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Zedaph felt wrong. He, Impulse, and Tango were hanging out, building together and working on small redstone projects. Most of the season had passed Zedaph by while he was stuck back in time, but Tango and Impulse were doing their best to bring him up to date. Inevitably, they’d show him something he already knew about. Zedaph bit his tongue. He’d rather not interrupt them to tell them he already knew stuff.
Grian remembering had a chain reaction on the server. New hope was given to everyone, including Zedaph. Would things finally return to normal? Maybe… just not yet. The more Zedaph hung out with who used to be his best friends in the world, the further away he got. It was like there was a force pulling him away from them rather than closer. Grian also got an interrogation from the two, which wasn’t great for him. The builder was well acquainted with repressed memories and being forced to remember things he physically couldn’t wasn’t his favorite thing in the world.
All he remembered were parts of the base swap, anyway.
Zedaph didn’t know if he should call Tango and Impulse’s dedication to remember him sweet or concerning.
“So, what do you think about this, Zed?” Tango asked and laid out a blueprint in front of a dazed and daydreaming Zedaph. He snapped himself back into reality and nodded.
“Looks great! Is there any way to make this section of redstone smaller? We’d have to adjust the build otherwise.”
“Sadly not,” Tango chuckled, “but don’t worry, I’ve got a seamless way to fit it into the build.”
“Oh?”
Tango gave Zedaph a thumbs up and trotted back away. Zedaph was about to follow him when a sudden urge held him still. Shivers ran up his arm. There was something so intimidating about following Tango. There was an uncertainty that had hardly existed between him and the other hermits, one he’d only felt when he’d first joined the server. Did they want him to follow along? Or was his presence not needed? The math had been done, simply approved by Zedaph’s judgment.
He sunk back and leaned back on the counter that he stood at. Tango’s house, and Impulse’s, had hardly been different to his own. They’d help themselves to the fridge, come over when they needed to, become the priority in each other’s lives if the circumstances were enough. But that wasn’t Zedaph’s place anymore. He wasn’t Team Z.I.T. For several months, Zedaph didn’t exist. He almost felt uncomfortable leaning on the counter.
Zedaph put his hands over his face, trying to ease the spiral of thoughts he found himself in. it wasn’t that easy though.
“Zedaph, are you doing okay?”
Zedaph looked up to see Tango and Impulse standing in the doorway. Zedaph corrected his position. “Sure, just a little tired.”
The two looked at each other. “You’ve been “just a little tired” for a few weeks now,” Impulse hummed and stepped over to Zedaph. “You can tell us if something is wrong. We can help. Promise.”
“Of course,” Zedaph said, smiling, “but I have been thinking.”
“Thinking? Is it good thinking?” Tango questioned.
“Just thinking. Neutral thinking.” Zedaph fiddled with his sweater behind his back. “I’ve been thinking about leaving.”
Impulse and Tango stood silent for a moment.
“Leave?” Tango repeated.
Zedaph nodded and avoided his eyes. “I’ve talked to Xisuma about it, and I know that this is… sudden. I can explain, if you want.”
“Yes, please explain,” Impulse begged, not meaning to sound so desperate.
“I feel like an alien. I know you and everyone on the server. I know most everything about you two… but you know nothing about me. It’s uncomfortable to me to know so much about you when you hardly know my name, and I can only imagine how weird it is to you when I say something deeply personal.” He took a deep breath and looked up at both of them, unable to keep tears out of his eyes. “I can’t be here. It hurts.”
“But Grian remembered the base swap!” Tango cheered weakly, “and--and Python know-knows you!”
“That’s just--”
“Xisuma said he was breaking through the agent,” Impulse blurted out, “we could get our memories back any day now!”
“I can’t--”
“There’s a way to remember you! We know there is, Grian just did it! Maybe he even remembers more! Maybe we remember more than we think!” Tango laughed nervously.
“But--”
“It’s only a matter of time before we fix this, I know--”
“LISTEN!” Zedaph yelped. He took a few steps back. “It hurts. I can’t keep looking at you and… and not know you… This isn’t a normal situation, I’m not just a new hermit… I’m… broken…” Impulse and Tango didn’t talk when Zedaph paused and let him continue. “I love you like family… I’ve never in my life had people like this… right at my side… and there is a wall.” He wiped off his face but kept eye contact. “That wall is staying there. I’ve been back for two months and Grian has only just remembered a conversation we had three seasons ago… I know I’m being selfish, but I cannot keep living while knowing that I can’t be as close to the people who saved me from a hollow and lonely life before.” He took one more deep breath and made his mind up as he did. “We need to start over, but I cannot do that. I am leaving.”
“You’ve already talked to X?” Tango muttered long after Zedaph finished. Zedaph nodded and put his hands by his side.
“I was… I was going to take the coward's way out and just… let him tell everyone after I left.”
“Oh,” was all Impulse mumbled.
“I know you guys were hopeful… I was too, but I can’t stand it anymore.”
“What happens if we remember you after you’re gone?”
“Maybe you won’t remember me as a coward.”
Zedaph clenched his fists and turned on his heel. The tables were so suddenly turned, and Impulse and Tango didn’t know whether or not they were to follow him. Zedaph left the house and there was an uncomfortable silence left in his wake.
“Is he leaving now?” Tango muttered so quietly Impulse wasn’t sure he heard the question. Impulse looked at Tango and saw his eyes grow and light up and his mouth hung slightly ajar. Somehow quieter, he said: “I remember him.”
They ran outside only to see a portal close and only to be flooded with emotions they had long since forgotten. Impulse grabbed Tango and pushed his face into Tango’s chest, who just stood and stared at where Zedaph had once stood. His eyebrows furrowed and knitted together, and his fists clenched on Impulse’s loose shirt.
Fuck. Who was he even mad at?