Awaken (Hermitcraft Fanfiction)

XXIII. Bargaining

TW: thoughts of self-harm and suicide, a bloody nightmare (will be summarized at the end)

Pearl stared at the glaive on the table in front of her. The teal patterns were dark, nearly matching the ebony wood that made up the rest of the shaft. The obsidian blade reflected light dully, although she had just polished it. She was tempted to slice her skin with it as she had with her throwing star, but she didn't want to dirty it with her blood. Zeroc would never have wanted that.

The tingling pressure on her right shoulder grew and she turned toward it. Impulse appeared at her side, having been the one incessantly tapping her shoulder. She jumped back with a yell, the nerve damage at the site impairing her ability to perceive touch.

"Sorry!" He winced, drawing back from the furious gray sparks that bounced off her skin. She grits her teeth, forcibly calming her anger until it was balled up inside her. He put his hand more gently on her shoulder – Pearl felt the peculiar tingling from the pressure again – and took a deep breath, inviting her to breathe with him.

"So," he started, "what's going on?"

She dug her nails into the wooden surface, staring at the offensive emerald blade that lay adjacent to the glaive. "History," she snapped. "Everything in the past that I can't change. All the things that prevent me from being happy."

"What exactly about history?" he asked, turning her to face him. Her face was stained with tears, red and puffy from tears of fury that hadn't ceased since she stormed from Xisuma's three hours earlier. She had run out of tears to shed, replaced by a shadow of herself.

"My father. Stupid Watchers. Stupid wars. Stupid history."

"I don-"

"Impulse, is there a chance that he's still alive?" He knew who she was talking about and remained silent, trying to appear pensive. Luckily, her state of mind prevented her from detecting his facade.

"Maybe if I..." She gestured hopelessly into the air. "If I... I dunno. Everything I've tried so far has failed. Summoning, searching, magic presences, nothing. I can't find any trace of him except for spawn, and I can't just believe that he's gone. He can't be. He can't just leave me like this."

"Well, like Xisuma said-"

"Don't talk about him!"

"Like he said," Impulse insisted, plowing forward, "maybe doing what you're doing will help you come to terms with it, you know? Like, it'll help you listen to reality."

"I don't want to listen to reality!" she exclaimed. "It hurts way too much. I just can't, okay?"

"I understand. Trust me, I do," Impulse responded soothingly. "I lost my older brother when I was really young. He was at the wrong place at the wrong time. It took me years to recover." He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "Still am. Recovering, I mean."

"I'm sorry."

"No, it's alright. I've accepted it. Point is, what you're going through is part of life. It's a process. It takes time. It hurts like the Nether, but you gotta brave it."

"What if he's still out there? If I promise to never miss another training session or misplace a block, will he come back? Notch, I'd do anything just to see him again."

Impulse was silent, trying to string together his words into sympathetic sentences. He knew exactly what she was going through. He'd tried fruitlessly to bargain with Mojang for his brother's life, trying to restore him. He understood the gaping hole she felt.

Pearl moved to the window, gazing at the fading daylight. Her wings unfolded and wrapped around her as she stared at the rising moon.

"Mojang, I just want to see him again." Her eyes searched the sky pleadingly for an answer. "I'll sacrifice anything. I'll perform any ritual. I'll go back to isolation. I'll lose an arm and a leg. Just to see him again. Heck, I'll give my life away if I could just be with him."