Archive of Our Own

Spawn was blown up.

Obliterated, barren, and nothing but a shell of its former self. So many explosions, yet barely anyone bared witness to the destruction. The aftermath was stark, though.

Zam couldn't help but stare at it. Her fingers twitch at her sides, itching to get her hands on it. To reconstruct, to rebuild something that had barely existed in the first place.

Spawn had barely thrived. It was only a week into the season, of course it hadn't, no-one had any major attachments to it. Nor was it given the time, the opportunity to live. A few builds here and there, but nothing much.

Yet, that didn't stop her from picking up blocks. A stack of dirt, she placed one. Then another, then another.

She fell into the rhythm too quickly. Too smoothly, and Zam audibly huffs to no-one but herself.

Mentally, Zam is punching herself. She shouldn't have fallen into the familiar pattern, she swore she wouldn't. But just this once. Just this once she'll allow her hands to indulge, to move almost mechanically as she paced from one end to another.

Block after block. Zam promises she'll force herself to stop once she's run out of her current stack. Or at least attempt to, the shovel laying beside her is enticing, and it takes an embarrassing amount of energy to not simply pick it up to dig into the closest thing. Moving dirt, even cobble, to fill in this mess.

In a way, it feels… off. Her fingers have callouses from all the buildings last season, yet the new ones formed over old ones. Old in which Zam had them stained with blood instead. A pretty red that is currently under her skin and begging to be let out. To be shed as Zam swings, slashes, and bites at the hands that attempt to feed her.

Season five feels so long ago now, but that doesn't mean it left. It never left. It never will – Zam’s conscience makes sure of that.

There was a never-ending guilt in the way she built, but she wouldn't tell anyone that. Not a single person needs to be aware of the way Zam’s fingers clutched at her pickaxe, egging her to go hide in a wall and stalk. Not one being needed to know how she stared at Flame, or Mane, or Wemmbu, or just any one of her enemies.

Looking, observing how they moved. How there was still a voice she had long pushed to the back of her mind, yet it was still nagging and scratching to break free with every taunt she came victim to.

She's learnt to accept it by now.

Zam pauses. She had accepted it, because it was something a part of her fundamentally. It was never going to leave, but at least now as she places another dirt block Zam's come to peace with it, rather as much as she can.

It's difficult to move on from the emotional turmoil a season gives to someone, especially ones involving relationships.

Bonds were a fickle thing, and sometimes having a bond didn't mean something healthy. It meant something cruel, vengeful, and a red string tying you to someone who tries to desperately survive while you keep thinning it, testing its limits. Yet ultimately never giving the benevolence of severing to free the other.

Zam doesn't continue afterwards.

Shoving her shovel into the dirt she was halfway through digging up, she then abandons it. Taking one step back, then another, before Zam turns on her heels and jumps further into the crater.

Somehow, in a sick way, it's beautiful. It satisfies that long forgotten urge, and Zam can't help but roll her eyes at herself at the prospect of her mind singing about it. But, she moves on.

In reality, she shouldn't, and she doesn't. The moment is fleeting, soon replaced with a sort of nausea as Zam stands in the middle of it all. It evolves into something more when she sees him: Minute.

Zam frowns, walking over immediately.

By the time she reaches him, she notices immediately how… familiar he acts. She doesn't go up to him immediately, just lingers far enough away to lay undetected, but also close enough she has a clear view.

Her fingers are twitching near the buckles that hold her communicator, but she stays put. Because Minute is confused, lost even, and Zam isn't stupid. This isn't her Minute.

Minute this season wouldn't willingly place himself on the edge of a crater, out in the open away from secluded, thick foliage where he could instead by hiding. Well– admittedly, Zam was also hiding in there.

And Zam is currently an enemy, that deduction is seemingly obvious. There's never been a moment on Lifesteal where they've been close for long. Simple, fleeting times that Zam can never clasp onto for more than what feels like a flashing moment.

Zam steps forward, sword unsheathed and at the ready, stalking. Hunting, and the thrill of it satisfies something deep in her chest.

She steps on a stick; a snap, then an ear twitch and Minute is staring at her with sharp, white eyes. Easily distinguishable in the darkness of the night, and still unnerving. Even if she's been on the receiving end of Minute's glares a multitude of times already.

“Hi.”

Short and simple, with Zam attempting to keep her voice light-hearted. She has a gut which Minute this is.

There's no response, but it confirms it for her. It's obvious which it is, and Zam keeps her distance, staying put at the outskirts of the forest as Minute steps back, hesitant. It makes Zam dig her nails into her own palm.

Minute's voice is rough, unused and hoarse when he finally speaks, “What? You've had your fun, haven't you?”

It sounds bitter, it is bitter.

Zam's shoulders deflate slightly, but she understands. She'd be pretty upset if it happened to her, but well… It had. That was the whole point wasn't it? Twist whatever blind admiration Minute had for her, and make his life hell as an attempt to get back at him. To make someone else witness the things she had - Minute had said he wanted to be like Zam, afterall.

Somehow, even now, Minute continues to stand confident on his feet. At least, that's what he tries to do, but Zam had observed him well enough throughout Season Five to know better.

“No, I'm not–” Void, how was she supposed to say this, “I’m not from your season.”

“Is this another one of your schemes? You want to kick me when I'm down again?”

Minute's hand is trembling, Zam can't help but glance at the way he clenches it when he notices to keep it from doing so.

Zam sighs, “No, I'm genuine. Spawn is destroyed, this is Season Seven,” She gestures to the blown up land behind him with a nod, then back. “Plus, I don't look like her, do I?”

Fortunately, Minute doesn't immediately ignore Zam, nor questions her further. Looking her up and down, assessing. It's then Minute’s high strung shoulders lower, because Zam did have a good point. She looked nothing like his Zam.

She doesn't need to tell him of the voice that nags at her to fight and maim.

Zam steps up beside him when she finally deems him ‘relaxed’ enough. He keeps taking barely hidden glimpses at her, most likely taking in this new version of her. Honestly, Zam doesn't blame Minute, she'd be confused too if she spawned into a completely new world with people who wore the faces of her enemies.

Minute is chewing on his lip when Zam turns to look at him properly. It quickly ends when she does, because it's Minute, and Minute would rather be damned than show vulnerability. But she still remembers some of his quirks such as that. She doesn't think she'll get used to blood shot eyes on Minute, though.

He's been crying, maybe even sobbing from how he not so subtly wrings his hands together, trying to relieve the tension in his body now that Minute knows it's a different Zam. Probably also explains why his voice had sounded so rough when he spoke.

If Zam had to guess, this was right after the betrayal, probably before he even had the chance to meet up with his other teammates. Both of them are Zam's now. It's funny how life works that way.

Zam hums, then takes a seat. Swinging her legs over to hang over the ledge of Spawn's crater. She briefly eyes Minute down, gesturing at the space next to her; he gets the jist.

He copies her, taking his place next to her yet keeping a distance. Zam sees the way he takes in this mess, eyes widening as he finally observes the full extent of the destruction. The sun is rising, and it leaves the world in an orange hue, illuminating further the extent of it all. How it's been reduced to nothing but barren wasteland.

Unsurprisingly, Zam doesn't have the heart to tell Minute which team was responsible, let alone who was in it.

“You did say you'd destroy it in a way that was beautiful.”

“Pardon?”

Minute's staring at her, and Zam has a gut she might've been wrong about the timeline he had been from. It couldn't have been directly after the betrayal, especially if he remembers that.

He huffs, “You said you'd destroy Spawn in a way that's beautiful. This is it, isn't it? Your goal, your purpose.”

Zam didn't like the way Minute said that, not one bit, but she doesn't do anything. She also can't ridicule him for thinking that either - his only experience with Zam in his first, full season was with Zam tormenting him relentlessly. Unfortunately that was also the season this Minute was from. And even before that, she had gone behind his and Wemmbu's back during the Wormhole. Left them both in the dark, betraying-

Wait.

“You think it's beautiful?”

No response, Minute had returned to staring off into the distance, watching how the sun reveals more of the desolation. Of course he falls silent, he always has done this.

He drops a few lines, one hitting harder than the rest, and leaves Zam questioning his intent all over again. It's sickeningly familiar. So much so that Zam has to dig a nail into her palm to remind herself that this was actually happening.

Minute deflects, his voice returning to that same, nearly monotone tone. “How am I?”

Pausing, then, “Good.”

“‘Good’? Is that it?” Minute frowns, unaware, and unknowing to his fate. Zam doesn't want to tell him.

She instead opts for the better option.

“In Season Six you tried to be a so-called ‘villain,’” Zam begins, tossing a stick into the depths of the crater, “You didn't have the heart to commit, at least not fully. It was obvious, and everyone could see it clearly as day.”

Minute curls up, knees brought up to his chest, and he's cold. “How'd it end?”

“You just wanted to end on top, you and your team,” She says yet she doesn't mention the small animosity she still holds from that finale, “It was achieved, more or less. The season ended as peacefully as Lifesteal can be.”

It's sweet the way Zam can see the way Minute's eyes light up at that. Only momentarily, but she can't help but smile at it.

Next, Zam takes a moment to consider what she's about to say. Minute clearly wants her to continue from how he's looking at her as if she held all the knowledge and information in the world. Admiring Zam, and she feels nausea bubbling at her throat.

“I–” She chokes immediately, coughing to cover it up. Minute is still looking at her.

Fortunately, he seems to get it, and quickly averts his gaze to look back at the sunrise. She thanks the Void.

Zam chuckles, nervous, “Y'know– I said to myself before the season, during the limbo between Five and Six, how I wanted… to better myself, in a way. To recover,” Minute’s tail twitches in acknowledgement. “I wanted to be this protector of Spawn specifically, funnily enough. And- I don't know. I don't know if that was the best idea.”

“You tried though, didn't you?”

Zam sighs, kicking another rock into the crater, “I did. I tried, and I got hurt over and over because of it.”

A scoff leaves Minute, it would've almost been like a snort of amusement if it wasn't for the obvious bitterness behind it. “Who would've guessed.”

“You also tried to help,” Minute tenses at that, and Zam drops it in favour of something else. “Want to know something?” Zam really doesn't know how much longer she can keep it in.

Minute takes a moment. Then he hums a 'yes', curious.

“You inspired me.”

A deafening silence befalls both of them. Zam doesn't know if Minute heard her. He seems almost absent, not there mentally, and Zam wouldn't blame him. This isn't her Minute, and now she's dropping all of this onto him like it was just another Tuesday. Clearly, it wasn't.

She just didn't know how much longer she could keep that in, especially when it ended up being someone she once mocked for that same admiration he felt towards her in the past. Zam can see him only move in the corner of her eye to bite at one of his nails briefly.

Maybe it's good that they've fallen into quietness. It's fitting, but Zam can see the turmoil that slowly settles in Minute.

“I did. Not anymore?” His voice is unusually shaky.

It reminds Zam of when she called him, and his ‘tough guy’ facade, out when they talked all the way back then. She had waited hours to have that conversation with him.

Zam shakes her head, “No, not anymore.”

“I killed you.”

“You did, right after our conversation ended.” Zam moves to cross her legs, burying her hands in them. They were getting cold.

Minute's voice is muffled, quiet, “I don't think I've washed off the blood yet.” She knows what he means, even when his hands are void of any crimson.

“Me neither.” Zam mutters. She spent all of last season trying her best to atone, to clean and scrub til her skin was raw.

Now she's back to longing to get them dirty again; Minute didn't need to know that, though. There's a lot of things he didn't need to be told of, actually. Zam feels pity.

Minute speaks again, but his tone has changed into something surprisingly unfamiliar. “I was the one who did this, wasn't I?”

“Do you want to know?”

“No.”

That's enough of an answer as it is.

They both already know though, don't they? Minute's not stupid, and Zam spent the week hunting him down in an all too familiar fashion.

But Zam will play along, and attempt to keep Minute's mind at peace if that's what he wished for. It's not like she has anything better to do.

It ends with silence, and Minute shuffling closer. Zam doesn't push him away, nor does she when he hesitates to rest his head on her shoulder, yet she pulls him down for him despite that with a hand. Maybe it is a bit of a surprise that Minute had shown interest in doing so, but Zam will greedily take this moment while she can still.

The next time Zam meets her Minute, it'll end with their swords to each other's throats anyways.