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Winning the life games was both a blessing and a curse. One that Martyn had learnt the hard way.
It was rather nice to go into the games with no memories of past alliances, no past thoughts and nothing that made you feel guilt or shame for the actions you would cause in the future games - all of that is gone the moment you win. You remember everything. You remember everyone.
You remember every past alliance, every gentle touch, every small word from the past games. From people with no memories of who you are. It's like learning to walk and talk again - learning these people who you know in the back of your head are your friends, even lovers sometimes. And sometimes, things form that otherwise wouldn’t have back on their home worlds.
At first, Martyn was angry - almost defying joining in with the secrets as a fuck you to the watchers. He remembered Ren. He remembered Mumbo. He remembered Scott. Now everything made sense. Why Grian had been so upset over being soulbound to an oblivious Scar. Why Scott seemed so upset when Jimmy only used him for his time. Why Pearl seemed to be gentler around Scott and was always willing to help him. They knew. They remembered. And that memory was painful.
How can you look at someone you once loved, once called your husband and have them look at you with a blank face?
Sitting down and watching his friends dance around with the spy glasses in their hands making jokes at each other, his raven hair curled in ways around his pointed ears that made it look so gentle and soft in the summer sun.
He was snapped out of the thoughts by Scott walking over to him, a knowing look on his face as he just smiled at him. His blue hair had been trimmed since the last time Martyn saw him, likely due to the coral ruining parts of it and needing to be cut out. Martyn hadn’t done that, Martyn had left his hair matted and ruined - barely looking after it now.
“I’m sorry” was all Scott signed before he placed a hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing it in reassurance as Martyn looked over at the same raven haired man as before. The one from his hazy memories, the one that he once shared a bed with.
“Martyn?” It was the first night of the new games, the southlands still a work in progress as they all set up makeshift tents and pushed beds closer to the fire for any type of warmth as the sun began to set.
Martyn looked up, confused at the voice before he spotted Mumbo carrying his pillow and standing just slightly in the shadows where only the fire lit up his face, he tilted his head in a silent question, asking what was wrong with the other without actually speaking.
Mumbo ended up sitting down beside him, next to the fire as he watched the flames burn and dance, starting to die out as the others slept. They didn’t actually need to take breaks or ‘first watch’ but Martyn felt the need to make sure everyone was asleep before he slept himself. So seeing Mumbo still awake was confusing as he was sure the other southlander had been asleep like the others half an hour ago.
“Everything okay?” Martyn finally broke the silence as he looked at him, saw the way he was clutching his pillow against his chest - this was Mumbo’s first time in the games and while Martyn didn’t remember the last one, he had the scars to prove he had been there at least. He knew that it was a daunting and scary experience - especially when surrounded by friends but at least they had a strong alliance here. Mumbo looked like a nervous wreck, was he always this nervous? But he looked… adorable as well. That was a surprising thought as he watched the flames dance in the others eyes, he was beautiful.
Martyn didn’t question when Mumbo started to fall asleep or when he lay his head on the other’s shoulder. Martyn didn’t question when he wrapped the lanky man in his arms and carried him back to his tent. He didn’t question when he stayed the night. He didn’t question when it became a reoccurring thing for them - no longer able to sleep without the other in their arms.
“Martyn?” it was the first day of Secret Life and Martyn was snapped from his thoughts once again - this whole keeping memory thing was really starting to get old now. Mumbo smiled at him as he now stood in front of him. “You okay, mate? You seemed lost in thought there” he teased even as his mustache seemed to twitch when he gave a playful smile.
Beautiful.
“Uh yeah, just fine. Getting used to being back, you know?” He brushed it off with a smile, adjusting the shield in his grip. The hearts along his wrist beating with the feeling of his own heart - moving perfectly in time, he desperately tried to ignore the way his heart leapt at the other being near him. He could still feel the kiss on his lips from last life. But Mumbo didn’t remember it - only he did, he needed to get over this silly crush. It was almost as bad as remembering what he and Scott had gotten up to on the coral islands, quietly giggling in the late nights under the stars. At least with Scott he knew it was just a bit of fun. He couldn’t even deny the way his heart ached seeing the taller man.
He didn’t remember.
Which would’ve been completely fine had Martyn been able to continue to avoid Mumbo, they had joined different teams. They had stayed pretty much on opposite sides of the map. Despite the fact that he was able to see over to where Mumbo lived with the other mounders from his base.
It helped having the tasks, being able to throw himself into whatever the watchers had wanted him to do for the day - his defiance for the tasks didn’t last long as soon as the hearts started to tick down and with each hit he seemed to panic more realizing just how close he was to death forcing his hand to actually listen to what the watchers had wanted. But still, the distraction helped from how his heart ached every time he was near Mumbo - every time he heard his voice or saw him nearby. It was a painful reminder.
He was still questioning how exactly Scott or Grian dealt with these feelings. Even Pearl? Though did she have someone that she had loved in the way they had? He had seen the way she seemed to linger her gaze on Gem this season, it was an all too familiar feeling.
Grian had once mentioned that sometimes, very rarely - they would have hazy memories even if they were not a winner. It’s why things felt like deja vu. They still had vague memories of a lover or of someone holding them. Even if they didn’t remember everything.
Scott had mentioned that he’d definitely seen it before as well, he’d seen that sometimes Jimmy’s gaze lingered or he hesitated on hitting Scott simply because he felt this invisible pull towards him.
Now Martyn was experiencing it himself. He saw the way that Mumbo’s gaze sometimes lingered on him. How when they were in groups he caught him staring or saw the way he refused to hurt him. He also saw how confused he looked every time he felt like that. It was painful but at least he knew that the feelings were at least similar enough that Mumbo still had his hazy memories.
That was until the night that Mumbo turned red. Martyn was sharpening his sword on top of the mountain as he watched the sun set, his communicator had been left to the side, his armour abandoned on the ground around him - he wasn’t too worried, people hadn’t come near him nor Jimmy since they turned red. Jimmy was cooking some food in their house, the peaceful night was something they had started to get used to, just the two of them.
Martyn’s head snapped up when he heard someone coming, his sword - freshly sharpened - glistening in the moonlight as he held it out, he hadn’t been expecting to see Mumbo, bloodied and broken trying to crawl up the mountain as he was out of breath. The blood was dripping down his face and his suit had been ripped and torn.
It was his first reaction to throw the sword on the ground and jump up, running over as he placed his arm around Mumbo’s waist, taking the other man’s arm around his neck. “Mumbo?” he looked so concerned at the other man. Helping him to make it up the mountain towards the house. Jimmy poked his head out, his eyes going wide seeing the state of the other.
Jimmy held the door open for the two of them as Martyn helped to carry him in, sitting him down on his bed as he grabbed some bandages. He hadn’t seen that Jimmy had gone outside to grab his armour and sword until it was stacked to the side near his bed. He quietly thanked his fellow big dog as he focused on bandaging up the other.
“What happened?” he asked softly, keeping his voice down just in case Mumbo was still adjusting to the rush of bloodlust through his veins, his ears full of blood as the red energy started to settle in his bone.
“I died” Mumbo said simply, his tone was almost monotone - like he still didn’t believe it had happened, “It burned”
The way he mentioned the burning struck Martyn in his soul, the gentle broken tone - he had been betrayed and he didn’t know how to feel about it. Grian had abandoned him in the nether, left him to burn - at least that was what Martyn had gathered.
He sat beside the raven haired man on the bed, his hand resting on the other’s thigh, “Stay.” He had barely heard Mumbo’s gentle voice, almost thinking that he’d made it up until he turned to see the other looking at him.
“I promise” Martyn whispered back, squeezing the other’s leg. Memories of last life came rushing back in, memories of a past life - memories of the two of them cuddled together to fight off the cold. The comforting feeling of his head resting on his chest.
At this moment he knew that despite the fact Mumbo did not remember him, he wanted him so badly, he would still stay. He would love him in every timeline even if Mumbo had no memories of it. He would always find him again, would always be there to pick up the stitches and repair his wounds.
Mumbo looked tired, exhausted even - after the red seemed to settle, he took a deep breath, slouching slightly. It would only be an hour or so before the need to kill became almost unbearable - killing only to satiate the need, the hunger that infected them every time.
Martyn almost jumped when Mumbo rested his head on his shoulder but he just smiled, a private fond smile to himself. Jimmy had apparently left them be, having taken some of his items and disappeared for the night - he could always rely on Jimmy to have the silent agreement when they needed the space.
He rested his head on top of the other mans, keeping him close as his heart felt full.
“I’ll stay.”