Chapter Text
Martyn wakes up with a jolt. Beads of cold sweat are working their way down from his hairline, and he groans as he runs his fingers through it putting the sweat back. His nails aren’t quite claws yet, but they’re definitely sharper than they were when he went to sleep. He runs a finger along his ears and yep, those are different now too. Soft and flexible, rounded at the ends, not pointed like a wolf’s...
He shakes his head. It was a dream. Nothing more.
Of course it had to be dogs huh.
He looks around the room, thankfully back to normal. Just the two beds squashed together with chests in one corner and the coal in the furnace quietly crackling away in the other. He starts to adjust himself in the bed, groaning at the stiffness of the angle he’d gone to sleep in, but stops at the sound of a whimper.
He turns around and sees Tim, back facing him, curled up on his side, shaking ever so slightly. Looks like Martyn wasn’t the only one having bad dreams. Not hard to see why, them both dying like that. It happened so fast, and neither of them wanted to talk about it after everything else.
He moved to settle back in under the blankets but then Timmy made another sound. This one was more concrete, like he was trying to say something. Martyn was half tempted to try and wake him up, but the shaking had stopped, and he didn’t want to ruin what little good sleep Timmy was getting. Maybe it’s different this time. He finished readjusting, and sat there for a moment, listening to the half formed words Timmy was muttering.
“Wh… wh… w-who...” Tim shook his head slightly, and seemed to try again. “Wh… who are you… who are you.”
Martyn frowned. That… didn’t sit right. This whole thing didn’t sit right.
He’d never had the opportunity to ask any of the others here, and Grian certainly wouldn’t have known. He wasn’t around long enough back then for the dreams, when the watchers had gotten tired of feeding on ambient emotions and tried out new tricks. Something about whenever they, or any of the others, were more present made Tim start talking in his sleep. And when he started talking, it was never a good dream he was talking to.
Martyn sighed into his hands. There was a trick he used to use in these situations, but he’d only managed to do it a few times, after first contact with the listeners. His ears twitched, it’d been a long time. But if Timmy’s getting prophetic visions, and in now of all circumstances, someone should be there to pull him out.
Martyn scoots closer to Tim and carefully touches his forehead to the base of Tim’s neck. The head or ears would be better, but he doesn’t want to risk pulling him out of the dream too quickly, so this will have to do. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and begins to listen in on Timmy’s dream.
_______
It’s dark.
Martyn can’t see anything, but he can feel a presence. A tense one that that.
“Answer the question!”
Oh, there’s Tim.
“Why are you here?! Who are you?” Jim waits a moment, before grunting in frustration.
Martyn hears what sounds like pacing, but he can’t tell if Tim’s walking in circles or trying to get closer to who or what he’s talking to. It’d probably not make a difference; dream logic and all.
Jimmy runs his fingers through his hair, Martyn can hear him pick something out of it. “I know you,” he begins again. “I’ve seen you before. You’re always there at the end of it all, right?” Martyn really wishes that he had eyes at this point, to see who or what Tim’s speaking to.
“When… when I die. Because I’m always the first to go right? Is that what this is about. To bring about the end?” Nothing responds. Jimmy takes a breath and composes himself. “You know, after the second time I thought it was just a coincidence. An awful one, and of course no one could hear me during all of that, but it was just a coincidence.”
Martyn tries to think about that, but Jimmy continues. “It was harder to ignore in Double Life. Those last few days, Tango… he knew something was up. I wasn’t sleeping right and my back hurt like nothing else. I saw those stupid yellow feathers in my hair. He set one on fire by mistake. And then the enderman… well you know that part.”
Wait. Feathers?
There’s a clicking sound that whatever Jimmy is talking to makes. It sounds like a bird call, but with an echo to it that feels like something bigger. Much much bigger.
“Do you know how hard it is to hide, when you start growing wings?” Jimmy starts again and there’s more tension in his voice, like he’s shaking. “When you end up teaming with the only other avian on the server? And you can’t even fly? And the whole time, you’re falling. You’re falling. And there’s feathers pouring out of your back. And all you can hear is screaming.”
What was it…
There’s a memory that’s echoing in Martyn’s mind. Something that he can’t quite access, something that rumbles deep, saturated with malice and amusement.
Something about a bird. A fall. And a cage…
“SAY SOMETHING!” Jimmy all but screams at whatever it is. Martyn hears wind rushing and a piercing call of a songbird that rings in his ears. If Martyn had a physical form in this space, he’d be doubled over clutching his ears. He can only imagine what Tim is feeling.
There’s a pregnant pause in the air. Martyn can hear Tim catch his breath after hearing that. “So that’s it then? That’s all you have to say? No ‘sorry mate, I wish things could be better’, no light at the end of the tunnel, no nothing. Just ‘seeya’ and sod off is that it?!”
The entity… whatever it is… It clicks and sings at Jimmy again and he growls back at it. “And what if I don’t come back this time? From this… this stupid cruse. What then? What then you stupid bird!” The bird (guess it is a bird?) clicks again, a ticking noise that feels like spiders crawling up and down Martyn’s spine. Tim seems unfazed.
“Four times! Four times you and everyone and everything else. I died four times! I bet you’re hoping for five, you sick-“
The bird squawks at him. The sound echoes and burrows itself into every nook and cranny of Martyn’s head, blaring like a siren and leaving his ears ringing.
A moment passes, and it sings another long mournful note. Jimmy scoffs. “I don’t need your pity. Why are you even bothering with me?” The bird sings again, a much harsher tone, Jimmy shouts back at it. “What could you possibly offer?!”
The bird calls again, but this time with overlapping voices: a mournful call, a frantic chirp, a dying breath, and a deep roar.
“THEN TELL ME!"
A wind whips up around Jimmy and Martyn’s presence, accompanied by a chorus of screeches and voices crying out. Martyn has to concentrate, but he swears he can hear his own voice in the cacophony.
Whatever the bird has said, it’s left Jimmy speechless.
“I… what?”
For the first time, Martyn hears a heavy thud. The only other indication that there’s something physical in this dreamscape with Timmy. The bird thing draws closer and repeats itself. Martyn feels his stomach drop.
“No… you’re out of your mind. I…” Jimmy stammers back from the bird. “What that I would… kill Martyn?”
Martyn feels his stomach drop. It’d be efficient, he’ll give it that.
“But… no, no! You’re insane! I would never betray Martyn like that!”
The bird chirps at him, snapping its beak like a clap of thunder.
“He’s all I have!” Jimmy shouts at it. “I’m not going to kill him just to keep myself alive!”
THEN YOU WILL DIE A FAILURE.
The force of its words nearly throws Martyn out of the dream entirely. He still can’t see anything, but afterimages of feathers have burned themselves into his eyes. Bright canary yellow.
“If you hate me so much then why don’t you just kill me yourself.” Jimmy grunts as he stands back up from the shock wave. “Just get it over with.”
The canary screams in his face. But Jimmy doesn’t fall.
“I’m not going to kill anyone just to prolong my own life.”
YOU CHOOSE THE PATH OF A COWARD. OF A FOOL.
“So what if I’m a fool!? Why should someone else have to die for that!”
WHAT DIFFERENCE DOES IT MAKE. IN A GAME OF DEATH.
The voice of the canary keeps distorting, as if the other players are joining the chorus.
“Then let them die! Let them kill themselves! Or you kill them, I don’t care! But I won’t be the one to do it. I’m not going to play by these stupid rules!”
THEN YOU WILL DIE AGAIN.
The canary shrieks, Martyn can feel tears streaming down his cheeks as gusts of wind lash around them.
UNTIL YOU LEARN.
YOU WILL DIE.
AND DIE.
AND DIE.
AND DIE.
AND DIE.
The shrieking abruptly stops.
It’s quiet.
There’s a fluttering, and the sound of a bird falling to the ground, choking on its dying breath.
And then Martyn hears the sounds of distant explosions, and of an arrow singing through the air and hitting its target with a thud. He hears faint screams and crying, and the sounds of fire.
He hears swords clash against plate mail, Tim’s voice saying “No I can’t! I can’t be out!”. He hears the sound of Grian shouting, of his own voice in the confusion, and a final thud into the ground.
Wait. No…
He hears the sounds of an enderman’s growl, turning into a deafening scream. The sound of a shield breaking, of bared teeth and unearthly shrieking. Distantly, he hears Tango calling out.
No, no no no.
Martyn hears the sounds of Joel and Grian, drunk on the rush of their killing, telling Timmy to push the mine cart off the bridge. Then his screaming as he falls from the sky, wind rushing past him as Tim goes silent in shock.
NO!
_______
Martyn opens his eyes. There’s no time. He needs to act now. He grabs Tim’s shoulders and starts shaking him, shouting “TIMMY WAKE UP!” Jimmy gasps as his eyes shoot open. He starts to fight Martyn off of him, finally shoving him off and only then starting to realize what’s happening and where he is.
The two of them sit there silently, just breathing. Jimmy stares at Martyn, his eyes slowly coming more into focus. Martyn looks him over and can’t help grimacing as he sees yellow feathers peaking out of Tim’s hair.
Confusingly, though, he notices a small spatter of blood across Tim’s face.
“Martyn your-“ Jimmy raises a hand up to his own nose, then his ear. Martyn does the same, pulling it back to see a small pool of blood trickling down from his palm.
Definitely overdid it with the listening. Martyn lets out a small laugh. “Bit out of practice, I guess.”
Jimmy tries to laugh as well, but as he more fully wakes up, the dream finally sinking it, any levity left in his face falls dead on the blankets.
“Martyn I…” Jimmy starts, “I’m… scared.”
He looks back up at Martyn, tears starting to well in his eyes. “I’m… I’m sorry. I can’t-“
Before he can finish the thought, Martyn cuts him off in a tight embrace.
“Shut up.”
Martyn holds him there, tight as he can, feeling shakes turn into sobs as Tim returns the hug.
“I’m… I’m so tired, Martyn.” Jimmy cries, muffled into Martyn’s shoulder. He loosens the hug slightly, running a cautious hand along Tim’s shoulders. He can’t feel any wings or bumps, but he feels a line of short stumpy feathers that have emerged down the length of Tim’s spine. There’s a cold spot forming on his shirt where Tim’s crying but he cannot be bothered to care.
They sit there like that, with Martyn making slow circles in Tim’s back while he mutters occasional nonsense into Martyn’s chest. For a while at least, until he’s muttered himself silent.
Martyn stares out the window of their shack, listening to Tim’s breathing even out as he watches the night begin to turn. He’s trying not to notice the hairs on his arms, thicker and softer than before, standing on end. He sighs. It’s not something he can deal with now, especially not with Timmy out of sorts like this.
Carefully, he leans back down, still holding Tim but letting him settle into a more comfortable position. Tim hasn’t let go either, but his grip has slackened as the panic finally rolls off of him and sleep returns.
Martyn chuckles quietly to himself. He wouldn’t even be upset if Tim did betray him. He’s had such a run of it, and honestly Martyn kindof deserves.. Not that he ever would. Even if he wasn’t really a dog, he was loyal like one, to a fault.
He sighs, and nestles down next to Tim to find whatever sleep he can before the sun crests the canyon walls.
It just had to be dogs, huh.