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Jimmy was going to die. He knew this. He knew this well. Ever since that first game, oh-so long ago, when he first heard the rhyme, rushing in his ears as the last thing he heard.
Canary call,
First to fall.
It had haunted him ever since. Exiled from the Southlands, running trying for a desperate chance to live, even as he knew he wouldn't make it.
Canary call,
First to fall.
Standing on a pressure plate, the hiss of TMT filled his ears, and he knew that he was dead. He had always been. Ever since he woke up in this world, he was going to die. It was only a matter of time, place, and who. How long would they draw it out? How long would they try to make him wait, desperately trying to recucitate his body, already good as gone?
Canary call,
First to fall.
The next game, Double Life, bonded with his soulmate, something else about him changed. Bright yellow wings had sprouted from his back, feathers lining his face, and Jimmy hated them. He hated all of them. He had tried to rip them out, but didn't want his soulmate to realize. His soulmate. His soulmate would die, and it would be because of him. Him and his bright yellow canary wings, his song warning of danger to all except the miner forced to carry him down into the cave. He was sorry when he looked at that enderman a bit too long, a bit too hard, and realized what had happened. It didn't matter in the end.
Canary call,
First to fall.
Maybe, Jimmy had started thinking, maybe if I acted like someone else, then the Watchers wouldn't notice. They wouldn't know that he was different than the others. So, he hid his wings and feathers and pretended to be Joel for a bit. Joel, strong and confident in his song, Joel wouldn't be taken advantage of. Maybe Jimmy wouldn't either.
When he died again, a folly of his own hubris, it was unmistakably a sign, almost as unmistakable as a familiar symbol flashing into his vision before his eyes shut forever. He wouldn't escape the cycle.
Canary call,
First to fall.
This time he wouldn't be first. This time the canary would break out of his cage, who cared about the miners? They certainly didn't care enough about the canary. So when he saw The Ghost Rider, a mysterious figure who he couldn't quite make out from the soot appeared, he was curious. And angry, but that was a given. Who was this stranger, he had to know, if only to find out who he was going to die for next. But he had killed her, Lizzie. The crow, trying to warn him of oncoming death and destruction, murdered by his own hands.
A crow's caw,
An unforseen flaw
Ever since then his feathers had been a reddish shade at the bottom. Blood on his feathers, blood on his hands. It didn't matter that it was an accident. Nothing was fair in the Watcher's game.
"Jimmy?" A voice whispered quietly into the BAMbunker, where he slept most nights. It was Lizzie, the one he had killed/
A crow's caw,
An unforseen flaw.
Lizzie moved closer. He couldn't speak, his throat was clogged with tearrs making it impossible for sound to break through. At least, untill she hugged him.
That was when all the dams broke loose, tears streaming from his eyes as he babbled nonsense about not wanting to die, not again, not now. His hands clenched Lizzie's clothes as she rocked him back and forth, shushing him quietly until his tears died down before she pulled back.
"Do you remember the suspicious stew?" How could he not? She had gone on a rant about it, back when time itself was unnatural, speeding up and slowing down at various intervals. In the end, it had saved her when Scar's parrot was set on fire, and Jimmy had asssumed that had been the end of that.
Well, apparently not, a she pulled out a bowl from her inventory and handed it to him. "Here, take this," she said, making eye contact with him, "it'll keep you safe."
And isn't that all he really wanted? To feel safe and not like he was about to die? After all, if oxeye daisies could save a crow, maybe they could save a bloodstained canary. He giggled slightly despite the fear that still haunted him, and he was safe for now.
Somewhere else, somewhere very far away, a sister missed her seabling very much, though she couldn't quite remember who that might have been.