Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Joe didn't remember how he met Cleo.

Likewise, she didn't remember how she met him either. 

The Hermits assumed they'd known each other for years and, well, they probably had. They didn't remember, but it seemed right- a fair explanation for the oddities of their closeness. Why else would he know her death date? Why else would she know the name of his first pet? Every intricate detail of each other's lives? Every little secret no one else dared to know?

They'd felt a strange kinship since they'd "met", despite remembering neither a time when they'd known one another, nor a time when they hadn't. An inherent knowledge that came along with their friendship and an undying trust and responsibility for each other that was almost second nature. 

The thought, that came as natural as breathing, that they should prioritize each other over every other being. An instinctual "knowing" that, in the end, when all else failed and the world turned in on itself, they, and only they, could be trusted. 

(Neither questioned why they were both so certain of this ending; just as Joe did not question the omnipresent creatures that followed her, nor the cracks in reality through which gods tended to make contact, and Cleo did not question the poison that waited on his tongue, or the slight offness of his movements and speech.)

They'd "found" (for lack of a better word) each other in a death game of sorts. A sick little experiment by a god riled up by destruction and torment, performed by "lab rats" of daredevils and fools who thought themselves there of choice. The god favored Cleo and found particular enjoyment in bothering Joe, and so they met. 

The god ("Vechs," he called himself, blue eyes glittering dangerously behind green tinted goggles that served only to calm the true horror of his direct gaze.) knew he couldn't keep either of them there like the lab rats. They had autonomy that the others didn't, even when they believed themselves the most free of all. 

So, he bribed them. Promising Cleo gifts and tributes and a reminder of her presence for every tester who wandered on through, and Joe an adventure unlike any the lab rats had ever seen. Needless to say, they stuck around.

It was only when Vechs allowed Joe to oversee a particular group's travels that either considered a life outside of Super Hostile.

Team "OOG" (later to become "OOGE", with the addition of a third), as they called themselves, consisted of three men; a rowdy 'gentleman' with a sewn up and stitched together bright red bandana full of stories named Bdubs and a playful lad with green eyes that weren't quite natural on a face that wasn't quite human referred to as Guude.

Their last addition, a masked fiend with scars that spoke of secrets fought to stay kept called Etho, joined later on in the "game" and brought with him a less vulgar side of the original two.

He watched these men - who laughed and played and joked and danced; who didn't seem to know they were supposed to be fighting and trying to win; who were unaware that they were being played like chess pieces, and that they would never truly be able to leave - and saw people , not lab rats. 

Joe left for Hermitcraft after that.

He arrived on Hermitcraft without much thought. But, perhaps more interestingly, he also arrived without an invitation. It baffled the few who started there originally, in particular a creature (one that reminded him eerily of a more put together take on Guude) called Xisuma and a man who seemed too human to be human named Hypnotizd. He didn't quite trust "Hypno", nor the thoughtful look in his eyes when he denied a request for spare torches.

Either way, he was accepted quickly. Whatever (very reasonable) worries Xisuma had attempted to voice against this stranger (of whom nobody anywhere seemed to have heard of) joining their server were shut down just as fast by the owner, a friendly old man called Generik. 

Generik, as if his name was a spell forcing it upon him, seemed to be the most normal person on the server - or, at least the most human. Which was a feat on a server filled with monsters and hybrids alike, where he could count on his fingers those who appeared majority humanoid, and could count on even less those that really were. Human or not, Joe fit in well in a place where the "normal" wasn't the norm. 

His oddities weren't acknowledged so long as he didn't acknowledge anyone else's, and, with that safety net, he settled in naturally. Soon, the Hermits forgot he hadn't been there all along. A friend joining in a little late was normal, after all!

Somewhere along the line, the man called Bdubs left the others in Super Hostile behind, supposedly departing for Hermitcraft like Joe while the remaining duo found their way to a server called Mindcrack. But a lab rat could never "just leave", and Cleo hoped Joe would accept the man's arrival as an apology for not coming along. ( She needn't hope. She knew he did. ) 

It was almost funny, really. The trio were never truly "free", despite being let out of the game, were they?

Is it really freedom, if your "freedom" is a gift to someone else?

Cleo herself appeared in the second season of Hermitcraft with a name change and a startling difference to when Joe'd last seen her. He was not surprised- he never was when it came to her. In return, she was not surprised when he greeted her looking much more human than in the past, or when she became the only one to notice how wrongly he fit into the puzzle that was Hermitcraft. Neither of them fit right, but that was fine. 

Even though the change was recent, they decided no one needed to know and it became another secret. A zombie who's been one for centuries is far less threatening than one whose only beginning to rot, anyway. 

So, he told the Hermits that she'd come of his request, and that she'd been an undead for as long as he'd known her, alongside a slew of other lies. If Bdubs remembered her before, if he remembered how he'd gotten out of Super Hostile, or even remembered the place at all, he said nothing. Joe took precautions anyways.

Bdubs wasn't always afraid of the moon, but if fear was what it took to maintain his silence, then it had to be done. It was unfortunate that they had to mess with their friends, really, but was a little phobia really so bad? He thought it was much better than the more brutal alternative. Bdubs liked to talk, and it would hurt him badly to have to take that away. 

Of course, Bdubs didn't know of Joe's edits. Hadn't he always been afraid of the night?

Chapter Text

Cthulhu made contact with Cleo a fair bit into the season.

They'd done so by ripping a seam on the world that lead to a plague that zombified every animal on the server and lead to Joe's attempted murder at the hand of a mob convinced he was the source. She told them that she refused to have a repeat of "last time" and would not "rebuild the world again" if they destroyed it, and set about building a giant portal to allow them to speak to her when desired. 

Joe didn't question what that meant. He was just glad he hadn't died that night, even if Cleo was part of the mob.

The portal was settled in the basement of her museum, the opening to the sandy chamber it led to set to only open at night. Said museum was inspired by knowledge from the First World. It confused most other Hermits when they brought it up, so they didn't. Excluding the select few who seemed to share knowledge of these things, of course, but that wasn't exactly… a good thing .

Joe had recruited these few into a group dedicated to recreating their builds earlier on, declaring it the Monument Club with the intent of using it as a guise to follow them around and learn what exactly they knew. He didn't want to pull another Bdubs, but if it had to be done, it had to be done.

(Of course, the viewers also knew. 

They were, collectively, an omnipresent entity that followed Cleo around and only let up when she dismissed them like school children. She told him they were "remnants of her past", and Joe didn't dare ask what that meant. They seemed harmless enough, despite his initial wariness, so he didn't mind that much, as long as they stayed away when requested and didn't start following him.

Far darker entities tended to take interest in Cleo though, so he figured the gap was better filled by children from her home than monsters from beyond. She seemed to share the same sentiment.)

As she worked on her museum, the distance caused them to spend less physical time together and he found himself working on several builds for the Monument Club, despite its original intention as just a diversion. He justified this first as a cover, and later as a tribute to the old world. 

This didn't mean he stopped watching the club members though. Of course not. In fact, his target of the evening was an odd man who'd been around since season one: Red3yz. 

Red was interesting. Mainly, his eyes (which glittered the same color as his name, and fittingly reminded him of redstone) interested him. Outside of appearance, the man tended to build farms instead of buildings and snack on rotten flesh instead of food, those oddities accompanied by a voice that sounded almost as dead as Cleo was. 

Joe thought he was the most likely to figure out his intent (given his preference to redstone instead of builds), so he thought he'd check him off the list as quickly as possible.

"Good morning, Joe," Red called over his shoulder, barely sparing the 'hidden' man a second glance as he carried some blocks over to his mountain-hugging base. Joe blinked, and then conjured up a peppy grin, stepping out of the shadows quickly so as to make his failed attempt at sneakiness seem intentional.

"Howdy, Red3yz!" he waved pleasantly, trotting after the other man. "Need any help?" 

Red paused, Joe stopping just behind him. He looked up at the unfinished build, back at Joe, and then unceremoniously turned and dumped a pile of spruce logs into his arms, meeting his eyes as he passed them. "Yes, please." He nodded rapidly, sounding almost desperate. Almost. 

He backed away as Joe struggled to keep hold on the logs, walking off and expecting him to follow (which he did). "I've never built something like this," he continued, expressionless voice betraying the nervousness in his eyes. "How am I supposed to do stairs? It curves , Joe."

Joe finally managed to steady the wood, looking up at the stadium-styled base and then down at the bits that just barely cut into the mountain. "I don't think you have to work on that just yet," he chuckled. Seeing the look on Red's face, he quickly amended, "But I would do bends, probably." He lifted a hand to mime it, but only succeeded in dropping all the logs to the ground again. "Dang it!"

Red walked over to the side of the build where the mountain was, setting a foot into a little crevice as Joe picked up his mess. He dumped a pile of stone bricks onto the second level which he planned on working on, taking a moment to step back down and regain his footing, before pushing them further onto the platform to make room to heft himself up.

"Joe!" he called out, only seeming to notice the man's struggles just then. Joe lifted his head up. "Just leave them. I can't work without you helping me with this and you only need a few logs to help out." 

Joe nodded, picking up as many as he could comfortably carry and abandoning the rest in the middle of the clearing. "Well, what do you need, Red?" he asked, smiling widely as the pros of working with him instead of just watching set in.

Red rose to his feet, pointing a bit past where Joe was standing. "I just need you to put up some supports by the mountain so I can put this up." He tapped his foot on the platform below him. "Around the corner too. Then you can get back to whatever you were planning on doing." 

"I wasn't planning anything!" Joe rocked on his feet, setting up a support just around where the bricks would begin to waver without one. 

His companion dropped to his knees, moving the stone into place. "Oh?" he kept on his work as he spoke. His voice was slightly quieter from the distance and the direction of his speech, and Joe strained to hear it, not wanting to miss a word.. "Are you sure? Not planning on getting back at me for that chicken prank?" 

He smiled. He'd forgotten about that. "Maybe a little!" 

Red shook his head, lifting it up to look at Joe's cheeky grin. "That's the price for telling people you're AFK." 

Joe chuckled lowly, shaking his head slowly and returning to setting up the pillars with a hum and a little hop in his step. He let his mind drift to vengeance as he worked. He hadn't intended on getting back at him, but now it was expected, wasn't it? Something small. It was just chickens, after all. Maybe he could repeat it? But Red wouldn't say anything if he was AFK. The long haul, maybe.

He finished with the pillars and started setting up horizontal supports under the layer so he could keep thinking, mimicking the design he'd seen on the build earlier and hoping Red didn't have other plans. 

He was almost done when Red called out for him again. "Joe!" 

He peered out from underneath. "Yes?" He beamed at him proudly, hoping it might deter any anger if he'd done anything wrong.

Red walked over to where Joe was standing, getting on his knees and leaning over the edge to see what he'd been working on. When he adjusted to face his helper, his face showed no reaction, as expected. Then, Red reached out and patted Joe's head, somehow not falling over despite only one hand keeping him up and in place. "That's what I'm talking about. Thank you."

That prompted a goofy grin. "Anything else?" He told himself that his enthusiasm was because hadn't gotten what he needed yet, and definitely not because he wanted more praise. Definitely not.

"You've got no plans, right?" Red confirmed. Joe nodded and the other shuffled back and outstretched a hand. He grabbed it at first and then realized his intention and moved to grab a bit further down his arm instead. Red grabbed onto his forearms and pulled him up, Joe using the nearby pillar to aid him as the base owner backed up further. "Help me with this."

Joe rolled onto the platform rather ungracefully, stopping on his back with his head at Red's knees, smiling. "I don't see why I couldn't have climbed up on my own, but alright! I know-" His voice shifted into the 'poetry voice' and Red clapped a hand over his mouth.

"No poetry." He pointed to the side, smiling to visibly show that he was joking when his voice failed. "Get to work."

Joe saluted. "Got it!" He moved to the side, hopping up and picking up a few stone bricks. By the time the sun set and Red sent him away, the logs in the clearing had been forgotten about and the first and second level were almost finished. 

Only when he got to his own base did he realize he'd forgotten to ask questions as well.