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It happened in a blur. Too fast for either Joel or Grian to process.
They knew Jimmy could be a bit of a klutz but this was the worst time for his clumsiness to kick in. Yes, he fell off of Skynet multiple times—all the bad boys were guilty of that—but it didn't matter too much: back then, he had enough time on his clock, and more than enough time to make it up.
But the last grains of sand had fallen, drowning the canary in the sandstorm.
The lightning struck, sealing Jimmy's fate. But he was dead before he even hit the ground.
Everything that followed the canary's final words was akin to static to Joel's ears. He felt his communicator buzz repeatedly in his pocket. There would be a lot of commotion considering this was the fourth time in a row Jimmy was out first. But Joel didn't want to see the messages. He didn't want to believe it.
He dug his fingers into his palms which would be drawing blood, if not for his leather gloves. This wasn't part of his plan. This wasn't supposed to happen. Hell, it should've been Joel who died first, not Jimmy!
Joel had been thinking about sacrificing himself for a while. Everyone was aware of Jimmy's curse. Joel thought he could break it, that he could free him from this cycle. The universe proved him wrong.
And he hated it when the universe proved him wrong.
His head was reeling, blood pumping through his veins, eyes narrowing and flashing red, like a warning. When Joel was red, everyone knew to heed his warnings. But this time, it was somewhat different. The bad boys were anchoring him, slightly diminishing his violent urges. But now one of the chains had snapped, and Joel was already floating into the torrential waters.
Grian seemed to notice, and he gently put a hand on Joel's shoulder. Joel flinched and turned to look at the avian. Grian's eyes were wide with concern, contrasting Joel's narrowed, maniacal ones. "Joel, breathe! Please... Try to relax."
Joel scoffed, shrugging Grian's hand off his shoulder. "That's much easier said than done, Grian, and you know it." He turned away and began walking in the opposite direction, aware that Grian was hot on his heels. "How?! How could he just bloody fall off the bridge?!"
"Joel..."
"I mean, we've all fallen off Skynet, but this isn't the first time Tim pushed off a minecart! Why wasn't he more careful?!"
"Joel—"
"I cannot believe this. This wasn't supposed to happen, I was supposed to prevent this!"
"Joel!"
"WHAT?!" Joel snarled, whipping his head back towards Grian. The avian froze, like a deer in headlights. He remembers this expression, from Last Life when he teamed up with Joel. He remembered his wild expression, his battle-ready stance, his shrieks and cackles as blood dripped from his weapons and hands, staining the ground he walked on.
He remembers Pearl’s blood dripping down from Joel’s axe in Double Life. His chestplate was stained blood, eyes twitching as his lips formed a vicious smile. “You think you’re unhinged, Pearl?! You have no idea!”
Except for Etho, due to their former soul bond, Grian was probably the closest to knowing what “unhinged” really was for Joel.
There were so many words that could describe Joel on his red life: feral, deranged, unhinged, unstable. But surprisingly, Grian thought "broken" was the most fitting.
Becoming a red life was always Joel's breaking point. From his sanity to his restraint, everything went off the edge and shattered once it hit the bottom. Joel was a living storm, wild and untamed. But inside of that storm, were all of the fragments that made him whole, that kept him sane .
This was a different case because Joel was grieving. Before, he was just broken beyond repair; now, the grief shattered what was left of his fragments, making it impossible to put him back together.
(Even if he wasn't grieving, Joel wouldn't be easy to fix anyway.)
Joel saw the fear in Grian's eyes and he just crumbled. He choked back a sob as hot angry tears rolled down his face, resting his forehead on Grian's shoulder. Grian frowned, gently caressing Joel's head and wrapping his wings around him in a feathery hug. Joel clung onto Grian's red jumper, his nails threatening to rip the fabric. "I can't. I just fucking can't , Grian..."
"I know..."
"I was going to sacrifice myself for him," Joel whispered, though Grian was aware of this fact. "I should've let him kill me, at least a couple more times."
"How much time do you have left, Joel?"
"3 hours and 20 minutes." He took a shaky breath, glancing up at the avian over the rim of his glasses. "I could've given him an extra 90 minutes. Probably 2 hours." Grian nodded slowly. He wanted to protest that giving Jimmy 2 hours would kill Joel but they both knew that. That was what Joel wanted.
"You tried so hard, Joel," Grian murmured.
Joel huffed. "Obviously I didn't try hard enough." He let go of Grian, hands still balled up in fists. He really needed to punch something, to let go of some of his emotions. “Sorry, I... I need to be alone.”
“No need to apologize.” Grian gently squeezed Joel’s shoulder reassuringly. “We’re going to be okay. We’re going to come back from this.” Joel didn’t believe that. But he still appreciated Grian for saying it. It sounded more believable coming from Grian, than it would if it came from Joel himself.
After Grian left, Joel looked down from Skynet, where Jimmy fell. Even from so high up, he could see the scorched patch of grass from the lightning.
It disgusted him to look at it.
He then went back into the remains of their base, which accurately represented Joel’s current mood: a mess, barely staying together, incredibly hopeless. His breathing was irregular and ragged and he grinded down on his teeth. Joel took a deep inhale.
And then he screamed.
It was loud, ear-splitting, and it only reinforced Joel’s insanity rather than help relieve it. He dug his fingers into his curly dark brown hair, doubling over as if shot by an arrow.
Then, Joel chuckled darkly, but it quickly devolved into a despair-filled cackle. Joel threw his head back, his sunglasses flying off in the process. His pupils were dilated and angry tears rolled down his cheeks. The cackling made his throat ache and his bloodlust had never felt so overwhelming before. He punched one of the windows, shattering it completely. Some of the shards had pierced through his glove, blood soaking through the fabric and dripping down his wrist.
The despair quickly caught up to him. He sank to his knees and sobbed, having exhausted all of his fire. Only disdain ran through his veins. He despised this wretched world for being so damn cruel. He despised himself for not trying harder. He should have tried harder, he should have.
It felt so… bad.
And, for the first time in any of these games, he hated feeling bad.
Eventually Joel stopped crying, tears still rolling down his cheeks. He began carefully plucking the shards from his skin, gritting his teeth. “Stop crying, you fool,” he hissed to himself. “Not like it’s going to magically bring Jimmy back.”
As angry as he was, and as angry as he’d be for the rest of the game, Joel couldn’t let his time go to waste. This has to mean something. And he knows that Jimmy wouldn’t want him to give up.
He looked up at the clear sky through the shattered windows. Jimmy probably logged off by now. But deep down, Joel hoped that he was watching, to see that Joel wouldn’t quit on him.
Joel was never much of a quitter anyways, though he felt particularly close to doing so now. The universe proved him wrong once, but he’d be damned if it proved him wrong a second time.
(Yet the universe knew that Joel’s insanity would lead to his downfall, once again. It was very good at leading him on.)