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I can't do this anymore.
That was their first thought when they opened their eyes and saw the familiar sight of Giant's Deep in the sky and heard the sound of swaying trees around them. It felt like the hundredth time they’d done this, going from planet to planet trying to uncover this whole mystery. When they didn't die from their own stupidity, the damn sun would explode.
It was all just so tiring. There was no way out of this. They were stuck dying and dying over and over again until they solved this stupid puzzle.
The thought of never solving this and being stuck like this haunted them everyday. They just couldn't take it. There was literally no way out. The thought made tears spring to their eyes, and once they started, they couldn't quiet their sobs. They weren't getting up. They’d lay here until the damn supernova would happen. They just wanted a break.
Somehow, despite what felt like endless repeats of this same awakening, the fact that Slate was sitting only a campfire away managed to slip their mind. Only realizing this fact when they heard said Hearthian's voice.
“... Hatchling? You doing okay over there?”
Crap, how were they supposed to respond to that? They had woken up crying for no apparent reason. They could maybe try to play it off as a nightmare, but, dammit, they were just so tired of this. They wanted to tell someone the truth. The only one they could talk to was Gabbro, and they didn't even seem to be phased by this whole mess. Slate was their friend. Maybe if they tried hard enough, they could convince them the loop was real. That seemed like an okay plan, until they realized it wouldn't matter in the long run. The supernova would happen anyway and they’d do it all again. Slate wouldn't remember a thing.
They were snapped out of his spiral by said Herthian appearing in their vision. They crouched down and placed a hand on their shoulder.
“-okay? Hatchling?” Slate was speaking to them. Okay, they could do this just play it off.
They opened their mouth to reply and tell Slate that everything was perfectly fine. They could play off the sobs as something from a bad dream that they barely remembered, and they could go have this breakdown on the Atterlock in their ship, but when they opened their mouth, more sobs came out.
Slate furrowed their brows in concern. Well, they couldn't play this off now. Dammit, what could they do?
Before they could figure out a way out of this, Slate reached down and pulled them into a hug by their shoulders. They thought to move away, to run off to the Ember Twin, or somewhere that wasn't here, but stopped themself. Maybe they could let themself just have this. Give themself a break for once, even if it was a short one. One break couldn't hurt that much, could it?
Mind made up, they hugged Slate back. They gave up on controlling their sobs, there was no point.
“I- I can't do it! I've tried everything. I just can't!”
“What do you mean, hatchling? I don't understand. Is this about your launch? We could always give you more time to prepare. There's no rush.”
And those words only made them sob harder. If only they knew. They couldn't explain it. Slate wouldn't understand even if they did believe them. When they didn't answer, Slate apparently gave up on getting an answer out of them because they switched to rubbing and arm up and down their back. A few moments later they started humming an old Herthian hymn that sent a pang through their chest. It was both comforting and painful. It reminded them of the days where they were so, so curious. Wanting nothing more than to understand and explore their solar system. To learn about the Nomai. Oh how they wished they could go back.
After what felt like hours, but was probably only a few minutes, when their sobs had started to slow, Slate apparently decided their position was less than ideal because they helped them to their feet without a word and dragged their sleeping bag where it was laying perpendicular to the log he was sitting on earlier. They then grabbed their hand and settled into the sleeping bag themself. They were sitting to where their back was propped against the log. When they deemed themself comfortable, Slate used their connected hands to drag them down into the sleeping bag beside them. They settled with Slate's left arm around their shoulders and their own head resting on Slate's shoulder.
They let the quiet linger for a few minutes, with the campfire and the rustling of the trees being the only sounds around them. It was still dark out, so there weren't any other people around, thankfully.
The quiet was broken by Slate's voice, “Did you have a bad dream?”
“Something like that.” They couldn't tell them the truth.
“Do you wanna tell me about it?” Slate asked. And, oh, how they wished they could.
They chose not to speak, instead they shook their head no. Slate would understand.
“Alright, Hatchling, if you say so.”
The quiet returned and they stared above them at the stars above. Past their own solar system. Maybe it was better out there? If they could get away from the sun quick enough, maybe they could outrun the shock of the supernova. They thought about it, but deep down they knew that they couldn't abandon their friends, their family. Even if it were possible to run and settle somewhere new, they knew that they could never. And yeah, they loved their planet, but this mystery was killing them. Literally.
“You scared me pretty bad, y'know? Waking up crying like that isn't like you.” Slate spoke, probably trying to sound casual, but there was a clear undertone of worry in their voice.
It sent a pang of guilt through them. They knew it wasn't their fault, but the feeling still lingered.
They still didn't quite feel like speaking, so what they did say came up pretty muffled, both by Slate's shoulder and their lack of trying to communicate clear words.
“Yeah… sorry”
They felt like they owed them an apology, even if Slate didn't agree. They did scare them pretty bad.
“You don't have to apologize, hatchling. I'm just worried.” Slate attempted to reassure them.
They didn't reply. They weren't really sure what to say to that. They really wanted to just get their mind off of everything. The impending supernova, the Nomai, all of it, but they didn't want to sleep either because they knew that when they woke up, they’d have to continue searching for answers. Trying to solve a case that they weren't even ready for. One that they didn't ask for.
As if Slate sensed their mind starting to wander, they began to hum again. This time though, mixed in with the humming were words. The same song from before. They glanced at Slate and saw them looking up at the stars above. They glanced up themself. The Giant's Deep was just out of sight now, instead the Brittle Hollow was in view, the volcanoes on Hollow's Lantern breaking it apart. Funny that the Brittle Hollow just happened to have trapped something in it's orbit that was causing it so much harm. And there was nothing it could possibly do to stop it.
The sound of Slate's humming and the comforting feel of their arm on theirs beckoned them into a deep slumber, yet they resisted because they knew it wouldn't be here when they woke up. After a while of this battle with themself, Slate must have noticed them resisting sleep.
“Do you not want to sleep, hatchling?”
They shook their head, hoping that Slate wouldn't ask them to elaborate, but also knew that Slate most definitely would.
“Why not?”
Why not? Because it's fake. It's all fake. This will be gone when they wake up. They'll wake up alone again. Just like the dozens of times before this one. Doesn't matter how they go to sleep, because they'll die in about 10 minutes and wake up 22 minutes in the past. Where they'll wake up alone because that's how they fell asleep the night before this loop started. And they can never change that, can they? Is solving the Nomai mystery going to change this, or is it just a way to pass time? Will it ever change? Are they stuck in this damn loop forever?
They were pretty sure they were shaking because Slate's arm stopped moving and instead gripped them tighter, pulling them closer to their side.
“It's okay. You don't have to answer,” Slate murmured, “But you'll feel better if you do sleep. If it was a dream, maybe sleeping here will help. I promise you, everything will be okay. Your launch can wait.”
They felt tears well up again. Maybe they should just sleep. Despite how they'd wake up, it'd be nice to end at least one loop peacefully. At least dying in their sleep meant they couldn't see what was about to kill them.
They nodded, and felt Slate exhale a sign of relief. Slate resumed their song, and they let themself relax fully into Slate's side as they drifted off.
And when they woke up in their sleeping bag, a whole campfire away from where they fell asleep with Slate, and saw the same sight as the dozens of times before, the weight on their chest felt just a bit lighter than before. If they lingered by the campfire and spoke with Slate a little longer than the times before, nobody would notice except them.