Chapter Text
“It took me by surprise… The hatred in his eyes…
I’ve pushed this man as far as he can go…”
- “It Took Me By Surprise” - Maria Mena
With Acid In Your Eyes
Slumber Party
Year 1.17.21
🖤 💛 ❤️
It's probably 4 or 5 AM when Pearl finally slips up the stairs to join him in bed. Her socked feet scuff and creak on oak wood the whole way up. The bedroom door squeaks. Pearl's holding a lantern. The light burns low, but the metal rattles. Loudly, one ring from the top banging against the edge. Scott stirs, but doesn't lift his forearm from its sprawled position across his eyes. His wings twitch against the bed. He curls his fingers, nails scraping at his chest.
Okay. He kept his drinking light tonight, and he had like half a bucket of milk before bed… So why do all those soft noises still rattle his teeth? That seems rude. I swear, if I wake up with a splitting headache, I'm unsubscribing from having a physical form altogether… At least until the next morning.
Scott turns his head. The pillowcase scritches over the faint blue stubble sprouting near his ear. Seriously, you go a few days without shaving and look at you. Just look at you. He yawns, then opens his eyes about as wide as a feather. Through his bleary vision, he gets a better look at the lantern. Not much, though. Enough to confirm it's got a yellow flame instead of a blue one. Enough to see the way the light turns the undersides of Pearl's leathery wings a pretty russet red. They're usually brown like her hair. When the light hits just right, you can see the little moon phase patterns tattooed across them. He blinks again, this time more firmly, and opens his eyes pretty much all the way. At least halfway. That's close.
Another voice winds its way up the stairs. It sounds like Scar, whining to Cleo that if Bdubs gets to stay up, he wants to stay up too. Cleo makes some attempt to soothe him, pointing out that he's 10 and Bdubs is 5 and restless at a sleepover, then whisper-calls for Etho. She calls twice. Scott does not hear Etho's answer. But then, that's no big shock.
"Sorry." Pearl steps inside the bedroom, then turns back to seal the door shut. "I didn't mean to wake you, Scott."
"It's fine. I'd like to file a complaint about our next door guest room, though." He shifts his arm over his eyes again, blocking as much light as he can, and breaks into a yawn. "I'd suggest we all start calling them the Noisy Neighbors now… but I suspect that won't cut as deep as the nickname 'Nosy Neighbors' already does. That was your sister, right?" Then, "Sorry… Sorry, I guess when the talk got long, I should've gotten out of bed. I'm all worn out." His lips twist. Oh gods, I'm going the same 'semi-absent partner' route as Etho…
"You did nothing wrong," Pearl affirms, dissipating that thought before it can worm in too deeply. Scott traces his eyes over her again as she crosses the room with the lantern, heading to the master bathroom. "She's my sister, after all… and it's a conversation we apparently - apparently! - needed to have again. I'm sorry. Should I put the light out?"
He yawns, shaking his head, even though she can't see him. "Take as much light as you need, hon… Not gonna punish you for taking the time to deal with that. Sorry it happened, though. Was BigB there?"
He's answered by the growl of a rolling drawer. Then the swing of a cabinet, followed by Pearl dragging something out from underneath the counter. "No… I think he would've tried to be, but Cleo's patience was draining fast. She… She said I was fine to invite him since it's been about 15 years by now, but I think…" He can hear wool, then the flip of tiny chest lids. Then the scratch of a rotating lantern on the granite counter, metal squeaking. The light jumps, painting the bedroom wall in an echo of Pearl's shape. Scott watches her silhouette lean over the counter, dabbing wool first in their infinite source block in the sink and then around her eyes, scraping off colorful dye. She draws in a breath. "I think she feels embarrassed when her kids act up in front of one of her exes. Makes her real self-conscious. Good party though, eh?"
"I thought it was great; I had a great time. Though, I should've stepped in when I saw Joel get lumped with babysitting Bdubs."
"Yeah, I could've said something too… Just had my hands full with the games and all that. And you were on food and drinks half the night." She scrapes the wool again across her face, then dips it in the water bucket. "No worries. Can you do the dishes in the morning? I can clean the kitchen and get ready for breakfast."
"Or - what about this? - I can just do all the kitchen things if you can tidy up the main room after everyone leaves. I like talking to people and I think most of them will be up by the time I'm making food. I'm going to teach Scar how to play 'Egg Wars.'" Simple premise: just take two eggs and smack them into each other above a bowl, then dump the loser into the food you're making. Repeat until you've got enough food for everyone in the morning.
"Oh, he'll love that. Yeah, I can do the front room. And the bathroom. We'll probably need cleaning after all this."
"Mmhm. Glad we did it, though."
"Glad we did," Pearl agrees. There are more scrapes and chest lid creaks from the bathroom. "We got to celebrate Grian's birthday and New Year's, and no one's hopping the minecart rails home late. I honestly can't believe you convinced Etho to stay."
"I have my ways." Namely, pulling Etho to the side and pointing out that as much as Scott is one of Cleo's best friends these days, he can help Etho find a more private sleeping arrangement that's still inside the house. Etho reacted on the immediate defensive, backpedaling and insisting that no one's taking Cleo from him- "You just try to rip her from my hands!" And that's about all it took. Scott put a movie on the wall-comm before excusing himself upstairs to catch a few Zs before breakfast. Last Scott saw, Etho and Cleo were sitting on the couch with his head on her shoulder, Scar and Bdubs each curled in one parent's lap with their bushy tails wrapped around them.
"It was nice to see BigB again…"
"Not a great time with your sister, though?" Pearl's twin isn't exactly known for keeping out of everybody's business. Scott didn't see her using it tonight, but she keeps a spyglass dangling from her hip and everything, cheery smile and hands clasped wherever she looks.
"How'd you guess?" Pearl mutters back. "Nosiest neighbor alive, after all…" She mutters a few more things then, drizzling every word with a sarcastic pop, and falls silent while using the bathroom and washing her hands. Scott's nearly drifted off when he hears her rustling from her clothes. He reaches over and flips down her side of the blankets.
After another minute, Pearl appears in the doorway with the lantern banging at her knee. No longer dressed… make-up cleared away. Hair still unwashed after a whole day of muttering that she'd like the opportunity to slip off and fix it, but he doesn't point that out. It drapes over one shoulder. The undersides of her bat wings, hanging open in exhaustion where they sit at the base of her torso, have gone ember-red again. Scott can see the white full moon practically glowing even from here. Her eyes glow too: pinpricks of golden sunlight in the dark. She sets one hand to her hip, looking Scott up and down
"I swear, the king can't call them back to the castle soon enough."
Pearl seems ruffled. It's really late, but maybe this shouldn't wait until after they sleep. Scott only needs enough strength to push through cooking breakfast for about 18 people, then maybe one or two games. After people filter from the house, he and Pearl can collapse into bed again, even if it's the middle of the day. Neither of them have work and part of the sleepover agreement was that their guests would help harvest the morning wheat and berries for bread, so they shouldn't have any urgent chores to do. Tilly might need a walk and Scott moved the axolotl tank up here so no one overfed them, but after that?
After that, we snuggle to our heart's content.
"What did she say?" he asks, propping himself up on one elbow.
"You really wanna know?"
"Ooh, it's hot tea… Spill, gurl." Maisy may be Pearl's twin, but the things they nitpick over couldn't be any more opposite. Juicy sibling gossip is always a good time. Scott cups his chin in both hands to emphasize this, blinking lazily across the room. He even gives his wings a flutter.
"She said you're queerbaiting the whole neighborhood and she doesn't think you're a good influence on Cleo's kids."
"I'm queerbaiting my own houseparty!? For my own long-time friends? One of whom is a guy I've slept with?"
"Only one?" Pearl asks, edging it in teasing, and Scott rolls his eyes. For two years, he's helped Jimmy with his garden throughout spring and summer. They talk. They laugh. Maybe flirt a bit, or at least that's Scott's intention. Jimmy, oblivious, hasn't been picking up his cues. Either that or he isn't interested, and Scott hasn't decided what his next move will be. He and Jimmy haven't even had a proper date yet. Depends whether going out to buy fertilizer together counts or not. It's not traditionally romantic. Then, "Oh, she recorded us without our consent, by the way. So she's saying she could pass it around to some of our other neighbors. She did not clarify what this may achieve."
"So… I'm a poor representation of queerness for Cleo's kids - representation I don't think I've ever purposely made myself out to be, and Cleo themself being very queer, by the way - because I kissed my soulmate - who is also my wife - to celebrate the tick of midnight on New Year's Eve? During a party where all-? … Where all of our friends were kissing their partners, too. So, like…" He sits up. "Does she think you and I deserve to be left out of the fun at our own party just because we're not romantic enough for her?"
"Ayep."
Her wings flutter when she says it, hand with the lantern still braced against her hip. Scott's wings twitch too, clinking together with a crystal-like chime. "With all due respect, it does take two to tango. Did she say anything about you queerbaiting the party because you kissed me back?"
"Nope."
"Even though you're aro."
"Yep. And that's exactly what I told her, too." Pearl rolls her eyes. Finally, she sets the lantern on Scott's nightstand and walks around to her side of the bed. "She got all upset… Going on and on about how she and BigB 'actually value the platonic part of queerplatonic' and all that. I just asked her what gave her the right to draw the lines through a relationship that's not her own and she got all huffy with me."
"Damn, okay. I know who's not getting any more birthday cards. I'm fine with it, actually. Paper's too valuable to waste on her anyway." Then he has another thought. He watches Pearl fuss with her pillow, then start crawling into bed. "Wait… Was she okay with Joel kissing Lizzie instead of Etho? Even though that breaks a soulmate bond? … Considering how rare women are nowadays, I wouldn't be surprised if she whines about 'a female fetish.'"
"I mean, she didn't say anything about it." Pearl flips up the blankets, tugging to her shoulders. She nestles down in the pillow, mostly flumping, and exhales hard. Her wings and knees shift beneath the blankets as she fidgets around. "BigB's not her soulmate either… but I guess they're both out here on 'special assignment' from the castle and maybe them keeping platonic is a lot more political…? I mean, I can't imagine things would go too well if she's caught kissing the soulmate of the king."
Scott gives his head a shake. "Pearl, I don't get people. Do our nosy neighbors not understand the point of queerplatonic relationships is just… to reject the norm? Queer things up?"
"We're straight-passing, Scott. It comes with the territory."
"She's gonna freak when she finds out I think you look amazing in that one scarlet cloak with all the gold trim," Scott mutters back, and rolls over to snuff the lantern out. Downstairs, Bdubs' voice carries up with a whine for a late-night drink. Scar stirs immediately after, whimpering for an extra blanket. He's cold. Scott can hear Cleo mutter, then untangle themself from Scar or Etho or maybe both. Shuffling footsteps creak across the floor.
They're a good mom, he thinks to himself, and wonders with a fleeting frown again if he and Etho have more in common than he'd like to admit. Say… leaving their wives to deal with uncomfortable situations just so they can catch a little sleep. He turns over, lying back again, and brushes his thumb across Pearl's cheek.
"Pearl?"
Her eyelids flutter. The yellow glow seeps out again, like butter dripping down a slice of toast. "Mm?"
"Are you okay?" Tentative fingers slip into her air. Searching eyes pick apart her sleepy face. "Do you want to talk about your sister or… anything else? I don't mean to make you feel like… like you don't have time to talk to me before we jump back into being busy, running around doing party things tomorrow."
Pearl is quiet for several seconds. Then she shifts. Her knee bumps his beneath the bed. Her wing twitches across his leg before she tucks it back. "She… did say something else that kind of dug in deep."
"Yeah?"
"Can I…" Her eyes stay shut, eyelids tensing. She wriggles her shoulders again. Scott stalls his hand. "Can I bring it up - one of those Big Things we've already talked about a million times - just so I can hear the reassurance again? Just to confirm that nothing's changed."
"Of course. This is a safe space." He leans in, pressing his lips against Pearl's temple. He coasts his fingers again across her hair, this time starting at her scalp and tracing from the roots. "If your sister's throwing kindling at me, I'm more than happy to burn."
"Can you tell me what the plan is if you start dating Jimmy…?"
"Mmhm. I can date Jimmy if I want to… and you can date anyone that you want to. If you ever want to. We can invite them over. Have them for parties and game nights and dinner downstairs. But this bedroom is for you and me. Not for me and Jimmy. Not for you and anybody else. This room… This is our room. It's safe here, okay? … It's safe. And what we do up here is nobody's business but ours."
Quiet flickers between them. Then Pearl nods, scrunching fingers and toes. "And what's the plan for when we go Red?"
Scott sighs into her hair. "Well, we don't really know how the Red curse is going to take us. Neither of us has dropped that low in color before. But I think… we'll be okay together."
"You think so?"
"Yeah. And we'll still try to live together. I like to think we'll do our best to stay a team when we're Red, even when the curse is pumping in our veins."
Pearl scrunches up beneath the blankets. Her fingers slide sideways, wrapping at his wrist. "Even if you're dating Jimmy then?"
Ah. That's a new question. That makes sense now, why she's asking. Scott scoots closer, pillows bunching, and lies very close to Pearl. Close enough that their foreheads tap. She keeps one hand on his arm, the other bunched against her chest. He lowers his voice. Not out of fear that downstairs, Cleo will overhear him… but because topics like these are scary, and gentleness is the best way to handle them. He says, "For as long as I have possession of my own clear thoughts, I don't intend to be 'with Jimmy' in any way that excludes you from my life. You're my soulmate, Pearl… I love sharing this cottage with you. I think we work really well together. Though, I can't promise things will be easy when we're Red."
Pearl sniffs softly in the dark. "I just don't know how much longer this is gonna last, Scott… We're already down to Yellow life."
"Yeah, but we have each other. Living together reduces a lot of that mystery of what's unknown." Some soulmates don't get to have that. Some do. Etho and Joel know they're soulmates now. Lizzie and Mumbo are both here tonight. Grian's here with his… though Scott forgets that man's name. Scott tries to keep his breathing slow and even, feeling out the way the air in his lungs and the beating of his hearts echoes from Pearl's body into his and back again. They're soulmates. They share pain… He can feel that cold stone weighing on her, even if she's playing like she's so brave right now. "We just need to be careful, the both of us."
"Everybody's nice," Pearl murmurs in the dark. "This is what it's like when we're all still on Green and Yellow lives…"
"… and no one here's a boogeyman, yeah." Or at least that's the hope. Cleo hasn't met their soulmate yet. Neither has Gem. Skizz is… an exception. His soulmate got snuffed out before they were old enough to properly sync up. At age 14, Skizz had an accident. He dropped from Green life to Yellow… and his soulmate, who'd already been Red from an apparently wild youth, didn't exactly make it.
So Skizz, at least, can never feel boogeyman tingles from a distant Red soulmate arching up his spine. The Red King, despite the frightening title, draws his name from Crimson City rather than the color of life he's on. He sits securely on Green, so BigB is safe tonight. Scott, however, would not dare to point this out in front of Cleo, who took a stab directly in the back 14 or 15 years ago- back when King Ren was still a prince and he really was as red as his name suggests. Scott didn't know Cleo back then, but he's heard the secondhand urges snapped like lightning across BigB's mind. By the time she respawned, he'd already ditched her in a panic. Scar and Bdubs are prepubescent, so neither has a soulmate yet. They're in the clear. And Cleo…
Well, no one really knows what's up with Cleo's soulmate. Not even Cleo herself.
Pearl shifts like a ghost in the dark. Barely brushing against him now. Barely breathing. "Do you think we'll kill our neighbors when we're Red, Scott…? Or do you think we'll leave the cottage and run away together? Leave the sheep… the farm…"
"-Tilly and the axolotls…? No way." Again, Scott gives his soulmate a careful kiss. This time, it brushes across her cheek. Pearl is quiet, soaking in the touch and scent and warmth of him, until he draws away, lying back against his pillow. "I think we'll be fine, on Red. I can't think of a lot of people I'd even want to hurt, let alone kill. We've lived a good while, at least. We've spent our whole lives being honorable. I'm not about to betray our neighbors now."
"Red together, then? Until the end?"
There's guarded caution in those words. "I will kill for us," it says, even though her probing eyes are tucked behind her lashes. "I grew up around Reds. I used to strike back when they attacked."
"So you did," he might reply, if they were holding eye contact.
"Mmhm. In doing so, in dishing out those perma-deaths, I upped us several shades of green before we got where we are now… Years and years together, in our 30s now and down to Yellow."
"Yes."
"We're Yellow together, because you've asked me not to seek out any more Reds. You've requested we perma-kill only in self-defense. And for years, I've done exactly that."
"I know."
"And you're my soulmate, and I love you… and I will be patient and stay my blade at your request. It's your life I'd be messing with too, after all. But please, Scott… Let me kill for us when we go Red. I will kill for us. I will kill anytime you ask me to."
He knows she will. He's been splattered with purple soul goop once, early on in their soulmate-ship, when she perma-killed a howling man with scarlet in his eyes and a red stripe of dye curling through his ragged hair. Scott had been cooking at home. Caught off guard, he'd been backed in a corner by the furnace and the sink, crossing his arms above his head as the axe came swinging down. Only it never landed, because Pearl was faster. Pearl has always been faster and killed him with a crashing blade. Purple soul goop spattered the counters, the backsplash serving its purpose to shield the wall, and the man slumped to the floor. He never got up again. Scott sat there shaking for a long, long time.
Before they moved in together, Pearl had talked with him about the customs of the Eastlands. She'd told him they don't hold back. They protect their own with blades instead of shields. The best defense, sometimes, is a good offense. A reputation. And she told him these things early on. And maybe he'd never believed her until she killed that man who'd engaged in a fight with only him, not with her.
"Where I come from, we say you're not supposed to strike a Red who hasn't hit you first."
"That's stupid, Scott. He was after my soulmate. That WAS self-defense."
"It's not really their fault, though. The curse- They're still people-"
"And I agree they're still people! They still need to be held accountable."
They'd both had eyes a dark and pretty pine needle green back then. You could barely even tell when the color ticked darker. But the tests came back positive when they got themselves checked by the local wizard. "Yep. That was a perma-kill; you're both on 5 lives, now…"
… but that was a long time ago. Three deaths later, they're down to their Yellow life. Pearl has been itching all the while, keening to put them up to Green again. He knows she wants to. She may have the wings of a bat, but she lurks like a wolf. It's the Eastlander in her. She wants to play it safe. Keep on Green, because skirting life on Yellow's a deadly dance to her.
It's the only thing they ever fight about.
He traces her question through his mind again. Red together? Until the end?
"We stay honorable," he murmurs again, then yawns. "We don't… hurt our neighbors. We'll do what we have to. We'll try to pick off strangers. Not familiar faces. We've caused enough perma-deaths, Pearl… More than most people. If we do it again, I think it should only be when opportunity arises. Like if someone else has struck and we are only there to swoop in and finish the kill. At least, that's how I intend to live on Red. I guess we don't really know what our Red selves are wont to do…"
"Your loyalty is admirable."
"I do what I can. Ah… It's late, Pearl. Let's go to sleep. We've a lot to do in the morning for our guests…"