Chapter Text
skizz is here. skizz is here, skizz is here, skizz is here. his brain seems to be looping infinitely, hitting a codeblock in the face of the one man he thought he would never see again- the one man he thought he didn’t deserve to see again.
‘skizz? skizz. you’re here. here on hermitcraft. in front of me. what- what are you doing here, skizz? ‘
‘that’s a long story, impulse. i’m sorry if i’m intruding, but if you’d like, could we sit somewhere? i’d like to explain where i’ve been.’
‘yes! yes, yeah, i- i would love to hear about how you’ve been, skizz. it’s- of course.’ he hopes skizz doesn’t remember him well enough to recognize the tears welling up in his eyes, or the clogging of his throat.
—0—
impulse is crying. skizz is absolutely certain impulse is crying. he’s slightly less certain, but still pretty sure, that it isn’t because of his horrid entrance, because for the first few moments after he landed impulse looking at him like something out of heaven. but then his look transformed to blank staring, and now.. this. anxiety.
it was something skizz was used to seeing on impulse, but never because of him. it was common for impulse to be nervous about something or another, but speaking to him? never. perhaps his absence had affected impulse more than he’d expected. he wished he’d been able to escape sooner, to be forewarned of the watchers attack, but he wasn’t clairvoyant, wasn’t that type of angel.
he was the guardian kind, though, and his chosen charge was impulse. so he sat down, and he explained. everything.
—0—
it wasn’t him. it wasn’t him.
there’s a million thoughts warring inside his head right now. he feels guilt, for never even trying to get skizz out. for letting himself believe his bondmate would leave so callously. he feels relief, knowing skizz escaped, was able to prevent an attack on hermitcraft and save himself. but most of all, he feels a familiar dampener over his thoughts. it’s the aching sadness he’s become so familiar with. the scorching of his love remains, and so does the sadness. perhaps he wallowed in it so much it became permanent, like grian’s pesky-bird act left him with parrot wings for the next few seasons when he was actually a shapeshifter.
impulse feels so incredibly happy. but he also still feels sad. that’s okay, though. he can deal with that. he has been for a long time now. all he needs at this moment is what he’s needed all along; skizz. he needs skizz back.
—0—
impulse wants their bond back. of course he does. impulse wouldn’t have gone off and gotten a new bondmate while he was gone, why would he even think that? he still feels grateful when he gets to pull impulse in close, and feel the strings he cradled so gently in his chest during his empty dreams snap back into place.
which is why he isn’t prepared for the overwhelming wave of numb sadness that hits him once the empathetic feedback hits him all at once. the only thing he can really think is ‘this is what impulse has been feeling?’
—0—
skizz is crying. they bonded and skizz is crying. he doesn’t know what to do. did he do something wrong? what happened? is it- is it his fault? is he going to leave? (again?) he doesn’t know what to do.
so he does the only thing he can think of. he kisses him.
—0—
there will be time for grand love gestures later. there will be time for heavy conversations, and apologies, and so, so much therapy and cuddling and game nights. there will be time for introductions, for sharing his story with the hermits. there will even be time for other life games, for sadness and devastation and grief. there will be time for everything. but for now, there is skizz, and there is impulse.
they are as they always have been, best friends in the past, present and future. the future will not be perfect. not even close, not even at all. but in it, skizz and impulse will be together. that is enough. that will always be enough for them.