Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Martyn shot upright in his bed, red fabric wound tightly in his hands, sweat pouring off of him.

Where was he?
What was he doing here?
Who’s base was this?
What happened?

He thought he’d died. He was so sure his time had run out. He’d felt the lightning as it struck his body and…

Martyn's frantic eyes caught on the fabric woven between his fingers properly.
It was… that wasn’t his sash. The red fabric that he’d woven three white triangles into, worn around his waist with pride. No this was… this was a cloak.

Ren’s cloak.

Oh fuck.

Ren.

Martyn closed his eyes tightly, pressing his hands against his face, nose burying into the soft fabric as he tried desperately to pull his thoughts into something that made sense.

He was in his bed. This was his home. This was Ren’s cloak.
He’s just had a nightmare.

A new nightmare.

With Grian and Scott and…
And Jimmy. And BigB. And everyone else.

Everyone else.
He remembered their names. He knew them. None of them had been blurry figures he’d had to come up with names for.
He’d known all of them.

He remembered all of them.

His stomach sank, twisting in nauseating anxiety as his heart threatened to beat out of his chest and-

Martyn stumbled out of bed quickly. He rushed to his bathroom, cloak still wound tightly around one of his hands even as he gripped onto the sink tightly to stare into the mirror.

He looked like an absolute mess.
But he looked like himself.
No dead kelp.
No black vest.
No red coral crown.

And then his eyes caught on something peeking out from the collar of his shirt. And his blood ran cold.

No.

He ripped his shirt over his head without a second thought, dropping it to the side as he looked back into the mirror and-
Fuck.

His stomach twisted, and he tore his eyes away from his reflection just in time to double over next to the toilet, emptying the little that was in his stomach into the bowl. It tasted vile, his throat burning as he threw up what was probably mostly bile. He reached out blindly for the toilet roll, wiping his mouth as a choked sob shook his body.

Oh gods no.
He squeezed his eyes shut, arms wrapped around himself as he felt tears run down his face.

This could not be happening.

Not now.

Not them.

Oh gods.

It’s just another nightmare.
It has to be just another nightmare.
Please let it just be another nightmare.

He took a slow breath in. Then exhaled.
And then he pulled himself carefully back onto his feet, gripping the sink again.

He stared down at the plug, trying and failing to calm his racing heart.

And then he looked back into the mirror.

And it was still there.
Carved into his skin, under his left collarbone, mocking him.

…

It was all real.

Oh gods it was all real.

…

He needed to find Scott.

-

Scott woke up to dread swirling in his gut.

Oh no.
Another game.

He kept his eyes closed, sorting through the left over feelings to see if he could guess anything about the game from them.

Fear. Dread. Not uncommon for a death game.
He thought of Joel and a spike of anger shot through him.
Goddamnit Joel. Why did the man insist on hating him during these games?

He sought out the other new emotions, feeling his way through them carefully.
He’d been… yearning for someone.
And then grief hit him full force, hard enough to make him open his eyes when they stung with tears.

Jimmy had been in this game again as well then.
He thought, since Mumbo and Lizzie had been in Last Life but not Double Life, that maybe… but no.

He turned to look over at his partner, smiling sadly. Jimmy was still asleep, but his eyebrows were furrowed.
Scott reached out, cupping his face and leaning in to press a gentle kiss in between his brows, pulling back and smiling as it grew more intense for a moment, before Jimmy’s face relaxed back into his normal neutral of sleep.

He stared lovingly at his boyfriend for a few more minutes.
And then he sighed, and forced himself to get out of bed.

He wrapped himself in his robe, pulling slippers on as he moved downstairs to make him and Jimmy something to eat.

While there he pulled out his communicator to send a letter to Pearl, letting her know that he was awake and aware, and that he’d keep an eye out in case The Winner had been someone from Empires.
He didn’t think it was Joel. If the soft sense of satisfaction that bubbled underneath the anger said anything to him, it was that he was pretty sure he’d managed to kill the man.

He felt pity for whoever had won this time, buttering some toast as he pondered between bacon and eggs or just fried egg sandwiches. The games were awful to experience either way, but winning? The guilt of having watched everyone else die, and then your prize being that you woke up and remembered everything? Scott suppressed a shiver at the memory of his own win. The way he’d woken up so lost and confused… awful.

Bacon and eggs.
He tapped his fingers against the counter top as the food fried in their respective pans, humming quietly.
Jimmy always struggled in the mornings after a game. Something about him having been first out every time. Scott felt bad for assuming that it was the same this time but… he was a Canary.
Either way, Scott tried to work hard to make sure that these mornings sailed as smoothly as they could.

Anything to get a smile on Jimmy’s face.

He’d just shifted everything off the hob and onto their plates when his communicator chimed with a join message, making him frown softly.

He didn’t remember anyone leaving the night before, so he wiped his hands and picked up his communicator to check who it was and…

Oh.

Oh dear.

A chill ran through Scott's body as he stared at the playername on his screen.

Martyn had been back on the Empire's server a few times since the Tea Party, to meet up with Lizzie and Jimmy again,
But neither of the seablings had said anything about another meet up any time soon. And they were usually scheduled for much later in the day and…

Oh this couldn’t mean anything good.

Scott leant against the countertop for a moment, hurt rushing through him, betrayal, anger, acceptance… affection?

What on earth-
Well shit.

He should probably-
Yeah.

He should probably try and find Martyn.

Because if Martyn was here then something had probably happened in the games and-
Oh gods if Martyn had won Scott didn’t know what on earth would happen because that man had been absolutely vicious in every other game and-

He needed to find him, now.
Before something awful happened.

He didn’t bother trying to change out of his pyjamas, just wrapping his robe tighter around him and switching his slippers for shoes before rushing out of his base.

He didn’t even know where he was going! Martyn could be anywhere.
Oh gods, Scott should message Jimmy so that he didn’t panic if he woke up while Scott was out.
He pulled out his communicator as he continued speed walking towards the walls of Chromia, fingers trembling slightly with adrenaline as he clicked on Jimmy's contact and pulled up his whispers.

He let his concentration on where he was going dim down just a bit, he knew Chromia by the back of his hand and he had to make this message legible enough that it wouldn’t make Jimmy panic more and-

Scott’s internal spiral was cut off when someone grabbed him, shoving him against one of the walls of Chromia, an arm immediately pressing hard against his throat. He dropped his communicator immediately to grab at the arm, struggling against whoever it was and-

His eyes focused on their angry face at the same time that their voice registered inside his brain.

“Hey Scott.”

Hello Martyn.

You’re very strong.

Scott felt his lips part as he stared at Martyn, their eyes level with each other.

Oh gods.

The things that Martyn could do with that strength-

He was so gay-

…

What the absolute hell happened in this game??

-

Martyn stumbled out of the spawn portal and immediately continued walking.

He didn’t have the time to take in the now familiar beauty of the Empires spawn, he had to find Scott.

He followed the signposts towards Chromia, heart pounding, breathing heavy.

The anger that had been twisting in the bottom of his stomach expanded slowly with each step that he took.
He didn’t know who he was pissed with specifically, other than the obvious.
But he knew he was angry.
And the only other person who’d appeared in his dreams before now was Grian, and he was locked behind the most heavily secured server barriers at the moment.
So Scott it was.

He spotted the player as he reached the walls outside Chromia, Scott was also in a hurry for some reason, but all of his attention was on his communicator.

Martyn didn’t care.
Red clouded his vision for a moment and the next thing he knew he had slammed Scott against the walls of his own empire, an arm pressing harshly against the Emperor's throat as he struggled.

“Hello Scott.” He spoke through gritted teeth, eyes locked onto the blue ones that were now staring back at him, fear being replaced by recognition as his struggling stilled, before a multitude of other emotions crossed Scott's face. Martyn could’ve laughed in any other situation, reading Scott’s silent emotions perfectly still. He could hear the way the elf’s heart sped up significantly, soft confusion crossing his face.

Martyn tried to push back against the anger, tried to clear his brain enough to actually talk to the emperor but Scott got there first.

“Listen Martyn- before you say anything, if this is about a… a game, I don’t know what happened in this one yet and-”

And the anger that Martyn had managed to sweep aside crashed back in immediately, his arm pressing back against Scott's throat, cutting him off as he narrowed his eyes.

“This one?” He hissed, venom bleeding through his words as Scott froze where he’d been scrambling to pull Martyn's arm away.

He watched as Scott ran through all of his potential options in his head. Watched as Scott fought to keep his face an impressive neutral, a mask of confusion and innocence.
It might’ve worked. Before.

But Martyn knew him now.
More intimately than Scott could probably even begin to comprehend if he was truthful about not remembering Limited Life.
He could hear the well concealed panic behind his words when he spoke again.

“Okay- Listen. I’m sorry. That wasn’t the best way I could’ve done that but- gods Martyn. You won didn’t you?”

Martyn stared at him, thoughts racing as he ran Scott's words over and over again in his head.
“If this is about a… a game,” “I don’t know what happened in this one yet” “You won didn’t you?”
If Scott couldn’t remember… How did he know about the game at all?

“I won.” He replied eventually, loosening the pressure on his arm but not moving it away from Scott's neck just yet.

He watched as Scott's heart broke behind his eyes, and for a moment he felt bad.
He raised his other hand, carefully cupping Scott's cheek and rubbing his thumb gently against his cheekbone, the way he knew always helped to calm the elf down. And he watched as Scott relaxed into it, and then watched as confusion raced across his face.

Right.

Scott didn’t remember.

He dropped his hand.

“Martyn-” Scott's voice was soft this time, gentle, filled with a pity that made the anger still churning in Martyn's stomach grumble with the want to lash out again. “I… I know that right now it’s really confusing, and you’re still… confused. But I’m not the best person to give you the explanation that you deserve. If you’ll… if you’ll let me pick up my communicator again, let me send a message. Grian can-”

And suddenly Martyn's arm was cutting him off again, red tinting the edges of his vision once more as he growled.
“Grian knows about this?”
Scott gasped, slapping his arm with his hand almost desperately and Martyn…
Martyn let him go.
Properly.

He dropped his arm and took a step backwards, watching as Scott doubled over slightly, coughing and gasping for air.

“Fine.” He said after a moment, “Message Grian. Tell him that he better be able to figure out a way to meet me somewhere today, or I’ll cause a scene big enough that XisumaVoid will have to list me as an official threat to the Hermitcraft server.”

Scott nodded quickly, scrambling to grab his communicator from the floor.

It was silent while he typed, and Martyn started to feel bad again when Scott paused to rub at his throat.

He shouldn’t have taken the anger out on Scott. He’d done nothing wrong.
He watched as Scott's fingers hovered for a moment over his keyboard, before continuing to move.
When Scott clicked his communicator closed, Martyn sighed quietly.

“Look I’m-”
“You don’t have to apologise.” Scott waved him off “I understand.” He shot Martyn a small smile, and it all but broke Martyn's heart all over again. His eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head.
“No. I do. You didn’t deserve that. I shouldn’t have hurt you again. You’re my Mean Gill. I’m sorry.”

He searched Scott's eyes as he stared at Martyn, soft confusion flicking through his face before it settled into understanding. Another smile was offered his way, and this one didn’t hurt.
He smiled back slightly, ignoring the soft surprise that flicked through Scott's expression at that.

After a few moments of standing there awkwardly, Scott shifted on his feet and then cleared his throat.

“Look. It’s going to take a while to sort this out. Grian and- uhm. Pearl knows as well. Sorry. But they’re both on Hermitcraft for serious reasons, so it’s very rare they manage to get leave in only a day’s notice, especially for this cause Grian sometimes gets hysterical and that understandably makes X even more cautious about letting him go without people there to help and-” Scott waved a hand through the air quickly “Point is. This is going to take a while. I’d just made breakfast for me and Jimmy when you joined and…”

Martyn felt his heart plummet at the mention of his friend. His best friend, who’d been the first to die. He met Scott’s eyes and found the elf searching for something. Something that he found based on the small sad smile that was offered next.

“... Jimmy died first. Didn’t he.”
Martyn nodded, eyes flicking over Scott's face, reading grief that was too old to be from just his game.
“...He’s done that before?”
“Every time.”
“Oh gods…”

Scott nodded, and then made a show of brushing down his robe and straightening up.
“Anyway. I’m sure that he’d appreciate your company for breakfast. But please just…”

“Don’t bring up the game?”
Scott nodded.
“Please. I don’t… if he’s going to find out, I need him to find out properly.”

Martyn nodded slowly in understanding.

“Okay.”

Scott smiled at him again, and then started walking back the way he’d been coming from when Martyn interrupted.
“Come on then. I might have to warm everything up a bit but… we’ve got all the resources we could ever need here. We don’t have to worry about it.”

Martyn steeled himself, exhaling carefully.
He was going to tear Grian a new one later.

But for Jimmy?
He could pull himself together and act normally.
As normal as showing up to Scott's empire for a surprise breakfast could be.

-

Grian woke up and swore loudly.

Then he scrambled to get out of bed and swore loudly again when his blankets tripped him up.

Oh he was going to figure out how to kill the bloody Watcher for good what the FUCK WAS THAT?!

Pushing Jimmy off of the bridge to ensure he still died first was one thing.
But then turning the water he was aiming for into cobblestone at the last second to get him out as well?
And then-

Grians feathers were fluffed angrily behind him as he paced, scattering colourful feathers all over the floor as his hands reached up to tug at his hair.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckfuck.

Fuck. Okay.

Deep breaths.
You’re back on Hermitcraft now. And you’re awake. They can’t do anything else right now.
….

He spun around and kicked the side of his bed.

Fuck!

Why did it have to be Martyn?
Of all the other players, all the other Hermits, it was so close to just being Scott again-
But no.
No.

Of course it had to be Martyn.

Oh he was going to-
He was-
He wanted to slam his head against the wall.

He almost did as well.

But then his communicator chimed with the sound that meant he had a letter in his inbox at spawn.
So instead he hurried to change clothes and raced out the door, launching himself into the air with a few strong beats of his wings, not even bothering to check whether today was a rainy day or not.

He really really hoped that letter was from Martyn…

-

It was not from Martyn.

Worse.

It was about Martyn.

Grian paced in front of the mailboxes as his eyes scanned over each sentence from Scott.
And then he read it again.
And then he cursed loudly again.

Of course Martyn had gone straight to Scott.
Ooooh he should have seen this coming for fucks sake.

Waking up from the game after having won was one of the most disorienting things to happen to someone.
He’d made sure to race over to Pearl's base as quickly as he could after Double Life, making sure that he was there when she woke up and even then she nearly killed him immediately.

So of course Martyn had woken up after winning the game and immediately gone straight for the person who he’d allied with.
Grian was glad that at least it had been Scott. Someone who knew what was going on. But still.

He was gripping the letter so tightly that it was crumpling around his fingers but he could not care at the moment.

Martyn had won a game.
Martyn remembered a game.
Martyn was angry.

They’d have to tell Martyn about all of the other games.
He’d promised Pearl and Scott that much on their agreement to keep it quiet from everyone else for the time being.

Oh fucking fuckity fuck face.

Martyn was going to kill him.

Grian was broken out of his thoughts by a ping from his communicator and he grabbed for it quickly.
A whisper from Pearl, clearly frantic, asking where he was.
Oh fuckity bollocks.

He shoved Scott's letter in his pocket to type out a quick reply, reassuring her that he hadn’t run off somewhere stupid, that Scott had sent him a letter and he’d gone to pick it up at spawn.

He stared at their messages for a moment, fingers hovering over his keyboard.
And then he sent her another whisper, telling her to meet him at Xisuma's base.

They needed to figure out how to meet with Scott and Martyn now. If they left Martyn hanging for a full week to deal with this? Grian actually shivered as he tucked his communicator away and backed up to take a running leap back into the sky.

Suddenly he was a lot more grateful to Pearl for having forced him to attend the reunion.
If this had happened while Martyn still thought he was dead?

Fuck.

This was not good.

This was not good at all.

-

By the time Pearl got to Xisuma’s, Grian was pretty sure he’d already managed to ruin any chance they had at getting off the server today.

He was pacing back and forth frantically in front of their admin, waving Scott's letter about in the air as he word vomited excuses and panic at X all the while explaining that he just couldn’t be clearer about the reason behind this X he wasn’t ready for that but he didn’t understand they needed to meet up with these people right now.

He heard the telltale swish of Pearl's wings folding against her back as she landed behind him and immediately turned around, eyes searching her face as he continued waving the letter.

“Pearl! Pearl, you have to tell him that he needs to let us go! Tell him that we can go back to the secured server again, that he can walk us, that he can get a whole team of Hermits to walk us! We need to go Pearl we-”

“Grian. You need to calm down first” She put her hand gently on his shoulder and he shook his wings out irritably.
She didn’t get it.
And he told her as much.

“Pearl you don’t understand. Pearl this one is serious. Pearl-” She squeezed his shoulder and he groaned in annoyance.

“G you’re not going to get anywhere like that-”
“Pearl it’s Martyn.”

Pearl’s entire body stiffened. The soft squeeze on his shoulder turned into a tight grip as her eyes searched his, panic growing in them when he just stared back at her.

“Oh fuck-” She whispered. “It’s Martyn?”
He just nodded, shoving Scott's letter into her hand.
“It’s Martyn.”

He watched as she scanned the letter quickly, growing more and more pale the further down she got.
Then he jumped to the side, wings flaring out in defence when a figure appeared at his side suddenly.

X immediately threw his hands up next to his head.
“Sorry. Sorry. I should have made it clearer I was walking over.” His eyes scanned Grians face in the way that always made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and his feathers fluffed in agitation.
“You said ‘it’s Martyn’. That’s one of your friends? From before?”

Grian gave him a tight nod.
Gods.
Why was everyone asking so many questions?
Couldn’t they understand by now how serious this was?

“Is he in danger? Is that why you need to leave?”

Grian paused. He didn’t… he didn’t actually know if this constituted Martyn being in danger.
Martyn was a danger. To others. Maybe to himself as well. Definitely to Grian.

“It’s a bit more complicated than that X” Pearl said softly, drawing their attention back to her.
She was still gripping Scott’s letter tightly, still pale, but her face was set carefully neutral.

“Listen. Both of you.” X frowned underneath his visor. “I understand that you are both running from something that is exceedingly dangerous. And you have both also made it very clear that you do not want to give too many further details, which I have obviously respected. But if your friend is in danger and I let you both go and you get hurt or worse, that is on me. I understand that this is complicated but this time I’m sorry, I am going to need more than what you are currently telling me.”

Grian threw his hands up into the air, wings flapping behind him.
“Fine. Okay. We’ve just been informed that Martyn might be a potential danger to himself and others right now. He’s with a neutral friend at the moment who can keep him calm but only for a limited period of time and I’m not sure how long left of that we’ve got. The friend is the one that me and Pearl have met before on the MCC server, which we can use again today which you know is secure and if you so desperately need to you can walk us there or if you’re still not sure fucking hell just get them both on as a visitor here but for the love of all things X, whatever you decide on please do it quickly.”

Grian was panting heavily when he finished speaking, all of his feathers raised on end as he glared at his admin.
Xisuma stared right back at him, waiting. And once he seemed to be confident enough that Grian had finished, he sighed quietly.

“Alright.” He looked towards Pearl before back at Grian. “I don’t think I’m comfortable at all letting either of you off of the server in the states that you are in.”
Pearl shifted on her feet, opened her mouth to say something. X held up a hand towards her. “You may be better at appearing calm and collected than your brother Pearl but I know you well enough by now. No.”

Grian folded his arms, deepening his glare. He glared at X from behind as well, just to be a dick. They needed to be in Martyn’s company as soon as possible. X needed desperately to get a move on.

“Remind me of Martyn's tag, and please finally enlighten me on the identity of this other friend. I’ll contact the rest of the Hermits and see what I can do about getting them here.”

Thank fuck.

But also.

Ah shit.