Chapter Text
The sky red was red. Slime didn’t know why he thought getting on the boat would change that and yet, he kept staring at it, willing it to change back to normal. Because that would mean he’s finally getting out of this hell. It would mean he could go back to Flippa and-
The boat swayed and he grabbed onto the railing, gripping it so tightly his knuckles turned white. He forces himself to not turn towards the island.
Mariana wasn’t on the boat yet. Slime started picking on his lips out of habit, he should calm down. Because Mariana promised, he promised they would start again. He promised they would leave this island, and he promised they would do it together. And yet, Slime closed his eyes, he wasn’t here. There was no sight of him, and he was quickly running out of time. But surely, he wouldn’t stay here, surely, he would show up. He promised.
Despite trying to convince himself of this, there was still doubt in his mind. It all sounded too good to be true, to get his daughter and his wife back, together.
After their reunion he spent hours convincing himself it wasn’t some sort of hallucination, but it couldn’t have been. He could still feel the emotions and the ghost of his wife’s touch on his body lingering for hours afterwards. His heart felt full, and his soul was filled with hope for the first time in a long time. Their meetings only helped to feed into it. The way they would talk so softly in case anyone was nearby, the way their touch only served to bring them comfort and nothing more, the way Mariana would look at him, his eyes shimmering and never leaving him.
Sometimes, during their meetings, Slime felt like crying. It was all so overwhelming, to be treated so lovingly by him. Because he fully convinced himself his wife didn’t love him. That she hated him, wanted nothing to do with him. Each touch meant, each look meant so much to him, the intensity of it stealing his breath.
When he voiced these thoughts to Mariana, she looked near close to tears too. That night Slime fell asleep on his wife’s chest, her fingers in his hair, listening to her sweet whispers. Even though they were in Spanish, even though he could barely understand, it made him believe a bit that maybe, there could be fixing their relationship.
But now, standing on the boat, ready to leave this miserable place, he wasn’t so sure anymore. His chest hurt, it was so painful, like someone ripped his heart right out of it. He knew he shouldn’t let himself believe, deep down he knew this couldn’t possibly work out. What a foolish thing to do, be hopeful.
The wind ruffled his hair and the boat swayed again. Tears started forming in his eyes and he squeezed them shut. Letting out a shaky sigh he sank to the ground. The wood was rough against his limbs when he laid down, pillowing his head on his hands. The boat started moving, it was leaving, and Mariana wasn’t here. He felt sick.
“I’m coming home, Flippa,” he whispered to himself.
He was finally leaving, finally coming home. And yet, he felt as if a part of him was missing.
Stepping foot on his island was bittersweet. The sky was blue with the sun shining harshly warming his skin. He should be happy, he gets to see his daughter again, finally, and yet, he couldn’t get rid of this feeling. The hollowness in his heart. And it made him angry.
He survived all this time without Mariana, why did it feel so painful now? Was it because he put his trust into him, only for him to let him down? Was it because for the first time in forever he could just enjoy someone’s presence? Was because he for once felt happy? No. He was happy here, with Flippa, away from everyone. He was. Why did it feel like he was trying to convince himself?
Pushing the door open to his house, he immediately noticed how the darkness swallowed the whole place, it felt abandoned. Did Flippa spent all this time hiding?
“Flippa?” he called out to her, stepping further in. There was no light coming from the basement either and it was so, so cold. The air felt suffocating, something was wrong.
The ladder creaked when he slid down it. “Flippa, are you here?”
He couldn’t hear anything; the silence was deafening as he walked further into the room. Lighting a torch, he looked around and what came into sight made his blood run cold. His chests were open, the bed was overturned and some of the flooring was missing. Somebody went through his stuff. Somebody had been here.
His breath quickened, panic already settling in. The room suddenly felt claustrophobic. If somebody had been here, if they saw Flippa-
He raced up the ladder and out of the house. She must be around here somewhere, she wouldn’t let anyone take her, she couldn’t. His little girl was strong.
Slime couldn’t think. The only thing on his mind was his daughter, she had to be here, somewhere. He ran into the cave, screaming her name. She couldn’t be gone; he just got her back.
His throat felt raw, tears were streaming down his face and his heart was racing. What is he going to do? She was all he had. His whole body was shaking from the sheer panic.
The cave was cold, the light from the berries he before found magical now seemed terrifying. He couldn’t see properly, tears obscuring his vision, but he had to keep going.
He checked every corner, every, crevice, every possible place she could be hiding, but there was no trace of her. It was like she was never here.
Eventually his body felt exhausted, he sank to the ground, torch discarded, and hugged his knees close to his chest. He couldn’t find her, she wasn’t here. His daughter wasn’t here.
It all suddenly came crashing down at once, he felt alone. Truly alone. His chest felt tight, and his head spun. His wife and daughter were gone, his family all had other people to care about. And here he was, a broken shell of a person, laying on the damp floor of a cave, sobbing, rocking back and forth to give himself some sense of comfort.
He wished his daughter was here, he wished his wife was here, he wished his friends were here. But when he looked up, all he could see was the dark ceiling of a cave. And he never felt lonelier.
When Slime woke up, his head was pounding, his throat was dry, and the entirety of his body ached. He could still feel the hard ground beneath him and-
“Slime?”
There were fingers running through his hair, gently untangling the knots he didn’t bother to brush out during purgatory. Out of instinct, he jolted away from the touch, searching around for any kind of weapon only to realize he didn’t take any with him down here. He didn’t expect to have to fight.
But then he looked up and his eyes met the eyes of his wife.
His eyes were shimmering, his mouth was pulled down in a frown and his hand was still in the air, as if reaching for him. It was like all the air was punched out of his lungs, Mariana was here, sitting on the ground before him, beautiful as ever, even with concern and what was almost fear visible on her face.
But he wasn’t supposed to be here, he didn’t come on the boat, he left Slime. He left him alone.
Slime wanted to say something, anything. Because surely, this wasn’t real, he must be hallucinating, this cave did have some weird gases in it.
Mariana tilted his head, it looked as if he was speaking, but Slime couldn’t hear a single thing he said. There were thousands of thoughts running through his mind, and he couldn’t focus on a single one.
“Am I dreaming?” Slime whispered.
Mariana looked startled, but then a gentle expression overcame his face, and he scooted closer to Slime. He reached a hand up and carefully cupped Slime’s cheek, running a thumb under his eye. His hand was so warm, it was such a stark contrast to the coldness of the cave, Slime couldn’t help but lean into it, holding onto his wife’s wrist.
His wife’s smile widened, and she slowly shook his head. “I am here, mi amor.”
But Slime didn’t feel happy, he didn’t feel relief. What he felt was resentment, and he was angry. Angry at the universe for making him go through this, angry at the Angel for not listening to his prayers, angry at Mariana for seemingly being okay with this. And he was angry at himself, that he let her in again.
“Slime?”
His vision was blurry. He was crying again, and he hated himself for it. Because they did not deserve his tears.
“Slime, it hurts!” he heard Mariana yell.
Suddenly, he snapped out of his trance, and he noticed the death grip he had on Mariana’s wrist. He let got immediately, his whole body shaking, and his heart was racing. He wanted this to stop, he needed this to stop.
He lifted his head and met Mariana’s gaze. And suddenly, all that anger disappeared. Because Mariana was crying, his wife was crying. His hands were covering his mouth, and he was staring at Slime with fear. He shouldn’t look at him like that. For all their fights, all the hurtful words they shouted at each other, they never were afraid of the other. This was so wrong.
Slime looked down in horror at his hand, it was shaking. He hurt her. He hurt Mariana. His stomach twisted, he felt sick.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. It was barely audible, but he could see that Mariana heard him. She was shaking her head rapidly, still crying.
Everything was becoming fuzzy; he couldn’t focus on anything else. Just the fact that he hurt someone, again. Especially her, especially Mariana. He didn’t mean to. They fought a lot, yes, but he never hurt her physically. He didn’t mean to do it.
What would she think of him now? After they promised each other to try again. He just seemed to hurt everything he touched. But it didn’t matter did it. Because Mariana didn’t care about him. It was clear from the way he didn’t show up to the boat, leaving Slime to grieve him all over again.
There was a hand on his cheek again, wiping away his tears. He didn’t even realize he was crying.
Slowly, his vision came into focus, but his breaths were still erratic. His whole ribcage shook with the force of it, and it wasn’t slowing down.
“Mi amor, breathe.”
Mariana was in front of him, tear streaks visible on his face, but he looked calmer, almost determined. His cheeks were red, and his hair was tousled, and even in this situation, barely being able to breathe, Slime couldn’t help but think how pretty he looked.
He felt Mariana taking his hand a pressing it to his chest, taking a deep breath.
“Follow me,” she instructed, and Slime did.
Each breath felt painful, as if something was pressing down on his chest but eventually, his breathing slowed down, and he felt all of his senses coming back to him. Despite this, he kept his hand on Mariana’s chest, and made no move to remove the hand on his cheek. He wanted to feel angry, he wanted to shout and argue, but all of his fight left him, staring at his wife, who looked so miserable, sorrow not leaving her eyes this whole time.
“I thought you left,” Slime confessed, his voice was quiet. He felt so tired.
Mariana looked to the side, frowning. “I-ah, I tried… to help the eggs. And the boat- there was no time. Lo siento, I came with mis alas, my wings. But it hurts, you know? Son nuevos.”
She took the hand Slime had placed on her chest and intertwined their fingers.
“I don’t want to leave, you know? Tu es mi esposo.” He said it so gently, Slime’s eyes filled with tears again and he stared at Mariana, noticing his did too.
“Do you really mean that?” he was almost embarrassed to hear his voice crack, but Mariana was looking at him with such care, that it didn’t matter.
“Por supuesto.”
And for the first time in a long while, the dread in Slime’s chest was replaced by something else. It made his heart beat loudly, it made his skin feel tingly and there was warmth pooling in his gut. It was strange, he never felt it this intense before. It was almost scary, at first. But then Mariana smiled gently at him and tucked a piece of his hair behind his ear, and all of his worry disappeared. She was here, and she didn’t mean to leave him, and she came back to him. And hopefully, she wasn’t leaving again.
He fell forward, wrapping his arms around Mariana’s torso and leaning his head on his shoulder. There was this sudden urge to voice this feeling, to let go, and let himself have this, fully.
But when he tried to speak, his voice got stuck in his throat. He felt arms wrap around his back and Mariana pressed a kiss to his head. Not yet, he should just let himself enjoy this.
Because in this moment, he didn’t feel alone.