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Bacon sits on red ground, absentmindedly scooping up sand and letting it slip through his fingers. He's tired as he is exhilarated, the adrenaline from winning a fight both increasing his heartrate and the way his ears stretch back as he yawns. He's distantly reminded of the way he used to sit like this, surrounded by his best friends, warm sand and rainbow walls, and a glass structure that he used to call home. But that was a season ago, a tan coat replaced by a pair of teal and saffron wings, and a crown of swirling stars with two blood-red horns.
Minute and Spoke left after the action ended, and then Mapicc soon after, to restock at their base. He chattered and joked until he was out of earshot about the amount of experience bottles Planet had and Minute's snarky 'now duel!'. Bacon is honestly a little happy (is that bad to say about your own teammate?) that the red-horned player left - he's just always so... intense, so full of emotion and anger; flushed cheeks and bruised knees and loud words so different from past friends.
Bacon relaxes into the warmth of the sand, his body aching after fighting through two days and two nights. His mind is still racing, however, the aftereffects of what remaining potions he drank pulsating faintly through his veins. He can't help but close his eyes and let his mind wander, letting the evening sunlight bake on his skin and the rare quiet of a wartorn landscape sing in his ears.
But the red on the back of his eyelids looks like blood, and the discordant winds scath the wounds two stacks of golden apples could not heal. And then Bacon's back in a hellscape, the world a little darker from a lessened number of hearts and fear blotting his vision. He hears the cacophonic sound of metal on metal, and when he licks his lips he tastes the rusty flavour of blood.
There's a gaping void in his chest - at least he feels one - where a heart, just lost, was meant to sit. There's a coldness on his skin, not from the heavy plating of armour but rather the lack thereof. His few hearts that are remaining beat too fast, and then he's running, frantically searching for an enderchest, a dead player to loot, anything he could possibly use to survive.
But of course there's nothing, not in this battered and bruised landscape, dented with craters and ruled by demigods.
Keep running, he tells himself, keep running, but he can't and his breathing is uneven, his hunger is dwindling, and there it is again - the warm; familiar; taste of blood on his tongue. Keep running, because if you don't you're better off dead but there's nothing Bacon wants more than to curl up on the ground and rest for just one single second. He feels something behind him, and suddenly there's a shadow over his head, Bacon! they call, but he has to keep running, keep running because what else does he have left to do?
"Ba-con!"
Bacon blinks.
He isn't lying on netherrack, nor blue-stained glass or the gritty floor of a crater. Instead, there's sand in his hair, a darkening sky in front of him, and there's the face of an old friend above him rather than a god's.
Shit, Bacon thinks, I fell asleep.
"Hey, Planet." He says cautiously instead, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
The boy's face is glowing, even when silhouetted against the setting sun. Bacon swears even more stars have begun orbiting around his head since the last time he saw him, which even then was barely an hour or so ago. Where does this kid even get them from?
Planet smiles that slight smile of his down at Bacon, but there's an unreadable expression on his face that unnerves him. "Tired, are we?" He jokes, in his lilted tone. Bacon's glad that Planet is feeling humourous; Mapicc would kill him if he lost another heart. Counterproductive, I know.
"A little," His voice cracks. "Good fight today, by the way. Like, you don't want to know how low you got my armour, bro." He adds nervously.
Planet just hovers above him, eyebrows furrowed, mouth in a small 'o' like he wants to say something. What does he even want?
Bacon grins warily. "Hey man, you there?" He reaches a hand up and waves it in Planet's face. Planet flinches back, and Bacon quickly drops his hand.
"Sorry." They both say. Bacon almost expects Planet to say "Jinx!", but there's nothing to be said. It's uncharacteristic of Planet to show any fear, especially now, with his new expertise in combat and the heart difference between them. Something's up, and they both know it. Planet rubs the back of his neck and sits down quietly beside Bacon, crosslegged and staring at the sky.
Bacon thinks back to his daydream - nightmare, rather - and recalls the feeling of being chased, helpless, defenceless, scared out of your mind. He's felt it a few times this season, but he knows it's never been as bad as how Planet felt at the end of the last - one death away from losing literally everything.
He's struck by a sudden, uninvited thought: maybe, he and I aren't so different. Maybe, Planet is just looking out for me.
He supposes he should sympathise, but how can you when your best friend has put an axe through your gut?
Fate's funny like that, he thinks bitterly.
"Are-" He clears his throat. "Are you ok, Bacon?" Planet asks softly.
The sunset paints the sky in ribbons of ochre and coral.
Something breaks inside of Bacon.
"Look, dude, if you're gonna kill me, just do it, alright?" Bacon snaps hotly, sitting up and facing Planet. He isn't sure where this anger has come from, hot and red and blinding, but it feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest. He's just felt so weak for so long, for seasons in a row, and here comes his best friend - ex-best friend - suddenly power hungry and actually powerful, acting like nothing happened, acting like he still cares, acting like he didn't watch Bacon bleed to death at the end of his own sword just two weeks ago.
The pain of betrayal, Bacon notes, hurts so much more than the sting of the sword that carried it out.
"What?" There's a hint of genuine confusion in Planet's voice. "Bro, what are you on about?"
"What do you mean, what are you on about?" Bacon spits. "Go ahead, stab me in the stomach. It's just Bacon, he can't do anything," He mocks. His voice turns cold. "Sound familiar?"
Planet flushes, his bright face glowing a faint pink. He had hit a nerve.
"Look, I didn't know that- what to do back then, in the nether!" He stumbles over his words. "It's Lifesteal man, I don't- like, you either kill or be killed-"
"Yeah, yeah, dog eat dog and all that shit," Bacon cuts him off. "We should know better than anyone." He shoots Planet a glare. "What about when I was regearing, at Gucci Gang? I literally just respawned, bro! That was fucked up!" He breathes. "Did last season mean nothing to you?" He looks down at the sand in his hands.
There's a dip in the conversation, and the sun shifts behind a cloud, nearing the horizon.
Planet sighs. "I really am sorry," he says, looking away.
Bacon coughs.
"I just wanted to come talk to you, y'know? Catch up? Discuss the duel? And I was going to apologise, but I guess we're even, now that I lost." He stands up, brushing the sand from his hoodie. "And I don't feel welcome here, so I'm just going to leave." He says thinly.
Bacon watches the glowing boy walk across piles of red sand, a background of warm hues and striped walls surrounding him. If he weren't leaving, the scene would be familiar. Too familiar. So Bacon squeezes his eyes shut against the painful memories, and tries to forget.
"No, Planet, wait!" Someone calls out, their voice faltering. It takes him a moment to realise it's his own, and he winces at how pathetic he sounds. Because, honestly, he is pathetic. This is a new season. Past allies are meant to be thrown away into the dust. New enemies are made, new alliances are formed. So why does it hurt so much to see Planet walking away from him?
Planet turns around. He's so bright against the sunset that he is ethereal, haunting.
Bacon swallows thickly, holds up his hands. "I'm sorry! We can talk, I- I'm just not good at this."
Planet slowly takes a step towards him. "At what?" He inquires.
He gestures at himself. "Y'know, talking, I guess. I kind of just bottle up my emotions, until I can't." He shrugs, helpless.
Planet once again gives him that smile, not pitying, but not apathetic either. "Wanna talk about it?" He offers lightly.
"Sure, I suppose." Bacon mutters and pats the ground next to him. Planet sits down, and waits for him to continue.
"It's just that I... I don't know... fuck, bro, this is too hard." He cringes, but the glowing boy waits patiently. They sit in silence, admiring the streaks of colour floating across the sky, until Bacon speaks again.
"I feel like I need to like, stay put together all the time. I need to be there for my team; Parrot's never here, and Mapicc has his days... you just gotta ignore the hollow in your chest where a heart just sat and keep grinding away, and for what? An armour set that will inevitably break, useless on the ground? Hearts that render themselves useless in the face of a more powerful adversary?" He lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
Planet blinks. "Oh, shit."
"Please shut up," A pause. "Sorry." He repeats. "I told you I'm not good at this."
Again, another pause. Planet leans into Bacon's side as the air around them grows colder; Bacon makes a small noise of protest, his body tensing, but he doesn't move. Planet seems to glow a little brighter, the sun now only a sliver of molten gold above the horizon.
"Do you miss it?" Bacon whispers, looking up at the stars that were beginning to appear. He said it so quietly that it could've been the wind, and he doesn't specify what, but both of them know what he means. Both of them remember it, all of it, like it was yesterday.
~
The fuchsia sea of all the pigs Jaron convinced them to help breed, the stench of carrots that only went away after three consecutive baths. All those hours spent grinding, down the drain, slaughtered - it was worth it, though, for all that time they spent together was time well spent.
The terrifyingly colourless walls of the obsidian prison that had imprisoned both his teammates. The catch in Bacon's breath, of fear and hope, as he realised the end portal spawned him inside it. And then the pure elation in Planet's voice when they realised they all made it out.
All those failed attempts at their poorly disguised murder scheme, turned boat tour. He recalls the red on the end of their swords that wouldn't come off for weeks on afterward.
The absolute disbelief on Parrot's face at Planet Airlines' debut flight, and the laugh on Bacon's own.
The opening of the wormhole, and the apprehension on their faces as they ran for their lives.
Planet's scream as Mapicc drove a trident through his heart.
And then, the moment they realised they were finally free.
~
"Yeah." Planet says honestly, voice slightly muffled against Bacon's shoulder. "Yeah, I miss it."
"Do you think- do you think that Three Heart Trio could happen again?" Bacon asks, even though this is a conversation spoken many times before.
Planet exhales, but it's not exasperated, it's somewhat amused. "Yes, Bacon. We have a whole lifetime of bad choices-"
"Hey!"
"- and not-so-bad choices to make," He gesticulates at the night sky, full of stars and faraway planets. "And after that, probably an infinite amount of lifetimes to live through. We'll find our way back together eventually."
Bacon continues to stare into the night. His eyes glint, but Planet can't tell if it's a reflection of the sky, or that of tears.
"But, for right now, it's not so bad having to make do with who we have." Planet finishes.
"I guess I shouldn't discredit Mapicc or Parrot that much... they are the second and third best members of Gucci Gang." Bacon jokes quietly, looking down at his hands.
"Exactly!" Planet smiles. "I'm lucky to have the Legion, and the Legion has me. You have Gucci Gang, and they're lucky to have you." He says truthfully.
"Thanks, man." Bacon mumbles.
The two sit in companionable silence, admiring the last rays of the sun as it sets. A peaceful quiet falls over the server's spawn, broken only by a few hums from Planet, until-
Planet clears his throat, looking somewhat pained. "Bacon?"
"Yeah?"
"Even though I said all that... we do both know that if Jaron comes running to us with blood gushing out of a stab wound, I'll patch him up while you play Connect 4 with him to distract him from the pain, right?"
Bacon looks down at Planet the best that he can without shifting and gives him the ungodliest side-eye known to man, a grimace on his face. "Dude, bro, you know how I am with blood. That was like, the most wholesome, deepest conversation we've ever had, but you really had to ruin it? Come on, bro." He sighs faux emotionally and elbows Planet. The tension in the air lifts away.
"Am I wrong though?" Planet challenges with a giggle. "Am I wrong, Bacon?"
"Ugh, I suppose you're right." Bacon drawls, drawing out the 'o' in suppose, rolling his eyes because it's dark and Planet wouldn't catch it.
"Did you just roll your eyes at me?" Planet says, mock offended. This bitch, Bacon thinks, smiling. He chooses not to respond. Tactically, of course.
"Girl, I'll make you pay for that! And for winning the duel too, I guess." It's not in the least bit threatening.
"Oh yeah? Well, I'll set Mape on you. You know how he gets when he hasn't fought anyone in a while." Bacon does his best imitation of an angry bloodhound, which isn't good, at all.
"Hmmmm... what if I trap you instead? The trap war is technically still going."
"You? Trap me?" Bacon scoffs. "You don't stand a chance. Sorry, but they don't call me the Trap Master for no reason."
"Sure, girl." He draws the 'u' sound out, a mirror of Bacon's sarcastic intonation.
"If you want to live, your best chance is to team up with me. Hey, we can target Jaron together! He won't know what hit him! Actually, he will. He can read his death message in the chat," He holds up his communicator, "Because of course we'll be successful. After all, I am the Trap Master." He grins.
"Nuh-uh!" Bacon feels Planet shake his head against his shoulder. "And that's unfair for Jaron. And I always do fair."
There's a moment of stillness as Bacon thinks about Planet's statement.
"Yeah right, dumbass."
"Can you shut the fuck up."
"You shut up!"
"Grahhhh!"
"Chill! Bro! I said chill!"
"Bacon?" Mapicc calls, sticking his head out of the villager pit where the Mapicc tower used to sit. They really should make an actual base soon. It's dark out, and the mobs are going to start spawning at any time. Mapicc won't admit he's worried for Bacon, no, never, he just doesn't want to give his teammate another heart for another stupid death. The courageous, brave, humble Mape, caring? No, heck no.
What was he thinking, again?
He had just finished brewing his third set of strength potions, when a message from Bacon pinged on his communicator.
<Baconnwaffles0> this planet character is SO annoying bro
<Baconnwaffles0> he just keeps yapping and yapping and yapping
That was two stacks of experience bottles ago. Man, he should really go check on Bacon. It's a miracle a death message along the lines of 'Bacon has died, again!' hasn't come through his communicator yet.
So, that's how the Mape monster, being the kind and great teammate he is, ends up jogging through the nether and through the spawn portal into a deserted and dark spawn.
"Bacon?" He calls out again. He swears under his breath. Bro, where the hell is this kid? If he's been kidnapped again, I swear to god-
His eye catches on something at the edge of his peripheral vision. Something glowing. He wanders slowly closer to the source, curious, and it's Planet. And Bacon, bro, of course. They're probably going through Spoke's list of 100+ Girls' Night Questions, or something, because where else would Bacon be other than fraternising with the enemy? No, no, not helping Mapicc stock up, hell no. Or doing something normal, like sleeping? Really? This kid, bro. Yeah, I'll let the mobs get him. Mapicc doesn't care what happens to him. Not at all. Not one single bit. Nope.