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Something was off.
Scott couldn't place it, but something was off.
It started small - Jimmy looked more confused than usual, when he walked downstairs to Scott making him breakfast, in more of the I-don't-know-what's-happening kind than the I-just-woke-up-and-I'm-making-it-everyone-else's-problem kind. Then, Lizzie came to his kingdom, whisked Jimmy away for a day, and he returned looking both happier and duller than ever. Hell, a month later, Joel did the same thing! Not to mention, there had been a couple of rewinds when he hadn't done anything of note.
But what really pushed Scott from confusion to suspicion was when the world rewound because of his own death for the first time since all that happened.
He'd been doing better, really, but sometimes it was just… Too much.
Jimmy had been pale and stumbling the rest of the day.
Scott kept trying to comfort him, but that just seemed to make it worse - it… It reminded him of the first time he'd died, in this world.
But- no. No he couldn't get his hopes up. That- he wouldn't- he wouldn't be able to handle being let down.
So, he ignored it.
"...Scott?" Jimmy whispered, eyes wide.
"Ah, hey Jim," Scott greeted him, slowly stepping back, putting the once-bloodied knife back into the chopping block, ignoring the half cut apple on the counter. "Something wrong?"
"Did you… Was that…" Jimmy kept glancing between Scott's throat and the put away knife frantically, before he shook his head, letting out a long, slow breath. "I'm losing it," he whispered to himself, barely audible even to Scott's elven ears. Louder, Jimmy said, "Nothing, sorry Scott."
He ignored it.
"No worries," Scott reassured him, waving a hand. "I'm here for you, love."
Jimmy smiled, but it looked more like a pained grimace. "Thank you."
He ignored it.
___
Scott was making dinner for Jimmy, Joel, Lizzie, and himself when he overheard the conversation - Jimmy had invited the three over, claiming it was some holiday he remembered from his past in the ocean with Lizzie, and even though Scott knew that was a lie, he went along with it.
"-are you certain?" Joel asked, uncharacteristically serious. Scott's ear flicked back, listening intently even as he continued prepping salmon like nothing was happening. "I know he's your husband, and you're really hopeful, but… It doesn't seem like he's shown any signs. And- he wasn't tied to the- the weird lapses in time, right?"
…They noticed? Why only now? And why was the salmon much more red than it should be? Scott blinked, realising the knife had gotten buried in his fingers while he was distracted. He pulled it out, just in time - ha, time - for it to rewind, with that sickening stuttering glitch feeling.
"See!" Joel hissed, slamming his hands on the table, both Lizzie and Jimmy shushing him. "And he's just prepping salmon. Nothing unusual! It's probably someone else, maybe Katherine, or Fwhip."
"I… But Joel…" Jimmy sniffled, sounding desperate. Most of Scott wanted nothing more than to run over and comfort him, to clutch him to his chest and assure him it would be okay, to press a gentle kiss to his head and shield him from the world. The smaller, louder part of him knew this was a fake, and that it would only hurt worse. (But then, why was Jimmy able to be sad? Scott had never seen one of the fakes be able to feel such desperate sadness like he could hear in Jimmy's voice-)
"Oh, Jimmy…" Lizzie sounded sad, a barely audible whisper. "It's okay. We miss him too. I wish they were real."
Jimmy laughed wetly. "Just not Xornoth, huh? Don't want the world to end again."
Scott slammed the knife into the cutting board - ah, that was his hand, he missed a little bit - and bit his lip, trying to keep from sobbing. They couldn't be real.
His vision blurred a bit as time rewound again, but it was with tears, not a headache from bashing his skull in on Aeor's antlers like it had once been. That was a bad day.
"Scott? Are you good?" Jimmy called tentatively, hesitantly.
"Y- yeah, I'm fine." His voice only wavered slightly. "Are you? You haven't even asked how long till dinner yet, you're making me worried," he joked, trying to sound lighthearted.
It didn't work, judging by the worried silence from all three.
Scott rolled his eyes, continuing to slice the fish.
"Love, that fish is going to be nothing more than mush soon, which, while it might be what salmon deserve, is most definitely not what we deserve for dinner," Jimmy laughed, only a little stilted.
Snorting, Scott moved the fish aside, beginning to dice the green onions instead.
"You mean you wouldn't eat bland salmon mush if I served it to you? Frankly, I'm insulted."
Jimmy's giggle sounded a bit more genuine. "Only for you, my love."
"Thank you, darling," Scott drawled, tossing the fish, green onions, a bit of butter, and a handful of seasonings in the pan, moving it around gently with a wood spoon to stop it from burning.
A small bit of fish fell out of the pan, into the little soulfire flame that powered his stove. He frowned, reaching into the flames to grab the now blackened chunk, sighing as he tossed it into the trash, watching the burns on his fingers flicker and disappear as time went back again.
The piece of fish was burning again.
He shook his head slightly, spooning the now cooked fish onto bowls of rice. Carefully, he scooped all four up, setting them down on the table, silently thanking the foresight to set the spoons out on the table instead of leaving them to him to carry.
Jimmy was staring at him, eyes wide, slightly teary.
"Something the matter, love? You look a bit ill," Scott fretted, moving to Jimmy's side instead of sitting.
Lizzie, from where she probably thought she was out of sight, drew her finger across her throat, shaking her head.
Jimmy barely spared her a glance, still watching Scott, silent save for a small, broken noise he let out.
Scott pulled his chair closer to his husband, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"
"You- I just-" Jimmy stumbled over his words, eyes wide and tearful, hands flexing and clenching rapidly. He shook his head, shrugging the hand off his shoulder. "Nothing. Sorry."
"...Are you sure?" Curse his heart; Jimmy had always been his weakness. No matter how much he tried to shove down his worry for this fake, it still wore the face of his husband, and he still cared. He had to. This world couldn't take that last bit of his humanity from him. "You look sick."
"I'm fine, Scott." Jimmy - the fake, the fake, it had to be a fake - hunched in on himself, smiling weakly. "Sorry for worrying you."
"You don't have to apologise, Jim. Everything can be a lot, sometimes. It's okay to feel things." Scott didn't look at his expression, taking a bite of the fish instead. It tasted like ash, even though he'd thrown out the burnt chunk.
"But I do have to apologise, Scott!" Jimmy cried, even as Lizzie and Joel tried to hush him frantically. "You're not even real and I- I still just want to have you here, even though I know how much it sucks to be real when everything outside of these two is fake!"
The world stuttered, rewinding, trying to fix the issue, to no avail.
Unblinking, Scott just stared. "...No."
Jimmy sat down heavily, clearly shocked.
"No?" Lizzie asked, confused, though whether about him remembering or his reaction was unclear.
"No. No, you're- you're not real. You haven't been, you're- no! Just- no. " He stood, his chair scraping loudly against the floor, and he ran.
They couldn't be real.
They couldn't.
They couldn't, because if they were aware of the time bullshit, then that meant they watched him- watched him fall apart, and did absolutely nothing.
By the time the three of them shook off the stupor of their revelation, he was already hidden away in the cave he'd made for Jimmy, for the real Jimmy, because that Jimmy - that thing - back there, it couldn't be real. It couldn't.
He hunched over, folded nearly in half under the weight of his overwhelming emotions.
His wings splayed out on the moss behind him as he dragged his fingers in the water.
Fish nibbled at his taloned fingertips, darting in and out of the seagrass he'd planted by hand, so long ago.
He didn't want to think, anymore.
Not about the fake - fake? Fake. Fake. …Fake? - versions of his friends and husband, not about this world, not about the last, nor the one before that.
"Scott? Scott! Are you in here?"
…Jimmy.
"Scott, please, we don't have to- well, we do have to talk, but it can wait until you're ready. I just… I want to make sure you're alright."
Scott stayed silent.
If his wing shifted and knocked a rock into the water, it was an accident.
He didn't want to be found, but he was getting really fucking sick of being lost.
He dug his talons into the dirt, nestling his face in the crook of his elbow.
"Scott? Oh, Scott…"
Jimmy crouched, an arm's length from his wing, and carefully settled into a sitting position, dragging one hand in the water as he watched the elf.
"I know it's… Weird, being here, love. But… Now we're here together? I can help explain to you how this works, if you-"
"I already know how it works, Jimmy." His words were muffled, but audible. "I've- when do you think I arrived here?"
Jimmy shifted. "I… I don't… I don't know. A few days ago? You were acting just like everyone else here up until tonight."
Scott was silent.
After a beat, he shifted closer to his (ex?)husband.
He was lonely.
Being alone, he could deal with. He'd done it before, when his ice was out of control, and it was honestly somewhat of a relaxing break, before he'd realised his wings had frozen over, and before… Everything else.
But to be surrounded by so many people, and to still be isolated despite that?
That was lonely.
Scott really hated being lonely.
Jimmy put a tentative hand down, palm up, fingers splayed and the delicate webbing between them stretched thin.
Ever so carefully, Scott slotted his own with them, ensuring his talons didn't tear at the membrane.
Their hands fit perfectly now, no tight squeeze from Jimmy's knobby knuckles and Scott's long, callused fingers. He didn't know whose hand had changed, in this world. That scared him.
Jimmy didn't seem to hold the same sentiment, face lighting up when he noticed.
"We match now!" A gentle squeeze to Scott's palm. "...I missed you."
"I've missed you, too," Scott murmured. "I've missed you so much." His voice broke, tears spilling over and soaking into the fabric of his sleeve.
Arms open in invitation, Jimmy sent him a tentative smile.
In one fluid movement, he used his forearms and wings to push off the ground and onto the cod hybrid, arms coming up behind him to grip his tunic as tightly as he could without ripping it.
"I'm sorry, Jimmy, this- this is all my fault, I just- I didn't want-"
Jimmy wrapped his arms around him, scaled tail snaking its way around his leg, the fin on the end cold and slightly slimy.
"Jimmy, love, I'm so sorry, " Scott sobbed, shaking his head, careful to avoid hurting his husband(...?) with his antlers. He knew how much that hurt. "I didn't want this. I didn't want this! This wasn't supposed to happen, it was supposed to be good here, it was supposed to be safe. "
"I know," Jimmy placated, pretty clearly not knowing what he was talking about. "I know, Scott. It's okay. You couldn't have known this would happen."
"But I should have! " Scott sat back, abruptly pushing away from the hug so he could be face to face with Jimmy. "I researched what the sword did! I read- I read every fucking book! And I just… I didn't know, and I should have. I… Jimmy, you don't get it. This is my fault, literally, not in a self-pity way, not in a desperate attempt to get you to comfort me, this is just- my fault. I did this. I did this. "
"Scott, what… What do you… What?" Usually, Jimmy's stumbling over his words would end with Scott finishing his sentence and kissing the tip of his nose, but now, all he gave was a grimace.
"I researched the rune blade, Jim. I knew what it was going to do, when I brought it to the fight, but I didn't think… Well. I didn't think."
It took a moment, before realisation dawned on the cod hybrid's face, and, a beat later, tears were flowing freely down his face. He'd always been the one quicker to show his emotions between the two of them, and even if Scott had been crying for a while now, that seemed to hold true.
Immediately, Jimmy jolted forwards before pulling back, glancing at Scott for permission - and receiving a nod - before tackling him into a fierce hug, careful as always of his wings.
"If you mean what I think- if you actually- Scott, please tell me I'm wrong. Please tell me you didn't- you and Xornoth- you…" He sighed. "Oh, who am I kidding. Of course you did. You never think of yourself, you silly elf. I love you, every part of you, but you might want to talk to someone about that."
They were silent for a beat.
"Actually, does therapy even work here?" Jimmy wondered, repositioning himself so he was sitting on Scott's lap, one hand resting on the elf's shoulder and the other running through his wing. "If anything negative you say is rewound…"
"Jimmy, my love, light of my afterlife, dearly beloved, if you make me think about the convoluted system behind this magic sword world I can and will divorce you."
Bright, ice blue eyes met warm golden brown. "...Would divorce work?"
" Jimmy. "
"Sorry, sorry!" He laughed, holding his hands up in surrender. It was the nicest sound Scott had heard in a long, long while.
Carefully, using the edge of his cloak, he dabbed away both of their tears.
"One way or another, Scott, we'll be alright. We've been through the cycle of life and death so many times… Maybe we deserve a break, even if it is… This."
Scott pressed his forehead to their linked hands, laughing wetly. "Yeah. Maybe this is our time off."
"We'll be alright," Jimmy repeated, determination and love present in equal parts as he spoke.
And for some inexplicable reason, Scott… Believed him.