Work Text:
“Are you not… Interested? Anymore?”
The words tumble out of her mouth like thrown stones, like she’s worked herself up to the question so bad it can’t come out straight.
“What?”
“Do you not…” it takes her a while, “Uh. Do you not want to do this? We can stop—”
“No! No. I do. I really do. I am interested, I am so incredibly interested, Zam.”
“You haven’t touched me once since I got here.”
He hadn’t even realized, but he finds his hands at his sides when he looks for them.
On a better day maybe he wouldn’t have this problem. If he weren’t so tired, if he hadn’t had a dream about her. Another dream. It happens a ridiculous amount. It’s been two years and it still won’t leave him alone.
He thought that after they’d talked, maybe the dreams would go. No dice. Sometimes it isn’t even a nightmare, just Subz and Zam inserting themselves into his life. Every time his mind needs a stock character, it grabs them out of the toybox. He dreams them as his classmates, or his enemies. He dreams that the three of them are lost at sea together. In one, he introduces them to his parents. They play volleyball on the beach. They share a hotel room. They log on Hypixel. They eat fresh fish. The two of them kneel before his throne. They come with him to a school dance—he’s in college, they don’t even have dances.
But the last dream was a bad one. It was two years ago, and he was kissing Zam, and she didn’t want it. She didn’t tell him that she didn’t want it. But the dream told him, he knew. She was afraid of him. She was starting to hate him. He watched his own body from the outside, just 18, his babyface and his claws. Watched himself push her down, press himself against her, press their noses together and stare at her, corner her, eat her alive.
He heard his own voice ask her whether or not she was sure. Please, are you happy? Zam, are you happy? Do you like this? Is it enough? Should I slow down?
She said yes, yes, yes, yes, no. It wasn’t the truth.
She lied. He made her have to lie. He didn’t know. But that wasn’t true—on some level, he had to have known. There wasn’t a thing he could do to change it. Paralyzed, trapped outside of his own body.
It wasn’t real. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t think it was real. They hadn’t ever kissed. But it didn’t matter. On some level, he had to have known. On some level, he had to have known. And kept going, because he was selfish. Because she had said yes. But the words didn’t matter.
The first time they kissed it was—the first time they kissed it was Season 5. And Zam had kissed him . And she hadn’t asked. She just did it. She was holding him hostage and she kissed him in front of Mapicc and it felt like she was making fun of him. But he wanted it. Of course he wanted it. He kept trying to follow her lips even as she broke away, got laughed at, and it took him out of his body for a moment. The laughter sent him back in time. But he had wanted it. The words didn’t matter.
He felt lucky to have anything. He felt… but it wasn’t real. He doesn’t think it was real. He doesn’t remember kissing her.
That’s all done with now, it’s buried. He doesn’t have to think about it anymore. Vitalasy was buried, and now he isn’t. They stand again above his grave, and Zam wants something from him. He would have killed himself for her to want him. No, not would have. He did do that.
She furnished this room for him. There’s a guillotine in the corner and flowers in the window. It was the first time Vitalasy had just built a house in this game, since well before any of this had begun.
He has everything he ever wanted, and he can’t do it. When he was a god, all he wanted was to be human again. He isn’t a god, but he doesn’t feel human.
When Season 4 ended, he watched hours of footage. Watched himself through Zam’s eyes and drew far away from his body. He had already heard the way she talked about him. He remembers breaking a rule, opening her stream and hearing I kind of wanted him to do that. Playing it back again and again, burning the idea into his mind. She hates you, there’s no winning, and she likes you better dead. She tried to get rid of you herself.
Most of the time, Vitalasy is alive. But not today.
It wasn’t suicide. It was just stepping away. He was never dead. He hated people calling it that…
His body hit the earth like a stone through a window, shrapnel across the ground.
When he doubted her, he held the apple to his chest. Proof that she had thought about him, at least that once. Orange flowers in a sandstone window. Later, she stripped the flower from him. He was uprooted from her garden and excised from her world. Lifesteal belonged to PrinceZam.
There’s a more pressing issue. She wants you to touch her.
“Oh—oh. I’m sorry. Uh—” he stammers, an inch away from her face.
“It’s okay, you don’t… have to?” she says. But it’s weird. It’s weird, isn’t it? Her tone turns up at the end, puzzling at him, deciphering a mixed signal. He’s not usually like this. Usually he touches. He crowds her space. There are friendly punches and loving touches, his skin is warm, and his heart beats.
No. He can. He can do it. He has to be able to do it. He reaches a hand to her cheek. He leans in. Keep your claws sheathed. It’s okay. She’s telling you to do it. Keep your claws sheathed.
Her lips are soft. He presses her body against the wall, her body so small beneath his. There’s a guillotine in the corner of the room, and a bloodstain on the floor. He tangles his hand in her hair, careful not to pull.
Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed.
What does he do next? What do people even do? What does she want from him? What does she want him to be?
Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed.
He doesn’t think he’s enjoying the kiss. He doesn’t know why. He has everything he ever wanted, and he can’t do it.
Keep your—
“Are you crying?”
Fuck. He jolts backwards, leaving her there against the wall.
“Hey—no, it’s—it’s okay, you can… do you want me to…?”
Everything he does is wrong. Everything he’s ever done is wrong. It’s wrong to play god, and it’s wrong to kiss her. “I’m sorry.”
“Aren’t you always telling me not to say that?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Vitalasy?”
“Are you afraid of me?”
“What?”
“You were before, right?” he asks. It’s all so confusing. Most days he understands. He likes to think he knows what her problems are. He likes to think he knows what his own problems are. But he doesn’t feel like himself. He feels 18.
“You’re on 5 hearts.” she laughs.
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“I’m not afraid of you.”
The problem is that it sounds like a lie. “I wish you would just do whatever you wanted to me.”
“I’m not that person anymore!” He’s getting deja-vu, but backwards. We should just do what you say, right? Do you think we’re gonna let that happen? No but that’s exactly it, you should order me to do what you guys want me to do! What? “I’m trying to prove to you that I’m not—”
“I feel like I'm going to hurt you.”
“What?”
“I feel like I'm going to hurt you. If I touch you. If I kiss you. If I—”
“But I want you to do those things! I’m telling you that I want it.”
“There’s a part of me, and usually it isn’t—usually this part of me isn’t in charge. But it is today. There’s a part of me that can’t believe a single thing you tell me.” He takes a deep breath. She’s looking at him and he can’t read her eyes. “There were so many things where, you told me it was okay, and then it wasn’t. I don’t,” his speech breaks up, the words get further and further apart, like they each live in a world all their own, what always happens when he’s upset, “want, to hurt you. I don’t want you to—I don't want—I don't want—” he takes a deep breath. In and out again. “There wasn’t anything left to lose. When you were trying to be my enemy. But now, if I hurt you, I lose you. Again. I don’t even have you, really, I only—I only see you like, twice a year? And that makes it worse , because if I mess this up, then—and this is just—this is just me ruining it. I’m sorry. I didn’t really want you to know any of this, because it isn’t worth it. We don’t have the kind of relationship that would make any of this worth dealing with. I’m not your partner . And I never will be. I'm supposed to be better now, I don't know why this happens. I don't want you to see me like this.”
“Okay. We’re not doing this. Come here.”
“But—” before he can get another word out she has him in her arms. She guides him down to the hammock, their shared weight rocking it back and forth. The motion isn’t soothing, it just makes him feel sick.
“I love you.” her arms wrapped tight around him, an alien affection.
He doesn’t say, I don’t believe you. Normally, he could believe it. The 18 year old can’t. The 18 year old is still sitting across a fire, staring at a grave. The 18 year old is standing in front of a crowd. The 18 year old never quite turned up alive again. he had a dignity that this Vitalasy lost when he let Zam kiss him, months later. I know he doesn’t deserve me.
“You loved Subz. Not me.”
It’s silent for a moment. That’s one of the things he wanted to say to her back then, but couldn’t, because he knew it was true.
“That isn’t true.” she says.
“You hated me.”
“I didn’t.”
“...You acted like you hated me.”
She swallows, “I'm sorry.”
“That doesn’t explain any of it. You said sorry before and you never meant it. I can’t believe a word you say." He sounds like a petulant child. He feels out of time.
“I’m… I’m on a new server you know, the Realm, something Tubbo is doing—”
“Okay. Congratulations?”
“And I met BadBoyHalo. And he looks so much like you. It’s freaky. He sounds like you too, sometimes. You talk the same way. Sometimes. He does the language thing. And he’s scary, he can fly, and he keeps threatening me.”
What do you say to that? Is he supposed to apologize? He isn’t like that anymore, he really isn’t—he stopped . That was the Vitalasy from the dream. He isn’t. He isn’t . Keep your claws sheathed. Keep your claws sheathed.
“And it freaks me out really bad, obviously, but like—but,” Zam pauses, “all it does is make me miss you. He’s like–he’s like, you, if I hadn’t—if—” she sounds a little choked up, just a little. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Zam cry, in spite of everything. It’s always made him feel self conscious in the face of her, how easy he cries. Like he can’t stop showing her his weaknesses. “I don't know how to say this. I think it’s my fault. All of this. It’s almost a relief? To know that you feel this way. That I did hurt you. It’s always… It was just about me last time. Which is also my fault.”
“It made sense to be scared. Of course you were scared. It’s not—it’s not your fault that I was scary. I was scary. I had power over you. I lied to you.” he swallows, “Maybe I deserved it.”
“I like being scared, Vitalasy.”
“But I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Can you agree that what happened to me in Season 4 was traumatic?”
“Yes. of course I can.”
“So was what happened to you. It wasn’t normal. None of this is normal.”
“I’m the one who found the exploit.”
“It wasn’t just that. All of it. Nobody—everyone acts like I'm crazy! But I'm not! I’m not crazy! It was bad! It was bad for me, and it was bad for you, too. And I couldn’t talk to anyone about it, because they would just tell me that you were bad. But it wasn’t just you.” They aren’t looking at each other. Zam talks into his shoulder. Vitalasy stares out of his stupid heart shaped window with the pink glass. A bird lands at the edge of the pool below the house to drink. Flowers bend in the wind. His grave lies beneath the flowers, and his grave is empty.
“It’s like, you knew that I wanted you to be the villain. And I think you knew why, because I was afraid of you, because I enjoy my own pain , or whatever, because there’s something wrong with me, whatever. I didn’t understand what I wanted. I thought it was fucked up for me to want it. Maybe it is fucked up. None of this is normal. But it is the truth.”
“I always knew what to do with Subz.”
“Huh?”
“I could do anything to him, and it would always be okay. That isn’t normal, is it?” or maybe it wasn’t okay. Maybe he never knew anything. The world looks wrong, through the glass.
“I think that’s how I feel about Mapicc.”
“....Huh.”
“Like, he can do anything to me. And it’s always going to be okay. I would always forgive him. Or… or I would enjoy it, in the first place.”
“Because you know him. And it’s like you can read his mind. He doesn’t have to tell you, you don’t have to tell him, you just know.”
“Mhm. But with you I have to talk. And it’s scary. I’ve started talking to Mapicc too. And it’s really scary. Because there are problems. It isn’t just… it can’t just be the thing where you try to read each other’s minds forever. It doesn’t hold up. He needs things from me. He needs reassurance. I’m bad at that.” He curls Zam’s hair around his claw, absently. She breathes, in and out. “I guess it’s part of growing up.”
“Subz and I never talked. Not like this. When we did talk, it was just part of the game.”
“And now he’s gone.”
“I told him to come back, and he did. He didn’t tell me that he didn’t want to do it. He just does these things. That’s bad, isn’t it?”
“I didn’t know how to talk to Subz either.”
“I know I was just acting like you were like Subz. I didn't know how to do anything else. I really tried to talk, once I realized. But I couldn't ever say all of it. We had an audience. I felt cornered. And nobody listened.”
“I think Lifesteal makes it hard to talk. Harder than normal.”
“I’ve never had anything like what I had with Subz anywhere else.”
“This is so weird.”
“What is?”
“Talking to you.”
Vitalasy glances down, away from the window. There’s blood seeping through his fingers. “Are you real?”
“What?” She doesn’t notice the blood in her hair, and she still isn’t looking at him.
“Is this conversation really happening? Why am I here? It's April. I have school.”
The bird takes off from the shore, outside the window. “It's not that implausible. We talked last week.”
“What did we talk about?” he insists.
“I told you I joined the Realm, and met BadBoyHalo.”
“And he reminded you of me. That's where the conversation ended.”
When a person is socially ostracized, some animal part of their mind considers the matter life or death. To not belong is to be dead.
A candle flickers. “Why wouldn’t I be real?”
Trying to stay alive, you might do things you don’t want to do. You might say things you don’t mean.
“Zam never said any of this to me.”
You might make yourself smaller.
A candle flickers and goes out. Her hair is tangled between his claws. He panics, pulling, trying to get away. There’s blood in his mouth. He doesn’t know where it came from, but he can taste it.
“And you never said any of this to her, did you?”
An empty hammock sways back and forth.