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thedo0zyslider · 4 months

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Nothing Gold Can Stay - 10k Words

Nothing good and precious can last forever. And Scott has to learn that the hard way

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“Nature’s first green is gold,”

“ Jimmy! ” Scott laughs, the poppies falling out of where they’d be carefully placed in his hair. His husband laid halfway on top of him in the grass, having pushed him down playfully just a moment or two earlier. He’d wanted to enjoy a quick, peaceful moment before even more chaos hits them, apparently, which seemed to include tackling his husband down into a flower field playfully. Jimmy laughs along with him, leaning down to pepper soft kisses across his cheeks, his neck and even all the way up to his forehead. Scott giggles softly for a few minutes longer, before he decides he’s tired of this and wants to be the one giving the kisses instead of receiving them.

“Get off me! You big oaf!” He smiles, lightly pushing his husband off him. Jimmy lets him do so, but stays pouting the whole time, giving him those sad puppy dog eyes he’s oh so good at giving. Scott subdues that face with a quick kiss to pouting lips, and Jimmy’s mouth twists into a small smile almost instantly.

“You messed up my flowers, petal.” Scott points out gently, running his fingers over where the plants used to be in his hair. Jimmy hums a quiet apology at that, and scans the grass around the two of them, either looking for the old flowers or new ones to replace them in his husband's hair. Though since they live in a flower field, it is easier to find a newly bloomed pretty flower, and a few that are very obviously a little old and crushed.

Jimmy picks up the poppies that had fallen out once his eyes find them, doing so just as gently as he did everything else, if not gentler, sweeter. He messes with some of Scott’s hair as he tucks the flowers back into their previous spot, and pushes more blue locks out of the way once he finds new plants to adorn his husband with.

“There ya go, petal!” The blonde smiles, one of his warm hands still holding one of Scott’s cold cheeks. “We live in a flower field, I can always get you more!”

“I know. Thank you, dear.” Scott murmurs in response, Jimmy beginning to thumb circles against his skin. His husband smiles at him, smiles at how soft he goes at the slightest bit of affection. Scott beams under the warmth every single look, the warmth that every single gesture seems to hold. And once again he knows he loves this man with every inch of his soul.

Eventually, as they lounge around and do nothing productive, their positions shift, and Scott is now the one holding Jimmy. He runs his hands along his husband's features idly, admiring every bit of it. The blonde is still smiling, and every so often a small giggle slips past his lips. Each time, Scott presses a swift kiss somewhere to his face, and gets more and more fond chuckles from his beloved.

“Your eyes are so pretty, did I ever tell you that?” Scott says in the quiet, Jimmy’s face still clutched lovingly in his hands.

“No, you haven’t said it yet.” The blonde responds after a moment of thought, the sound coming out more of a hum than anything. Scott smiles at him, absolutely beaming, in a way that is normally oh so infectious for the both of them. “Well they are!” He places another peck on Jimmy’s cheek, and feels the other shift under him slightly. His husband gives him a return kiss, but there is a small frown making its way across his features. “....Even if they're yellow?” The way Jimmy asks it, the way he says the word yellow makes Scott frown in return. He says it like it is a bad thing, something to be ashamed of, and not a natural side effect of this world. Like it’s not something that everyone they know, including Scott himself, will eventually reach.

He says it like it’s a reminder that he’s running out of time, during the peaceful moment that Jimmy himself requested, and that makes Scott worry. Because it is still early in the game, and there is still plenty of time, as far as he is concerned. So he just smiles at his husband, and reassures him. With four little words he reassures him that he still has time, and even if he didn’t, that Scott would not love him any less for it.

“Even if they’re yellow.”

“Her hardest hue to hold.”

Jimmy’s eyes do not stay yellow for long however, as the very next day he goes down to red. He is caught in an explosion along with Ren and Skizzleman, one he accidentally caused when trying to diffuse a trap. One set by their oh so lovely neighbors, Scar and Grian. Or the sand hippies, as some people were calling the two.

Scott sits by his husband that evening, as Jimmy sulks in his cottage. He’d been there ever since he respawned, clearly quite upset by the day’s turn of events. The blonde hadn’t even returned to get his items, and had only acted slightly cheery when Grian and Scar came over afterwards. That was hours ago, and besides that Jimmy had only let out faint smiles at whatever joke Scott tried to crack and cheer him up with.

He’s fairly troubled by all this, Scott is. Because all the usual things that made Jimmy feel better hadn’t worked, and he’d barely touched his dinner too. The most he’d been able to do was sit there, and hope his presence was comforting. It has been an hour since their last whispered conversation, it’s getting quite late into the night, and Scott feels like a deep frown will be permanently etched into his skin as he tries to figure out what will work. This is such a unique thing to be upset by, so he’s not entirely sure what to even do without any words from his husband, without any idea of what's really going on in his birdies head.

A minute later, seemingly almost out of nowhere, a yellow wing wraps around him the quiet. Scott looks over, curious. Jimmy pulls him close, arms wrapping around his torso slowly. His frown disappears for the first time in a while, and he reaches around to ruffle his husband’s soft blonde hair best he can.

“You feeling better, sunshine?” Scott asks quietly, his voice so gentle compared to what’s going on inside his head.

“Kinda. Not really.” Jimmy mumbles into his shoulder, and Scott frowns again.

Slowly, making sure the canary’s arms are still wrapped around him, Scott turns until he is face to face with his husband. “You wanna talk about it, petal?” He asks, tone gentle. Jimmy shakes his head no . And Scott respects it, and decides to maybe distract the canary from his thoughts with ramblings of other things.

“You’re eyes, they’re still pretty.” He hums, hands cupping the blonde’s warm cheeks and his thumb tracing circles into Jimmy’s soft skin. And it is those words that seem to make his husband crack the tiniest bit.

“Even if-”

Scott cuts his husband off before he can even finish that sentence. “Even if they’re red. They’re still beautiful to me. You’re still beautiful to me.” I’m not going to leave you. Not now, not ever, even if you're red. Even if you try to stab me in the back.

Those words go unsaid, but are communicated nonetheless, because Scott has guessed that was one of his husbands worries a long time ago; when he had started to grow more…distant, physically, as a yellow life. Like he was scared he would hurt Scott, or that the latter would leave if he stayed too close.

Yeah, like hell that was ever going to happen.

It takes a moment for Jimmy to respond, but when he does it's hushed and quiet, and it sounds like he’s on the verge of crying. “ Thanks… ” Jimmy whispers, voice cracking, and Scott can’t do anything but wrap his husband into the tightest hug he thinks he can manage and hold him there.

After that all of Jimmy’s worries come out of him, like those few words had broken through an overflowing dam. He babbles into Scott’s shoulder, tears starting to fall softly down his cheeks, going on and on about how guilty he felt. How that it was his fault Ren and Skizz had died. How’d he’d probably made newly formed Dogwarts hate the both of them. How he’s mad at himself for not being careful, for dying twice in one week because he was being stupid and taking risks and making Scott worry when he shouldn’t have too.

Scott lets him ramble, until Jimmy seems to run out of horrible things to say about himself and the crying has sucked the breath from his lungs, and when it is over he starts muttering quiet reassurances. He tells his husband the truth, that everyone blamed Scar and Grian. That Martyn and Ren had blamed those two, and how he didn’t think Skizz was too upset over it. And that he thought Skizz couldn’t even hold a grudge in the first place, especially over an accident. Over a trap that most people would have failed at diffusing as well.

He tells Jimmy to stop being so harsh on himself, and that he’s going to worry no matter what the canary does and doesn’t do; especially if he keeps calling himself an idiot , or stupid , or worthless or anything of the sort.

When Scott is done speaking, Jimmy sighs into the darkness, and pushes his tear stained cheek against Scott’s chest, Much like a cat would do. “I’m worried about dying again..” He mutters the words into blue fabric that is damp from his own tears, and Scott holds his husband closer than he thinks he ever has.

“We’ll just have to be more careful, then.” He mutters, almost whispers into the others hair, for he can feel Jimmy’s breathing start to slow and lighten. And he’s glad his husband has worn himself out, for some sleep will do him so good.

Jimmy mutters his final words of the night against Scott’s chest, his voice sleepy, and the words coming off as more of a joke than anything. Something more lighthearted than their earlier conversation, perhaps. “No more hanging around Grian? Or large groups of people? Or weirdly placed items?”

“Mhmm. Unless we can’t help it, of course.” Scott smiles, and closes his eyes, listening to his husband's steady breathing as he tries to get some shut eye, to sleep though whatever remains for the night, because they are probably going to need the energy come morning.

“Her early leaf’s a flower;”

The two of them are not as careful as they said they would be. Barely two weeks later they are making a stupid decision when Ren and Martyn show up at their doorstep. Well, they don’t really show up, they more so barge into the valley like they own it, which is the first thing that inclines Scott towards building the wall that will eventually protect their home.

The two of them present a banner, the Red Banner, as Ren calls it, and ask the two of them if they would like to be allies and join the army. The offer is very threatening, with one of them being red and with an axe clearly on his person. Martyn isn’t anymore friendly, hovering around his boss like an overprotective mother. Though Ren is at least trying to be sociable, despite the color of his name.

Jimmy, apparently, does not take the offer as lightly as it was probably intended to be. He glares at Martyn, and that looks hold a million things Scott cannot fathom to understand. He looks at Martyn like he knows him, or he knows him somewhere else. And with everyone being unable to remember anything before the game, maybe Jimmy did. Maybe his husband knows Martyn better than almost anyone else here, and Scott isn’t such a fool to dismiss his sunshine’s instincts like that. Especially when his wings have started to fidget and twitch in the irritated manner they are now.

The duo offers again, and Scott asks what would be in it for him. They offer enchanting, like they haven’t been doing so all game, and like the two of them don’t have a perfectly good enchanting and brewing area set up already. When Scott doesn’t respond, they offer for a third time, a little more pushy than before, and it’s what makes his canary snap; Jimmy’s wings puffed out fully now in ever growing agitation.

“I know what’s gonna happen here, alright?!” Jimmy exclaims rather loudly, turning to face Scott and only Scott. He ignores their possible enemies in favor of facing him directly, and it's then he understands how desperate Jimmy is to get his point across, before he even really starts saying it too. “We’re gonna end up partnering up with them, you’re gonna end up on the altar— I’m gonna be looking you in the eyes and they’re gonna sacrifice you.”

The blonde looks deep into his husband's eyes as he speaks, and Scott does the same. Jimmy’s red eyes are full of anger— anger at Ren and Martyn and the stupid war they're trying to make. They are also filled with love for him, concern for him, and it makes him more inclined to believe his husband’s seemingly baseless accusation.

“And I don’t want that, alright?” Jimmy’s voice softens with those words, and so does his expression. He goes to hold Scott’s hands in his, as if begging him to agree. Like he’s trying to make his partner see sense.

And Scott takes one, fleeting glance at the two people behind them, and believes what Jimmy just said faster than he’s ever believed anything else in his life. It's the way Martyn’s eyes narrow at his husband’s words and the way his grip tightens on his sword; the one that had been idly resting against his hip the entire time. Like a threat, a threat showing what he could do to them at any moment. It’s the way that Ren cannot hide the irritated twitch of an ear and the switching of his tail and his unhappy gaze obscured by sunglasses that makes Scott believe.

He locks eyes with Martyn during that glance, and it's the moment the two have their long awaited answer. It's the moment when Scott’s expression hardens to something more off from the slightly bewildered one it had started as. He doesn’t know Ren well, neither of them do. He doesn’t know Martyn well either, not as much as Jimmy did somewhere else, and certainly not as much as Ren does right now, but he knows.

He knows how they’re like.

He knows that if Ren asked, Martyn would behead every ally they had on the same altar he’d beheaded his very own king on. Because he’d been crazy and devoted enough to break the rules and execute Ren in the first place. Because Ren had asked him to do that, and Martyn had done it despite everything .

It’s that moment that makes him look back at Jimmy, and nod. And his husband's gaze becomes relieved, relieved that they're not going to have an argument over this, that Scott believes all his worried nonsense. Then Jimmy does the stupidest thing he’s ever done, and also the bravest.

He turns, and sets the banner Ren had given them on fire.

Ren yelps in surprise, Martyn unsheathes his sword as if on instinct. Jimmy glares at them, a rare, genuine one from him, and watches the banner burn some more. Scott takes a protective step in front of his husband.

But no one attacks. Ren just growls, and motions for Martyn to put the weapon down. And as soon as the sword is back at the blonde’s side, the two are heading towards the valley’s exit, threats being yelled over their shoulders. Well mainly Ren’s shoulder, Martyn is just giving them a very effective death glare for the most part.

“You’ll regret this day, Smajor!” Ren calls, unable to hold back a snarl. “You'll regret it!”

Martyn calls out one thing, and one thing only. “Watch your back, Tim!” Martyn gives a pointed glance at Scott, before continuing on. “Especially since it’s so vulnerable now!” He emphasizes the last part, like the man next to him is any any better of a position than Jimmy is currently, and Scott wants to punch him until his knuckles hurt. Because how dare he insinuate his husband is weak , or vulnerable , or anything of the sort. How dare he look at Scott and imply he needs to protect Jimmy, that Jimmy needs to be protected in order to survive.

He knows Martyn is probably doing it to get under his skin, he knows this . But Scott still wants to punch him, or deck Ren in the face, wants to show him who the vulnerable one really is.

But he cannot do that, because he is green, it would be against the rules and put Jimmy and himself in danger, and because the two of them are gone. They have disappeared over the hill, taunts and all taken with them.

Well, there’s one enemy made today.

Beside him Jimmy waits for the whole Red Banner to burn, before putting out the fire. Scott just stands, and watches the spot where Ren and Martyn disappeared at, troubled.

Jimmy looks at him, and says nothing. He just puts an arm around Scott and holds him close. Scott leans into, head resting slightly above Jimmy’s chest, and closes his eyes for a minute. There is a new worry flooding over him, worry that they made a horrible choice, one that they couldn’t take back. Worry that Ren and whatever army he’s amassed, however big it is, will be on their doorsteps with swords and bows by morning. Worry that they are in danger.

Jimmy places what is meant to be a comforting kiss into Scott’s cyan blue hair, before resting his chin on his forehead. It is there, Scott decides he needs to gather materials to build a wall.

The next time someone shows up, it is a few days later, when Scott is building said wall. The duo this time is Scar and Grian, who respect the barrier he is making, and wait outside it until they are noticed. Even when the couple walks over, they do not step a single foot into the valley until they are invited into it. Scott knows it’s just being done to gain their trust, but he appreciates the respect nonetheless.

“Scott, Timmy!” Scar greets them, Scott noticing how he’s picked up on Grian’s nickname for the canary beside him. “How are you two doing on this fine day?” Grian is standing close to him, another thing Scott notices, and looks like he’s trying to hold the red name’s hand just a little.

“We’re doing well!” Jimmy smiles, wrapping a warm arm around Scott and pulling him close to his chest. “How have you two been?” Scott says nothing, just leans his head against Jimmy’s fuzzy sweater and watches the duo in front of them with undisguised curiosity.

“We’ve been doing splendidly!” Scar responds cheerfully, in the voice he uses only when he’s trying to sell something. Scott’s only heard it a few times, but it’s a noticeable enough difference in his opinion. Or maybe that’s just his “crazy good hearing” , as Jimmy calls it, kicking in again, courtesy of his more pointed ears.

Scar continued without hesitation, voice just as cheery. “We came to visit your lovely, lovely little valley here because someone has an offer to make you!” His red gaze flicks to Grian as he speaks, who seems to be hiding something behind his back.

“Well then,” Scott speaks up, noting that one of Jimmy’s wings has wrapped around him as well. He doesn’t know if it’s a casual or a protective thing, but figures either option isn’t a bad one. “What’s you offer?”

“We want to make an alliance with you. An alliance against the Red Army.” Both of them go still at Grian’s words, and Scott has to keep himself from sparing a glance at Jimmy in favor of keeping his eyes focused on the duo in front of them.

“And what’s in it for us?” He asks, voice tentative as he decides to hear the two out.

“Protection, access to our creeper farm, and this. ” On the last word, Grian pulls out a bucket. At first glance it seems like a regular old bucket of water, but on closer inspection Scott can see something swimming around inside. Something yellow and pointy looking.

“I got two of them from a wandering trader,” The avian in front of them explains, handing the bucket of pufferish to them. “We have the other back at our base. It could be a….symbol of our allyship?”

It’s a good offer, really it is. Scott feels his husband's wing twitch, with interest rather than annoyance this time, and gets the feeling that Jimmy has the same general idea as him. But he wants to make sure before deciding anything.

Scott glances at Jimmy for his approval, since the two in front of them had been the reason he turned red. The last alliance had been up to his say in the end, so he was leaving this one up to Jimmy. He still trusted his husband’s judgment wholeheartedly after all, and knew it was returned all the same.

Jimmy takes a moment to consider, then gives his husband a small nod. Scott smiles at that, and slowly takes the bucket of pufferfish out of Grian’s hands and into his own.

“You have a deal!” He smiles, and lends a hand out. Grian grabs it with a toothy looking grin, and shakes it rather vigorously. The two of them giggle at that, as Scott has to stop himself from dropping the poor pufferfish out of the bucket and killing their alliance symbol entirely. Beside them Jimmy and Scar do the same, though much less violently than their partners do.

It’s when the two turn to leave that things go a bit strange. Scar goes on his merry way after the two groups exchange their goodbye, assuming that Grian is behind him. But the avian stands there stiffly, watching, until his ally is out of hearing range. One of them goes to ask the sandy haired avian what the matter is, when he moves like lightning.

Grian zones in on Scott, and grabs him firmly by the shoulders before Jimmy can move to intercept him. He's a little startled, but doesn't have time to pull the avian away before he starts speaking somewhat frantically.

“Don’t trust him!” Grian says, voice desperate and his grip on Scott’s shoulder hard enough to hurt. Which it is currently doing, by the way. There’s going to be a nasty bruise where the other’s claw -like nails are currently digging in.

“Who, Scar!?” Scott asks, winching at the tight hold on his shoulders. Jimmy makes a sound beside him, and fails to pull Grian off of his husband.

“Yes, Scar! Don’t trust him!” The parrot is desperate as he speaks, and there is some kind of desperate emotion in his eyes that Scott can’t quite place. Maybe it’s fear. “He’s going to kill everyone!”

“Grian?” Scar’s voice rings out before any of them can say anything, and the little avian promptly lets go of his shoulders, the whole exchange having gone far too fast for Scott’s brain to process anything

“Coming, Scar!” The tone Grian uses to respond to his ally is so cheery, so different from the one he’d had just moments before, and Scott has to wonder what exactly is going on in that desert.

Grian gives them one last meaningful glance after that, and then the two are gone. Scott leans against Jimmy once more, after they name their little gift the pufferish of peace and have a good laugh about it, feeling just as apprehensive and as horrible as he did when Ren and Martyn had left a few days prior.

“But only so an hour.”

They are with Scar and Grian in the desert, one of the next times they see the two, waiting for the plan they have made to finally be set in motion. According to Grian, who Scott is currently standing next too, they have maybe an hour. He’s not sure how the little bird knows that, but he’ll take his word for it. The desert has always known more about this war than the valley ever did, after all. In part because they helped start it, but that was besides the point for now.

The four of them move around, conversations being slipped between them casually and yelled across the dunes. Their two new allies had come up with a plan, and had invited the neighboring couple over to help. Scott and Jimmy weren’t ones for much violence, but they came over anyway, to do good on their alliance. Besides, it was a pretty good plan, Scott thought so anyway.

He and Grian were walking around, finishing up the finishing touches. Their partners were several feet behind them, by the bunker the two desert dwellers had built before they’d sent out the invitation. Scott liked that the two had come prepared when they presented the offer. He finished filling another hole with sand as he thought that, and turned to look over the pale yellow dunes. Aside from the remains of Monopoly Mountain in the distance, you can hardly tell there is anything wrong with the desert. You can hardly tell that there’s something currently amiss below their very feet. It’s both terrifying and exciting all at once.

Laying hidden under the sand there is TNT, and around the bunker Scar and Jimmy reside in there is a moat of lava, similarly disguised and ready to be activated at a button press. This is the plan Grian had proposed to them. The Bunker plan. The destruction of the desert, destruction they're going to lure their enemies right into, even at the risk of all four of their lives.

They are going to take out Dogwarts. They have set what is left of the desert to blow. And Scott can see the grief on its owner’s faces as clear as day. Rather selfishly, he is glad they are blowing up the already destroyed desert, and not his home, his beloved little flower valley that lays just over the hill. He hopes the fighting won’t ever reach that far. (He knows that is a foolish, unattainable hope, for their wall had already been burned because of nothing but pure red life instinct. But it was just the wall, so they can rebuild. They can always rebuild.)

He spares a glance at his communicator, and briefly wonders if he should shoot Cleo a message. Or Joel maybe. Just in case they need back up. After a moment Scott decides against it, fairly confident that Joel and the Crastle will come running if any death messages pop up. Neither of them live that far away, after all.

Grian is beside him suddenly, hands collapsed behind his back. Scott startles a little when the avian appears in his peripheral vision. “You seem nervous.” His ally notes, sharp eyes scanning over Scott's whole being. They’ve been friends for weeks now, and he still manages to be unsettled by the man beside him somehow. (It's probably the bloodlust in Grian’s eye, one that a green life should not have, one that he’s gotten by being around Scar so much. Or maybe Grian’s just like that normally. He wouldn't remember if he was, anyways, no one would.)

“How can you not be?” Scott asks, his gaze falling back to the bunker again. His gaze lands on the form of Jimmy for what feels like the millionth time, and he makes a mental note to steal one last kiss before the fighting starts.

Grian’s eyes follow Scott’s own. “I am.” He says, wing twitching behind him.

“You don’t show it.” Scott responds, his own eyes studying Grian this time. The avian doesn’t so much as shiver under his gaze. Which means he’s less intimating, or Grian just very good at hiding his fears. The second option seems far more likely. (Not to boost his own ego, but Scott is very aware of his skills and how good they reportedly are.)

Grian smiles when he next responds, and his ally is relieved that he seems to be showing emotion again. Other than bloodlust, which isn’t a fun emotion in the slightest. “I know.”

Scott hums, and decides to ask something he’s been curious about for a while. Since they’re both just standing there, being useless after all. “What is Scar to you, anyways? Since we seem to be done with our preparations.” He fights a rather impish smile off his face when he’s done speaking, and waits curiously for the avain’s reaction.

“Why…why do you ask?” It takes a minute for the words to process in Grian’s head, but once they do his friend stiffens ever so slightly. He also turns a light shade of pink, which is much more noticeable than his freezing up.

“Just wonderin’, have been for a while now.” Scott shrugs, and lets his honest answer slip out. He has a feeling lying to Grian about anything was a decently bad idea. “Kinda just assumed you were husbands, with how close you two always were.”

The avian narrows his eyes, and lets out a small, knowing sigh. “We act like you and Tim, don’t we?’

Scott finally lets his cheeky little smile slip out. “Yep, just a little. Cleo seems to think so anyways.” Grian just groans in response, and buries his very red face in his hands. The feathers on the side of his face curl inward as well, a sign that his friend is thoroughly embarrassed.

“You love him, don’t you?” Scott laughs, giving Grian a playful nudge. He’s glad for the pair, really, he is. The two of them are adorable together, them and their little crushes. (But not as cute as him and Jimmy, no that’s not possible)

“ Maybe. ” Grian manages out, his voice muffled by his hands still. He removes his face from them soon after, and takes a deep breath as the cool wind hits both their faces. If the wind whips up sand as well, Grian is way too used to it to care anymore. And Scott, well, he doesn’t like having sand everywhere on him, but he can deal with it for now he supposes. At least until the plan is done.

“Does he feel the same?” Scott asks another question, even though the answer to that one seems quite obvious to both of them.

“ Yeah …obviously.” Grian said, glaring at him best he could manage. There wasn’t much menace behind that look, and his voice was far too fond to convey anything other than affection. Affection for that klutzy, forever shirtless red name behind them, still crouching in the bunker. The bunker that will soon be his and Jimmy’s lifeline, if all goes well.

“Well, since you asked about my love life.” Grian says, teasingly, returning the earlier nudge his ally had given him. “What’s Timmy to you?”

Scott answers instantly, the words spilling out of him without thought. “He’s my world.” His tone goes soft suddenly, it goes genuine as well, and he can’t help but spare another glance in his sunshine's direction.

Grian snorts in response, light amusement dancing in his bird-like eyes.. “Figured you’d respond like that.”

“Then why’d you ask?” Scott says, absentmindedly fiddling with the poppies still placed in his hair. He knows the avian beside him sees, and hears his amused snort over it, but he doesn’t care much. For he loves the flowers, and the man who gave them to him. Besides messing with them has become an entirely unconscious thing he does, it’s not like Scott can just stop doing it, now can he?

“Because I can.” Grian gives his own cheeky smile in response, mirroring Scotts earlier expression, and they both divulge into a small fit of giggles. The avian’s wing puff out a bit, in what has to be joy, and Scott is glad. He’s so glad they’re bonding and laughing, because he has no idea what’s going to happen within the next hour. Has no idea which of them will be alive once the plan is done.

Once they’re done laughing like school girls, Jimmy is waving them over. Scott smiles once he sees that, and grabs Grian by the arm lightly. The avian squawks in protest as he is dragged over, yelling that he can walk for himself. Scott laughs, and doesn’t let go until they're all the way to the bunker again.

He remembers that kiss he wanted to get, and figures now is as good a time as any to do so. Before the hour was up, while all four of them still had time.

“Then leaf subsides to leaf.”

When the hour finally comes, it goes horribly. Because the explosion kills no one, and the lava backfires, and there is now an entire army against the four of them. Scar and Jimmy are doing what they can from their bunker, but they have to stay in there, or someone will get the kill on them. Scott and Grian are out in a newly exploded desert, separated, and they fight and dodge arrows and try to at least kill one of their enemies. Ren or Martyn preferably, but that is not happening today.

Scott is sandwiched between Martyn himself and Etho when everything goes horribly, though Etho doesn't seem to be trying as hard as the blonde does. Things still go horribly regardless, because this plan was going terribly and they were all going to die in this stupid desert probably.

He dodges another swing from a sword, then turns his head back to the bunker, something in his body telling him to run to it; that something is wrong and he needs to go . He sees that Skizz is firing at it and something in him screams that he needs to go protect Jimmy and Martyn isn’t fucking letting him-

An arrow flies through the air, silent yet deadly, towards a figure with blonde hair that is catching the retreating sun. It’s the worst thing Scott thinks he’s ever seen. The bunker didn’t prevent anything.

There is a ding and buzz from his communicator, still buried in his back pocket.

Scott thinks he screams.

He doesn’t scream for long though, because Martyn takes the moment as an opportunity to get the few final strikes in. Grian is slain just a few seconds before him, which does nothing to help the blind panic that is starting to consume him whole. Scar is the only one unharmed, and he is left alone in that battlefield, and Scott doesn’t even want to think about where Jimmy might be until he can see his husband's face again.

Him and Grian meet up after respawning, both absolutely frantic. All the words exchanged between them are worried and scrambling. They confirm each other are okay, and then it is a frantic search in the night for Scar. For Scar and for Jimmy.

It is not a very long search, thankfully, or maybe unfortunately, because only one of their partners soon emerges from the trees.

Scar comes into view, and Scott reaches him before Grian can pull the taller into a hug like he so clearly wants to do. He runs over, almost crashing into the red lives’ chest as he grabs his shoulders and holds them, holding them tight enough to hurt and bruise and break something like Grian had first done to him when they had originally sealed this goddamned alliance.

“Scar,” Scott asks, his voice quick and panicked and his eyes wide with fear. “Where’s Jimmy? Where is he, Scar, where is he? ” He’s alive, injured somewhere, he has to be . That chat message wasn’t real, it couldn't be, it couldn’t—

Scar’s face shifts into an expression of sadness, of loss, and Scott’s world starts to stop. What his friend says next shatters it entirely. “He’s gone, I…watched him go…” Scar’s voice is gentle as he speaks, as if it will lessen the way it warps Scott’s entire world. It doesn’t.

His grip on Scar’s shoulders loosen, and Scott doesn't even know his legs have given out until he feels the taller catch him, even then he barely registers it. Scar and Grian just light up the area, lower him to the ground, and sit pressed against his sides for as long as he needs it.

Scott doesn’t cry much, until Grian wraps a wing around him comfortingly, like Jimmy would always do, and then it is like someone has opened a floodgate. And he is crying and hyperventilating and he can’t fucking breath . He doesn’t even want to breathe because Jimmy is gone , his husband is dead and he couldn't save him. His husband is dead after he’d said they’d be careful, his sunshine is gone and dead and it is the Red Army’s fault. Someone-

Someone on that battlefield killed his husband.

Scott lifts his head, doing so shakily because he's made himself lightheaded from all the waterworks. “Who killed him? Who did it?” In the back of his mind he knows, from that small glimpse of the death message he’d managed to catch, but he asks anyway. He wants to hear someone else say it, to know he is not wrong, he wants that person's name said aloud with the lines of they killed Jimmy and we are going to make them pay.

“...It was Skizz…” Scar mutters, and something in Scott hardens.

He has an enemy now, a real one. Not an enemy over some dumb banner burning, but an enemy who stole his sunshine.

After that he stands, and says they need to go back. Scar and Grian say nothing, just follow their ally, their friend, as he leads a somber walk back to their home

The Red Army is still occupying the desert when they get there, looting their stuff. And Scott picks up the pace as soon as he realizes, because they are not looting his husband's stuff . Heads turn as his footsteps crunch into the sand, but no one attacks. The Army just watches as the trio silently approaches. There is a somber air around them, one slightly tinged with anger, and Scott can see Impulse and a few of his allies shifting in discomfort once they are in range of it.

“Where do you think you’re going!?” Martyn calls. “To the bunker? So you can get more TNT to blow us up with!?” He is met with stony silence from all of them, and that seems to catch the blonde off guard, because all three of their enemies are the type to reply with something witty, or rude even. And Scott would do the latter, if it felt like he wasn’t being choked by his emotions and his tongue wasn’t locked to the roof of his mouth in grief.

“You’re going to let him pass.” Grian says after a moment, wings twitching in slight agitation. Scar stands behind his partner, silent and with the most threatening aura Scott has ever felt from his red named friend. Which is damn well impressive, because Scar has been downright terrifying for over half the game so far.

“ Why? ” Ren asks, sword ready at his side. Like he is going to use it any more tonight.

“Jimmy is dead in the bunker, that’s why.” Silence falls as Grian speaks for him again. Scott says nothing still, just glares pointed daggers at Skizz. They all know Jimmy is back there, probably, considering that they have started looting, and they are going to be damned if they do not let him through.

“And why should we?” Martyn challenges, standing beside Ren as he always is, a sight Scott is now learning to hate as much as the two people beside him do. Ren glances at him, and he sure hopes it's a disappointed one. Because letting a man not get his husband’s body is pretty fucked up, even for these guys.

“You don’t own the damned desert, Martyn. Get off your high horse and let us pass.” Grian spats, venom icing his tone. His sword is out now, the avian’s fingers fiddling with the handle. It’s clear that if this continues on any longer Grian will be attacking them; even if it is stupid and will probably get him killed.

Scar backs his partner up, his own sword now in his hand and matching the Red King across from them. “Who's sand do you think you're standing on right now?” He is met with no response, for whatever reason, and their enemies do not move either. Scott is going to have to make them move then, one way or another.

“Who’s husband do you think is dead behind you?” He speaks into the surrounding silence, voice more raspy than he’d expected it to be. A very clear indicator that he’d probably been crying, if his slightly puffy eyes hadn’t already been enough. The whole world seems to freeze with those words, and Martyn backs down.

“Let them pass, for god’s sake!” Skizz mutters, and drags his King and the Hand off to the side with the rest of them, who let them be moved easily. Scott doesn’t even give him a thanks, or any sort of acknowledgement as he walks forward.

When he passes Ren, Scott speaks again, for the final time that night in fact. “Remember how you said I’d regret that day? Well I do.” The Red King responds with nothing, but his ears are perked with what has to be intrigue.

“I regret not killing you when I had the chance.”

Someone, Martyn probably, tries to get in front of him. Tries to attack him mostly likely, but Scott doesn’t care. He just shoves his way past, and walks towards the bunker. The only footsteps behind him after that are the familiar, distinctive ones of Grian and Scar. The Red Army decides to leave before they emerge from the bunker for the final time.

He carries Jimmy’s body back home and buries it atop the hill in the flower valley. He places down a headstone as well, and spends hours engraving a few words into the smooth, cold cobblestone. Words that mean everything, yet couldn’t describe everything inside him all at once. Nothing can.

Here lies Jimmy, beloved husband.

Scott reads those words, places a poppy in the grass atop the grave, and goes to visit where the pufferish of peace once stayed. Before Martyn and Ren had fucking stolen it, like they were trying to take everything he cared about.

“So Eden sank to grief,”

Scott spent the next few days, weeks even, hell the rest of the goddam game probably, in a fog of grief. A never ending fog, one that would never leave, no matter what he did to ease it. It never lessened or wavered for even a second, always persistent. Like a new constant in his life, just one that wasn’t the most welcomed.

The valley feels lifeless and empty, now that only one person inhabits it. A house lies unlived in and unkempt right across from his, a house that Scott can barely stomach to look at most of the time. Looking at it just makes his fog even worse, and so does thinking about it. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to enter that house ever again, even if part of him does want to make sure its in good condition. A condition Jim—his sunshine would’ve liked.

Sometimes even saying his name hurts too much, so sunshine and petal will have to do. They never lessen the fog either, none of those words do. Everything seems to make it worse.

No one really visits after the battle in the desert, and he only sees people in passing. Only sees glimpses of them walking by in the woods, or small run ins when he himself needs to leave his home for something. And being alone so much gives him plenty of time to think, especially about certain people and how he feels about them. About a certain army and a certain soldier in particular. The one that took his sunshine away.

Scott looks at Skizz and wants to splatter his blood across the sand. He wants to tear him limb from limb until even the Red Army cannot fucking recognize his corpse anymore. He doesn’t know if it’s the yellow life, the grief, or if he is just becoming a red name early like Grian had. Not that he cares or minds whatever the reason is at all.

He has never felt like that, even when Joel had burned their beloved wall, even when anyone else in the world had harmed them, he had never felt an urge so violent. It’s terrifying, if he thinks about it too hard. It’s what grief can do to a person, even one who used to be as peaceful as Scott once was.

It’s what grief can do to anyone. And right now it’s fucking beautiful.

And Scott is going to lean into it. He is going to make sure people pay for what they took from him. Because he didn’t deserve this. Jimmy didn’t deserve it. They didn't deserve this. Jimmy had been lovely, he had been sunshine itself, he had never wronged anyone past maybe being a mild annoyance. And he was dead. The war killed him, they killed him. Skizz killed him.

And the army was going to fucking pay, because Scott was going to let his anger and his grief consume him until even Cleo, his future widowed ally, couldn’t recognize him anymore. He’s not even sure Jimmy would either, but that’s okay, because this is all for him.

He doesn’t think of what Jimmy would want, doesn’t think of how he would want him to live, how he knows he would, because it does not matter. Because they are all going to die anyway, and Scott is going to go out fighting for the one thing he ever had in this world, even if the said thing is long gone.

He is going to make them pay for what they did to them. But he will have to wait for that, because the days pass slowly, and unless an ally needs him, he rarely leaves the valley nowadays. And the only visits he gets after the bunker are ones of pity and sorrow. If he gets any at all anymore.

Yet before the visits start to slowly roll in, Scott croches in front of his husband's grave for what must be the millionth time already. He ghosts his hands over the flowers that had been laying there a while, before placing some new, fresher ones down alongside them. He placed poppies into the grass this time, as he always did. But today Scott added a few tulips as well. He placed a small bouquet of them, of all the ones he could find nearby; the red, orange, pink and white ones that had always surrounded their home. Jimmy had always said he was quite fond of the tulips as well, even if the poppy was their flower in the end.

To his delight, plenty of more flowers would be added to the grave in the coming days. Ones that his petal would’ve adored, he just knows it. Especially since they were such considerate and heartfelt gifts.

Grian and Scar are the first to come and visit after the bunker. They are the only ones to see Jimmy’s grave as well. They come over, Grian clutching a bouquet in his hands and Scar having a comforting arm wrapped around the avian's shoulder.

They are holding a bouquet of lilacs and poppies.

Scott smiles, says they’re beautiful that he would’ve loved them, and leaves his friends to the hill where his husband is buried. The two of them barely speak a word during the visit, and Scott does not mind at all, because it feels like he can barely speak himself these days.

They set the flowers down in front of the tombstone, and sit in front of it for hours in mourning.

He can sense that they feel responsible for what happened, as he did die in their bunker after all. However Scott does not blame them. For there is one group and one man alone he blames, and will not stop blaming until he too is buried in the ground. If he ever gets the luxury. So he sits beside his bestest allies and shares his grief with the only two people who could possibly begin to understand it.

It is not enough. It will never be enough.

The next one to visit is Joel. It is a quick, awkward visit, but Scott doesn’t mind. He appreciates the sentiment regardless. Especially from Joel. It means a lot that someone like him would go out of his way to do this. They had never been on the best of terms, after all, with the whole wall burning incident and everything.

The brunette stands at the entrance of the wall, his pose unsure. Which is a little unusual, because Joel is sure of himself most of the time. At least he pretends to be. In his hands are a small bouquet of flowers, pink and large ones, with a messy tied ribbon wrapped around the stems. The bouquet was one of peonies, flowers that were.’t by the other's house, if Scott recalled correctly. Meaning he must’ve gone out of his way to find some unique flowers. Ones that they weren’t likely to have in the flower valley. That was…so surprisingly sweet of him. And considerate.

“Here,” Joel says, a little awkward. “For Jim.” He holds the flowers out, his grip seemingly iron tight on the plants, and Scott reaches out to take them. He holds the poor flowers more gently than Joel does, and smiles at him softly. The brunette tries to return said smile, but it comes out rather unsure still, just like the rest of his behavior was. He can still appreciate the sentiment regardless.

“Thank you.” Scott says, and turns away. He gestures for Joel to follow him. The shorter man does so, if only a little reluctantly. The two of them walk silently, Scott in front and Joel a few paces behind him, walking through the ever growing fields of flowers. One of the few well kept parts of the valley nowadays. They walk together, all the way to the top of the hill. Right where the grave rests.

Scott crouches down, setting the flowers next to the now days old tulips. Joel goes to stand beside him for the first time all day, and crouches down as well. Scott backs away, and decides to leave him to it. The brunette is not there for long, muttering quiet words and condolences for a few minutes. He sits there in silence for a little while after that, and Scott can only wonder what is running through that man's head as he does so. Then he quietly waves goodbye, and Scott lets him slip back away into the forest; more than content with his quiet respectfulness and mourning. That seems to be his way of grieving, after all, and they are not particularly close.

He goes to tend to some flowers, and slowly waits for more people to flow in. When and if they do, though it seems like more are planning on doing so. And he is proven right in the coming days, and from what he already might’ve known beforehand.

Cleo was going to stop by at some point, she’d said, to give him her sympathies. She is dead before they can, a few days after Jimmy goes in fact, and with that the Widows Alliance falls apart. Scott takes a day to mourn her alongside his sunshine.

Bdubs shows up instead, a few days after his partner's death. There are azure bluet’s and cornflowers clutched in his trembling hands. He holds them tightly, so much so that Scott feels the stems will snap right in half. But he understands what the other is feeling entirely, and knows the emotions that have to be swamping him. It’s okay if the stems do end up breaking.

“They, ah….they wanted to bring you the cornflowers but…” Bdubs says once Scott has walked over to him, thrusting the flowers towards the blue haired man. He barely meets the others eyes, his gaze watery. Scott smiles, and gently takes the plants from him. He holds them gently in his hands, a slight smile stretching across his face.

“Thank you for bringing them instead.” Scott says softly. Bdubs just nods, and takes a few steps back. Like he’s invading, or not meant to be there. He feels like he can’t take these without giving something back, not after his bond with Cleo. Not after their alliance. It wouldn’t feel right. So Scott motions for Bdubs to stay, which he does, somewhat curiously and also somewhat nervously. He walks a few feet away, and scans the flowers on the grass below. There has to be something suitable enough for him to give back.

Scott finds some spare blue orchid he had lying around, and presents them to Bdubs. The other man looks at him confused, and begins to shake his head. As if to say no, I don’t want them and keep them for Jimmy’s grave . He frowns at that, and holds the flowers out still, and the same wide, confused eyes continue to stare back at him.

“Here,” Scott says gently, pushing the plants into Bdubs’ grasp. “For Cleo. They remind me of the ones in her hair.”

“....Thanks.” Bdubs mutters, finally taking the flowers. He holds them just as tightly as he had held the ones for Jimmy.

“No Problem.” He says, and hesitantly goes to give the shorter a side hug. They’re not very close, the two of them, but Scott can guess what his friend is currently going through. He knows more than anyone how much a simple hug can do, or what it could’ve done, when the pain is still fresh and your emotional wounds are still bleeding heavy.

Bdubs crashes instantly, like he has been holding back everything, all his emotions for so long. Scott finds it not hard to believe that he is, knowing how intense the grief of losing that special person always is. “How she died was so stupid…” He mutters, doing so halfway into Scotts side. The other just makes an empathetic sound, remembering all his own pain from before. The pain he still had, that still lingered and haunted his every waking thought. The fog that never quite left him.

“She was brave, though.” He says, being honest about it. He hadn’t exactly been there due to his self imposed isolation, but he had heard the stories. Cleo had lost her yellow life, then bravely charged back into battle, seeing red. She was dead quickly, but she fought valiantly against the Red King and his horrible army. Scott mourned her and her honorable death deeply, almost as much he he mourned his sunshine’s tragic one.

“....Yeah…” Bdubs’ agrees, and then the moment is over just as quickly as it started. They both move away, the hug having gone on far too long. They had never been that close, and probably never would be. As the other goes to leave, Scott takes this moment to walk with him just a little bit of the way. A rare moment of him exiting the valley these days. They walk halfway back to the Crastle together, grieving for their fallen loved ones and for each other, doing so in silence the whole way back. It is one of the last nice walks, or nice moments with Bdubs’, Scott will ever find himself having.

The rest of the Crastle follows soon after Bdubs’ visit. Including Impulse, the alleged double agent. Who Scott barely trusts at all, for the record. But he comes to the valley with Tango, who Scott trusts a bit more. So he supposes it’s okay, and that they can be trusted. Tango has almost always been with the Crastle after all, and got along quite well with his sunshine when they did speak. So he won’t betray him. Surely not, no.

Both men are allowed to visit the grave, each bringing a flower of their own. Tango brings alliums, a gesture of goodwill and grace. Impulse brings sunflowers, explaining its because of Scott’s nickname for his late husband. Sunshine. And that the flowers always face the sun, and subsequently the light that shines from it. Therefore, they are always facing and basking in the sunshine.

Scott smiles, touched, and lets them place their flowers on the grave. And also pay their respects. The two leave soon after that, waving quiet goodbyes. He does not trust Impulse any more than he did before, but its nice to know that he has more heart than the rest of his monstrous army and fellow soldiers. The very soldiers that are the next ones to show up at his wall’s entrance. The scum they are.

The Red Army shows up slowly, hesitantly. As they should, because Scott is not afraid to fight or chase them away. He is not afraid to die trying either. Anything if it will take one of them down. They are the only visitors to never be allowed to see the grave, some even are not allowed to enter his home. Some respect that, even if they clearly want to do or say more. (Like how Martyn clearly wants to go and see the grave, for whatever reason, so much so that Ren has to basically hold him back.) But they don’t press. They have learned not to mess with a grieving man after the last night they all met.

The King and his Hand show up together, much less hostile than their first and last joint vist to the valley. Ren gives him roses, Martyn hands him oxeye daisies. The blonde also implies he wants to see the grave, but Scott will not let him. He does not trust those two monsters in a place so dear to him. Never has, and never will. Ren mutters his condolences, then drags him and his partner away back into the woods.

The next time the three will meet will be in battle, and it will be the final meeting too.

Etho shows up next, one bouquet of flowers in each of his hands. One he says is a personal gift, blue orchids form his very own swamp and his very own base. The ones that hadn't been burned by Scar and his pyromaniac tendencies, that is. The other is a bunch of lilies of the valleys. He says Skizz wanted to give it to him, for forgiveness or something, but knew it would be a bad idea to show up himself. So Etho is now the little messenger boy.

Scott takes the lilies reluctantly, almost scowling at them. Etho slips back away into the shadows as soon as he can, correctly sensing that departing is better for his safety. It’s better that he did so, and that Skizz never came in the first place. Because he would be dead on sight if he did, no questions asked, not buts about it. He puts the orchids directly on the grave, and puts the lilies of the valleys just off to the side. Scott does not want to taint his sunshines final resting palace with a gift from his killer, from such a horrible horrible man. Even if Jimmy would want everyone’s flowers to all be together on the grave….

The last person, and army member to come by, is BigB. And despite being in the army, he has always been such a kind fellow, and has never harmed anyone personally. Scott even lets him inside the valley, and lets him get a glimpse of the grave from afar. He firmly believes that, under different circumstances, BigB could’ve easily been saved from choosing the wrong side. He brings Scott dandelions, flowers that are kind just like their gifter. Flowers that are a symbol of healing, if he remembers correctly. Scott smiles as he places them on the grave, the last plants he will ever place there, because now every time rests atop and around the dirt that holds his petal.

He picks up one of the white dandelions, and blows on it gently. They scatter into the wind, and he hopes Jimmy enjoys watching them fly and flutter about in the air.

It’s as if the floating flower pieces are performing a dance just for the two of them.

“So dawn goes down to day.”

He killed Skizz earlier that day. Well yesterday, because it is now sunrise. Grian was going to take him out, but he lets Scott get the last, killing blow with his axe. For his husband, for Jimmy. For all that this man has stolen from him.

It felt good, so so good, and satisfying, and all those violent urges were finally laid to rest. And finally, finally, the fog manages to lift just by the smallest bit. But just by a bit.

All this death and murder and thoughts of allies that this incident, and everything else, spawns things in his head. Makes him think. Makes him make vows and promises to himself that he might never be able to fulfill, right as the sun finally goes up. He hadn’t slept a wink the night before.

Scott makes a silent promise to himself that if there ever is another game like this one, another life, he will never let this happen again. His allies will not die needlessly, or sacrifice themselves. He will be the one to go first, and will do so happily. He will give them his all, he will be the sacrifice.

He feels like he never gave Jimmy his all, so this is the only way to make up for it. Even if they will not remember the next time they see each other. He will make up for it by making his undying loyalty truly undying, whoever his allies may be. In the next life, and every single one after that.

He will give everyone he loves his all, forever and till the end of time. Till he no longer can anymore, and there is nothing left to give.

“Nothing gold can stay.”

After his petal goes, Scott is quick to learn that nothing in this world stays. Not even him.

He bleeds out, forgotten and alone, killed by Ren during a chase. It might’ve been Martyn, he can’t remember, because the blood loss is catching up with him and his brain isn’t working. It’s also not working because he’s dying.

And as he dies, forgotten by his allies and in a pool of his own blood, an enemy undeniably waiting nearby for him to go so they can loot his items, Scott hopes he is buried next to Jimmy. He hopes that Grian and Scar are jot too far gone, and they will remember to carry his body back and bury him on the hill. Like he'd told them he wanted, a few nights before. He hopes he gets to see his sunshine again, whatever happens after this. He hopes he can see Jimmy again and hold him and kiss him and tell him how much he cares and loves him and misses him and wishes he could’ve done more to save him.

He dies and he wishes to go home to his sunshine once more. And in more ways than one, his wish is granted.

…..

“...Petal?”

#ron.writing #trafficshipping #flower husbands #3rd life smp #nothing gold can stay #scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #This was supossed to be done in september....#my last fh related thing for a whle probablyy

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