Work Text:
It was late out, a bit past mid-night, and while it wasn't safe or practical to sleep under the stars...
It was nice out. Clear night, with the stars and moon easily visible to all players.
And it was quiet, leaving much room for thought.
And it wasn't anything against Bdubs, not at all but, inside was just...
Maybe Impulse didn't want to face reality? Maybe he'd rather keep the circling thoughts of worry to himself instead of spilling them out for anyone else to see.
He didn't want Bdubs to feel bad after all. It wasn't his fault that Impulse was partially sure that they wouldn't stick together forever. That they'd end up like the other soulbounds. It wasn't anyone's fault for Impulse's realization that nothing lasted in these worlds. That nothing mattered.
And so maybe he didn't want to face his soulmate for that one reason.
Maybe it was too hard to look the person that you feared leaving you in the eye and lie to say that everything's perfectly fine and that there are no thoughts of worry or insecurity floating around in your mind.
It was better to keep it to himself.
And it was easier to watch the stars.
It wasn't hurting him any in this moment.
And for sure it wasn't hurting him to sit in the quiet, repeating conversation he and Bdubs had with Scott and Cleo over and over.
It couldn't hurt to analyze it, right? Figure out what the problem was in the first place, why Bdubs yelled at him to begin with. Impulse needed to learn to see where he was at fault, he needed to see what he was doing wrong, and maybe the Ranch had been just what he needed. A wake-up call.
Because Impulse was a liar. He was a liar that also wanted to be the best soulmate he could be, while living in a false reality that everything was fine and that nothing ever struck a chord. He was a liar that found it easier to trick others into hating their partners just so that he didn't have to confront Bdubs on the matter that it wasn't okay to trick others, even if it made the two of them look better.
And if Bdubs could make up stories of others, what's to say he wasn't making up stories to Impulse. Or harboring some annoyance towards him. Pearl had even said Bdubs had been talking... that he had gripes that he shared.
Of course, that couldn't be true, because Bdubs cared. Surely he did otherwise he would've run off with other groups to live a happier life.
At least, Impulse would hope he would.
He hoped Bdubs would be upfront enough to tell Impulse that he was making life miserable or even just a bit annoying. But what if he wasn't?
Impulse knew Bdubs hung around other groups these past few days, and maybe hanging around other members brought to life a desire for alliances outside his own soulmate. And maybe Bdubs saw how happy some of the soulmates were without their soulbounds living alongside them... and maybe he wanted that too.
Who was to say if Impulse would ever be enough? Ever be enough for someone who was seriously tied to him. Ever be enough for anyone in any world at all?
Who was to say he wasn't helping enough? Who was to say when he made the mark, when he did live up to expectation?
Who was to say if he'd matter a world from now? It seemed alliances from prior series didn't matter all that much. Sure there was sometimes a small tie to one person to another (if Martyn and Ren were any sign of that, always finding a way back together), but Impulse wasn't tied to someone that deeply. He never mattered that much.
And even when he tried his hardest to be of some use, it seemed he still didn't matter.
And at the end of the day, Bdubs would probably run of to align himself with Etho or Cleo or someone that he held closer to his heart.
It wasn't that Impulse was jealous. Just-
Was it too much to ask? Too much to ask to just have someone as close as a friend? That one could rely on? He didn't require some close friend for all of eternity nonsense, but just some sign that he was indispensable.
Some sign that he would matter, against all odds.
That he was—
“COME IN AND GET SOME SHREEP, IMPULSE!” Bdubs poked his head outside the door, speaking at full volume despite the late hour.
“I’m getting some sleep outside!” he called back, at a much lesser volume.
“IT’S NICER INSIDE! AND SAFER!”
Impulse looked back at him, not knowing exactly how to respond to such a statement. “Well, it’s nice outside, you know, and you’ve lit up the place incredibly well! So I figured I might just sleep out here for the night.”
Bdubs shook his head, giving a small, mildly amused smile; acting as though sticking out here was silly. “Suit yourself!” He went back inside, not to be seen again.
And it got quiet once more, leaving all the more room to think.
Impulse wasn’t really tired. Not truly.
He might just stay up and watch the sky for a little longer. It was one of the few—really, probably the only thing—that ever stayed the same in these worlds. No amount of war changed the lay-out of the stars, or their brightness, their apparent color.
No mistake he made could ruin the sky above.
He might ruin everything else—the quick conversation alone proving that he was walking on a thin rope, easily aggravating Bdubs with so much as sleeping outside.
He tried to steady himself with deeper, more focused breaths. Every nerve and worry he could feel. Physically he was incredibly weak. All his feelings alone covered him in a weight that made just sitting up heavy and dizzying.
And maybe he’d fallen too far. Maybe he’d continue to spiral with no one coming out here to help.
It was fair, after all, seeing as he wasn’t much help to begin with. He didn't deserve any help if he couldn't be of help in the first place.
Stupid need to prove that he and Bdubs were the best soul bounds. Yeah, sure, he was the liar. If they'd never gone over there in the first place... Bdubs never would've found a griping point.
Cleo was so quick to divide and lack trust in the both of them, as if their 3rd Life alliance never mattered (though debatibly, Impulse was already aware it didn't matter). At the end of the day, Cleo did favor Bdubs over Impulse, but neither Cleo nor Bdubs really spoke of the world hosted over a year ago.
Impulse had been aware of that fact that the past didn't matter, sure, but to see it confirmed right in front of his eyes...
It wouldn’t be long before he didn’t matter too.
They’d make it to the end of this game, and they’d be annoyed with each other. They’d hurt the other. They’d forget about all the good times in favor of remembering the bad, the ugly.
It didn’t matter what they said now—it didn’t matter how in-sync they were, because this wouldn’t last.
Friendships and personal values never mattered outside of these games.
And maybe it was for the best.
But maybe that made this place essentially worthless.
He focused his attention to the vast sky instead. Easier on the brain, and on the heaviness in his chest (he really wasn't helping himself with dwelling on the unpleasant. And this “unpleasant” was really just him being petty and clingy and just— completely silly). He didn’t know what he was looking at really. Some people were amazing at picking out constellations, but he’d never gotten a large enough interest to learn about it himself.
He’d just settle with looking at the conglomerative of stars. It was still pretty.
He didn’t feel any lighter, looking at the world above.
But he didn’t feel so sickly selfish, just thinking about himself and how much he mattered. It didn’t matter, in the grand scheme of things, right? Didn’t matter if everyone loved or hated him or felt indifferent.
It didn’t.
Of course, he’d never believe that, though he could tell himself he didn't care.
The door opened again, this time Bdubs didn't give a greeting in a loud call. “You’re not shreepin’,” he said, though making it more as an observation.
“Have you been watching me this entire time to see if I went to sleep?”
Bdubs gave a small laugh. “No. That’s creepy! I’m no creep!” He shoved Impulse lightly, just enough to push him down to the ground, but not hurt either of them. Then he said more seriously, “I could feel that not everything was okay, and I figured if it was keeping me up and it wasn’t calming down any, then you were probably up too.”
Oh. “Sorry.”
This was one of those times the concept of soulmate was less appealing. Before at least it took longer for anyone to notice anything was wrong (of course, the people who knew Impulse well could tell when he wasn’t thinking straight, but he wouldn’t have been called out for mindsets this petty). Before at least he had a grip on emotions, but now he was obviously transparent with every worry. At least, to Bdubs he was.
“You’re worried about something. What is it?”
Impulse didn’t look up at him, opting to stay silent.
“Hm? What?”
“It’s complicated. Pretty irrational. And it doesn’t matter.”
Bdubs huffed out a breath, unsatisfied with that answer on the whole. “Pretty sure it does matter, if you're all worked up.”
“I don’t want to bother you with it. Just ‘cause you’re my soulmate, doesn’t mean you have to help me out constantly.”
Bdubs didn’t answer instantaneously, but it didn’t take long before he replied. “What’s that supposed to mean? That I don’t care outside of you being my soulmate?!”
“No— just that, that you’re not obligated. I want you to know that it’s not an expectation for you to even care at all. Everybody else doesn’t.”
“Everybody else doesn’t… what? Doesn’t care about anyone ‘sides themselves?”
Impulse stayed quiet before answering in a much smaller voice, “Doesn’t care about their soulmate.”
And they both got quiet before Bdubs exclaimed, “You think I don’t care? Why— I outta–”
“No, no. You’ve put enough to this to show that you do care, but I’m saying if you don’t want to, you’re not forced to… I know I’m not—”
“Not what?”
Impulse went strikingly silent, focus on the blades of grass so easily crushed by mistakes and poor steps, unlike the stars that weren’t affected by anything.
Bdubs spoke again, this time carefully, as if talking to a child (not speaking down to, rather, speaking with so much care), “Hey, look at me.”
Impulse only moved his field of vision a little bit, turning more to Bdubs’ direction, but not “looking at him”.
“Look at me,” he said a bit firmer, yet still mostly soft.
Impulse looked up, hating everything about making eye contact.
“Smile.”
And at this point, Impulse didn’t have a clue where Bdubs was going with this, though he tried to fake a smile in hopes that maybe, on some small chance, he could make all these emotions up to Bdubs by just complying.
But smiling seemed to make things worse, like the overwhelming pain of pretending just added one more thing, and he could feel every muscle that was moved in hopes of happiness fall, and his breathing got severely choppier.
Bdubs pulled him in a tight hug before he broke further, coincidentally breaking him much faster than otherwise. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” The words were so light as if he were talking to the most delicate person in the world (but for all the both of them knew, this might be true). “I’m not mad, and I most definitely do not hate you or am disappointed in you, okay?”
Impulse nodded, still fighting anything retaining to audible crying or hyperventilating, though this added attention didn’t help that any, surprisingly. It still hurt, even more so than before, but now it was on display as something obviously painful.
“It’s okay. It’s alright if it hurts. We can stay out here as long as you need.”
Despite the allowance of staying outside, the weight that inside held was much lighter, and Impulse would rather lie in bed underneath soft blankets than out here in the almost-humid kind of warm night air.
So they relocated inside, instead curled up in bed, halfway processing the conversation, halfway getting to sleep.
And it wasn’t the most restful, by far.
But by the end of it, Impulse was much lighter.
And things would be alright. The two of them would make it so.