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“Pearl! There you are!”
From where she’s at in her little crevice, his voice sounds like thunder, booming and bouncing off the walls. She slaps her hands over her ears, and she can feel them twitching anxiously under her fingers. She groans, more exhausted than annoyed.
“Impulse, you jerk!” she barks, voice loud despite her small size. “You scared the life outta me!”
Impulse’s laughter breaks through her pout, though, warm and giggly and just a tad bit awkward. He’s always a little awkward, Pearl has learned, whether he means to be or not. There’s some charm to that, she thinks.
“Sorry, sorry,” he says, and even if she can’t see his face, she knows he’s smiling. Whether it’s the wobbly one he makes when he’s embarrassed or the smirk when he’s proud of himself, she doesn’t know. “Didn’t mean to startle ‘ya.”
He crouches down, peeking into the small hole she’s dug for herself, hidden behind some chests and tall blades of grass. His eyes crinkle when he spots her, and she can finally see his face in full. It’s a mix of both, she decides. He’s probably just happy he finally found her.
Impulse’s brow furrows after a few seconds of assessing her situation, one raising as she sees confusion dance behind his eyes. “What’re you doing in there? We’ve been looking for you for a while now.”
“Really?” Pearl asks, and she hates how she almost sounds desperate, like she wanted them to miss her. Maybe she did. “Oh… sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Impulse is quick to tell her, waving a large (normal sized) hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad I found you.”
It’s her turn to smile awkwardly, shaking her head. She doesn’t really know what to say, so she doesn’t say anything at all. She pulls her legs closer, resting her arms on top of her tiny knees.
The silence feels odd. Impulse breaks it. “So, uh… why’re you hiding in here?”
Pearl shrugs. She knows why. She bets Cleo and Scott do, too. She hopes they do, at least. “I don’t know… just wanted some space, I guess.”
“Ah, I get that,” Impulse nods to himself, biting the inside of his cheek. He glances around what she can only assume is the island before his eyes land back at her. “Mind if I join you?”
Pearl raises a brow, and her hesitation immediately triggers a ramble, Impulse’s cheeks beginning to burn. “It’s okay if not! I mean, you want alone time, I get that! Me being here isn’t very alone time-y. I don’t wanna interrupt, I’m sorry if I’m interrupting. I can go—”
“No,” Pearl interrupts him, and his big eyes shoot to stare at her. They almost look scared. Her smile turns more pitiful. “You can come inside.”
Impulse blinks at her a good few times. “Really?”
“Yeah,” she replies, sitting up a little straighter, patting the spot beside her. “Shrink your big butt down and get in here.”
His expression quickly melts into something calmer, a sigh of relief passing past his lips. “Awesome! Okay, gimme a sec—”
Pearl can’t help but laugh as his face scrunches up and he begins to grow smaller and smaller. He laughs along with her, swatting at the entrance to her mini cave. “Stop laughing! This stuff takes time!”
“Mhm, yep,” she giggles, eyes trained on him as he slowly but surely shrinks enough to fit through the hole. “Alright, c’mere.”
Impulse slips past some grass that’s suddenly awfully tall, sneaking inside. His nose twitches as tiny specks of dirt land on him, bringing a hand up to brush them off his shoulders. “So… a dirt hole. Very relaxing.”
“If you don’t like it, you can leave—” “No!” he shakes his head, walking towards her and plopping down by her side. He gestures to the hastily dug walls like they’re something magnificent. “No, no, it’s nice! It’s, uh… a cool DIY project!”
Pearl doesn’t even try to stifle the cackle that leaves her. “You don’t have to lie, Impulse, this hole sucks.”
He shakes his head, chuckling. “Well, I didn’t wanna say anything… but yeah. This hole is definitely… not the best hole you could’ve dug. It’s very dirty.”
“You’ll survive,” Pearl hums, elbowing him playfully as she settles back into hunching over herself, arms folded atop her knees. He lets out a quiet “ow” before laughing shakily. “Yeah, yeah…”
Silence falls over them again. Pearl can’t tell if it’s better or worse now that they’re side by side. Still, she doesn’t say a word. A part of her wants to, but she just can’t seem to bring herself to open her mouth.
Impulse, almost as if reading her mind, decides to speak up instead. “It’s been a long day, huh?”
He sounds a little tired when he says it. Pearl’s tired, too. She shrugs. “I guess… a lot happened today.”
“Yeah,” Impulse chuckles, a deep breath leaving him. “The wildcard? Insane! I never realized how weird changing size was… and the pale garden? Those creakings were so creepy! Oh, and don’t even get me started on the cows…”
Pearl rests her cheek against her arm, just watching him ramble, admiring the way his hands move when he talks. A part of her thinks it’s sweet that the cows were his biggest concern. She wishes she could get upset about the little things like that instead. Maybe then she wouldn’t feel so tired.
She’s not exhausted because of the wildcard or the creakings or the cows, though. No, she’s got other things filling her head, weighing her down. Things she knows Impulse is none the wiser about. Oh, to be so ignorant.
He wasn’t even there. She has no right to be mad at him for not knowing why she’s upset, to get frustrated that he doesn’t feel the same. It’s not his fault all this is happening again… she just got unlucky. She never forgets. She knows they don’t, either. The cycle repeats.
She’s so, so, so tired. She can still hear them laughing from above, snickering and teasing her. Belittling her. She’s never felt so small in her life, and it’s not because of the wildcard.
Pearl doesn’t even realize how long she’s been staring until Impulse’s voice hits her ears. “Pearl?”
They twitch, her eyes finally focusing on his face, on the frown tugging at his lips. “Hm?”
“…you okay?” he asks, and his voice is surprisingly soft. It makes her stomach twist.
“Yeah,” she shoots back, and she’s so caught up in her thoughts that she doesn’t even try to make it sound convincing. “I’m fine.”
Impulse’s frown only grows. He pulls his knees up to his chest, arms folding and giving his head a place to rest. He’s staring at her… mimicking her. “You sure?”
Pearl purses her lips, glancing away. She can’t look at him when he does that. She doesn’t know why, she just can’t. Her eyes trail over the cracks and crevices in the dirt instead, almost getting lost in the shadows that creep into them. She sighs.
“You wouldn’t get it,” is all she says.
She doesn’t have to see him to know he’s raising a brow at her. “What do you mean?”
“You just…” she sucks a breath in, hugging her knees tighter. “You wouldn’t understand, Impulse.”
She lets the quiet linger, trying not to think about how his face must be contorting, how perplexed and concerned he might be. Keyword being might. A part of her is convinced he doesn’t even care. He wouldn’t be the first person.
“Try me,” he says suddenly, and she swallows the groan that bubbles in her throat. “I don’t want you bottling stuff up, Pearl. That’s not healthy.”
She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t because she knows he’s right. It’s not healthy. And yet she does it anyway. She can’t bring herself to speak.
“…we’re a team, Pearl,” he adds, tone firm but gentle. “We’re friends. I’m here for you.”
She grips at her sleeves subconsciously, nails digging into the fabric. Her throat feels tight. She hates it. She hates how much it’s getting to her. Those stupid words.
She can hear a faint shuffling, and after a moment she can sense his hand by her shoulder. Her skin feels tingly. His hand doesn’t move any further. It just hovers. The anticipation makes her stomach hurt.
She’s stuck waiting. She doesn’t know which would be worse: a gentle pat or a harsh slap. They both sound painful. At least she’s familiar with the latter.
Pearl senses him pulling away. She tells herself she’s relieved. She tries to ignore the small part of her that wishes he wouldn’t have.
“You don’t have to tell me,” Impulse finally says, and Pearl swears his voice sounds a little shaky. “I won’t force you. I know words can be… hard. But I’m here to listen if you do ever find them. I promise.”
If she could, she’d tuck her tail between her legs. Her eyes feel warm and wet. She buries her face in her arms.
“You weren’t even here,” she blurts out, muffled by her sleeves. “You don’t even know what they said.”
“What who said?” he asks without skipping a beat. Almost like he was expecting it. Pearl huffs.
“Scott and Cleo…” she confesses, and her voice is suddenly so much smaller. Less frustrated, more sad. Defeated.
She can hear the confusion in his voice. “What? What’d they say?”
Pearl can’t even stop herself. The words come tumbling out like a rockslide. “We were just… talking about stuff, while you were off getting your cows. And I… well, we brought up Double Life, y’know? Because… because it just… felt really familiar.”
“I wanted to talk about how upset that season made me… how I didn’t want a repeat of all those horrible things. For all our sakes.” Her tail thumps against the dirt floor. “And y’know what they did..? They laughed at me.”
Her eyes are twitching. She tells herself it’s because she's angry, not because of the tears threatening to spill.
“They told me it was all my fault, that I was in the wrong for getting mad at them for leaving me. That I started all of it. But I didn’t start it! They did!”
She’s not crying. Her voice is just shaking because she’s frustrated, that’s it. “That season was hell for me, but no, all that is null and void because I won. Yeah, hah, that totally makes all that damage a-okay! All those horrible things they put me through don’t matter because I got a crown! Aren’t I so lucky?”
Her hands move to her hair, gripping the messy strands and tugging. “They just… they wouldn’t stop laughing! I was choking back tears and they were laughing!”
“Hey, hey, woah—” Calloused hands rest over hers. She jolts, a frantic sob escaping her, clawing its way out of her throat. Impulse shushes her. “It’s okay, shh, it’s alright—”
“It’s not!” Pearl nearly yells, swatting desperately at his hands like a caged animal. “It’s not fine, don’t freakin’ tell me it’s fine—”
His hands pull back at that, and it only makes her sob harder. No matter how angry she is, she prays she didn’t scare him. She cares about him, she can’t push him away, too. She can’t—
“Okay,” Impulse says, voice trembling. She’d shrink in on herself if she wasn’t already so small. “No, I get that completely… I’m sorry.”
She gasps for air, pulling her head up a little to catch some breath. “Don’t,” she manages. She never even glances at him. “Don’t be sorry, you… just… it’s whatever.”
“It’s not whatever,” he refutes, hands falling back to his knees, resting atop them. “If it’s making you this upset, then it’s not just whatever. It means a lot to you… and I… I’m sorry they can’t see that.”
Pearl hiccups, chest spasming as she tries to even her breathing. She feels so embarrassed. She shouldn’t be crying, especially not in front of him. She doesn’t even have the strength to stop herself. She feels so weak.
The silence envelops them again. She tries to focus on the sounds outside, on the tiny waves lapping at the island’s shore and the leaves shaking in the wind. She feels like those leaves, the waves her tears. They make her feel seen. It’s a shame she can never find that solace in other people.
“…I know how it feels.”
Impulse’s words drag her away from her distraction. She sniffles. “…what?”
Pearl can feel the beats of hesitation. He’s scared. She is, too.
“I know how it feels,” he repeats himself. “To want that closure. To want to be seen and heard and taken seriously. And I… I know how it feels when you don’t get that.”
Her head cranes a little, just enough to sneak a glance at him. He almost looks embarrassed, lips quivering slightly as he grips his knees. She doesn’t speak, so he does instead.
“I’ll never understand what you went through that season,” he starts, and she watches his throat bob as he swallows. “I mean, I had it pretty well off… Bdubs and I, y’know… we were married. We were happy. We were so happy, actually, that we wanted to make sure nobody could be as happy as us… isn’t that silly?”
Impulse chuckles to himself as though it were something nostalgic. To him, it probably was. “But even if things were better for me… they weren’t perfect. Bdubs still killed me. And he knew he killed me. He knew he missed and it was his fault… he told me himself when we woke up in bed together.”
Pearl watches his brow furrow. Never once does she interrupt him, just listening. “But y’know what he did next? He started denying it. He told me straight to my face that he missed, and then suddenly it was Joel and Etho’s fault, and then it was your dogs, and then it was whatever else he could blame. It was never his fault. That’s how it is with that guy. Nothing is ever his fault.”
“That was kinda what did it for me… what really made me upset. He knew he hurt me, and yet he never apologized. Not for Third Life, and not then, either. He’s just… allergic to accountability, I guess.”
Impulse laughs to himself, but Pearl can see the tears welling in his eyes. “I tried bringing it up in Limited Life. I gave him a clock… sweet talked and buttered him up… was as gentle and non-confrontational as I could possibly be. All I wanted was closure… an apology. I just needed to know he felt sorry.”
His nose twitches as a scowl tugs at his lips. “And y’know what he said when I told him about all the bad things he did to me?”
Impulse’s eyes meet hers, and as much as she wants to, Pearl doesn’t look away. She feels like a statue, still and stuck and oddly calm. Almost like she’s in a trance.
“…he said it was all good for him,” he exclaims, voice cracking a little. A tear cascades down his cheek. “All those betrayals, all those deaths, all those horrible things he did… they didn’t matter. They didn’t matter because he always came out on top. He was never the one to suffer. I was.”
He takes a deep breath, and his throat tightens, eyes glistening in the faint light peeking in through the hole. “He laughed at me. I told him about all the times he hurt me, and he laughed at me. He looked me right in the eye and smiled and told me all those awful things he did were good. And for a moment, just a fleeting moment… I swore I could kill him on green.”
“…but I didn’t,” Impulse squeaks, shrugging as tears slide down his cheeks. “I smiled. I gave him the clock. I let him back in. And I think a part of me truly believed him at first… maybe that’s why all those vows of revenge died whenever he came around.”
Impulse breathes heavily, bringing a hand up to wipe at his face. “It’s just… it’s a completely different level of infuriating. I swear my blood boiled like lava whenever he came around. It was just, like… white hot anger seering through me. I swear my vision went red sometimes when I looked at him.”
“…yeah,” Pearl manages to speak, voice soft and scratchy. “Yeah… you can’t even describe it, y’know..? It’s just… a lot.”
Impulse nods. “Exactly. It’s different from normal frustration. Sometimes people just don’t understand what they did, or maybe they didn’t even mean to… but he knew. He knew exactly what he did. And he hung it over my head because he knew I’d let him. God… I swear he got a kick outta seeing me try to hold myself together.”
Pearl hums quietly to herself. Her gaze travels around his face, locked on the way the shadows creep into the bags under his eyes. She feels tired for him.
“They know,” she huffs, sniffling. “They have to… they have to know that they hurt me.”
Impulse is still for a moment before he nods again. His eyes look so sad as he stares into hers. “Yeah… I’m sure they do.”
Pearl’s lips are locked in a frown. Her brow hurts from how long and hard she’s been furrowing it. “How did you do it?”
He tilts his head a little. “Do what?”
“How did you get through it?” she asks, a desperate look on her face. Impulse smiles solemnly at her.
“I didn’t,” he says simply. “I just smiled and took it until someone came around and gave me that final push I needed.”
“I used to think I’d get over it on my own… but I couldn’t,” he exclaims, pursing his lips. He sucks in a deep breath. “It wasn’t until I found solidarity in others he had hurt that I finally got the strength to put my foot down. Because it’s scary, y’know? Standing up for yourself…”
“But it’s not as scary when you’ve got someone by your side.” His smile grows a little warmer. “Someone who knows how you feel… someone who wants to help… it’s nice. It makes you feel a little less alone.”
Pearl just stares at him. It’s all she can do, really. She doesn’t even try to stop the tears from falling. For once, she doesn’t feel like she has to.
She looks into his watery eyes, watching the fear and sadness dancing behind them. She knows it hurts, remembering all those horrible things. She knows verbalizing them must hurt even more. She wonders if he’s ever told anybody all that. From the raw anguish hanging in the air, she assumes not.
The hole is quiet. For once, Impulse doesn’t break it. His lips are just as sealed as hers. He stares back at her, into her wild eyes, and his brow slants up as more and more tears fall from his own.
There’s nothing but sympathy behind them, Pearl realizes. No, not just sympathy. Empathy. Like he understands all the terrified thoughts inside her head. She knows his is filled with just as many.
She sees him. She thinks he sees her, too.
Her voice breaks. “You’ll help me, right..?”
She feels so pathetic, so small and weak. If it were anyone else, she’d be riddled with nothing but shame. But they’re crying together. Maybe that makes it okay.
Impulse lets out something akin to a soft coo, nodding as he reaches out and gingerly rests a hand on her arm, gentle and soothing. She doesn’t fight it. She melts into it. “Of course, Pearl.”
A relieved sob breaches her trembling lips as she cries, eyes locked on his hand like it’s the only thing she can process. It’s comforting. It’s foreign and weird and new, but it’s comforting.
Pearl can’t even muster a coherent thank you, instead just leaning closer to him, hiccups bubbling in her throat as the tears continue to spill. Impulse doesn’t say anything more. He just wraps an arm around her, pulling her closer.
Neither of them care about the tears staining each other’s clothes or how tightly they’re clinging onto one another. She cries and he cries and they both just drown in the sadness that settles over the both of them, crashing down like a wave. Neither of them fight it. They both just cry.
Pearl’s trembling hands scramble to hold him, digging into his shirt, grabbing at him desperately. A part of her feels like if she doesn’t, he’ll slip right through her fingers like sand. The thought alone only makes her sob harder.
Impulse shushes her between his own sniffles, rocking her back and forth, slow and steady. She can’t understand a word he’s saying, but she knows it’s something along the lines of it’s okay, I’ve got you, we’ll get through this.
Together.
—
“Where did those two go?” Scott asks, carefully making his way out of the impromptu strip mine under their set up. “First Pearl, now Impulse? What, did they shrink so small they just poofed out of existence?”
Cleo laughs, shaking their head. “Oh, I’m sure they’re ‘round here somewhere. This wildcard makes moving an absolute pain. They couldn’t have gotten far.”
Scott shrugs before he nods. “Yeah, that’s true…” He looks up at the sky, counting the stars twinkling above as the sunset melts into the night. “It’s getting late… maybe they’re already tucked in for the night—”
He can barely finish his thought before he hears Cleo’s loud cooing, his pointy ears twitching at the sound. He’s about to ask them what they’re on about before the zombie in question beckons him over.
Scott goes willingly, slowly approaching the wall of chests. He raises a brow, following Cleo’s gaze to a small hole dug into the dirt behind. He can’t help but smile.
“Well, would you look at that…” he says with a soft chuckle. “Guess I was right.”
As he’d assumed, Pearl and Impulse were huddled up together, passed out in each other’s arms. Their tails are entangled, Impulse’s wrapped tightly around hers as it wags back and forth ever so slightly in her sleep. Neither of them stir, even with the watchful eyes and laughter echoing off the walls.
Cleo giggles, trying to keep their voice down as they point at their two teammates cooped up in the small crevice. “Aww, aren’t they just so cute? So tiny… oh, I could just pinch their little cheeks…”
Scott admires the two, a gentle smile on his face. “It’s good to see them getting along…” He looks up at Cleo. “Y’know, I really think he’ll get through to her.”
Cleo nods along. “Mhm… I’m sure. Maybe he’ll teach her how to finally, y’know… let go. Chill out a bit.”
Scott laughs quietly, crossing his arms. “Yeah, she needs that… it felt a little too Double Life-y earlier. Gotta make sure that doesn’t happen again, huh?”
They chuckle in response. “Oh, yeah, definitely… she’ll get over it. Just give it time or whatever. It’ll be fine.”
With a couple more hushed laughs, the other two leave to get settled for the night, somewhere less… small.
They’ll never know what it feels like to feel small like that, to cower away in a hastily dug hole to wallow in your own anguish. And maybe they don’t need to. Pearl and Impulse are alright being small on their own.