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Ren didn’t see Impulse take the shot, too distracted by looking for Martyn across the sands. He didn’t hear the whistle as it flew, not over the din of the battle. But he felt it as the arrow slid into his chest, a bloodstain spreading on his shirt. Oh, no.
He fell to his knees, the pain red hot and burning. It was worse than the lava of Dare to Flare, it was worse than the explosion in front of Logwarts. It was so, so much worse. The sound of an explosion reached his ears, but he barely registered it.
Distantly, he heard someone calling his name, and felt hands on his shoulders. He looked up to see Bdubs worried face hovering over him. “Oh, that’s a lot of blood,” he said, sounding panicked. “That’s- I don’t think you’re supposed to lose that much blood. That’s bad. This is- this is really bad.”
He grabbed for the med kit, but Ren put out a hand to stop him. They didn’t have enough to heal him, and he didn’t want him to waste supplies on a fruitless endeavor. “D-don’t,” he croaked out, “don’t. I’m- I’m not- gonna make it.”
Bdubs face collapsed, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. “Oh, Ren,” he said, running a hand through his hair, “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t b-be,” Ren said faintly, “ you didn’t shoot me.”
Bdubs laughed shakily. “I’m glad we were allied, Ren. You’re a great friend. It was… really nice fighting beside you.”
“You as well, Bdoubleo.” he rasped. “You should- you should go. B-better they don’t get both of us. Tell Martyn- tell him I love him, okay?”
Bdubs nodded at him, then squeezed his hand. He cast one last look back at Ren as he left, then disappeared below the ground.
Ren closed his eyes. He sent one last prayer, to the gods he didn’t believe in: please, if you’re listening, keep my husband safe for me.
—
Dying hurt, Martyn discovered. It really hurt. He didn’t know how Ren had managed to get through that twice . He felt a surge of love for his husband under the pain. Speaking of, he needed to go find Ren.
He dug out his communicator as he crossed the room to his spare armor, to check who else had died. He opened the main chat, and scrolled through. Cleo had died, that sucked. And-
No. No, no, no no no.
<Renthedog was shot by impulseSV>
No, it wasn’t possible. It wasn’t real. Ren hadn’t died , he was fine , he was waiting for Martyn in the desert bunker with a huge bear hug and a kiss. He would fuss over his injuries and help him gather any of his stuff that survived, and then they’d come back home and curl up in each other’s arms. They’d stay in their valley and garden and feed the cows and wait for everything to cool down. Everything would be fine .
He had to get to the desert.
He grabbed some steak and weapons, then raced across the server to the Sandlands. His feet pounded on the ground, the ties of his headband whipping in the wind. Night descended as he ran, the sun dipping below the horizon.
He reached the desert, and stopped for a moment to marvel at the destruction. The crater was massive, wide as the entire Crastle and deep as the Flower Valley. He picked his way across to the bunker.
When he got there, his heart stopped cold in his chest. Ren was definitely there, but… he wouldn’t be giving Martyn a hug or a kiss. He wouldn’t hug or kiss him ever again.
Martyn fell to his knees beside Ren’s body, broken sobs wracking through him. He held tightly to his husband, tears and snot rubbing onto his shirt.
How did it end up like this? How had it all gone so wrong?
He heard footsteps on the sandstone, and curled tighter around Ren. He hoped maybe Logwarts would have enough empathy to leave a man in mourning, but he doubted it. Grian and Scar certainly wouldn’t.
But it was just Cleo, and he relaxed a bit as he felt her cool hand on his shoulder and heard their murmur of “Oh, Martyn…”.
They rubbed his shoulder for a few moments, then helped him sit up. Once his sobs slowed down, then turned to sniffles, she stood up and drew him to his feet. “C’mon,” they said, firmly but not unkindly, “we can’t just leave him here. Let’s bring him to the valley.”
Martyn nodded, dazed. He picked Ren up under his arms, cradling his head to his chest, while Cleo took his feet. Together, they carried him back to the Flower Valley. Back home.
They set Ren’s body down on a hill overlooking their homes. Once Cleo was satisfied that he would be fine, she left to find Bdubs. He thought about reminding her that they were free now that they had died, but elected not to. He had a feeling she was well aware.
He grabbed a shovel, and some stone bricks, and set to work burying his husband.
Far too soon, Ren was buried. Martyn carefully carved a headstone, then set it into the ground. ‘Ren Dog. Beloved Husband. Session One to Session Seven’ , it read. As a final send off, he planted an allium in front of the grave.
Kneeling in the mud, covered in blood and dirt, he made a promise- to himself and to Ren. He would avenge his husband.
Impulse was going to die.