While the rain the night before left a chilled wind in the air, for the most part, it was starting to warm up on the outside. The fur on the back of Ren's neck soaked up the rays of heat amidst the minor cold, giving him a quick shiver as he stepped outside with BigB to meet Grian and Scar.
The days passing by seemed longer and longer to Ren, and not in the good way either. All he could ever think about was his soulbound, how badly he wanted to just go back to the way things were with his silent crush and hope. Hope that one day he would be brave enough to confess his feelings and that they would be reciprocated.
Simply by existing, Grian managed to change all of that. The way he and BigB talked and laughed with genuine interest to each other, how closely together they would walk until one of them hit the other's hand with a sway of their arm and stammered an apology before only letting the gap between them get an inch or two longer and closing it off in less than seconds as if nothing ever happened. Ren could see BigB's smile absolutely beaming as Grian would go off the rails of their conversation and start over explaining something, usually something useless like learning how to fly. BigB doesn't even have wings, Ren would think to himself, why is he so interested? Does he just like hearing Grian talk? He never looks at me like that when I talk to him.
What was worse, Grian gave the same look back to BigB. B didn't talk nearly as much, he was never that type of guy, but of course Grian would have to go silent at some point during their two-way conversation, and every single time, it was the same look of joy directed at his best friend. Ren couldn't stand that look. It was why he and Scar were now opting to stay at BigB and Ren's place while the other two walked. It was Scar's idea, and he helped back Ren up on this change of pace by convincing Grian he'd rather not deal with the hassle of getting his wheelchair outside, and frankly, that was only partially a lie.
Best friends, Ren thought, his gaze unconsciously growing mean and judgmental at the two going down the street, best friends my ass. What does Grian have that I don't? You haven't been seeing him for the past few years. You haven't been living with him for the past few years. He hasn't been head over heels for you for the past few years. All of a sudden he meets you again out of pure coincidence and all you can ever talk about is him?!
"Helloooo, earth to Ren," Scar called, waving a hand in front of the dog-hybrid's face whilst his other hand leaned on his cane. Ren shook his head, clearing his mind.
"Oh, sorry my dude," he said.
"It's fine," Scar said, waving his hand dismissively. "So, anything new about you and B?"
He asked the last question with intrigue, and therefore was sorely disappointed when Ren hesitated to answer.
"Oh come on!" Scar groaned in anguish, his inner drama flaring. "It's been like a week!"
"He's not going to accept me, okay?!" Ren cried, his ears folding back as Scar moved a foot behind his other at the sudden outburst. "Just look at him! Look at him for a second and tell me he's not in love with Grian! If you two weren't soulbound, I would go nuts on that-!"
"Woah woah, take a breath there," Scar said, "nobody needs to be going nuts on anyone, we're playing matchmaker, not mafia."
Ren let out a sigh, though his fur refused to sit back down. Scar was right, there was no need for him to be angry at all, yet it felt like he'd never been more infuriated in his life.
"What am I supposed to do?" He asked. "I can't just force B to love me."
"But we can nudge him a little in the right direction," Scar said. "Tell you what, if, completely hypothetically, Grian already had a boyfriend, then B wouldn't be able to take him."
"Are you saying you're going to try dating Grian so B would have to date me?" Ren asked. "Isn't that kinda manipulative?"
"Nooo, it's nudging him a little in the right direction!" Scar insisted. "It's just like advertising. Can't have this one thing? Then have this other thing instead!"
"Y'know dude, it's a little freaky how easily you're comparing this to marketing." Ren said.
"It's the only analogy I know," Scar admitted.
Ren thought it over for a moment, then conceded. "Alright, we can talk about this more inside. Do you like pound cake?"
"Never had any, why?" Scar asked.
"B made some this morning if you want a slice," Ren offered, waiting for Scar to step inside with him before he closed the front door.
—
Scott let out a yawn as he descended the steps in the house, still in a white t-shirt and blue pajama pants as he heard chattering coming from downstairs. He already knew it was from Pearl and Martyn, the latter had been visiting their house every day for the past few days.
On the surface, it didn't seem out of the ordinary. After all, they were best friends, but up until the whole fountain ordeal, they usually hung out at any place where Scott and Cleo weren't, and now all of a sudden they were comfortable being within constant audible range?
Scott didn't necessarily find it odd, just interesting.... and frankly, annoying.
"Hey Scott!" Pearl called. "How was the little nap?"
Scott groaned. He told Pearl that he was taking a nap at 3 pm yesterday, and now he was waking up at 11. 11 am. The next morning.
"Shut. Up." He growled.
"Told ya he wasn't in a coma," Martyn joked, jabbing his elbow into Pearl's shoulder with the intent to send the pain to Scott. In return, driven by Pearl's subsequent chuckling and his own moodiness, Scott grabbed one of the fake plastic candles he had on a shelf as decoration and fast-balled it directly to the side of Martyn's head. If the blonde would've turned around any more, it would've went straight for his eye.
"OW!" He cried, holding the side of his face as Pearl suppressed another snicker. Scott didn't bother to stay and watch the rest of his reaction, especially when he could hear it clear as day from the kitchen while he got started on making coffee.
To be completely honest, in quite a few ways, Scott hated Martyn more than he did Pearl. Sure, Pearl was usually the one to throw herself into painful situations, but at the end of the day, they both dealt with that. Martyn, on the other hand, willingly and knowingly aided Pearl in this endeavor to phantom-hurt Scott, with no outside repercussion aside from being Cleo's soulbound.
Even worse, Scott knew Martyn's good side. They met each other in the waiting room at a doctor's office, the same day they found out who their soulbounds were. The blonde was nice and genuine, and Scott thought they would get along at first. The only reason all of it came crashing down was because of the shared anger between the 4 of them. Scott was against Pearl, and that meant he was against Martyn too, end of story.
Maybe that was why he thought about it so often. The sheer disappointment in seeing what could've been and never seeing that side of a person again. Maybe it was just the wrong place at the wrong time. Scott had broken up with Jimmy only a month before, and all he had in the way of friends after that was Cleo, so it was safe to say he was emotionally wrecked. For someone to be kind when hardly anyone was, and then have it be ripped away again to no fault of his own, certainly that couldn't have been good for him.
Scott ran a hand through his teal-colored hair to fix it, if only a little, before noticing his coffee was done and pouring the near black liquid into a mug. As he sipped, he mischievously smiled to himself, pressing two fingers at the bottom of the scalding pot. Hearing the subsequent screech of "SCOTT!" from Pearl in the living room, and frankly not wanting to give himself hard burns, he whipped his hand back around his cup and went about his business.
—
Tango absolutely hated lying to Jimmy, but explaining that he merely slipped and fell wrong on his head during the rainstorm was a hell of a lot easier than trying to explain that they were the target of immortal gods. How would you even go about that? Oh yeah, by the way, the place we've decided to volunteer to live in for what could possibly be the next few months or so of our lives is highly dangerous and my best friend is one of the things making it that way. Did I mention he died when we were in high school? I didn't know about that either.
In the meantime, despite the lack of an actual extra bedroom, Tango opted to start staying with Impulse and Bdubs, crashing on the mildly comfortable couch they had downstairs. It wasn't the best by any means, but even the most perfect of bedroom setups couldn't convince him to live at the ranch anymore. He tried, the day after it happened, but being near "Zedaph" alone broke his heart and hurt his chest, and he was afraid his heart and chest would be extra broken if that thing so much as got tired of him. They didn't say a word to each other, but if looks could kill, Tango would've been dead the moment he walked through the door. Before the night even started that day, he grabbed what little belonged to him and his soulbound (including Norman, don't worry) and, albeit begrudgingly, begged his best friend for a spot in their living room. He really didn't have to beg: Impulse was on the verge of offering it to Tango anyway as both he and Bdubs now knew the full scope of the situation, but Tango was desperate and too emotionally tired to care if his dignity fell down a sewer drain.
At the very least, he was grateful that they were all talking now. Ironically, discussing their plans for the near future kept his fears about it from surfacing too much. As far as they knew, they were the only ones who recovered their memories, and it became the agreement between the 3 of them that they needed to tell everyone as soon as possible. If not to get them to go to the fountain, then at the very least to convince them that they're telling the truth. Of course the truth had to sound like the most unbelievable and downright insane conspiracy on the face of the planet. Just their luck.
It sounded easy at first: let them know about what was really going on and if they didn't believe it, they could always ask the fountain. But could they really ask anyone to do that? The memories were necessary, sure, but they were devastating. The 3 were lucky they could barely handle their own, what if someone else went through something even worse, something so horrible that it would've been better for it to be kept a secret. Could they ask anyone to take that risk, both in the sense of convincing them to do it in the first place and well... dealing with the consequences if they chose to accept?
It was one of those questions that didn't have much in the way of a definitive answer. Impulse avoided talking about his ghost sight for now, opting to leave it for when it was more necessary and focusing on the Watchers and their deal first, so he didn't bring up his prophetic conversation with Sun yet. But one thing kept racing in his mind: the idea that they could just leave. Sun promised him that they would all make it out alive if they chose to leave now, and while he couldn't outright tell anyone about the futures yet, it would be an easy argument to make. We're all in mortal danger if we stay, so let's get the fuck out ASAP.
Speaking of the Watchers, they had to find out Grian's deal. He was part of the project, he was soulbound, Bdubs could even confirm. He witnessed Jellie get a little too mad at Scar one time and Grian's arm flinched before the brunette cat owner even reacted to the scratching and biting. But he was also an actual Watcher, through and through. Granted, none of them have seen Grian use any of the magic, but he had the wings and annoyingly spontaneous eyes. Besides, there hadn't been any reason for him to use it, so it wasn't unreasonable to think he was capable and just holding out on them. On top of that, he wasn't afraid to admit it. He shared quite a few stories of his work at their campfire, happily answered any queries the others would have, even showed them how clay helped to hide the eyes he would get.
Impulse, knowing what he knew now, was inclined to think Grian was a Listener instead. But again, he'd rather not bring up the ghost vision, and Grian specifically said he was a Watcher. If the two sides were only separated by their sets of ideas, why was he labeling himself as a Watcher?
Conflict. As far as anyone and everyone else knows, Watchers are kind and strong protectors. They are the embodiment of forgiving godlike figures. The truth was rare. Impulse hadn't even heard of Listeners before that night. If they went against each other, and Watchers were framed as the "good guys," then the Listeners had to be the opposite, the "bad guys." Was Grian a Listener in hiding? How could they confirm that without risking everything?
Tango was notified the day after he moved out of the ranch that Jimmy would be released the next morning. He still had to wear a brace for his back and be careful about doing anything strenuous for a while, but nonetheless, he'd be home, and Tango was deeply thankful for it.
Bdubs had gone to bed a while ago, but Impulse had stuck around to help Tango get situated. As the brunette finally left up the stairs, wishing each other goodnight on the way, the netherborne was left alone with his thoughts for a scary amount of time. Despite everything they were doing now, there was still something missing, and there always would be.
He missed his mom. He missed Zedaph. Before he knew it, he was crying again.
He heard stories of people grieving over death, but never in all his life did he understand it was truly this bad. His regrets clung onto him as if they had claws, and if there was anything he didn't regret, then what did it mean now? He wished he could've stayed with his mother, he should've spent more time with Zedaph, all "could've"s and "should've"s and not a single one he could fix now.
Suddenly, he felt something jump onto the couch with him, making its way closer to his face. It was Norman, recently freed from the cone-of-shame he had to wear since the fire. His fur was still regrowing in the area of his front leg that had been torched, but the skin itself had healed by now, and he was walking just fine. The golden brown cat trotted across the couch cushions and forcefully squeezed his head in between his second favorite dad's arm and chest. He was so close, Tango could both hear and feel him purring even before he started gently petting him with his free hand. It helped him calm down far more than he would've thought, and before the blonde knew it, he was fast asleep.