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Joel woke with a start, teeth chattering as the cold wind whipped through the blocky trees. The fact he could feel the dirt in his white pants were not helping a bit to reassure him. He swung his legs off the edge of a cliffside he had spent the first few minutes scavenging near and almost tripped over a loose cobblestone. Pain shot through his body, mirrored from across the world. Etho’s groan echoed somewhere distant, and Joel swore under his breath.
“Really? Already?” Joel muttered, trying to get his bearings as a zombie shuffled too close for comfort. He attacked with his sword, his feet recoiling a bit as he flinched from fear. This was gonna be a long day.
“You okay over there?” Etho’s voice carried through the suspiciously square-fish-shaped icon in the botton right corner of Joel's eyesight.
“I’M FINE! I’M JUST… EXPERIENCING ALL THE PAIN IN THE WORLD!” The green-streaked man snapped, brushing dirt off his tunic he accidentally fell from a four-block jump, some payback from Etho getting him hurt every waking second.
“You’re panicking,” Etho said, his mocking tone held a nice calmness, which his soulmate would never admit to adoring– “Which is making it worse for both of us.” Joel's thoughts are stopped when he gets back to reality, slicking back his hair as he tries to control the annoyingness which is Etho's bugging.
He groaned, staggering back. “Panicking is basically survival at this point. He hit at a spider dropping from a branch, barely connecting. Pain pulsed in both their bodies. “AND NOW MY ARMS HURT!”
“See? That’s exactly what I mean,” Etho said dryly. “We survive better if you focus for two seconds.”
Joel rubbed his head, leaning against a tree after the spider spew terrifying amounts of blood for a cold-blooded creature. “Two seconds? Hard to focus for two seconds when you keep talking to me while im FIGHTING FOR MY LIFE!"
The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the trees. They were barely holding together, scavenging materials, fighting off mobs, and trying to avoid other threats to Joel's poor ADHD-having brain. Joel’s sword scraped a tree bark as he swung wildly, mirrored by Etho’s wince. “I SWEAR, if ONE of us dies, the other dies too. I CAN’T HANDLE IT!”
“You’ll be fine,” Etho replied. “Mostly.” Joel rolled with the shockwave, hitting his head on a cobblestone. Another mirrored groan followed from Etho.
Hours passed as they built a small barricade along a cliffside, breathing heavily, wounds patched as best they could. Joel sank against the wall, trying to ignore the constant dull ache radiating through both of them. “I HATE THIS. EVERYTHING HURTS AND I THINK I’M GOING TO KILL YOU BY ACCIDENT.”
“You make it sound worse than it is,” Etho said, brushing a stray lock of silver hair from his face. “Mostly, we’re alive. That’s something.”
Joel rolled his eyes but let out a tired laugh. “Alive, sure. Happy? Not even close."
Alive, sure. Happy? Not even close.
The words hung there, dramatic and heavy in a way Joel absolutely intended. He slumped harder against the stone wall like the cave itself might applaud his suffering. Outside, something groaned—zombie, probably—and Joel flipped it off instinctively, even though it couldn’t see him and definitely didn’t care.
There was a brief pause through the bond. Etho, as always, took his time responding, which Joel hated only slightly less than dying.
“…You’re catastrophizing again,” Etho finally said.
Joel scoffed. “I am being *realistic*. We’re cursed, bonded, hunted, and one papercut away from a joint funeral.”
“That’s still catastrophizing.”
“It’s ACCURATE catastrophizing.”
Etho hummed, clearly unconvinced. “You’re shaking.”
“I am cold,” Joel shot back, then immediately paused as another tremor ran through him. Okay, fine. Maybe it wasn’t just the cold. Maybe it was the adrenaline crash, the pain backlog, the constant awareness that every heartbeat wasn’t entirely his own anymore.
The cave was small, barely more than a hollow carved into the cliffside, but it was safe enough for now. Etho sat a few blocks away, calm as ever, repairing armor like this was a normal Tuesday activity and not a survival game with soul-linked death mechanics.
Joel hated how comforting that was.
He shifted his weight, wincing when his shoulder flared. Etho hissed in sync from across the cave.
“See?” Joel snapped. “THIS. This is the problem. I stub my toe and you suffer. You sneeze wrong and I collapse.”
“You fell off a cliff earlier,” Etho said mildly. “That wasn’t a stubbed toe.”
“IT WAS A STRATEGIC DESCENT.”
Etho snorted. “Sure.”
Silence followed, but not the awkward kind. More like the exhausted, end-of-the-day kind where the world feels too big and you’re too tired to fight it. The furnace crackled softly. Outside, mobs wandered, oblivious to the emotional crisis occurring five blocks underground.
Joel hugged his arms closer to his chest, scowling at nothing. “This series is stupid,” he muttered. “Three lives, shared damage, shared death. Who thought this was a good idea?”
“You signed up,” Etho reminded him.
“I was LIED to. Probably.”
Another quiet moment. Then Etho suddenly said some random piece of... Code? Joel could only hear a part of 'slash tea pea' or something like that, and poof! His linked partner appeared out if thin air like some magic act.
"AH! Oh- uh, shit. How in god's square earth did you do that, Etho?" Joel questioned, the entire existence of the world he lived in being challenged by a man with a weird mask.
"Don't mind that."
Joel absolutely minded that.
He scrambled backward on instinct, hands flailing as his boots scraped uselessly against the stone. “NOPE. NO. You do NOT get to teleport into my personal bubble and then tell me not to mind it. You just broke, like, seven laws of reality.”
Etho straightened like this was the most normal thing in the world, dusting imaginary particles off his sleeves. “It’s a command. Admin-level stuff. Very boring.”
“BORING?” Joel echoed. “You just appeared. You went from voice-in-my-head to fully corporeal man in TWO SECONDS. I almost punched you out of reflex.”
“I noticed,” Etho said, glancing pointedly at Joel’s still-raised fist. “You also would’ve taken damage from it.”
Joel froze, then slowly lowered his hand. “…Right. Mutual pain. Hate that rule.”
They stood there for a second, the air between them awkward and buzzing. Etho’s sudden presence made the cave feel smaller somehow, like the walls had crept in to listen. Joel could now properly see him—scuffed armor, faint scratches, that perpetually unreadable expression behind the mask.
“You could’ve WARNED me,” Joel muttered.
“I did,” Etho replied. “I said the command out loud.”
"That was NOT a warning. That was you speaking in tongues.”
Etho’s shoulders shook, just slightly. Laughing. The taller man slowly approached Joel, smirking. The audacity.
“What are you doing,” Joel asked, suspicious.
“Sitting,” Etho replied, sitting down beside him. Close. Not touching—yet—but close enough that Joel could feel the warmth radiating off him through armor.
Joel’s brain short-circuited briefly. “You’re invading my personal space.”
“You don’t have personal space,” Etho said. “We share a health bar.”
Joel opened his mouth to argue, then shut it. Annoyingly, Etho had a point.
“…Fine,” Joel grumbled. “But if this turns into one of those ‘bonding moments’ I’m blaming you.”
Etho smiled faintly. “Noted.”
They sat shoulder to shoulder, the contact accidental at first. Joel told himself he could move away. He didn’t. The constant ache in his chest dulled, just a little, like his body finally realized it didn’t have to stay on high alert.
Etho noticed. Of course he did.
“Your breathing evened out,” Etho said quietly.
Joel glared sideways. “Stop monitoring me like a medical device.”
“I can literally feel it.”
“STOP.”
Despite himself, Joel leaned back slightly, his shoulder pressing more firmly into Etho’s arm. He waited for a comment. A joke. Something smug.
Nothing.
Instead, Etho adjusted—slow, deliberate—angling himself so Joel had better support. His arm rested along the wall behind Joel, not quite touching, but close enough that Joel was painfully aware of it.
This was stupid. This was dangerous. This was… nice.
Joel swallowed. “If anyone finds us like this, I’m blaming you.”
“On what grounds?”
“You’re the calm one. People expect weird things from you.”
Etho chuckled softly. “You’re literally leaning on me.”
“I am TEMPORARILY utilizing you as a wall.”
“A very warm wall,” Etho added.
Joel huffed, but didn’t pull away. His head tipped sideways, resting against Etho’s shoulder almost by accident. Almost.
The bond shifted. The ever-present pain softened, spreading out instead of stabbing sharp. Joel let out a breath that came out suspiciously like relief.
“…Don’t read into this,” he muttered.
“I won’t,” Etho said, then after a beat added, “Unless you want me to.”
Joel groaned. “I hate you.”
“Feeling’s mutual,” Etho replied fondly.
Minutes passed. The furnace dimmed. Joel’s eyelids grew heavy, exhaustion dragging him down whether he liked it or not. He shifted again, seeking comfort without fully admitting that’s what he was doing.
Etho’s arm moved, finally settling around Joel’s back—light, careful, like he was bracing for Joel to bolt.
Joel froze for half a second.
Then he relaxed.
“…Okay,” he said quietly. “That’s fine. I guess.”
Etho didn’t respond, but his grip tightened just enough to be reassuring.
Joel’s brain tried to panic, this was vulnerable, this was dangerous, this was feelings. But his body overruled him completely. Warmth, steady heartbeat, shared existence. It was hard to be dramatic when someone else was literally anchoring you to the ground.
Outside, a creeper exploded somewhere distant.
Joel didn’t even flinch.
“…Wow,” he murmured. “This is actually helping. I hate that.”
Etho smiled into his hair. “I’ll treasure that admission forever.”
“Don’t you dare.”
Both of them laid on the ground, looking up as the sun was replaced by a newly moon. Etho just let Joel into his arms, and the other didn't even say anything back!
"Gone soft?" Etho said.
Joel let out a small chuckle in his head, but keeping quiet on the outside, and instead let out a sigh and reluctantly let Etho tease him to death.
They stayed like that, slowly, naturally shifting closer as the night deepened. No rush. No grand realization. Just two exhausted idiots in a cave, clinging to the only constant they had left.
Shared lives. Shared pain.
And, apparently, shared warmth.