been so resentful of from Ren only a few days earlier, because Ren was still talking, rushing through his words, glancing nervously at BigB.

“We know wherever Pearl goes, badness, chaos and death follows. Right?”

“It’s true,” BigB nodded thoughtfully, picking at the bread, trying to ignore his distinct lack of appetite.

“If we wanna get to the end of this game, we should be following the person that has brought the most death upon this season, to date. And that is…Pearlescent Moon. Instead of fighting her, we must join her. we must worship her demoness.” Ren paused, gazing longingly at BigB who didn’t feel as nervous and fluttery as he usually did under Ren’s gaze. “And that will take us to the end.”

To the end. BigB was losing more hope every day in ‘to the end’

“Because around her, we are protected.”

BigB thought miserably that he used to think around Ren, he was protected. But he understood. He understood the way his soulmate was talking about Pearl, about the curse and the demon he was so sure about. He understood Pearl. He didn’t actually care if Ren was allied with Pearl. He cared, although rather begrudgingly accepted, that he was allied with Martyn.

But he wasn’t thinking about that right now. He was watching his soulmate gesturing insistently and grinning before catching sight of BigB’s face and dropping his grin into a sad sort of smile and giving him a pleading sort of a look.

“I like the way you think,” he muttered, shaking his head with an appreciative grin at Ren, “This is why I need you.”

He honestly wasn’t sure whether or not that was a lie.

“Exactly!” Ren cried, slapping one hand down onto the bed. “Exactly my friend. It might be madness BigB but what can I tell ya, I’ve lost my frickin marbles!” He took a deep breath and settled back a little, grabbing fistfuls of the sheet and then slowly letting it go, letting out his breath and squeezing his eyes closed. BigB watched him with a frown, wondering what was going on in his head but he had no idea. He sat up and put a reassuring hand on Ren’s arm.

“I feel like I’m all- I’m all you got right now.”

Ren thought about how gut wrenchingly horrible it was to think BigB had abandoned him. How much he couldn’t, even with Martyn by his side, find it in himself to be happy. In an odd way, his soulmate was absolutely right.

“You really are,” he grimaced, taking BigB’s hand and smiling sadly at him, “Please don’t leave me.” he blurted out before laughing just to soften the horribly manipulative feel that phrase had given that he was on the brink of tears.

BigB just smiled and pulled Ren into a reassuring hug. Ren sniffed back his tears. He hated that his soulmate seemed so calm and collected while he was a blubbering mess. But BigB just smiled reassuringly, like ever. Ren quietly thought to himself that the best thing about being with BigB was that he never felt like a burden.

The two of them got on with their day in a slightly less stifling silence for a bit. About ten minutes later, BigB finally checked the chat. He was vaguely entertained for a moment reading through Scott and Jimmy fighting for all the world to see

<SolidarityGaming> were the only ranch on the server thank you very much

<Smajor1995> Idk, I have goats

<Smajor1995> and a big R

<Smajor1995> you have neither

<SolidarityGaming> i have goats, cows, chickens and the heart and soul of a rancher

<SolidarityGaming> we don’t need a big R

<Smajor1995> you just got a big L instead

<SolidarityGaming> ima make my flint and steel

Then he saw the original message that sparked the fight and his amusement was overtaken by panic.

<Smajor1995> The Relationship Ranch is now open for business! Come with your soulmate to strengthen your bonds and become a stronger team! Located at my base!

He wondered for a moment if he should say something. If he should mention it to Ren who would almost certainly want them to go because clearly, he wanted things to work out. And BigB did too, despite everything. But…surely if the two of them went to couples therapy, Ren would realise he was cheating. Even his not particularly observant soulmate surely would notice the way he’d panic under that pressure. But if BigB didn’t mention it, maybe Ren would see it on his own and then he’d be suspicious as to why BigB hadn’t mentioned it and….no. It was easier to make things straightforward.

“So apparently,” he called over to Ren who hummed and looked up, “Scott has a…relationship ranch.”

“Oh he does?” Ren frowned, not sure how to feel about that. He wanted to work things out with BigB but the idea of sharing all their issues with Scott and letting him analyse and scrutinise their relationship, it terrified him more than he wanted to admit.

Still, he couldn’t just do nothing, and clearly they needed help so…sure, it couldn’t hurt. Right?

 BigB showed the message to Ren who frowned at them, tongue clenched between his teeth. “You can strengthen your uh soulmates together.” BigB explained before quickly clarifying, “I mean, our bond.”

“Maybe we should do that,” Ren murmured with a grimace, “Considering we just- you know,” he stared at the floor as BigB tucked his communicator away, both avoiding the other’s gaze. “Had a bit of a- we had our first fight.”

“Yeah,” BigB nodded, grabbing his jumper from where he’d abandoned it in the kitchen, “We can check it out.”

“Alright, let’s go check it out.” Ren agreed as the two of them made outside, “I mean I think we have some things to work through you know?”

And that was the truest thing either of them had said in days.

The one thing you really don’t want to see when you turn up at couples therapy, is the person your cheating with, waiting around for their partner to show up. BigB was unbelievably awkward about the whole ordeal but he was quite sure Ren didn’t even notice.

They made back to Box in such a stilted awkward silence it felt physically painful. They just sort of did chores in silence for ten minutes before Scott’s message came through telling them it was their turn. BigB told Ren to go ahead, he just had to finish what he was doing. Because what he was doing was making a little hidden sugarcane farm and he really didn’t need Ren to wander into the basement and see that before it was ready. He trailed after him, heart hammering away but forced nonchalance. He hated the paranoia building up because it felt as though he'd told a lie. Which he hadn't. Technically. But he supposed the lie of omission in this case was just as bad.

“Alright here we are,” Ren announced, although his soulmate was still coming down the hill. Scott raised an eyebrow at him curiously. He didn’t sound nearly as enthusiastic as he usually was and was wringing his hands nervously. Which he'd been doing when he came before but now he was practically shaking.

“There he is,” Scott shot him a reassuring smile, “Look at you two coming.” Breaking them up was only possible if he gained their trust first. He had to encourage them at first so that when he later was criticising them as harshly as possible, they believed him.

BigB arrived and hurried up to stand beside Ren who hardly acknowledged him.

“Sorry it took so long,” Scott sighed, “I- first day open, wasn’t expecting business to be that booming. So-”

“Well there’s clearly a lot of problems going on between people it seems,” Ren forced an unsteady smile at BigB.

“Apparently,” Scott muttered with a rather holier than thou exasperation, “See I don’t have those problems, cos I don’t live with my soulmate, erm. Me and Cleo picked based on compatibility and want rather than forced.” He paused and BigB and Ren exchanged a sceptical glance. Ren’s face was creased with concern and BigB just hummed thoughtfully. Scott cleared his throat pointedly, “But! Each to their own.”

Ren frowned as he caught sight of Pearl, peering through the fence. Her eyes widened and for a few moments, as Scott began to explain, they just stared at each other. “So, welcome to the relationship ranch.” Pearl turned and in a flash of red, she was gone. “There are three activities to trust your compatibility,” Scott continued, “And how good you are for each other.”

Ren’s nervousness was turning into fully fledged panic. His hands were beginning to shake and he was bouncing on the balls of his feet. His heartbeat was too loud in his ears to hear what Scott was talking about really.

“Okay,” he murmured, staring at his feet as the world blurred around him.

“And this will help determine whether your bonds grow stronger or you know,” he paused, glancing between them with a non-committal shrug, “If there’s other options we may consider.”

Ren didn’t like the sound of that and this whole thing was far too overwhelming when there were quite so many thoughts playing ping pong in his brain. It had all been well and good that morning when this had been a possibility. Now it was a reality and he could hardly breathe as he mumbled, “Alright. Let’s go for it.”

BigB still hadn’t said anything.

“Okay? So! We can start with, one of the more, potential slower tasks” Scott led them over to one corner where there was a little hut with two parallel corridors and little gates at the front. “Which is, goat punch!”

He began to explain and Ren didn’t hear a word because he was far too caught up in his own thoughts, in the ridiculous of all of this. He gave up on his fairly limited patience and threw his hands up in exasperation, shouting, “Can- can we just talk about the fact that BigB got a- a-” he turned to glare at his soulmate who’s brow was creased in concern. “A box of chocolates in the base today?” he turned back to Scott, rife with anger now and finding himself unable to let it go.

Scott just looked incredibly taken aback, and more than a little bewildered, “He got a box of chocolates?”

BigB gave a little confirming nod as Ren continued shouting.

“Yep and a secret admirer apparently, is- is trying to woo him away from me!” there was a startled silence that rung in Ren’s head, “Can we just- I’ll punch a goat! I’ll punch a goat” he ran up to the hut, fumbling with the gate that wouldn’t come undone and stomping around looking for the stupid goat that was nowhere to be seen, “Where’s- where’s the goat,” he whipped back around to face Scott, fists clenched and glowering, “I’ll punch the goat!”

“No, no, no, no, okay,” Scott hurried up to him and placed a steadying hand on his arm as Ren’s glower dropped into such a hurt and vulnerable expression BigB wondered if the dangerous glint in his eye had ever been there. “Can we just talk about this though?” he exclaimed, though the whine in his voice downplayed the anger in the volume.

“So, the goat is going to punch…one of you.” Scott explained carefully, “But in this time,” he assured Ren, “You will be able to use it to talk. Seeing as you’re a bit more angry Ren, you go in here.”  His reassuring hand on his arm turned steering and directed him toward the corridor on the right. Ren felt a little humiliated as Scott opened the gate without a problem and even more so at being described as angry. Angry didn’t even begin to describe the utter jumble of his thoughts and emotions and he certainly didn’t want it to describe his behaviour. Although it probably did.

“Okay,” he sighed, calmer now but still exasperated.

“And BigB you go in the side with the goat.” Scott directed, although he didn’t physically steer him like he had Ren.

“I’m not angry,” Ren insisted, “I’m just disappointed Scott. I’m just disappointed.”

Which also didn’t summarise his thoughts and feelings, but it was closer.

BigB just rolled his eyes, having watched the whole outburst in quiet annoyance, quite glad it was directed at Scott instead of him. He walked calmly toward his side of the hut, stopping to mutter to Scott, “He does this a lot.”

“I mean for the price that I’ve paid for this therapy, I don’t feel like I’m getting bang for my buck!” Ren was shouting again and BigB let himself into his corridor, rolling his eyes again as his soulmate continued, “I’m here to talk about my problems!”

BigB just laughed exasperatedly, shaking his head at Scott who frowned. He wasn’t sure why everyone seemed to think this was therapy but…sure, he could work with that. Be a really bad, manipulative therapist that wanted all his clients to split up. That was a vibe.

“Oh you’re going to be able to talk now!” he assured Ren as he launched into the explanation of goat punch. Ren frowned, entirely unsure. So BigB was dodging an angry goat…

“And what do I do?”

“You can use this time to talk about your feelings, and how much he’s hurt you.”

BigB crossed his arms and slumped against the wall, tapping his foot with impatience and eyeing the goat warily. Ren was being so dramatic about all of this, and BigB hadn’t even mentioned all the issues he had with Ren yet. Which in his opinion, far outweighed Ren’s issues that were mostly just the manifestation of his own insecurities.

“Well,” Ren began, entirely unsure how to phrase all the things once he’d started. “It makes me feel like... I’m alone. BigB.”

BigB stared at the wall Ren was on the other side of and then back to Scott, nodding thoughtfully just outside. How could Ren complain about feeling alone when he literally hadn’t been there for days? That was exactly how he had made BigB feel. And sure, the other way around for like a few hours but BigB had been feeling that way for days while Ren was off with Martyn. But he didn’t mention that, because Scott was talking to Ren and he wasn’t entirely sure he was welcome in the therapizing.

“Is it because you don’t have a secret admirer?” Scott offered, “Are you a bit jealous?”

BigB gasped, actually realising how much sense that made with all Ren’s conjecture and anger and insecurity.

Ren just hung his head, sighing and leaning against the wall, “I think that might actually be the reason. Yes.”

“Is it because BigB also doesn’t express that kind of love, to you?” Scott continued ,“So seeing someone do it to him is also making you feel unloved?” He watched his scheme work perfectly as the soulmate pair both regarded him with matching impressed expressions, BigB nodding furiously. They were surprised at how much sense he was making, at his expertise. Clearly, there were a lot of issues to exploit here and clearly, he was already making progress in doing so.

“I think that’s pretty much exactly it,” Ren mumbled, a sniffle of a sob in his voice, “I think you’ve nailed it on the head there pretty much.”

“Am I allowed to intervene in this?” BigB piped up in the silence that followed, “I’m so sorry.”

“Yes of course BigB,” Scott gave him a reassuring smile, turning to him with an encouraging gesture, “This is an open floor. So, what would you like to add to it?”

“Um,” BigB gulped, glad he couldn’t see Ren because his hurt expression would immediately discourage him. “He just lashes out sometimes. I just don’t know where it comes from.”

He held his breath waiting for his soulmate’s reaction, for Scott’s. But before anyone had the time, there was a bleat and a shooting pain in his back as he was slammed into the wall and crumpled to the floor. He yelped out as he scrambled away and Ren yelled, “Ow!”

“Ooh,” Scott grimaced at the two of them as BigB hurried out of his corridor and Ren rubbed his back frustratedly. “See it’s interesting that you chose to stand there and get hit by the goat rather than avoid.”

BigB frowned, personally thinking that wasn’t particularly fair. He’d been trying to talk about his feelings. He hadn’t seen the fricking goat and somehow it was his fault again?

Ren, apparently, was still caught up in their conversation. He met BigB’s eye, still not leaving his corridor. “My lashing out is just passion!” he shouted, passionately. “It’s just passion!”

BigB nodded exasperatedly. He already knew that. Ren was passionate about everything. The good, and the bad. But when BigB was scared of Ren’s lashing out, it didn’t help to rebrand it as 'passionate anger’.

“See we got somewhere though,” Scott opened the gate and beckoned him out, “That was the first task, we got somewhere.”

“Yeah,” Ren sighed, making out with a furtively hopeful glance at BigB, “We did get somewhere.”

The three of them all murmured in assent of that. They had gotten somewhere. Even if not all of them were sure that’s where they wanted to be. Scott felt as though he might have accidently made things better and Ren and BigB both felt like everything was falling apart.

“We learned that you’re feeling…it’s jealousy and insecurity cos Bigb doesn’t express love the same way,” he threw out an insult disguised as a therapisty judgement, just to fan the flames in the right direction. “Okay!”

“Yep.” Ren sighed, following Scott up the hill and fidgeting frustratedly with his hair. “Yeah I mean it’s more because his glasses aren’t yellow.” He shrugged, shooting a glance down at BigB who rolled his eyes. “To be honest.” He added, straightening with an offended scowl.

“Ohhh,” Scott frowned between the two of them, sure he was missing something.

“See he doesn’t communicate!” BigB cried, and though he still wasn’t even shouting, somehow, even his slightly raised voice held more weight and importance than Ren screaming for the rooftops. “I had no idea they were meant to be yellow.”

Ren balked at how utterly unfair that was. The glasses were a surprise! How was he supposed to communicate about something he had no idea was going on? But Scott was nodding like it made complete sense.

“I will say,” he mused, glancing between the two of them, “BigB has currently included part of your aesthetic onto him. Are you using anything of his?”

Ren frowned, because he hadn’t even thought of it that way. “Well…” he turned to BigB but he was focused on Scott, gesturing furiously at Ren, “He looks like Martyn!” he insisted, more enthusiastic than Ren had seen him for ages, “You see! This is what I’m talkin about.”

“See,” Scott tutted, “It does feel kind of like, you’re mad that his glasses don’t match and yet he does have ears and glasses which are a signature you thing. You haven’t done anything for him.” BigB nodded a lot at him the whole time he spoke and then he turned to Ren with folded arms and scathing scepticism.

Ren couldn’t look either of them in the eye so he stared dejectedly at the ground, “That’s very true.”

He felt awful now Scott had phrased it like that. He hadn’t even thought that maybe BigB’s surprise was something he should be reciprocating but now, damn Scott was good. Obviously it hurt BigB that he looked more like Martyn than he did like him!

Scott just clapped his hands together enthusiastically, “So!”

“I’m ashamed!” Ren cried glancing up at Scott who shrugged it off.

“It’s fine. This is what this is for.”

But Ren suddenly felt a crushing guilt and couldn’t believe he’d been so blind. “I’m a monster Scott, I’m a monster!”

“We’re going to get through it Ren.” Scott nodded, trying to keep the apathetic sarcasm from his tone but it hardly worked so he moved back to his cheery demeanour. “Okay! The next step is the human snow cone.”

The human snow cone looked quite frankly like a death trap. It was another two-sided box, this time much smaller, probably only space for one person to stand up in either side. The largely glass walls perfectly showed the glistening, if slightly dirt-stained snow in one side. BigB was pretty sure he knew exactly what was happening before Scott explained.

“One of you is going to be stood, in a snow bath and the other one is going to have a button.” He leaned inside one side to demonstrate the little lever that opened the door on the other side. Then he put a hand on both their shoulders, speaking directly to Ren at first, “You can choose to free the other person or,” he turned to BigB and raised an eyebrow, silently encouraging, “They will leave.”

He directed them both forward and they stood at the doors, “So basically, you can either trust BigB to leave before you die, or you can call it quits and use the button to get him out of the snow.”

“Okay. Alright.” Ren nodded, once again speaking for the both of them as BigB went quiet.

“So once you get in, I will shut the door.”

They stepped in and BigB immediately balked at the freezing ice against his skin, biting his tongue and pushing himself further in as the door closed behind him.

“You can also use this time to talk.” Scott added, with a rather frustrated glance between the two of them, “About your feelings.”

“Okay,” BigB mumbled, though he couldn’t see how he was supposed to hold a conversation with his brain frozen and his teeth chattering. “It’s really cold.”

“Well,” Ren began, pushing through his own shivers, “I was really sad when I got back to box and you weren’t there but then when I came back, a little bit later, box had a hand, a mouth and a mole.” He yelled, gesturing so intensely he hit the glass. Although BB’s hands were too numb to feel the pain, it looked like it hurt. “And that made me feel really good.” Ren continued as if nothing happened, “It’s a rollercoaster of emotions BigB!”

It certainly is, BigB thought bitterly.

“I- I did that for you,” he muttered and maybe it was the cold, but there were genuinely tears in his eyes as he realised that was true. He’d done it so Ren could see he cared, see he still loved him. And Ren had hardly even mentioned it. “I knew you would like if box had a hand, he explained, genuinely stifling tears at this point despite the ridiculousness of the whole situation. “So it could reach out and-and give you a hug.”

Scott was absolutely bewildered by the pair in front of him. He didn’t know what they were on about and he was rather unimpressed that they were actually getting along. This was not how this was supposed to happen. He was supposed to be making things worse not better. Clearly, he was drastically failing and he couldn’t work out why because whatever they had going on was so weird.

“Mhm,” he muttered, making no effort to hide how unimpressed he was at this point. Thankfully, Ren had his back.

“What about the mole?” he cried in less than disguised offence, “Why did you stick the slimy mole on the face? What’re you tryna say about my face?”

BigB was distantly annoyed that Ren thought Box’s face was a reflection of his face. But he wasn’t even a little surprised. He didn’t think about BigB’s significance in any other part of his life, why should he now? Box was supposed to be ugly. Had he forgotten they’d agreed upon that? He was so utterly bewildered, and the panic quickly gripping him wasn’t helping.

Ren was yelling again and distantly he could tell that was a bad thing but his brain was so overwhelmed and full of desperate thoughts. It’s cold. It’s too cold. Get out. Get out right now or you’re actually going to freeze to death. He couldn’t focus on Ren’s anger because he was too busy focusing on not dying. His entire brain consumed by survival.

He forced himself through the snow, stomping and shoving it out of his way at his teeth chattered and his whole-body shook, other than vague noises of panic and desperation, he didn’t dignify Ren with a response.

He finally made it to the door, bursting out in a cloud of powdery snow and spluttering coughs.

“Ooh,” Scott was furious, “That’s pretty good, that’s pretty good.” He was sure Ren was going to stop BigB after the disaster of the goat punch. “And Ren trusted you enough that you wouldn’t- you wouldn’t die. So, that was a good trust exercise.”

Ren made his way out and him and BigB exchanged an incredibly awkward glance. “See Ren,” Scott insisted, “You do trust him. Deep down.”

Ren looked like he was about to cry. He stared at the floor, mumbling, “It’s either that or- I just wanna die.”

“Oh.”

“Wow,” BigB mumbled, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a little bag of cookies, offering it out to his soulmate.

Scott groaned internally at how cute and considerate that was but Ren didn’t even seem to notice, too caught up in his own thoughts.

“That’s not the type of therapy I personally deal with.” Was the only response Scott could think to give. “I more just deal with relationships.”

Ren nodded, rubbing his face with his hands and straightening. He forced a smile at BigB who had tucked a cookie into Ren’s pocket and the bag back into his pocket.

“At the end of the other exercises, I will give a verdict,” Scott warned, the idea coming to him as he watched their gazes flick to him, looking for some sort of confirmation. Yes, he’d tried to help. Maybe he had helped. But that had given him power. “On whether I think your relationship can work or not.”

Ren panicked a little, gritting his teeth against the horrible pain in his heart as it began its frantic beat again. Scott hadn’t said anything about that in his advertisement! What if it he determined it couldn’t work out? What then? Was this really already too far gone?

BigB started thinking about the same thing, but with a lot less panic. The idea of not being tied to Ren, was equally terrifying and exhilarating. He’d just sort of accepted that he needed to stay with him. But…maybe he didn’t. Scott was talking like there were other options. He’d thought of Grian as an extra of sorts, an alternative to something he was stuck with. Not fully a different option. Not someone that could replace Ren.

“There’s one last task,” Scott announced, still sounding deceptively optimistic about the whole thing, given the insane pessimism of what he’d just dropped on them.

They made over to the other side of the ranch, where there was a rather sudden and unnatural cliff. BigB frowned as Scott clapped his hands excitedly, turning to face the two of them, “So! This is the trust fall-”

“BigB I’m so sorry that I didn’t put any of your stuff on me!” Ren blurted out, turning to his soulmate and taking his hands, staring at him with the most pained and forlorn expression. “I’m sorry about that. that was terrible of me, I’m so sorry.”

He was talking so fast BigB didn’t even have time to comment on how awful his first sentence sounded, just wrinkled his nose and then quickly just sighed and frowned at Ren who looked so, so apologetic it honestly hurt.

But before he could say anything, Ren was off again.

“And I’m so sorry I didn’t trust you that you would put a disgusting hand on box.”

“I-”

“I’m so sorry!”

BigB paused, just to be sure Ren was finished and then wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close as he said quietly, “I forgive you dude. I forgive you.”

It wasn’t even a question for him. Of course he did. He think he’d forgive Ren just about anything at the end of the day. Because of course he would. It was Ren.

“Look at the progress we’re making.” Scott cheered while quietly cursing both of them for being so communicative. “So! BigB, you’re gonna take this bucket of water and you’re going to go down to the bottom of the trust fall.” He nodded to the bucket sitting by the path down the hill and BigB made his way over while Scott turned to his soulmate, “Ren, is going to jump off and land here and you’re going to place the water to catch him. It’s not enough to kill him, but it will be a trust exercise of whether he will trust to catch you.”

Both of them nodded as they took their places.

“Okay. We’ll begin in three, two, one, go.”

Ren leapt, heart racing but utterly assured his soulmate would catch him, right up until the pressure buckled his knees and he slammed into his side, pain searing through his shoulder and water splashing over him, soaking him head to toe.

“Ooh,” Scott sucked in through his teeth, glancing in mock concern between the two of them, “You didn’t catch him.”

BigB immediately rushed to Ren as he stood up, wringing out his shirt, gushing, I’m- I’m sorry.”

Ren just shook his head, grinning stupidly. “You tried though. He tried, Scott! He tried!”

Scott was starting to think the actual trust exercises weren’t working at all. Why couldn’t Ren be pissed off? It was infuriating. The closest he’d gotten to turning them against each other was when they were having their own fights and he just weighed in unhelpfully. Maybe that was the best solution going forward. Well, he’d yet to give his verdict, so he’d see if that worked.

“It seemed a little bit slow, in my opinion,” he shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but his expression of concern was an odd contradiction saying it actually did matter a lot, “In my expert opinion it did-”

“It’s fine!” Ren insisted, taking BigB’s hand.

Scott just nodded indulgently, trying not to let his annoyance show. He took the bucket off BigB and glanced quizzically between them, “Okay, erm. Let me consult with my notes. If you give me two minutes, I will go and check er what the verdict is for the relationship.” He began to make up the hill, calling back down at them, “You two can discuss amongst yourselves.”

He figured he’d just give them a ‘mm it’s rocky. It’s going to take a lot of work. And maybe you should pursue other things. See how that makes you feel.’ Just to put one final nail in the coffin of their relationship.

There was an awkward silence between Ren and BigB for a few moments before Ren sighed and leant against the cliff-face, flashing his soulmate a forlorn smile. “BigB I feel like we got a lot of important things out on the table.”

“We did dude, we did.”

There had been a few moments of doubt but…BigB was starting to feel better about Ren. Now that they’d gotten those things on the table and Ren had actually apologised. He still hadn’t mentioned Martyn but, well, he was starting to think that wasn’t something he could change. Not even necessarily something he wanted to change. Ren could have Martyn and he could have Grian and they could still have each other. It could work. They could be happy. He could only hope that was what they’d proven to Scott.

“We just gotta compromise,” He sighed and Ren nodded in a quiet agreement, “I’m sorry I didn’t catch you,” he added and Ren laughed but it soon turned into another sigh.

“I’m sorry too. I’m sorry that I didn’t trust you.”

That struck a chord in BigB’s heart until he reminded himself it didn’t have to. Ren hadn’t trusted him to come back, which he had.

“It’s okay man.”

But in his heart, he knew that that wasn’t what Ren was talking about. He knew he’d been dishonest, that he was still now being dishonest. If they were going to be happy in their own way. A way that involved Martyn and Grian, that was fine. But he needed to be honest with Ren. He couldn’t find it in himself to lie to his soulmate about their situation. Not when Ren was being so honest and open and apologetic.

“I’m sorry that I formed another relationship,” Ren added and then after a moment corrected, “Or…alliance.”

Who was he kidding? It was a relationship and the only person who didn’t know that was Ren. He had his relationship with Martyn, and he was very upfront about it. He’d dropped the hints, BigB had gotten the picture. They were in a similar situation really. They both loved each other and also someone else. The difference of course, being that BigB was still lying. He stared at the floor until he couldn’t cope with the weight building up in his chest anymore so he blurted out, “I- I’m sorry I met up with the secret admirer as well. I apologise.”

There it was. The last lie, the whole situation. All cards on the table. Ren’s move.

“Okay, I’m back,” came Scott’s voice from the hill and BigB turned away from Ren, something caught in his throat that felt a little like guilt but mostly relief. “Okay he’s back.”

To Ren, their voices hardly registered. He couldn’t hear them over the noise of BigB’s words looping in his mind, like a static he couldn’t shake, couldn’t seem to stop hearing no matter how hard he tried to tune into the conversation. There was something bubbling in his chest and though he hated it, he couldn’t seem to push it down. And suddenly he was yelling.

“WHAT!?”

Scott stood frozen on the hill, glancing between the two of them with an utterly perplexed expression. BigB’s heart sunk.

“YOU MET UP WITH THE SECRET ADMIRER?”

Scott’s mouth hung open a little as his brain turned. He wasn’t sure how open their relationship was because it seemed like they had something of a polyamorous vibe going on. But Ren was yelling like he’d just been slaughtered and BigB’s face was so full of pain, Scott thought this could well be grounds for divorce.

BigB felt as though his heart had been shattered into a million pieces by Ren’s reaction but he swallowed it down and turned to him with a furtive and somewhat pleading frown, “Dude!” He took one of Ren’s arms and he pushed him off him but BigB just took another determined step toward him, looking him right in the eye, although Ren’s gaze quickly shifted, refusing to meet his. “Let’s not.” He insisted, “Please. We just made it through.”

Ren shook BigB off again, taking a step away and turning to face up the hill, “Did you hear that Scott?”

Scott shook his head mournfully, “You know that has changed my verdict.”

“That can’t-” BigB’s protest was out of his mouth before he even knew he cared as much as the desperation in his voice suggested. He ran forward, right up to Scott and shook his head at him, anguish creased in his face, “It….you’re an expert!”

Scott just sighed and shrugged, “If you were fully satisfied with Ren, you would have no desire to go to your secret admirer BigB.” He reasoned in a calm professional manner and BigB’s words tripped and fell out of his mouth like an unstoppable waterfall of thoughts.

“What if they- they came to me?”

It was all fading again for Ren, into a distant, less important state. His heart thundered in his ears, his mind was both flooding and somehow completely empty.

“I- I can’t believe you’ve done this,” he muttered, staring at his shoes because he couldn’t look at BigB, couldn’t bear looking at him. Or Scott, or either of their forlorn expressions through the haze of the tears he could feel dripping out from under his sunglasses. He felt so dazed and blindsided. He felt as though he’d finally gotten off his high horse only for BigB to kick him into the dirt. Everything felt wrong and nothing made sense because now he had to question all of BigB’s kindness, scrutinise all his words for lies. “I-” he sniffed, gulping back breaths that weren’t quite coming out right, “I need some time alone.”

He needed to not be here and he needed BigB not to follow him, nor Scott. Nor anyone.

“I was gonna say in my expert opinion I feel like you should take a break from each other.”

BigB vigorously shook his head, his desperation reaching a new level as he watched Ren fall apart, in synchronisation with his own heart tearing itself to pieces because he couldn’t help. He was the reason for this, this was his responsibility and there was nothing, nothing he could do. In the back of his mind, under all the pain, he was angry. He’d thought this would be fine! Ren had everything going on with Martyn and he, he was angry? Really?

“I’m- I need some time guys.”

Then his footfalls thundered in his ears, before he even knew what he was doing he was out of the gate and the trees were blurring past him. He stumbled through the forest, the scent of damp pine and the chattering of animals hit him like a wave, the whistling of the wind through the trees suddenly unbearably loud. His breath came in short, desperate gasps and he clutched his chest as he skidded to a stop, steadying himself against a tree and sinking to his knees for a moment. The world began to spin and he squeezed his eyes closed, pushing his palms into them until they began to buzz with pain, sharp bursts of colour and tiny little dots darting across his black vision.

He sat there for several minutes, shaking with his rapid uneven breathing now racked with sobs. He was a wreck of tears and muttered words that meant nothing at all. The world swam around him, so distant he felt as though he were all alone in the void, falling, falling.

The world crashed back into him and he gasped, his hands finding the soil underneath him, trembling against it. He inhaled a deep, albeit incredibly shaky breath of the scent of the forest around him. The sounds slowly reached his ears again and he sighed, opening his eyes to a blur of colours and shapes that slowly faded. He felt overwhelmingly empty. Like there was a hole in his chest, slowly eating away at his heart but he couldn’t feel the pain anywhere else. He wasn’t sure he could get up given how his legs were trembling so he just sat there, until the golden glow of sunset burned through the trees and he knew he had to go.

He stood shakily and took a deep breath, nodding to himself. Then suddenly felt so lost and so, so alone. He didn’t know where to go. He couldn’t go back to Box because what if, what if BigB was there and- well, he couldn’t talk to him. Not yet, not for a while at least. He hadn’t been lying to either him or Scott when he said he needed space he- Scott.

The thought found itself in his mind and he found himself wandering through the quickly pressing dark, back toward the relationship ranch.

“Oh.” Scott exclaimed.

BigB gasped.

The two of them stood, crestfallen and confused, staring after Ren until he cleared the wall and disappeared from sight. And a few moments after that.

At first, BigB felt like something had cracked inside his chest, the silence ringing louder than Ren’s shouting for once. It was the unanticipated guilt that hurt so much, wrapping itself tightly around his ribs. Maybe this was his fault. Maybe Ren was trying, maybe he should never have met up with Grian after all. His excuses still swirled around in his mind, making a desperate effort to pat out the fire of wounded confusion that Ren’s reaction had left. That look in his soulmate’s eyes- so utterly broken. Because of him.

He took a few cautious steps backwards, staring at the soaking grass like it meant more than it really did. The ache in his stomach churned with regret and he wished like nothing else that he could turn back the last few minutes. But then what? Keep lying to protect Ren, making allowances for Ren, making himself smaller so Ren would have more space to feel everything so much. There was suddenly something else, wallowing in the guilt, perhaps draining it away entirely. A strange, weightless kind of quiet. His breathing slowly steadied and he straightened his shoulders, staring at the wall where Ren had disappeared. He thought of this week, this awful trainwreck of a week. The shouting and the stressing and the sleepless nights, Ren’s absence that had felt so harrowing as he waited for him to return. Now he was gone again and he wasn’t returning and BigB didn’t feel empty. He felt light.

Like for the first time in a while, he didn’t have the weight of everything pressing down on him. Because, well. He wasn’t waiting for Ren to return. He wasn’t expecting or relying on Ren to do anything. He didn’t care!

Well, no. It wasn’t that he didn’t care. He did. But now that the storm had passed, now that the presence that had made him feel small, wrong, constantly on edge was gone…he realised he could breathe. And actually, he felt a small smile creep across his face.

“I’m so sorry BigB,” Scott sighed when he gauged the other man was ready to speak, “It was going so well.”

He didn’t mean a word of it; this was going brilliantly for him. Screw Bdubs and Impulse’s little scheme, he’d found the key. He wasn’t lying to people. He didn’t need to! People had enough issues that if he just put them under the slightest bit of pressure they snapped. Just like that. He barely had to do any homewrecking. And as if to prove his point, BigB turned to him with the biggest smile, “I feel, so free right now.”

“Wow.” Scott didn’t even know what to say. He just stood there gaping like a goldfish. How many marital issues could one couple have, dear lord.

“That fact that…he. is. gone.” BigB began to rant, holding a hand theatrically to his chest with a grin, “It’s like the biggest relief! From my shoulders.” He began to pace in his enthusiasm and Scott could do nothing but continue staring. “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe it. Okay where do I go first? Do I go to the beach? Do I go- I meannn.”

“I mean BigB,” Scott shrugged, finally regaining his train of consciousness enough to be an effective home wrecker. “I am living proof that you don’t need to stay with your soulmate. Me and Cleo have a wonderful life together. And we’re not soulmates.”

Something about calling it ‘a wonderful life together’ felt far more sentimental than he’d ever been with Cleo and it made him smile a little. He hadn’t really realised how much they meant to him.

“You’re right.” BigB nodded furiously, tossing his hands up with a wild grin, “You’re right!”

“Sometimes going out and making your own choice is what you need.”