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Pearl thought she had it decent given her current circumstances. Taken in by a pair of farmers on their small ranch after her soulmate actively rejected her, food on the table, something to do every day without the gnawing ache of missing a piece of her, one she didn't even know she had, unable to eat at her for long.
Nights were the worst. When Tango and Jimmy, and most of the server were asleep, frankly, was when she had time to think. Importantly, when Scott was asleep. When she knew he wouldn't feel her gripping her arms tightly though her jacket, how the nails bit into her skin in the frigid air outside the shack. When he wouldn't feel the dryness of his eyes as she cried until she couldn't anymore. When she knew he wouldn't feel how raw his throat was as she screamed into the wind so she wouldn't wake those who were kind enough to take her in.
She never told them she didn't feel the need to sleep, never told them she rarely used the spare cot they'd set up for her (they only had enough materials for one bed, but she didn't have the heart to deny them, especially when Jimmy gave her that puppy dog look.) When she did use the cot, it was only to look longingly at the nothingness in the ceiling, at the void that called her closer and closer every day, despite how short her time in this world really had been so far. Besides, she wouldn't do that to Scott, no matter how much she hurt, wouldn't sever the bond, wouldn't kill them both in a fit of rage. She wasn't cruel enough to do that, but every day she wondered even more if it would be easier that way.
Pearl didn't notice the glances Jimmy and Tango gave each other whenever she spent a little too long in the cold, or how they noticed the bags that were appearing under her eyes, or how she seemed to be just a bit thinner than she should be. She looked dull, life fading from her eyes as she repeated the daily tasks she had been given.
It was almost a haze she was in, and the two she was staying with were almost afraid that if they broke it, it would only get worse.
It was Jimmy who broke the ice, who shattered what semblance of peace Pearl had tried to make out of the rubble of her mindset. He found her on one of her worse nights, where she sat outside of where the cattle were and sobbed into her jacket, clutching her arms with enough force to bruise. His steps were the only warning Pearl had before she started choking herself up, hiccuping from the force of sobs she held back. He didn't say anything, only sat with her on the hill until she was ready to speak again, or if she yelled at him to go away.
"Why are you here?" were the first words that escaped her lips, broken in half by little hics.
"Heard you, from the house-" Jimmy caught her expression, and gave her a soft smile. "Don't worry, Tango's asleep and none the wiser."
This seemed to relax Pearl a bit, and she sighed, looking forward, away from Jimmy, pointedly. "Sorry, didn't mean to disturb your sleep."
He shook his head, a reassuring smile still on his features. "Tango sleeps enough for the both of us, don't worry about it."
They sit there in silence for a few more minutes, the rustling of trees and the breeze being the only sounds between them, before Jimmy speaks up.
"How long?" He leaves it open ended, gives Pearl a glance that tells her she doesn't have to answer, if she doesn't want to.
But Pearl trusts them, trusts Jimmy and Tango more than she trusts her own soulmate, a word that feels bitter on her tongue even as she thinks it. "..A couple weeks, I think. Since I got here, maybe." A frown tugs at her features, and she pulls up a dandelion from the grass, starts picking off the petals one by one.
"You know," Jimmy comments, causing Pearl to look at him from the side. "There's a nickname for me- a Canary in the coal mine." He looks to Pearl, who gives him a nod to keep going, that she's listening, that she's okay with him here.
"I've died first in every one of these little games I've been in- or been the cause of them, even by…accident, or proxy, or whatever. I promised myself I wouldn't die first this time, that whoever my soulmate was wouldn't be disappointed in me." He furrows his brows and his lips twist into a grimace.
"When Tango died, and I went down with him…I won't say I wasn't angry, because I was, I was furious. For once, I didn't want to be the Canary, the omen, and it wasn't even my fault this time."
He pauses, and his features soften into something softer, almost affectionate. "But then we actually began to…spend time with each other, now that we knew who the other was. He didn't make fun of me for being the Canary, he praised me for the cows, listened to me. I wouldn't….I wouldn't have gotten that from anyone else here, I think. In turn, I don't blame him for dying.
When it comes to being the Canary in the coal mine…well, Tango told me that miners used to have a little box, for the canary. When the canary fainted from toxic gas, they gave it oxygen, to keep it alive. They cared for the little creature so much, that they invented something that they could have gone without."
The small wings on Jimmy's back flutter in mimicry of his own foreboding nickname.
"I think…listen, Pearl. I'm not," he gives a laugh, something genuine, making Pearl smile. "I'm not the best at advice, never will be, really, I don't think. But no matter whether you're soulmate-bound or not, you're welcome here. Always, as a friend. The miner to your, well, more metaphorical canary. Down to our final days on our red lives, you are welcome here."
Pearl's eyes begin to sting, and she realizes she's crying again. It's not the heart-wrenching sobs from before, but a few tears escape as she wipes them away. It's silent for a few more minutes, and neither of them push the moment, force it to move faster than it needs to.
"Thank you," comes the reply, barely above a whisper, but carrying a weight that brings a grin to Jimmy's face.
"No thank yous needed. Now come on, you look beat from the End and back." He stands himself up, brushing off the grass from his sleep clothes and offering a hand to Pearl, which she takes.
As they quietly enter the little shack, Tango's snores cover their giggles as Pearl lays on her cot, Jimmy sitting next to her, leaning against the wall. They talk about meaningless things, plans for future builds, names for the chickens and cows, what to make for dinner the next day.
It's comforting, the conversation, the lack of judgement coming from Jimmy, the cadence of his voice and the way they both laugh at puns and jokes that both of them keep making.
Before long, Pearl's eyes begin to droop, and she falls into sleep, an embrace she had missed for so long, yet it hadn't been that long at all. Finally, she had a little bit of home to fill the missing hole in her heart.