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Scott grimaces as he walks across the beach, the sand sticking to the soles of his feet and leaving them gritty.
He hates the way sand feels on his skin (scales, now.) Some would argue that makes the beach a terrible place for him to live, and they may be right about that. However, Scott wouldn't dream of separating himself from the water.
Scott's knees click as he sits on the shore, water reaching up to his ankles when it comes in. He's not excited for when he has to clean all of the sand off of his shorts later.
The day isn't a good one, the sky is clouded and grey, and the wind bites where Scott can still feel beneath the scales. Martyn can no doubt feel the cold more harshly than Scott can, so why is he here?
Scott watches Martyn's face— he's not afraid of his mean gill catching him, firstly, because he's always staring at Martyn, and secondly because Martyn seems worlds away. Scott isn't even sure he's noticed that he's been joined— and it's clear he's been crying. Not a lot, but there's salt stains down his cheeks. He could blame it on the wind making his eyes water if he wasn't smarter than that.
Well, that and also the fact Martyn's sitting with his knees curled up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them like he's trying to hug himself.
“What're you thinking about?” Scott knows Martyn will not tell. That's not how Martyn works. He's just hoping it'll snap him out of it, and prompt him to go back home and warm up before he catches a cold out here.
Martyn flinches, not massively, but enough to confirm Scott's suspicions that he hadn't noticed anything happening around him. He goes to respond, but his voice is hoarse, so he clears his throat.
“I– um.” His arms wrap around himself tighter, and Scott wants to replaces his arms with his own, void does he know Martyn needs it. “Just been missing people,” Martyn confesses, and it's more vulnerability than Scott could've ever begged and prayed for.
Scott's not dumb, he knows exactly who Martyn's referring to. He's only ever been close to four people, and Skizz and Cleo are here and available to hang out with if Martyn was missing them. No, Martyn misses Ren and Mumbo. Scott does not blame him.
Scott may have been on the opposite side of the war in third life, but any fool could've seen how close the Red King and his Hand were. It's not like Martyn doesn't mention him as often as he can, either.
And Mumbo... well, Scott doesn't know the man well. They never really encountered each other in last life, but he does know he and Martyn were (are?) married. He actually found that out from Cleo last season, when they were venting frustrations about Martyn to him. Unlike Ren, Martyn has not mentioned Mumbo since they've been teammates.
He has however, always worn two rings on his finger. Scott hasn't been able to get a good look at them— except when Martyn's asleep— but he can guess that one of them belongs to Martyn and the other to Mumbo. He didn't wear them both last season, if he can recall.
Martyn continues at Scott's apparent silence. “Not just missing them I guess? More like, worrying why they aren't here?” his voice is shaky. “It's stupid I already thought all of this when– when Mumbo didn't come back last season.”
Scott doesn't dare speak. If he speaks Martyn might stop talking, and he doesn't want to lose the opportunity to get into his head for once.
Martyn swallows. “But now Ren's gone this time and I feel like it's my fault. I don't know how it would be, but I still feel guilty about it.” Scott places a hand on Martyn's back, only because he's shaking. It could be because of the cold.
“It feels stupid that I care so much, because if he was here I'd probably fuck it up even more,” Martyn laughs, but it's sour. Scott is almost inclined to disagree, but before he can, Martyn's talking again. “Even if I teamed up with him I'd probably just end up stabbing him in the back– like every time.”
Scott quirks a brow. “Did I ever tell you that I was gonna betray him in third life?” Martyn's asking, but of course he knows he hasn't told him. He hasn't told anyone. “No, of course not. I did. Had it all planned out in my head, even gave it a stupid name like 'red spring'. If we lived much longer I was just gonna kill him. Thought he was holding me back, and like hell was I gonna let him win.”
Martyn licks his lips, they're dry and cracked, and Scott can read pain on his face as they undoubtedly sting. “Never got to, died before I could, and then everyone just viewed me as loyal until the end. I suppose when I went back to him in last life, that just reinforced that idea.
But I did get to that time. Did you know he wanted me and him to team up and kill you in the finale? I agreed, but I tried to blow him up instead. I probably could've won if I didn't, but...” Martyn's eyes are glazed with something unreadable, perhaps something like longing.
“I just can't stop myself. Cleo said that, and they said it was 'in my nature'. Think she was right. I'll probably do it to everyone, even... well, everyone,” It's not a mystery to Scott the words Martyn leaves unsaid there. "Even you."
It's not a shock. It's not heartbreaking. He is right, it's in Martyn's nature, and Scott has been expecting it. He'd felt Martyn's excitement at taking his green life, even if that could be chalked up to just being yellow.
It would be selfish of Scott to expect himself to be the exception to it. If Martyn could betray Ren and Mumbo, people he actually loved, why wouldn't he turn on Scott the second it benefitted him? Especially since he already has.
Martyn does not love Scott. That's something that's completely fine by him. Does he even love Martyn? Probably not. They're only together because they miss people and need to fill the holes they left behind (among other things.)
Scott's hand drops off of Martyn's back and Martyn stares daggers into the lapping waves. “...Is it kind of bad that I hate him?” Martyn starts. “I hate how stupid he is. I hate that he loves me, after I've proved I don't deserve it. After I've proved I'll always put myself before anything else— before him—”
Martyn's eyebrows are deeply furrowed, his anger apparent. “At least I know Mumbo's smarter than him, and definitely hates me for letting him die. He knows I don't deserve his love,” Martyn's fidgeting with his rings, and Scott's becoming a tiny bit worried.
Despite his worry Scott doesn't protest. Partially because he knows Martyn would stubbornly fight it until he's cross with Scott, but also because he's right, to a degree. He isn't a good person. Is he undeserving of love? Probably not, but he shouldn't receive it from people who will be hurt by him.
It's an awful thing to think, that somebody should only be loved conditionally, but Scott never claimed to be a good person either.
“You'd never be that dumb, would you?” Martyn's now facing Scott and uh oh, now Scott has to answer that— “When I stab you in the back, you'll hate me, won't you?” Scott doesn't like Martyn's use of when, he's already decided he will. It's not subconscious anymore.
And it's even more fucked up that Scott cannot honestly answer "yes" to that question. Because he really cannot blame Martyn for his own nature.
Martyn takes Scott's lack of answer as him admitting: "No, Martyn, I wouldn't hate you, because I'm an idiot." and his lip curls before he turns his head away from Scott.
“Fucking hell,” Martyn mumbles, barely audible beneath the wind. He stands, wet sand stuck to his ass. Normally Scott would offer to wipe it off and Martyn would laugh and go: "You just want an excuse to grab my ass!" and Scott would laugh along, and do as Martyn suspects. He does not offer this time.
Martyn's gone. Well, not really, he's walking down the beach back to their home, and if Scott really wanted to he could run after him and apologize for being stupid and affirm that he'd totally hate him, but no. He won't do that.
He's going to sit here and let the tide wash over him for a while.