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Grian stabs her in the back. Literally.
She’s not sure what to chalk it up to – trauma, shock, grief – but the second time around, Gem goes through the motions in a haze. Patch up the base, trap the base, finish the dome… trap the base some more. Tell her she loves her – jokingly; obviously platonically. Die at a funeral on their own grave. It’s like a dream, or some post-death hallucination, until she watches Pearl take off towards Jimmy’s skynet. All of a sudden, she’s running at a full sprint, tackling Pearl off the treetops and onto the ground, and–
Death is an empty, hollow feeling. The world around her, infinite void forever. Her head spins.
She wakes next to the square hole, across from Pearl, running over and pulling her into the tightest hug she can manage.
“Erm, hi?”
“I missed you,” she says, muffled by the height difference; her face against Pearl’s shoulder.
“Been right here, Gem.”
“I know, I know,” she lies, trying not to cry, because she failed her again. Got them both killed. She shouldn’t be getting another chance, and she’s got no clue why she is.
She lets go, before it gets more awkward, even though she doesn’t want to. Pearl looks back at her with wide blue eyes; Grian in the distance. She seethes.
Pearl takes her hand, palm to palm. “Are you nervous?”
Gem nods, and it’s the truth.
The Boogeyman is about to be chosen.
They wait, in silence — it’s her, of course.
Scar comes around on Etho’s behalf, and she shoves him unceremoniously into the Square Hole. He doesn’t deserve it, but it’s all she can do in the moment. It’s how it all started. No Boogey trap — just a quick, clean, kill — and Pearl won’t leave her.
Rebuild the base. Set the traps. Let Ren blow himself up.
She doesn’t let Pearl out of her sight. It doesn’t matter in the end.
It’s different. It’s the same.
They go to Ren’s funeral, because at least Gem knows what danger lies in wait. The rest of the world is a terrifying unknown.
She gets them out of the way of Jimmy’s TNT minecart. In the chaos, no one sees him send the second one off the tracks. It takes Skizz down with them.
After a few more kills — and a few more red names — Jimmy’s luck runs out. He takes himself and Joel out with a hastily-detonated trap, far away from everyone else.
They celebrate. It’s too soon.
As it turns out, killing Scar was just enough to push the server over a metaphorical edge. If Gem thought the others wanted them dead before, she wasn’t ready for what that really looked like. Cabin Core sets their sights on them too, with laser focus. Just a few minutes away from the Lighthouse is enough for Scott to set a trap. They’re lucky. Gem’s the closest, and takes the brunt of the blast.
Another life gone.
Scar was a winner. He was dangerous, as innocent and playful as his facade seemed. Gem knew that. What she didn’t know was just how smart he really is. He leads them on a wild goose chase through the server, seemingly going nowhere. It would be stupid to engage in a 1v3, especially when none of them are red. There are consequences for breaking the rules.
There’s also ways around them. Scar doesn’t throw a single punch or even reach for his weapon. It ends with all three of their deaths in a pitfall trap heading up to the Cabin Crew’s firewatch tower.
It goes on, giving and taking. Impulse spleefs Skizz just as he deals a killing blow; lightning strikes twice. Bdubs takes BigB out for… honestly, Gem’s not really sure. Gem’s careful, and she’s rewarded: her and Pearl are the last two yellows remaining, which inevitably makes them the most enticing targets.
Grian regards her cordially, even if, from his perspective, she’s suddenly gone cold. His now-inevitable thirst for blood is both a blessing and a curse. They find an understanding in it. She sees that familiar look on his face, the one she saw at the Square Hole, moments before he betrayed her. But void, if he isn’t a machine when he’s like this.
He’s the one that makes the proposal — one last devious plan — take out Cabin Core for good. If they flank him, the second a shot hits one of them, they’re free to join in. They plan to bait them down to spawn, two poor innocent yellows sitting alone without their big scary red to protect them.
A creeper in a boat kicks them both back to their beds. Red.
(Etho, no doubt. He’s the only one that could dream up a trap so obscure.)
And then it’s Grian that’s alone and outnumbered. They scramble up to get a vantage point, knowing it’ll all be over by the time they manage to get back. It’s Grian versus them. Scott, Etho, and Bdubs charge in the distance, bows and swords drawn,
Gem watches from afar, her and Pearl perched at the top of their Lighthouse, eyes glued to their binoculars, taking in the carnage.
When it’s done, Grian and Scar stand in the ruins of the spawn village, swords held on guard. Scar’s too late to save them.
“He’s the better fighter,” Pearl says, laughing after a moment of silence. “And if he’s not, we can take him.”
They circle each other. All Gem can hear is the gentle breeze outside. It’s almost over. Scar’s lips move, and he lowers his sword. Grian’s stance softens.
All he has to do is take the shot.
Scar runs. Grian doesn’t.
He has a soft spot, after all. She imagines, if it were the two of them, at the end, Grian would lay his sword down.
Maybe that’s something she can understand, even if she still resents him for it. Scar’s put a target on their back, and he’ll come for them at any cost. He’ll probably save Grian for last.
Thunder sounds far in the distance. Cleo’s gone, lost to one of the pitfall traps. Pearl shoots her a solemn look. Despite it all, they’ve made it to the end this time. She’s made it to the end. And it’s then that Gem finally realizes, no matter what, they can’t leave together.
She stands, extending her hand and pulling Gem up. Closer than particularly necessary. Her eyes are bloodshot, and Gem’s body feels so heavy. They haven’t slept in at least a day, since the fighting started, but it went so quick. They didn’t get enough time. What was it all for, if not her? Why is she here, living this life again?
It can’t be together.
They make it to the foot of the Lighthouse. Grian comes into view, out of breath. He doesn’t say anything when they lock eyes, just nods.
Gem understands. It ends here. It always has to end here, because it started here.
None of them speak as they wait for the other two to show up. It starts the same, the five of them atop the pit, and a countdown. Grian and Pearl make a run for Martyn, the obvious contender. Scar locks eyes with her, sword at the ready.
Gem charges, but she hears Pearl’s cry of pain — Martyn’s sword lodged in her shoulder, Grian desperately trying to intervene. Her heel catches the edge of the cobblestone walkway crossing the pit, and she can’t hold on, not with only one good arm.
Gem runs as fast as her legs will take her, but Pearl’s too far out of reach. She barely has time to process the sight of her body being skewered by the stalagmites lining the bottom of the pit, before a hard kick to the back sends her tumbling down herself.
There’s the void.
She tries everything. Every way she tries, there’s too many variables, too much danger.
Gem gets herself killed in too many ways to count — actually, she wonders if there’s an achievement for that. She goes down in lava, by mace, spleef, even entity cramming.
She even takes a page out of Tango’s book and succumbs to the curse, just so she can take out Jimmy and Scar without the pesky rules getting in the way. She knows where most of the pitfall traps are now, so it’s easy enough to bait them into each others’. Joel and Scott don’t take too kindly to it, and she ends up stabbed in the gut.
One thing stays the same: she can’t save Pearl.
Pearl ends up dead, and Gem ends up back where she started.
Some of them are more clear than others. She runs on autopilot most times, caught in the motions of the same old same old. No matter who Gem kills, or when, it always comes back to bite her.
She lights the TNT, but not before Jimmy gets a swing in that sends them both careening down the harsh cliff outside the L.
It doesn’t kill her instantly, but it’s going to, soon. The remaining Rejects look down from above; decide the same, and leave them be. They talk quietly, voices echoing, picking up what’s left of Jimmy’s things.
Mercy is for the honorable, and Gem is anything but.
Gem tries to move, but she can barely breathe. It feels like she’s broken every single one of her ribs, and her legs are bent in all kinds of wrong directions. She tries to move them, and there’s no pain, just… nothingness. Like they don’t exist. She pulls her shirt up as high as her armor allows, and even the fabric moving makes it tender. There’s a bright bruise blooming on her abdomen.
She turns her head as far as she can manage. Gem can’t see her breathing, and maybe it’s for the better. Pearl’s in worse shape, an arm out of its socket and bones sticking through. Blood pools beneath her. Gem’s not stupid — she knows she’s bleeding out too. Just on the inside.
Gem reaches out. She can just about reach her hand; blood warm and wet between their palms.
Pearl’s breath rattles.
“Please don’t,” Gem begs, sobbing; every hitch in her breath making the pain in her chest worse. “Don’t go. Not again.”
She squeezes Gem’s hand.
"It’s okay,” Pearl says, weak. “I’ve got you.”
Tears mix with the blood spattered on her face. “Pearl…”
"Just stay with me,” she whispers, eyes fluttering, “Until it’s over.”
Gem coughs, and blood pours out of her mouth. She watches her take her last breath in a haze. She can’t. Not again.
“Pearl,” Gem whimpers, “Pearl, no.”
Her vision fades, and it doesn’t hurt anymore. She wants to scream, she tries to, and nothing comes out.
It’s a quiet death.
The void is cold, and silent. Unwelcoming. She screeches, and she feels it in her throat, but there’s no sound.
Gem wakes screaming at the top of her lungs, for all that she couldn’t before. The world spins, and before she can even feel the grass underneath her feet again, she’s teetering off the edge into the Square Hole.
Just for a second, she sees her. Eyes wide, watching her fall in slow motion. Gem reaches out.
She’s in her bed.
Three lives.
She charges down the tattered stairs, feeling it in her knees and ankles as she jumps down larger gaps, pulling Pearl into a crushing hug as Grian watches on, eyes wide.
“Pearl, you’re,” she manages, out of breath, “Pearl!”
Pearl pushes her back, hands on her shoulders, “You okay, Gem?”
“You’re okay.”
“I am, but… are you? That fall looked nasty.”
She nods.
Grian grumbles, “I’ll update the sign.”
“Pearl,” she says, again.
Pearl’s lips part, her head tilting slightly.
The Boogeyman is about to be chosen.
Gem waits for the inevitable, then, bluntly: “I need to kill Jimmy.”
“What?” Pearl asks, in disbelief — then again, laughing, “What?”
She nods. “I want Jimmy dead.”
“He… he’s red Gem, you can’t.”
“If… if I go after one of his allies, maybe he’ll fight back. Defend them. Then I could.” It’s perfectly reasonable.
“It’s Jim. He’s red, he’ll be down in no time. Probably his own doing.” Pearl jokes, but there’s a hint of seriousness behind it all. She tilts her head, studying Gem.
It doesn’t matter. She’s already made up her mind. This has to be the way.
“No, Pearl, I… I have to.”
Pearl calls after her as she marches away. She processes it enough to recognize her voice, but doesn't hear a single word. Her mind spins. She just has to kill Jimmy. Kill Jimmy, and it all goes away.
She makes her way over to the Rejects’ base, traversing through spawn. They’ve left the L — Gem supposes that’s partially their fault for burning it down, though they had it coming. It lies in ruin, and they’ve been hiding up in the sky. Gem makes for the ladder, hoping for an easy sneak kill, but stops in her tracks when she hears voices.
Her heart sinks when she sees it: all four of them out arguing on the cobble bridge with the Cabin Core crew. Directly plotting against them, rooting for their demise. It’s too crowded. She shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be revealing herself so early. But her weapons call to her like the taste of blood does when she’s on her last life. It’s too strong. There’s holes riddling the entire building; wreckage from their little act of arson. It could still be trapped anyway. Gem reaches for her cobblestone, and towers up to the top of the ruined building, crouching and hiding as best she can on top.
Does it even matter? No.
Gem stands tall, retrieves her bow, and quickly nocks an arrow, firing it into the crowd — near Jimmy, but not at him. Scar catches the stray, and the bridge erupts into chaos. The eight of them start yelling, and she can barely think. Their heads dart around in every direction, but Scar points up, and directly at her.
“It’s Gem!”
She shoots another arrow, this time at Jimmy. It hits.
“Oops!” she yells out, loud enough for all of them to hear. All he has to do is shoot back. It’ll be self-defense.
“Here for a boogey kill, Gem?” Joel taunts, distant.
“Yeah,” she yells back, plainly, “You gonna give it to me, or do I have to come take it?”
Jimmy does not shoot back. He shakes her head at her — disapprovingly — and shouts: “Free kill, boys!”
Then, he charges up the staircase towards the L with frightening speed. Running on autopilot, Gem pulls out her pickaxe, tunneling down through the cobblestone floors to meet him on one of the lower levels.
“She’s going down,” Etho shouts, “Scar, Scar look!”
Gem barely has time to whip her head up before an arrow pierces her chest, sending her barreling backwards through a hole in the wooden wall, and speeding toward the ground. She reaches for her water bucket, but it’s too late. Her head hits the ground and her vision goes black.
She wakes up in bed gasping for air, like she’s been kicked in the chest.
Pearl’s by her side, end stone in hand. The walls around her are half patched up, moonlight streaming in through the scaffolding. Her brows furrow, and she kneels down next to the bed.
“What did you do?” she asks, “Why’d you go off alone like that?”
“I…”
She had to; she has to do this by herself. Pearl can’t get involved. She still has five lives, but Gem’s seen first-hand how quickly that can change.
“Gem…” Pearl takes her hand, threading their fingers together. “What’s going on with you?”
Tears run down her cheeks. “You wouldn’t believe me.”
“I know there’s people and places outside of here, but I’ve never seen them. There’s just these worlds, and the in-between. Whoever put us here, they made us forget. If that’s possible, I’ll believe pretty much anything.”
“In-between?”
“Oh,” Pearl says, frowning slightly. “You’ve always remembered more… I thought…”
Gem has flashes of other worlds, sometimes. Not home — these are different. More similar, technically speaking. She remembers a world of secrets, a large stone structure, and holding onto Pearl’s waist on the back of a camel. Stolen kisses against Trader Scar’s. And she remembers anger — a sword in her chest. She supposes that’s where the scar that runs across her body comes from.
She remembers a giant car, and family, and Pearl’s harsh gaze. Genuine animosity, fading into playful teasing; attempts to kill her that were no more than banter. She remembers Pearl being ripped from her just when things started to take a turn.
When she first came to in the plains of a strange world, she met Pearl’s gaze, unfamiliar teal eyes and black hair, and she felt a faint fire in her gut. All that faded when Grian suggested working together, and Pearl said yes.
Gem could have her again. That was all that mattered. Even if it wasn’t like it was before — even if she was too scared to try.
Now, she just wants to hold her close. Her breath catches, and a sob racks her body. Pearl cradles her jaw, wiping the tears from her cheek.
“I’ve been here before.”
“Yeah,” Pearl nods, “we have. This is the seventh time we’ve been put in one of these games, Gem. Or… less for you, but…”
“No, I… I know that. This is the third time.”
“It is,” Pearl says, blunt, still caressing her cheek; slow, gentle circles.
“I’ve seen this day before,” Gem starts, after a moment of silence. “I’ve been the Boogey, and I’ve watched you die, over and over.”
Pearl stares.
“Jimmy started it,” she says, “That’s why I have to kill him. And why you can’t help me.”
She nods, slowly. “Then…. Grian can—”
“—Grian can go kick rocks.” It comes out harsher than she intended.
“…Okay.”
“You don’t believe me,” Gem says.
Pearl chuckles awkwardly, “I don’t know what to think, Gem. ‘S not exactly something you can prove.”
Gem reaches out; runs her fingers through her hair. “You need to be careful. Even if you don’t believe me. You can’t… I can’t lose you again.”
Warm, strong arms wrap around her back. Pearl holds her tight. She’s here, alive. It’s the only thing that’s ever mattered.
Pearl pulls away, too soon, but stays close. She pulls a blanket up over her, and presses her lips to her forehead, so soft and gentle. “You should rest. Respawn takes a lot out of you.”
They should’ve realized that, when they sent her out, alone. So much she could’ve done, and maybe Pearl would have made it.
Grian and Pearl rebuild the base around her. She avoids conversation, mostly. Pearl asks if she’s okay a few times. She nods silently. Grian’s always been intuitive, and he knows something is off. He doesn’t engage, but he does catch her eye once or twice, pretending he isn’t looking.
As much as she wants to hate him, all she can manage is frigid indifference. Gem knows too well what it feels like to be red.
She follows them up as they head up to the roof, building the trap that should eventually kill Ren, if all goes to plan. It’s all so open. For a moment, Gem considers how easily she could step off and let darkness consume her. She could go after him, then. No schemes, no theatrics. Just red-on-red violence.
She thinks about it. Too much.
She thinks about it as they go off towards the Lost Generation’s base to get her a Boogey kill.
She thinks about it when Grian gets caught in the line of fire between her and Martyn.
She thinks about it when they get back to find the Rejects lavacasting the Lighthouse, trapping Grian inside.
He makes it out, red.
And as she’s once again atop the dome, now a stifling pyramid of cobblestone, she knows she has to do it.
The wind feels nice rushing by, at least.
Between her and Grian, the server doesn’t stand a chance. They launch a silent massacre, barely speaking as they whittle the rest of them down to red, then nothing.
It was the only option.
It’s the three of them in the end, still together. Where it all started. Grian knows it was all for her. There isn’t a world where it isn’t. He doesn’t say anything and he doesn’t have to. He’d do a lot for Pearl, too. Gem can appreciate that.
Scott and Scar lie at the bottom of the pit. It wasn’t a fair fight, not when Gem’s done this tens of times. She knows how they move; how they fight.
And there’s only one option now.
She locks eyes with Grian, and a look of recognition washes over his face.
Gem charges at him, and he runs, until she has him cornered against the base of the Lighthouse, trampling the patches of nether wart. She doesn’t hesitate to press her sword against his throat, drawing a bead of blood at the tip.
Pearl shouts her name, and she pushes it under. She hears the blood pounding through her body.
Grian’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t shout, nor does he seem as surprised as he should.
“You’ve been here before, haven’t you?” Grian asks, strained.
What?
“We had a funeral for her,” Gem says, staring blankly, letting up on the pressure just a bit. “We mourned her. And they all said horrible things.”
He doesn’t say anything, just stares at her with these big doe-eyes.
She sniffles. “They said it was my fault.”
Grian winces as her grasp on her sword slips, and it digs deeper, a steady trickle of blood now.
“It wasn’t my fault! It wasn’t!”
“It won’t stop, Gem,” he says, tears in his eyes, “It won’t stop until it gets what it wants.”
“I don’t know what it wants,” Gem yells, spitting in his face, “I’ve… I’ve done it so many ways, and it’s never good enough!”
“It wants a winner,” Grian says, plainly, his eyes empty, almost soulless.
She’s heard enough. She’ll give them a winner. Someone who deserves it.
Gem slices her sword through his flesh. She doesn’t look back. She just looks at Pearl, who’s looking on, hand clasped over her mouth. Tears streaming down her face.
She wipes the blood off her hands, and reaches up; holds Pearl’s cheek in her hand. “I’m sorry,” she says.
And Pearl doesn’t say anything. So Gem presses the hilt of her sword into Pearl’s hands, and speaks with a smile, as if it dulls the weight of her words in any sense. “You have to do it. It has to be you, Pearl. Couldn’t be anyone else.”
“I can’t,” she ekes out; but she’s taken the sword. “I’ll go down to one. We’ll have a fair fight, Gem.”
“Please. I need this.”
She guides Pearl’s hands; the sword into her gut, slowly. Pearl doesn’t resist, she just stands there, sobbing, and Gem can’t even look her in the eyes.
It’s a coward’s choice. Maybe that’s what she is.
She knows what Grian means when she finds herself in the too-familiar endless void.
It wants a winner.
It wants Gem.
She tries to ignore the game; have whatever time they can steal, and be content with that alone.
Pearl dies in her arms every time.
Gem comes to — falling to her knees, tears pouring from her eyes.
They’re both at her side. She falls into Pearl’s arms, and sobs, for every loop, for every death. For all the time in vain. Time that’s starting to feel stranger by the minute; whether it’s her mental state or the loop degrading, she’s not sure. But she knows. She can’t stay here forever.
It has to end, and it has to be here.
They stay there forever, or a minute, before Pearl stands her up, and wipes the tears from her cheeks. She whispers something to Grian, and ascends the lighthouse. Gem keeps her eyes glued on her, afraid that if she lets her out of her sights for even a second, she’ll be gone.
The Boogeyman is about to be chosen.
Grian’s voice pulls her out; “Gem?” he asks.
“Huh?”
“Said your name a few times there. Are you alright?”
He doesn’t ask her about the Boogey. She’ll tell them later.
Gem laughs, paradoxical and hysterical. “I’m… no, void, Grian, I’m not. But… you get that, don’t you?”
His face goes stern, stone-like. “Gem…”
“Tell me,” she says, more a question than a command, “I know it won’t make it any better, but please, tell me.”
Grian leads her to sit down on the edge of the Square Hole, twiddling his thumbs in his lap.
“It was the first time,” he says, looking down into the pit, “I thought it was some kind of punishment for leaving them.”
She doesn’t push, but she’d be lying if she wasn’t curious to know who them is.
“The whole thing. The games, the loop. It’s cruel. They pull us in here, they… they mess with your heads, and I just have to sit here and… take it. And for what?” He shouts up at the sky, like someone’s listening.
“What happened?” Gem asks, “The first time?”
“You know the definition of insanity?” he chuckles, shaking his head. “It was always me and Scar, at the end. And I couldn’t do it.”
Gem doesn’t answer. After a moment, he clears his throat. “Until I did. Don’t know how long I was in there, to be honest. Things started to blur together, after a while.”
“I don’t want to leave,” she admits.
Grian places a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Tell her.”
“I can’t… not if I have to kill her, Grian.”
“She’s never stopped, Gem. Even when she thought you hated her,” Grian says. “If… when you win… it’ll be easier next time. You’ll have her.”
That’s all Gem wants.
They head up, to patch up the build. None of them hear Ren and Cleo on the roof. It’s been so many loops since they’ve had to deal with them, they’re completely out of Gem’s mind.
The last thing she hears is the hiss of TNT .
She gasps for air, panic setting in as she comes to in the unfamiliar terrain of spawn. They’re with her. Pearl’s here.
“Okay, okay,” Grian says, “It’s okay.”
“That hit the chests,” Pearl says, swearing under her breath, “We’re gonna need more sand.”
Gem wants to scream. Instead, she just says, “I’ll get the sand.”
She mines sand. It’s boring. But safe. She stews in her thoughts; wonders how long she can make this game go on for. If she could really stretch it out… they could have some time. Gem could make things right, apologize for being so hardheaded, and wasting an entire game playing family with Joel when she could’ve been off with Pearl, in their own little world, pretending the rest of the world didn’t exist.
Yeah. That would’ve been nice.
Void, Gem wishes she could forget like the rest of them. The more time she spends in this forsaken place, the clearer it gets. And the fuzzier the real world gets.
Now, she can only hope that they still have one good day left before this whole thing goes sideways.
Her hopes are dashed just as soon as she’s had them. From the south, she hears the unmistakable sound of an explosion. One. Then two. Then three.
Gem runs. She runs faster than she’s ever run in these games; in her life. The Pyramid of Gluten’s only a stone’s toss from the Lighthouse.
It’s not fast enough. She watches Pearl fall from the top of the Lighthouse, landing with a sickening crunch. The Rejects and Cabin Core are all over the base. Scar takes aim at her from the scaffolding, lodging an arrow in her shoulder, piercing through the scar tissue that’s also his fault. It hurts like hell. But she keeps running. She gets up to the second level, and comes face to face with Jimmy.
There’s a sword slashing across her throat before she can react.
Their bedroom is chaos. Grian’s dodging BigB’s sword, slashing wildly, his shirt already ripped and his armor dented. Inbetween blocks, he shouts out, “Joel, Jim, downstairs!”
“Pearl?” she asks.
“Got— Skizz— she’s fine!”
Pearl can take Skizz. Gem knows it. Move. Move, Gem.
She scrambles down the ladder and comes face to face with Joel.
He grins, laughing, and charges, pinning her against the wall. Joel winds his axe back, and Gem goes to brace herself for the hit, when she remembers a crucial detail: they never repaired the place this time around.
She grabs him by the trim of his armor, and pulls him back with her, through the back wall and down to the ground. It’s nowhere near lethal, but it hurts.
Joel lands next to her, and before he can grab his axe, Gem’s there, rolling on top of him, scratching and hitting with her bare hands, her sword still sheathed on her back.
He’s stronger. He rolls them easily, and the momentum sends them toppling down the hill, and splashing into the water behind the Lighthouse.
Thunder roars. Skizz is down, and out.
She’s lost her sword in the fall, and Joel’s axe lies just outside the water. He pulls himself up, and starts trudging towards the shore, but Gem’s quick on his tail. She grabs his ankle, pulling him back in, and punches and kicks with all her might.
Joel’s stronger.
He pushes them out where Gem can’t touch, and suddenly, she’s underwater, fighting his hand on her head. He pushes, and no matter how hard she swims, she can’t get back up for more than a gasp.
Up on the hillside, Pearl’s on to Jimmy, valiantly exchanging sword blows. Blood drips from her arm, but she’s gotten a good slash in his side that he’s clutching with his other arm, swinging his sword one-handed.
Her hands flail wildly, and she grabs — at the air, until she feels wet skin — Joel. She claws, digging her thumb into his eye, hard and fast.
Joel screams, and he lets go, hands flying to his face, but he kicks at her stomach, hard. She recoils, balling up, and he stomps her down again, further and further into the depths.
Her lungs scream for air, and she’s close, so close to the surface. Her vision starts going dark, and she wants to scream. Then, she’s getting kicked further and further under, the rocks coming closer and closer. One final kick, and her head slams into the ocean floor, the water turning pink around her. She inhales, a desperate gasp. It burns her throat and lungs.
Then nothing.
She dreams; a meadow of flowers, a gingham blanket, their fingers intertwined. Pearl looks radiant in the warm sunset, her brown hair backlit, glowing orange and red. The flowers go on as far as she can see. It’s safe here.
She smiles. “What are you thinking about?”
You. Always you, Gem thinks.
There’s a soft wind, grass and flowers rustling, and Gem is coughing, it’s cold, and it hurts.
Pearl’s concerned reaction fades into nothing, and there’s just the sunset. A beautiful blur of colors.
The Lighthouse of Time comes back into focus slowly as she blinks. Pearl’s eyes a familiar blue focal point, among a fuzz of pale skin and brown hair. Gem looks around. Her hands are red. Blood? No, she clenches her fists together, and feels soft fleece. Pearl’s hoodie.
“Still yellow,” Pearl says, sitting in a chair by her side, “Joel’s gone. Grian’s red.”
Her throat hurts as she asks, “You got me?”
Pearl nods. “Not before Jim took me down another.”
Gem’s clothes are hanging outside, perched on the scaffolding. Her head is killing.
“You were… your lips were blue, and when I got you back, you were…” Pearl sighs. “You were shivering. Do you not remember?”
All Gem remembers is the burn, and the nothingness.
“I wasn’t sure… I thought we were going to lose you. But… you coughed, and there was so much water, Gem. And you… you were begging me not to leave.”
Pearl barely gets the words out; Gem can see the tears prick at the corners of her eyes.
She wraps her arms around herself, taking a deep breath — or as deep as she can without coughing. It smells like her, firewood and grass and peaches. She’s wearing one of Pearl’s shirts, down to her thighs. Her legs are tangled in her sheets, damp with sweat.
“Thank you,” Gem manages, hoarse and quiet.
Pearl smiles, but she looks like she’s about to cry. “Sleep. We’ll go take care of the rest of the Rejects.”
She braces herself on the bedframe, and behind her smile, Gem sees her breath hitch. Her hand goes to her side.
“Pearl,” she says, louder, more confident. She sits up, pushing past the ache in her chest. Pearl’s stuff is too big on her, sliding off one shoulder.
Pearl tilts her head, brows furrowed. “Let me go, Gem.”
She shakes her head, and shuffles to the side.
“I just twisted funny.”
Gem grabs her hand, and pulls her back closer, hand pushing her shirt up. The whole left side of her stomach and ribs is covered in a bruise, deep purple and red.
“Pearl,” she gasps.
“Jimmy threw me down before he got away,” Pearl says, sitting back down. “It’s getting better. Just gonna take time.”
“Then don’t go, please. Cabin Core’s still out there. Let them fight each other.”
Pearl sighs.
“Stay,” Gem says.
“Okay,” she relents.
Pearl heads to the scaffolded wall, and sticks her head out through a missing block. She yells down, “Gonna have a little sleep. You’ll keep watch, Gri?”
After a moment, and what Gem assumes is some sort of affirmative, she sits down next to her. Her hair is stringy and pulled into a bun. She smells like saltwater. Gem can feel the dried salt flaking off as she brushes up against her.
Pearl pushes Gem’s hair out of her face, thumb tracing an ache just below her hairline. Right. She hit her head. She reaches to the bedside table, pulling the first aid kit out. Gem sits still as Pearl attends to her, taping gauze in place over the gash after smearing it with a salve.
“Turn,” she says, and Gem does. Pearl’s fingers rake through her hair, twisting curls around her fingers. “Should get this outta your face. Don’t want that bandage getting wet.”
She hooks her leg over Gem’s; Gem feels her wince, and she presses her body against her back.
“Hell,” she mumbles, clearly in pain.
She settles, though, and then her hand is on Gem’s shoulder, tracing the exposed line of her scar, the one that extends all the way across her chest. It’s a pitted, still-red gash that haunts her every day.
“I shouldn’t have let him…” she starts, trailing off.
But then, it would’ve been them.
Gem doesn’t say anything, afraid to break whatever moment is happening here. So they sit, quietly, as Pearl pulls her hair into two french braids, careful to ease the tension on her injured side. It feels nice, the pressure, Pearl being here, the soft wind of her breath against her cheek.
Pearl ties off the braids, and with a sigh, wraps her arms around Gem’s shoulders, hugging her close, all entwined.
They stay like that for a while.
Eventually, Pearl pulls back, laying down properly, her head on the edge of the pillow. She beckons Gem, pulling her head onto her chest as she lays back.
If Gem could stay here forever, in this moment…
Pearl drapes an arm across her stomach; she can feel it with every rise and fall of her breath.
She lets sleep take her.
Gem awakens half-peacefully, for once, Grian’s hushed voice in her ear, shaking her awake softly. Pearl makes a noise, and Gem shoots up, her head spinning.
Grian’s face is solemn. “It’s just you two.”
“Who’s left?” Pearl mumbles, still half-asleep.
They’re the last yellows again. Gem wonders, could they stay here forever, if it were just them? She doesn’t know if she has the heart to find out. Not if it could all be erased in a second; not if she had to do it all again.
“Jim, Martyn, Scott, Scar, Cleo. They’re coming. I’ll go out, but… I can’t hold them off forever.”
He takes Pearl’s hand. “Set up the TNT. And you promise me, Pearl. Promise me you’ll take the shot.”
“Okay,” Pearl says, quietly.
He leaves, and Pearl helps her up, looking her over. She grabs her overalls and pulls them on — tucking in Pearl’s shirt and keeping the hoodie. They help each other into their armor sets; The bruise is fading to greens and yellows, but Pearl still swears whenever she moves her trunk. She won’t last, not like this.
All Gem can hope is that Grian thins them out.
Lightning strikes once, then twice. Not Grian.
They head to the top for a vantage point, and set up Grian and Scar are tag teaming Martyn, alternating bow shots and sword strikes. He doesn’t have a chance.
Pearl sets up the minecart, as Gem extends the platform until it’s over the Square Hole. All they have to do is push it over.
Lightning flashes right in front of them. Martyn’s gone. It’s just Grian, Scar, and Cleo now.
They have the shot. The three of them are congregated together in the center of the pit, the boys having switched their focus to Cleo, who’s giving them a run for their money.
Pearl’s hand hovers over the button. She knows — it’s going to hit him too. Gem, though… Gem doesn’t think twice. Pearl’s here. With her.
She sends it over.
Thunder booms in their ears again, twice, in quick succession.
Her and Pearl exchange a look, clambering down the busted lighthouse as fast as they can. Gem drops a bucket of water, and they jump down.
It’s Grian, standing alone. He looks down, blood flowing from his gut. He won’t — can’t — put up a fight. Gem’s not sure he would if he could, now that he knows. She almost wants him to.
“Well, this is,” he groans, “Yeah, I had this one coming.”
“Don’t say that,” Pearl says, softly.
“We were the Villains, weren’t we? Villains don’t get a happy end,” Gem says, disconnected. She stares into the dripstone, covered in blood and surrounded by bodies.
She doesn’t get to be the one that walks away from this clean.
“It has to be Gem.” Grian speaks up, voice raspy, “She’s the only one of us. That hasn’t won.”
Pearl’s eyes dart, between the two of them. He’s slumped against the wall of the Square Hole now, clutching his stomach, the color rapidly fading from his face.
“It’s only right,” he adds.
“Grian, you can’t—”
“Yes, I can, honor my dying wish!” He says it all snippy and half-joking, but Gem knows he’s serious.
They both watch as his breathing slows. It’s too quiet.
“Pearl,” Gem squeaks out, “Please don’t make me do this.”
“You gotta,” Pearl says, so gentle, taking her hands. “So you can remember.”
“I remember! I remember enough!” she pleads. This isn’t the version she wants to remember.
“I want you to remember everything, Gem. The good and the bad.”
“I don’t want you to leave,” she says, tears in her eyes, “You can’t leave me again. I need you.”
“Hey,” Pearl says, lifting both hands hand to Gem’s cheeks, cupping her jaw gently. “Next time. I’ll see you, okay?”
Gem tries to speak, but the words are stuck in her throat. She can’t say anything. There’s nothing to say.
She kisses Pearl. Slow, and soft, and long. As long as she can before she can’t breathe anymore, and she has to pull away. It’s like kissing her for the first time; the only clear moment not locked behind a haze.
They’re alone. Pearl’s never looked more beautiful.
“Gem?” she asks.
Gem makes her decision.