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It's like the world only began a couple of days ago.
Bacon sits on the very edge of a bed that's pushed up against a cold stone wall. The sheets are already creased. There's dirt on the covers, and one of the legs is slightly at the wrong angle. Mapicc had kicked it in a fit of frustration, and Bacon already knows that none of them are going to bother fixing it.
What was the point?
Parrot has barely been seen. He hadn't wanted to stick with them, that was obvious to everyone with or without a functioning pair of eyes. He'd said as much when they'd first extended out an invitation - only to come crawling back a couple of hours later, when he'd realised exactly how cruel the world could be to someone on their own.
Bacon doubts he'd be around enough to notice that the leg was wonky. He almost certainly has a hole of his own somewhere. Another bed for him to sleep in, chests full of supplies that he doesn't want them to find out about, and a mirror where he can constantly check his back for knives.
Even if he notices, he wouldn't waste any of his time on attempting to fix it.
Mapicc simply doesn't care enough. He's more likely to kick out another leg before anything else. His voice carries across the field, even now. He'd thrown on another chestplate and pair of boots as soon as he'd respawned in the room (after kicking the bed, obviously), and then stormed out. It's been half an hour, but he hasn't stopped complaining once.
And Bacon-
He kind of likes the way that the bed slides down to one side.
It feels like his whole world is leaning slightly. Not too noticeable, but still a rush of blood to one side of his head. His shoulders are at different angles when he presses his palms into the mattress. There's every chance that the frame will simply give out, of course, but that's the last thing on his mind at the moment.
"I can't believe it!" Mapicc says, from outside. He's talking to Bacon at the same time as not expecting an answer. "He's evil! How did he find us! We were barely there for more than a minute, and we didn't do anything to him!"
Bacon's hand brushes against his stomach. The ghost of a sword in his gut sends a twinge of pain through his body.
Mapicc talks like the world is bright and full of colour. He feels everything with an anger a hundred times stronger than Bacon could ever imagine. They'd all spawned in on ten hearts, so they can't have ever felt anything lower or higher before that point. But Mapicc acts like he's not used to being this weak.
He complains about being caught off guard, when it had been a pretty fair fight. If it had been the other way around, Mapicc wouldn't have hesitated to spill blood onto the warm nether floor. He's got a gleam to his eyes that Bacon just can't match.
Mapicc had offered Parrot a place on their team despite the fact that they'd barely spoken before this.
Mapicc acts like he's never met Planet before.
When Bacon had lost his heart to the sword in his gut, the loss had felt familiar. The world had gotten a little colder, but it was still so much warmer than what he was used to. The slot where it had been didn't seem empty, but instead as if he was much more unused to it being filled.
When Bacon had looked up into Planet's eyes, his expression had seemed familiar.
Bacon stands up. The bed creaks beneath him. The covers are still crumpled, and the leg hasn't moved from its odd angle. The stone walls of their hole-in-the-mountain house are cool as he pushes open the door.
For a moment, he thinks he's in a mesa. The grass beneath his feet sinks like coloured sand, the sky is blue and the walls are striped with bands of brown, orange and red. There are two figures in front of him instead of one. A huge structure of glass, and the beating of a heart in his chest.
It's strange to still be thinking of Spawn after leaving a couple of hours ago. Even stranger, since he doesn't remember anyone placing glass before he left.
"Mapicc," Bacon says, "When Planet killed us-"
Mapicc's head immediately looks up, and his eyes narrow. "Ugh," he says, "That absolute dickhead. I still can't believe it! If Parrot was here we would have been able to take him."
"He's been practising," Bacon gently corrects.
Mapicc frowns. "Who, Parrot? Lil bro's not been practising, he's off thinking we don't know about his secret base. I meant numbers. There's no way Planet would have been able to take all three of us, I mean, just the number of extra hits-"
Bacon hadn't been talking about Parrot.
He's not sure how he knows how long Planet spent practising the same manoeuvre that ended up burying a blade in his stomach.
He's not sure why he'd been so shocked at the pain. Not the loss of the heart, but something else.
He feels like he's known Planet his entire life.
The swing of his arms is like they've practised together. The way the colours melt together on his hoodie, the spinning stars around him that would have made anyone else dizzy. He hadn't spoken a word when he'd attached them, but it was easy to imagine the lilt of his voice. The way he'd roll his eyes and exactly how they'd bounce off each other with insults and jokes.
Bacon looks at Planet and he feels like he's looking at his home. Then he remembers the hole in his gut.
"That's not what I meant. Did... you feel like you recognised him?"
Mapicc pulls such a face that Bacon immediately knows that he doesn't feel the same way. Mapicc looks at him like he's insane. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
Recognise hadn't been the right word.
It no longer matters.
"Never mind," Bacon says, and when Mapicc is still staring at him like he's crazy, he offers a weak, "Fuck off."
He feels like he could turn around, and Planet would be right there.
He feels like he'd expect to be followed and killed and laughed at, and that there would be no malice behind the action. He feels like he could have it returned as soon as he asked, even as Planet had disappeared with their lives only half an hour ago.
He feels like he trusts them.
Maybe not on surface level. The sword through his stomach had already proved that. If he came face-to-face with Planet again, he doesn't doubt that he'd hesitate to do it again. Bacon would swing an axe right back, and he wouldn't hold back as they fought.
But he trusts what Planet has to say deeper than that. When Mapicc complains that Planet didn't have a reason, Bacon makes sure to keep his mouth closed. When he accuses them of lying, Bacon thinks that Planet wouldn't lie - not about something like that.
He steps away from Mapicc, but there's not really anywhere else to go. To the stone room with the broken bed, or the spiral that feels like it should have clear walls. The mesa-spawn that feels wrong, because it's not somewhere that he's pretty sure he's imagined.
To Planet, and someone else who has a face that he's sure he'd recognise as soon as he saw them.
He feels like he's known Planet for an entire lifetime. Maybe more than one.
It isn't a problem, because although he's not sure how to feel about the tightness in his chest whenever he thinks about it, it doesn't feel bad.
It's a problem, because he'd smiled when he'd first seen Planet standing amongst the red and the lava and the fire. His hand hadn't gone to his weapon, and he'd felt like he was looking into the face of a friend.
It's a problem, because there hadn't been any recognition in Planet's eyes as he'd stabbed him through the gut.
And Bacon doesn't know what to do about that.