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Parrot doesn’t want to die.
He doesn’t really expect to, either. The world has kept him alive this long. He’s been dragged through hell and somehow he’s still here. He’s stopped flinching at TNT traps and bandits’ swords, thinking that there’s no way it could be the chance the universe finally seizes to get rid of him.
Parrot doesn’t want to die, he just craves the thrill of being so close to that line he can taste it.
Theo isn’t stupid. Parrot feels the weight of his stare after every battle, knows that he’s catching onto every one of Parrot’s actions.
The first time he says anything is when they’re drifting into the sky on their happy ghast, the clue book to a kingdom clutched safely between Parrot’s fingers as Boosfer searches the nether behind them.
“Did you even have a plan for half of that?” Theo’s sorting his inventory, face screwing up in frustration as he takes stock. His leggings had broken in the fight amidst Parrot’s shouts for help and his own efforts to stay alive. His voice is tinged with a vague annoyance.
Parrot’s fingertips are numb from the blasting of powerful fireworks from his crossbow. He flexes them, feels the nerves tingle, glances down and sees singe marks where they’ve been burnt.
He’d been reckless with the fireworks, shoving them into his crossbow without a care, pivoting to get in extra shots and falling behind when it slowed him down. It was dangerous and new and made his blood sing with adrenaline. It makes him shiver now, letting out a low laugh as he lies back on Sky to look up at the clouds.
Theo grimaces at him like he’s crazy.
“Yeah bro, I had one the whole time.” Parrot’s lips twitch into a smile. He’d just been found, chased down, and hurt, then spewed explosions from his hands and lived. The rush of it lingers, almost urging him to turn back and run through the same actions again.
“Looked to me like you were trying to get us killed,” Theo snaps. “If you can’t pull your weight in a fight, don’t get in the way.” It’s harsh, but the words ring with the seriousness of their escape. Theo bites through the skin of a golden apple, and the burns from a firework that had been shot too close heal over.
Parrot stares up at the sky again and wilts just a fraction, his excitement dimming.
The golden apple is pressed into his hand, and he turns his head to stare at it for a second before gripping it tighter and lifting it to his mouth. He mutters his thanks and Theo doesn’t respond.
The thrill dims even as Parrot tries to clutch onto it, leaving him vaguely sick even as the apple sits heavily in his stomach. He lays there quietly as bloody scorch marks fade back into skin.
The second time is weeks later. They’re searching for Wemmbu, and the problem has only worsened. Parrot tried to be more mindful, he swears he did, but once tension grows in the air his reason seems to break with it.
He dons an armor set that matches the knight’s, and he starts searching for trouble in a way he never has before.
He steals and schemes, and then runs when the consequences of his actions nip at his heels too sharply. The voice changer shouts, “Why are you impersonating me?!”
Parrot dodges hits on Boosfer’s front lawn. One misstep could kill him. One mistake means his guts are spilled out on the mycelium.
A mace shrieks through the air and buries itself in his shoulder. His vision flashes white, then green and gold before he can even process it. He’s flying backward and hits the ground, rolling across it. His bones scream and his eye is swelling with a bruise and Parrot laughs with exhilaration, because somehow he’s still alive.
He pushes onward, chewing through his totem stock like he can even afford to lose any. Parrot can’t see Theo’s face, but each time his totem bursts Theo lunges toward him like he wants to shield him from further danger. Something ugly wells in his chest at the sight, and he twists to put himself outside of Theo’s vision whenever possible.
Parrot keeps going, relentless even when it’s obvious that they won’t win this fight. He only stops when he sees Theo start to lag behind, his movements turning slow and armor wearing away. Parrot knows Theo, knows he shouldn’t stumble from a simple jump, knows he’s aware enough to spot the mace driving down and–
Theo’s shield swings up and splinters apart as it catches the blow, wood and iron smashed to pieces at the last possible instant.
Parrot doesn’t taste adrenaline then, only fear.
It’s a bitter shock that brings awareness as quickly as being dumped into ice. Terror claws through his lungs as he starts to scream, “RUN!” Each shout feels choking, too little, too late, not enough to save Theo as he tries desperately to retreat.
They land on the crane in sync, metal clanging beneath their boots. They guide Sky into the air, and then when Parrot blinks she’s dead.
No time to grieve. There never is, for anything.
Relief is dizzying as they fall into the nether and break the portal, moving away away away like maybe distance will fix whatever’s wrong with Parrot.
They crawl into their potion shop and curl into a corner, Theo’s arms wrapping around Parrot as he shakes. He shakes until he thinks he’ll fall apart, the nausea splitting his sides with pain as his vision blurs. He gasps apologies, grabbing at Theo’s bloodied armor until he’s proven to himself that he’s still alive.
For one terrible moment he thinks he understands Wifies. He thinks he understands his fear and his need to make sure Parrot was safe. He thinks he’s just as scared for Theo.
Parrot turns away and spits vomit onto the ground. He’s still quivering as he leans against Theo, all energy drained from his body. Parrot isn’t sure when he’d started caring so deeply for his friend, doesn’t know when he’d made the mistake of bringing someone close to his heart again, but the fear for his life had been unmistakable.
“You nearly died.” It’s Theo that chokes the words, noise muffled against Parrot’s shoulder, and they’re bonded in their awful terror. Neither of them want to let go. “Please. Care for your life more.”
Theo holds him together. Parrot’s trembling both with fright and the rush that danger brings him. His thoughts clash and tear, half of him still scared for Theo and half of him aching for near-death. Not to die, Parrot doesn’t want to die. He wants to run the potion shop with Theo and help all the poorest citizens and live long enough to see a gray hair.
But he aches to prove that the Director’s chains of safety no longer have any control over him. He aches to run into peril and not be held back, to know that every choice is his own as his armor breaks to swords and he falls through the air with the weight of any other player.
Parrot knows what’s wrong with him, but maybe it’s worse knowing when you have no idea how to fix yourself.
Theo asks if any of this is worth it. In the morning Parrot will say yes. Right now he doesn’t know.
It doesn’t get better after that. It should have driven common sense into Parrot’s brain, but it drives him apart from Theo instead.
Parrot makes huge promises to a kingdom of people. Parrot is bait, empty minecarts a target for any team that will inevitably find them. Parrot is watched by the eyes of enemies and trailed by death, and it’s the most alive he’s felt in ages. It’s like every step he takes walks the brink of danger.
If Wifies could see me now, he thinks, and walks the edge of a canyon as his horse pauses to graze. No Director jumps out to take him away to Paragon, smothering him in lies and safety. He spins on his heel and the rock crumbles under his boot, and for an instant he’s falling before he catches himself on safe ground. He stumbles and gets tangled in a berry bush, and he thinks of all the heart attacks the Director would have at the thorns that tear his skin.
This is my own life, he thinks as he pulls the branches away from his arms. I’m in control of myself, not him.
Theo is off in the distance, playing his own part, and for the moment Parrot doesn’t need to worry about his recklessness affecting his friend. He can feel the danger in the air from whatever force is watching him. He revels in it. It’s the safest he’s felt in forever.
The third time, it’s not that Theo says anything, but it’s everything that his silence implies in its place.
Theo’s alive and well. Parrot’s alive too- but it isn’t working. Nothing’s working anymore. He falls from the sky, water and split second reflexes the only barrier between him and death, and his first thought as he straightens is that he’s safe. Maybe this is Paragon, still. He’s worn out the sensation of fear until it barely registers in his mind, but still chases any amount of evidence that says he’s no longer imprisoned by the Director.
It’s been months, but he still lingers in Parrot’s thoughts and haunts his every breath. Parrot sees his shadow at the corner of his vision, bares his teeth when anyone tries to hold him back from a fight, and worries when he wakes that he’s back inside obsidian walls. He still laughs when he dances the edge of life and death, but now it’s heavy with exhaustion over excitement.
It isn’t adrenaline, it’s a sickness. It’s a thrill infected with nausea and desperation, dragging Parrot down with his stubborn need to prove his own competence and freedom.
And the worst part is that it doesn’t mean anything to anyone other than himself. He launches himself off cliffs and picks impossible fights and lets himself bleed too long between golden apples, and to Theo it’s for nothing.
Parrot sees it in his best friend’s eyes. He sees the fear that doesn’t fade once they leave battle, like he believes if he looks away Parrot will disappear.
Theo’s been stationed by Parrot’s side for days. He won’t leave– they eat meals together, make plans together, Theo attends all of Parrot’s meetings, and at the end of each day he settles in a chair in his room to sleep. It’s not one at the door, but near his bed– he goes to sleep with white knuckles curled around a potion of regeneration and his eye bags never fade in the mornings.
It’s excessive, even for a bodyguard, and it’s started to make Parrot nervous.
One day, emerging from the Northern Council to scout out more areas for farming, they find a chest directly outside labeled ‘For King Parrot’. It contains a book, and it doesn’t take much code cracking to reveal a set of mysterious coordinates.
Theo paces around and talks about how bad of an idea it is while Parrot waves him off.
“Bro, it’s fine,” he repeats for the millionth time, even as he knows it’s not fine. This is a terrible idea on all counts. No one in their right mind would follow random coordinates while knowing public opinion of them is at an all-time low.
Theo says no. Theo stashes the book in his ender chest before Parrot can snatch it back, and the two give each other the cold shoulder for the rest of the morning.
In the afternoon, Parrot’s riding his horse toward the coordinates, finally having found a way to shake Theo. He doesn’t have the book, but he doesn’t need it– he remembers the coordinates clear as day. Curiosity stirs in his gut like he’s chasing down some lost treasure again. Maybe he is, who knows what awaits him?
Theo has no right to hold him back. No right to make decisions for him. Parrot can manage his own safety just fine. Anger burns beneath his skin.
He dismounts his horse as he reaches the destination, a tunnel lined with stairs descending into the ground.
The stairway is dark and quiet. His footsteps echo back at him until he reaches the floor. Every stone room and hallway he finds is plain and empty, but something urges him onward. He thinks he sees something for a second– a nametag? His ears catch a noise that ends just after his footsteps pause, barely noticeable.
Maybe he’s imagining things.
He recognizes the signs, and he pushes on. He pushes on until there are a dozen swords aimed at his throat and blocks at his back, and it’s no longer a taste of danger but a question of how he’s going to escape with his life.
This wasn’t just a risk. This was a death wish. They’re going to deliver his corpse back to the castle and Theo will only be able to wish he’d taken the book away sooner.
Parrot aches with how much he wants to be home right now, but still, somehow, some part of him cries with relief as the Director fails to show his face.
Maybe he’s really rid of him.
They push him around and slice at his armor until it breaks, then rain blows on his body. They discuss how they want to go about it. Overhearing such a conversation is strange– Parrot learns that maybe he’ll drown, or maybe he’ll be burnt. A popular idea is starvation. Someone suggests he eat a wither rose, and Parrot can’t help shrinking back at the thought.
The wall explodes. A bird bursts into the room, a storm of violence fueled by fiery rage.
Every player falls, one after the other, piling into a mess of bodies as they’re thrown around by Theo’s fury. None of them stand a chance. Parrot is lucky he bothered to write the code’s solution in the book, or he knows Theo would have never found him. He’d have just been torn at until he broke.
Parrot stares at Theo as he finally turns to him. He knows he looks miserable, bloody, huddled against a wall and trembling with exhaustion. Blood seeps from above his eye and his head feels light. He thinks a leg may be broken.
Theo doesn’t say ‘I told you so’. Theo hands him the regen looped to his belt, waits for the potion to sink in and Parrot’s head to stop spinning, and then scoops him up to carry him up the stairs.
Every action is gentle, but he still never says a word. He feels further away than before. Parrot closes his eyes so he doesn’t have to see Theo’s distant face, and tries to calm all the conflict that roars in his mind.
Parrot’s healed, and still Theo ghosts around behind him. It’s grown annoying. Frustration prickles at Parrot’s skin as he spots Theo again just behind his shoulder, and he acts as though he hadn’t seen him.
He can handle himself. It’s fine.
Parrot’s not sure if his irritation comes from the fact he needed to be rescued at all, or the implication he’s not yet fully healed or competent, or maybe because Theo reminds him of someone. He’s acting like it’ll happen again.
“What are you doing?” He tries late that night, finally heading to his room, stopping in the doorway as Theo follows behind.
“What?” His voice is thick with exhaustion, and his eyes barely meet Parrot’s as the king turns to look at him.
“I can sleep fine alone. You have a room.”
Theo’s eyes trail from his face to the room behind him before he shakes his head. “I’m good here.”
Parrot blinks. “Okay.” He moves around Theo and shoves him further toward his quarters, walking across the hallway to Theo’s room instead. It’s petty, but Parrot’s getting desperate.
Footsteps sound behind him. Theo’s there again, chewing his lip, his brow furrowed.
“Bro.” Parrot drags a hand down his face. “I’m literally starting to feel stalked.”
“I can live with that.”
“It’s not about you, bro. It’s about me not getting a minute of privacy,” Parrot snaps. He points at Theo’s door. “Sleep. And I’ll sleep in my room. Or I swear to God I’ll disappear in the night and then where will that put us?”
Theo’s quiet. He doesn’t move as Parrot stomps back to his room, but that means he isn’t following, which Parrot will take.
The night air is still and peaceful. Parrot lies in place with silence ringing in his ears.
He falls asleep after an unbearable span of time, long after his thoughts have already exhausted him.
Parrot startles awake.
A dark shape stands before the window, looking at the outside view.
Parrot opens his mouth, ready to call for Theo, but doesn’t for long enough that he starts to make out the shape of sunglasses pushed up on the figure’s forehead.
His prepared shout comes out as a whisper.
“Theo?”
A shifting of movement. A thin sigh.
“I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m sorry.”
“I told you to sleep in your own room.”
“I’m not sleeping here.” There’s the flash of white teeth in the dim room as Theo gives him a quick smile. “Just standing. And I tried, swear it.”
Parrot pushes his blanket from his body and stands, stumbling with a sudden panic as he crosses the room and reaches for the windows. He presses against them, staring outward, heart pounding with fear stronger than he’s felt from any real thing in weeks.
There’s no obsidian. Theo stands next to him, and it is Theo, not the Director.
“Why are you here?”
“I’m worried,” Theo’s voice is small. It’s fragile, and Parrot suddenly doesn’t know what to do with it. Theo sounds scared.
“You don’t want to leave me alone.” It’s not a question, and Theo doesn’t answer. “You think I’m not safe enough with myself, and that scares you.”
Theo’s face is illuminated by the moon when he squeezes his eyes shut and nods.
“I’m not suicidal,” Parrot says it, not like he’s been accused, but as a reassurance. He’s not. Just…
“I don’t think so either,” Theo agrees, like it’s something to have an opinion on. “But you put yourself in danger all the time.”
Parrot’s just sick, with something else, with the events of so long ago that have stuck to him and damaged the way he used to think. He reaches for risk because he was deprived of it for so long, and living without it makes him think he’s back in Paragon.
“Something’s wrong with me,” he whispers it into the air, releasing an idea into the world that he never has before. “I’m stuck. I’m stuck with everything that hurts me and I try to prove that I have control by– by doing all these crazy things, just to show that I can.”
“Stop,” Theo pleads, and his voice breaks. “Please, stop. Stop. It’s killing me, Parrot, I can’t… I’m always terrified that whatever you do next will be the thing that finally kills you.”
Parrot’s stopped flinching at danger, but Theo flinches for him, certain not that the world will spare Parrot because it already has but that Parrot is digging his own grave.
“What are you going to do about it?” Parrot asks, quiet. It shatters something in the moment, maybe Theo’s hope that he’s willing to change, or maybe Parrot’s belief that he’s a kind person.
“Parrot,” Theo’s shoulders tremble. “If… if you don’t…”
You’ll put me in prison. You’ll wall me off from the world and keep me in one piece by force.
“I think I might leave.” The words feel like a wind rushing through the room, forced quickly from his lungs and striking Parrot by surprise as he stands in place. Theo sounds like he’d have rather said anything else, and the miserable lines of his face only grow more clear as he rests his forehead on the glass to stare out. His eyes shine, wet, but as much as Parrot stares he won’t turn to meet his eyes.
“Don’t.” His breath hitches. His voice rises, breaking the night’s illusion of stillness. He takes a step away from the window. “Don’t, Theo, please–”
“Why not?” Theo cries. “You seem determined to leave me!”
Theo loves differently than Wifies ever did. He doesn’t love to control, he loves by chance after someone weasels into his life, and he loves them just in order to stay doing so. He doesn’t contain them, would never think to try, sees himself as someone that anyone who cares about has taken pity upon. He sees himself as less than while the Director had seen himself as greater than the whole server. He loves without pause or exception even at the cost of himself.
He’s the one trapped by Parrot, stuck seeing him throw himself at danger after danger, and finally after months his last effort is to save himself. And he hates himself for it.
He’s ashamed that Parrot’s hurting him.
Ashamed that he can’t make Parrot fix himself.
Parrot chokes on his words as he tries to make an explanation, every thought crowding together and trying to force its way through his throat.
“You can’t,” he finally says, feeble and pained. “You can’t. Theo–”
“But will you change?” Theo asks, and it’s the only question that matters.
Parrot doesn’t speak, because he’s all too good at clamming up and shutting down, and useless at saying what he means.
Theo is patient. It’s a rare word to describe him, but just for now, he’s patient. He understands. He watches Parrot silently, finally meeting his gaze.
Parrot remembers the blinding fear he’d felt at the strike of Wemmbu’s mace back on Boosfer’s island. He remembers the way the world had nearly taken Theo from him, and the pure panic that had swallowed all thought. He tries to imagine Theo chasing after that same risk again.
“I’ll try,” he finally manages, his words truthful. It’s all he can offer and it’s everything he has. He will try with every bone in his body to change, to stop the despair on Theo’s face as he tries to tear himself away from the only thing that matters to him. “I will, I promise.”
“Okay,” Theo accepts it too easily, like he’s desperate for any reason to stay. He looks at Parrot like he's lying, but he’s listening anyway, and something sour twists in his stomach at the sight. He’ll do this for Theo. He can’t let him down, can’t disappoint him even when he expects so little.
Theo will follow him into death, but he shouldn’t have to. Theo should be able to trust that Parrot won’t drag himself into something he can’t return from just for the sake of it, and Parrot should know better than to because Theo will jump in after him until he can’t anymore.
Somehow the Director poisons him still in death. He’s an illness in his mind that makes him fear safety. Parrot sees gentleness as a lie and a threat, and hunts peril to prove that he has the freedom to.
Maybe he can let it go. Maybe he can learn to live right even with all his broken, bleeding edges. Maybe he can accept kindness when it’s Theo who’s offering it to him.
He collapses into his best friend’s offered embrace and vows that he’ll find a way to.