Chapter Text
Impostor.
Ace had seen the word a million times before, even amongst a sea of crewmates.
He never realized, however, how consequential it could be.
Especially not when Spammy was right next to him, every step of the way.
Through thick and thin, he’d stayed with Ace every time. Every accusation, every shapeshift. Never stopping to doubt, never saying the wrong thing.
How could a man be so perfect?
He often found himself wishing the pair of them could be together--if even just for a day, just for a moment in time where neither of them had to worry about death.
But he knew that would never happen. It couldn’t—one of them would get killed, the same way everyone else did, and then the other would wallow around in their own pity forever.
Or maybe Ace was making Spammy’s attraction up, too. Maybe he saw the pair as friends and nothing more.
But do friends stick around this long?
Do friends let you lay your head on theirs, knowing you could kill them at any moment?
Do friends look at you... like that?
Ace honestly didn’t know anymore.
And he wanted so desperately not to care, but he couldn’t help himself.
Even in the first few seconds of this new round, one of his teammates—Eugene Talmadge, of everyone—had started a reactor meltdown, and yet he steered himself in the opposite direction of the ‘accident’.
I need to find Spammy, he thought, running over to navigation. He was sure he’d find some kind of interaction there—he couldn’t be alone and running away right now, he’d definitely look suspicious—but upon arrival, he found nothing.
Fuck.
This round, he decided, he’d stay alone. Make up his own alibi—he was sure Spammy’d cover for him anyway, like he always did.
Unless…
Ace shook the thought out of his head, quickly locking navigation’s door with his sabotage menu so nobody could see him like this.
(yes i know there isn’t a door to nav, no i don’t care)
He braced himself against the steering wheel, looking at his reflection in the glass. You look pathetic, he tells himself—though hardly a speck of dust is out of place.
What would Spammy think? That stupid maroon-colored idiot was perfect in every way, shape, and form. What if he messed up? What if his teammates did? What if…
What if he died?
The doors unlock with a quiet hiss. Ace doesn’t look back.
He can’t.
At least, not until…
”Ace?”
It’s him.
Immediately, Ace propels himself into a standing position. “Spammy,” he says abruptly, brushing nonexistent lint from his suit before turning to face the man.
”You look like hell. What…” Spammy trails off, unsure of what to say. “Why? Are you… you it?”
”No, no,” Ace says, lying—though he isn’t really sure why. “Crewmate. Just… steering the ship, nothing else.” He laughs—forced, illegitimate.
Spammy raises his eyebrow. “I know you. You’re the impostor, aren’t you?”
”Will you keep it down?!” Ace hisses—Red had just turned the corner. “I…” He swallows, nodding just subtly enough for Spammy to get the hint.
He didn’t even look fazed.
Instead, Spammy placed his hand on Ace’s shoulder (or whatever was closest to a shoulder he had, anyway). Ace nearly shuddered.
”Listen, Ace. I trust you. I don’t care whether you’re a crewmate, an impostor—fuck, you could be the creator of this dumb fucking game and I’d still… shit, I’d still love you.”
He’d… what?
Spammy seemed to realize the intensity of what he’d just said, and quickly removed his hand from Ace’s shoulder.
It burned worse than any hell anyone could ever dream up.
”You’d… You what, Spammy?”
And just as he opened his mouth to answer…
”DEAD BODY IN ELECTRICAL! EVERYONE HEAD TO THE CAFETERIA IMMEDIATELY!”
Shit.
Spammy turned away from Ace without a second glance, all but running towards the cafeteria.
”Wait—!”
But he was already down the hall.
Shit again.
This wasn’t going to end well, was it?
“I found his body in Electrical,” Jax said, pointing at the dead body of Charlie Kirk. “Wound to the neck. Didn’t see a thing around. I didn’t look, though, so there might’ve been something.”
”Nothing?” Eugene Talmadge asked. “Did the body look normal? No sign of infection?”
”About half-confident it wasn’t a viper,” Jax said, shrugging.
Spamton crossed his arms. “Are you sure you didn’t see [YOUR NEXT BIG BREAK]? Anything at all that could lead to a [G0AL FOR TH3 USA!]?”
“Nah.”
The entire conversation, Ace and Spammy didn’t say a word. Usually, Spammy would be the one doing all the interrogating, but now he couldn’t even bring himself to look at the table.
Why had he said that? If only he’d just kept his mouth shut, then he wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place… But Ace had looked so sad and scared and confused and he didn’t know what to—
He’d just tell Ace he messed up after this round. He wasn’t entirely wrong, was he? Spammy had just destroyed their entire friendship with four words: I’d still love you.
What a stupid thing to say.
“Where was [TH3 WINNERS!!!]? Do we all have alibis?” Spamton asked, glancing around expectantly at all 15 inhabitants of the table. “I myself was with [CLOWN AROUND TOWN]…” He cast a glance to Jevil, whose clothes were suspiciously rumpled, and he nodded, confirming their alibis.
”I was with Tung and Caine,” Tralalero Tralala said.
”Eugene and I were together,” said Stomach Book.
Everyone went around the table announcing their alibis until it was just Spammy and Ace left.
"[WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR]?" Spamton said. Somehow, the silence in the cafeteria got even louder.
"I..." Ace started, unsure. "We were in navigation together."
"Yeah," Spammy added on. It sounded fake.
Both of them did.
"... [YOU'VE GOT YOURSELF A DEAL!]..." Spamton said. "But I'll have my eye on [THE PRIZE!]."
Ace got two votes.
Spammy got two votes.
Nobody was ejected. (Skipped)
Three impostors remaining.
It had been several tense minutes since that meeting. Spammy had finished his tasks--and instead of hopping on cams like him and Ace used to do, he found himself wandering aimlessly around the map, hoping to stumble upon Ace by chance.
What was he going to say? There wasn't a chance that Ace would want anything to do with him now--not after he'd admitted... that.
He'd liked Ace for years, sure, but it had never ruined their friendship. They'd still talked and laughed and cried and... fuck.
Spammy couldn't deal with this pressure anymore.
He had to find Ace.
Fortunately, he found him in the first place he checked--Navigation, once again.
Unfortunately, he'd found him in the process of murdering someone.
Spammy didn't see much. Just a faint crack and the sound of a body falling to the ground.
Ace nearly choked at the sight of someone walking in on him, lowered his defense, then raised it right back up again. "?..."
"We need to talk," Spammy said, somehow out of breath from nothing at all.
Ace hesitated, then nodded. "Somewhere else. Before we both get voted out."
Ace hopped into the closest vent, emerging only when Spammy made it into comms. They hardly spoke, let alone made eye contact for a minute, before...
"Could you... say it again?" Ace said slowly.
"What?"
Spammy had thought it was all over. He thought he had ruined his only chance with the love of his life, the only person in this stupid game that was actually worth living for. But here he stood amongst shadows and static, hearing Ace ask for the one thing he wasn't expecting.
"Please, just... Say what you said earlier. About... about loving me. Say it again."
And yet, despite how badly he wanted to... Despite how hard he loved Ace, how long he's been waiting to say it...
He couldn't.
He couldn't say it.
"I..." Spammy felt his mouth go dry, as if all his saliva was sucked up by a vacuum. "I can't."
"Why not?"
Ace looked smaller than Spammy had ever seen him before. Smaller than he did in navigation, even.
"I..." He choked. "I don't know." A tear spilled from his eye, fogging his visor. He turned away so that Ace couldn't see him anymore.
He couldn't bear to stand that look on his face anyway.
"Wait--"
But for the second time in a night, Spammy had left Ace alone.
Helplessly, utterly, heartbreakingly alone.
But this time, instead of regretting it...
He just felt like crumpling to the floor.
Five bodies.
Five people were dead, which brought the total up to six now.
Only eight left--Mr. Lee, Spamton, Caine, Eugene Talmadge, Stomach Book, Spammy, and himself.
Ace, as the impostor, should feel empowered by this. Him and his teammates--both of which were still alive--were well on track to win.
But winning wasn't on his mind right now.
Why couldn't he say it?
"One in Navigation, two in Electrical, one in [OUR SHARED BREATHS], and one in the hallway just outside Security," Spamton recited, fueled by everyone else's contributions. Apparently, everyone had stumbled upon all of the bodies at the same time--a story that did not seem possible or likely whatsoever to Spamton.
"Mr. Lee [PROVED HIS WORTH] and Caine did [PEW PEW] with me. They're both [A-OK]," Spammy continued. "Eugene, [INTESTINAL READING], Ace, and Spammy, that leaves all of you without an [#TRUESTORY]."
Ace couldn't speak. Neither could Spammy--although this time, that was probably for the best. He honestly couldn't tell whether Spammy was ready to break their age-old alliance.
... He would probably deserve every word of accusation he got.
But why...? Why did he have to leave, yet again? There was nothing stopping him but himself--that had to be it, but...
Did he really, truly believe Ace didn't want that?
Has he never seen the way Ace has looked at him?
Eugene cleared his throat. This round, him, Stomach Book, and Ace were the impostors--of course Eugene needed Ace to come up with a believable alibi, but... Ace just couldn't think.
Not now.
God... not now.
"I..." Ace started, finding it almost impossible to speak. Eugene picked up for him. "Ace was with us, were you not? He and Stomach Book did trash as well--I checked."
Ace gave one final glance at Spammy before looking away just as quick.
He couldn't even look at me.
"Yeah. Yeah, I was..." Ace couldn't finish his sentence, and yet he could feel the burning glare of Spammy's stare on his bowed back.
"Which means [ME, OF COURSE!] doesn't have an excuse," Spamton says.
Ace recieved zero votes.
Spammy recieved four votes.
And even so...
Nobody was ejected. (Tie)
Three impostors remaining.
... I just want him to look at me.
That's all Ace wanted. All Ace wanted was for Spammy to look him dead in the eyes and either tell him that it's over or kiss him so fucking hard neither of them would be able to breathe.
Nothing.
For what felt like hours, there was nothing.
Not even watching cams could get his mind off of... well, everything. Spammy. Himself.
The fact that no matter what he did, Spammy was about to die.
There was no denying what Ace had just done. He'd sold Spammy out--the only reason he's still here is because of a technicality. A tie.
From his last count, there were only five more crewmates remaining. Even if Spammy wasn't voted out--because if he wasn't alone before, he definitely is now--the impostors only needed to kill a few more people before they were automatically declared the winners.
All Ace needed was to talk to him.
One
last
time.
He checked Electrical, both engines, Medbay, the cafeteria... Nothing. Absolutely no sign of anyone on this half of the ship, much less Spammy. Of course. Why would he want to spend any time with you after what you did?
He spoke too soon.
In... fuck, in Comms of all places, he found Spammy hunched up in the far corner, crying.
Ace had never seen Spammy cry.
And god, was it a horrid sight.
Not because he looked weird or bad or gross or anything--even with tears streaking down his face, he still looked beautiful to Ace.
No, it was because he caused it.
Him. Ace.
Fuck.
"Spammy," Ace whispered, voice cracking between the syllables as he all but ran to Spammy's side. "Shit--"
He looked up. Ace's heart lurched.
"This is my fault, isn't it?"
Spammy looked as though he was going to shake his head, but in a gesture that made Ace almost dizzy, he nodded.
"F--Fuck, Spammy, just..." Ace choked on a sob, the sound echoing around them. He wasn't sure when he even started crying. "Just... tell me to leave, and I will, okay? Tell me to run, and I'll... I'll run."
The words hurt, scraping his throat raw on the way out.
But despite everything... Despite Ace's shittiness and Ace's dumbass self and Ace's stupid fucking everything...
Spammy didn't say a word.
He just... looked at Ace.
And that was all he wanted.
Slowly, ever slowly, Ace leaned closer, and closer and closer until their lips were touching. Spammy made no effort to back away.
They stayed like that for a while. Spammy's lips on his, his tears on Ace's cheeks, hugging each other so tight it would kill to let go.
"You're... you know they're going to vote you out."
Spammy nodded, wipping his eye. "Eugene's got his hand over the emergency button." He lets out a wet laugh. "Saw it on my way here. Cooldown must be insane."
Shit, then they didn't have much time.
"It's okay, though. I'm not making it to that meeting anyway."
Wh... what is he saying?
Unless...
No.
He can't mean that.
But he does.
"Ace, I..." Spammy lets out a shuddering breath. "I need you to kill me."
Ace's eye widened. He... he couldn't do that. There was no chance in hell he would go as far as to murder the one boy that made everything just a little bit better, even on the worst days.
"Kill you?"
"Kill me."
"But..."
"Kill me, Ace. Before I do it myself."
Slowly, ever slowly, Ace leaned in once more.
This time, it wasn't for a kiss.
But this time, Ace could've sworn he heard Spammy whisper I love you anyway.
Before he'd fully registered what he'd done, Ace stood in a pool of maroon's similarly-colored blood.
And then it all came crashing down on him.
He threw up. Once, twice. What little food he'd had in the past few hours all exited him in just minutes. His hands were covered, absolutely covered in blood, somehow already cakey--had it really already been enough time for it to dry? It truly only felt like seconds.
Not even seeing the victory screen pop up out of nowhere snapped him out of it.
There was only one way Ace could win now.
They found his body in comms along with Spammy's. The autopsy suggested their deaths happened only minutes apart.
Nobody mentions how it happened.
Nobody mentions how it's impossible for an impostor to kill themselves.
But they all know what happens when people get desperate.
That's the name of the game, after all.