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Chapter Text

This is Survivor: Road to Redemption. It’s the ultimate game with a brand new twist. Ten of Survivor’s most legendary players. Ten loved ones of former players. All living together on one island. They must create a new society and adapt to it, or they will be voted out one by one. In the end, only one will remain to claim the million dollar prize.

39 Days.

20 people.

One Survivor.

Day One

If you were to ask Billy who is his favorite Survivor contestant of all time, he would explain that there’s actually a lot of nuance within that simple question. First of all, you would have take into account any personal biases (Billy’s literal mother competed on the show, so he’s not exactly an objective viewer). Secondly, you would need to clarify if you meant in terms of personality or gameplay or entertainment factor. Thirdly, you would have to be out of your mind to make someone who is such a rabid fan pick only one Survivor contestant.

However, if you insisted that he choose only one player of the dozens of seasons of Survivor that have been on the air, Billy would immediately know his answer:

Agatha Harkness.

Agatha Harkness is the GOAT. She is the best player to play the game, but never win. She lies and manipulates and overpromises, sucking people into alliances and then voting them out, but somehow, she’s so easy to root for. At least, Billy has always rooted for her. All young gay men need an older intimidating diva to imprint upon, and when Billy was 12, and he watched Agatha’s first season of Survivor, he was a goner. Step aside Madonna, step aside Beyoncé, the only diva for him is this mean and beautiful woman who has competed on Survivor three times and never taken home the million dollars.

Well, make that four times.

Because Billy is standing on a beach—no, Billy is standing on the beach—and he is looking directly into her face. He can’t believe this is real, can’t believe this is happening. Not only is he a contestant on his favorite show of all time, but he is going to play the game with his favorite player of all time.

“Welcome,” Jeff Probst—Jeff Probst!!!—is saying, “to Survivor: The Road to Redemption. Now, you may see some familiar faces here.”

Oh boy, does Billy see some familiar faces here. Billy is drowning in familiar faces. The other tribe is full of fan favorites, and when Billy manages to tear his eyes away from Agatha’s impeccable bone structure, the others on her tribe are almost as gag worthy.

Jennifer Kale, who was favored to win Cayman Islands, but had to get evacuated for a broken ankle; Lilia Calderu, who claims the title of having played Survivor more times than anyone else, yet never cracked top five; Jimmy Woo, who, honestly, was lowkey a sexual awakening for Billy.

And there, standing at the edge of the returning players tribe, looking at Agatha even more intensely than Billy himself, is Rio Vidal. Billy can’t believe she’s here, can’t believe she came back. He especially can’t believe she came back on the same season as Agatha, over six years after their legendary blowout at the Old Blood vs. New Blood reunion. After Rio stormed off the set and was never seen in the public eye again.

Until now. Until she is on the same tribe as her most infamous ally in this game, who orchestrated one of the most talked-about betrayals against her. Also, Billy (and every other gay person on the internet) is 100% sure they were sleeping together. Like, they can’t not have been, with a tension he could feel through the screen. Tension he can feel now on this beach, even standing several yards away from them.

“Oh, I see some familiar faces alright, Jeff,” Agatha says now. Her eyes are on Rio. “You know what, you can take me out of the game, I didn’t know I’d be playing with her.”

Jeff laughs. Billy doesn’t think it’s a joke.

“Aw, don’t worry, Agatha,” Rio responds coolly, grinning a wide and frankly terrifying smile. “I‘ll take you out of the game myself. Been looking forward to it for years now.”

There are oohs and ahhs throughout the beach. Billy can’t stop smiling. It’s like he’s watching TV, but he gets to be in it, gets to see every moment of it, even the one the cameras don’t catch.

“Their vibe is crazy,” the woman next to Billy whispers. She has a cool energy, with streaks of red in her hair and a completely impractical but very punk rock outfit for the beach. Maybe Billy will form an alliance with her. He’s giddy at even the thought of forming an alliance. An alliance! On Survivor! He’s on Survivor! He’s on Survivor with some of the best people who have ever played the game.

“You have no idea,” he whispers back.

“What a way to start the game,” Jeff announces. He’s even more handsome in person. “As you can see, you’ve been split up into two tribes. The returning legends will be the Ankara tribe.” He throws them their buffs. “Now, the second tribe, Sivos, are not returning players, but they have a connection to the game. This season is the road to redemption, but that redemption doesn't have to be for yourself. All of the players on the Sivos tribe have a loved one who has competed in Survivor, and seek redemption on their behalf.”

Billy swallows. Shit. He thought this was going to be a typical fans vs. favorites situation, but it seems like everyone will be aware of his connection. Well, they will be aware he has some sort of connection. They don’t need to know his exact connection. His mom has done a good job of keeping him and his brother out of the spotlight; he should be able to get away with it. In fact, it’s kind of imperative he gets away with it.

“Good to see nepotism is alive and well,” Agatha scoffs. She is the only person who has interrupted Jeff so far, and she’s already done it twice.

“Oh, Agatha, I’ve missed our little talks,” Jeff says with a smile.

Agatha rolls her eyes. Then her eyes drift to the ten of them, the Sivos tribe. Billy feels her gaze, swallows. If there’s one person who absolutely cannot know who he is, it’s her. The person Billy wants to play the game with more than anyone in the world. The back of his neck sweats, even more than the Fijian sun warrants. Then he meets Agatha’s eyes, head on. He will make this work. He will play this game with Agatha Harkness, and he will not let anyone know who his mother is.

It’s only 39 days, he tells himself, what could happen in 39 days?

The answer, of course, is everything.

Day Five

Rio had forgotten how much she loves being out here. She forgot how fun this part of it was. Waking up with the sunrise, catching fish with her bare hands, digging through the sand fast and firm during the challenges while the other tribe panics. The joy of it had all gotten washed away with how it ended last time, all her fond memories replaced with a gaping hurt that cemented into searing bitterness.

Rio has always loved the wilderness, would force her family to go camping when she was a kid even though her brothers complained and her parents barely tolerated it. There’s something about being away from the world, from the inane rituals of human life, that Rio has always cherished. Even here, even amongst money-hungry ego-driven survivalists with cameras on them 24/7, there is more peace than in the real world.

“Here’s your fucking bag of rice, you bitches.”

Well, maybe not that much peace.

Because here, out in Fiji, on an island so far removed from their real lives, is Agatha Harkness, being an asshole to her tribe even after they won a challenge, doing her best to piss off everyone in the vicinity all while wearing her bright purple buff as a shirt, exposing the soft curve of her stomach and the smooth line of her collarbone.

God, Rio missed her.

“Alright, Agatha,” Sam says. Sam has been the self-appointed leader of their tribe so far, a classic masculine and charming army vet who won’t see his end coming. “We won this reward together, as a tribe. There’s no need to be…”

He trails off, clearly aware that he can’t end that sentence with anything but an insult.

“…a huge bitch?” Jen supplies. She, on the other hand, is not afraid of insulting Agatha, even seems to get off on it a little bit, which makes Rio feel a twinge of annoyance. She should be the only person getting off on insulting Agatha. That’s kind of her thing.

“Thanks for your input, Jennifer,” Agatha sneers.

It’s funny, they have won every challenge so far—the returning players a mix of brute strength, experience, and smarts that the other tribe can’t keep up with—yet there is still animosity in the camp. Animosity that can trace back directly to one person.

Rio has to stop herself from grinning, watching Agatha spat with the other tribe members. It’s familiar—too familiar—taking Rio back to when she was new at this, her first time on the Survivor beach when she was struck with the audacity and the beauty of this woman, who played this game in a way that hadn’t been played before. Back then, it was easier. Back then, she and Agatha were drawn to an alliance like magnets, with the deadly combination of Agatha’s audacity and Rio flying under the radar, stacking up eliminations with no one tracing it back to either of them.

But now, Agatha barely looks at her. Rio is currently using the machete to split open a coconut, but she wants to take it, press it to Agatha’s throat and force her to at least pay attention to her.

“You know what,” Agatha is saying to Sam and Jen, “you’re right.”

They both blink at her in shock. Rio shakes her head, smiling down at her coconut. Classic Agatha.

“How about this,” Agatha says, smiling. “We just won this nice bag of rice. Why don’t I make us dinner while you all wash off from the challenge.”

“You?” Jen asks. “Offering to do something around camp?”

“What can I say?” Agatha asks, blinking innocently. “I don’t want to be the first one voted out.”

Jen seems to accept this as a good enough explanation, even though it’s clearly not the real one. Rio sometimes forgets that most people don’t see through Agatha’s lies like clear water.

“Alright,” Sam says, “thank you, Agatha.”

Jen rolls her eyes.

“My pleasure,” Agatha says, smiling all too sweetly at Sam and Jen as they go to wash themselves off. “I’ll let you know when it’s dinner time.”

Then it’s just Agatha and the bag of rice. And Rio, watching.

“So you’re making dinner,” Rio drawls. She stands up, tossing the machete from one hand to another. She likes the feel of it. That’s the other thing she missed about being on Survivor. In the real world, people look at you weird if you toss around a knife. In Survivor, they give you a machete on day one. As it should be.

“I’m very giving,” Agatha says, not looking at Rio, instead looking into the bag of rice, digging through it, with her hands still dirty from the challenge.

“Sure you are,” Rio says.

Agatha turns to look at Rio directly, for the first time all day, eyes bluer than the Pacific Ocean that surrounds then.

“Surely you remember just how giving I am,” she says, voice all low and rough and Rio knows exactly what she’s doing here, but it doesn’t stop the flashes of memory from last time they were out here together: Agatha pressing Rio against a tree, Agatha on her knees in the sand for Rio, being very giving indeed.

By the time Rio snaps out of it, Agatha is digging deeper into the bag of rice, turned away. Damn it.

“Looking for something?” Rio asks, knowing the answer.

Agatha ignores her, pushing through the rice so desperately that some of their only precious food falls to the ground.

Then, with a cartoonish, “aha!” Agatha pulls up a scroll of paper out of the rice.

“Good work, sweetheart,” Rio says, stepping closer.

As Rio suspected, Agatha’s eyes narrow at the term of endearment, turning to Rio to glare at her. Rio takes the opportunity to snatch the paper out of Agatha’s hand.

Agatha gasps at her. “The audacity of some people.”

Rio grins, and unfurls the scroll. She knows even before she reads it that it’s a hint to a hidden immunity idol. Of course it is. The hints are always hidden in the reward challenges, and honestly, the rest of the tribe are fools for leaving Agatha, the most notorious idol-finder in Survivor’s history, alone with it.

Rio reads quickly, managing to digest the first line: where you find messages each day, before Agatha snatches it back, teeth baring.

“Finders keepers,” she sing-songs.

Rio glares at her, then crowds her closer, getting into Agatha’s space so she can read the rest of the hint.

Agatha tries to push Rio away while also reading, which involves Agatha’s hand shoving at Rio’s cheek, while Rio still manages to read the second half of the clue: lies a gift that just may help you stay.

It takes a second for the pieces to fall into place, but then it hits, obvious. There’s a hidden immunity idol somewhere near tree mail.

Both of them sprint into the jungle at the same time, Agatha just one step ahead of Rio, rice forgotten. Rio is a little winded already, having fought off Agatha and also just competed in a grueling physical challenge. But she needs this. She can’t let Agatha find an idol. Because if Agatha finds an idol, that means there is one more tribal council where she stays alive in this game. If Agatha finds an idol, that gives her power. If Agatha finds an idol, that brings her one step closer to the merge. And as someone who has played the game of Survivor with Agatha Harkness twice, Rio knows that once Agatha makes the merge, she is unstoppable.

And even worse, the longer Agatha stays in this game, the more time there is for Rio to fall under her thumb again. And Rio can’t do that again. She can’t.

Tree mail sits in a clearing about a quarter mile into the jungle, a large wooden post with a receptacle where production drops off hints about challenges. There are protruding carvings of snakes on it this year, a fun touch. By the time Rio gets there, Agatha is already digging around, exploring every root and crevice where the idol could potentially be hidden. Rio hates how attractive she finds Agatha on her hands and knees in the dirt. Ugh.

Rio joins her, searching under rocks and in branches. Her search isn’t going that well, because one eye is constantly on Agatha, making sure she doesn't find the idol first. Agatha, clearly frustrated, stands up and goes back over to the tree mail receptacle. Her long, beautiful fingers trace over the carvings of the snakes until her hand stills, and she pulls one off the wood. Shit.

Agatha is grinning madly as she reads the back of the snake carving aloud, just to be a bitch. “Congratulations. You have found a hidden immunity idol. If you play this at tribal council, after the votes have been cast, no votes against you will count. You have until the top five to—oof!”

She’s cut off by Rio pushing her against the tree mail post, pinning Agatha’s arm holding the idol in place.

“Is this what counts for foreplay these days?” Agatha asks, a little breathless.

“You wish,” Rio says, plucking the idol from Agatha’s hands with a grin, before stepping back.

She makes it about two inches, before Agatha drags Rio in by her buff, which she’s wearing around her neck.

“I found that,” Agatha grits out.

“And I took it,” Rio responds, trying not to focus on how Agatha pulling the fabric around Rio’s neck makes her out of breath in a specific way that shoots pleasurably down her spine.

Agatha reaches for the idol and Rio uses the couple inches she has on Agatha to keep it out of reach. Agatha growls at her. Oh, this is fun. Every time Rio’s been on this show before, she and Agatha worked together as a well-oiled machine. Until it all went sour. But it’s never been like this, never a push and pull, out here where they are closer to nature, where they are closer to being their animal selves. Rio likes it far more than she should.

Agatha shoves her to the ground and Rio goes willingly, still holding the idol out of reach of Agatha’s wanting hands. Rio fondly remembers when those hands wanted her.

“Give. It. To. Me,” Agatha growls, climbing on top of Rio in a desperate plea for the idol.

Rio, not complaining at all about the position she’s in, stretches her arm just far enough so Agatha can’t reach it. They end up with Rio on her back, Agatha’s thighs on either side of Rio’s hips, one of Rio’s hands on Agatha’s waist to hold her back, and the other still stretching the idol away from Agatha.

Agatha’s eyes are narrowed and her breathing is labored and Rio could kiss her. She won’t, but she could. She wants to. But she won’t. She’s stronger this time around, she has to be.

Agatha looks down at them, their breathing together, the way Agatha’s bare stomach is pressed against Rio’s.

“Wow,” she drawls, “it only took me five days to get you on your back.”

Rio huffs out a laugh. It’s a game, it’s always a game with Agatha, but still, Agatha was thinking about her.

“You could have just asked,” Rio says, grinning, poking her tongue through her teeth.

“Now, where’s the fun in that?” Agatha says.

Her eyes flick back up to Rio’s, then trail down Rio’s skin. Rio is covered with sand and dirt and sweat, but Agatha looks at her like she is something to be consumed. Rio feels her breath catch in her chest.

Slowly, Agatha’s fingers come up to Rio’s neck, following the lines of her throat, feeling the movement of it when Rio swallows. Then her fingertips trail down Rio’s sternum to where her chest is heaving. Rio feels exposed, wearing only her swimsuit and her stupid Survivor buff, yet she somehow wishes she was wearing nothing at all, that all of her was bared for Agatha’s eyes.

“Rio,” Agatha whispers, as her fingers trace the line of Rio’s collarbone. It’s the first time Agatha’s said her name since they’ve been out here. “I missed you.”

Rio goes limp at the words, ones she’s been waiting to hear for six years.

“Agatha,” she breathes, hands coming up to touch Agatha’s face.

And then Agatha smiles, wide and dangerous, as she snatches the idol from Rio’s hand and climbs off of her.

“Thanks, baby,” she says with a wink and she runs off into the jungle, hand clasped around immunity.

Rio just lies back down in the dirt and groans. She’s an idiot. She just presented immunity to Agatha Harkness, the most dangerous player in this game, on a silver fucking platter.

Still, she can feel the imprint of Agatha’s body on her own, she can hear that faint truth tinged in Agatha’s words, telling her she missed her. Rio breathes out, long and slow, before picking herself off the ground.

She feels more exhilarated than she has in years. And that’s dangerous. She needs to get Agatha out of this game.

Day Nine

“So they call her Death,” the teen is explaining to a rapt audience of Sharon, who is holding a bucket for him and Alice to drop clams into.

“Ooh,” Sharon says, “scary.”

Alice rolls her eyes, but she’s almost smiling as she wades into the water, searching for anything edible.

If someone had told Alice during her twenties that she would be thrilled to find a slimy crustacean in the sand to eat, she wouldn’t have believed then.

If someone had told Alice during her twenties that her two closest allies on the game of Survivor would be a kid who is barely old enough to vote and a nice white lady who seems as if she is here by accident, Alice also wouldn’t have believed them.

Honestly, if someone had told Alice during in her twenties that she would have been on Survivor in the first place, she definitely wouldn’t have believed them.

She spent so long running from her mother’s legacy that somehow it brought her back full circle, here on Survivor almost two decades after her mom competed, collecting clams with a teen and a housewife.

“People started calling Rio Death,” Billy is saying, “because she successfully said who was going home during every single tribal council for both seasons she was on. Even if she wasn’t told who the vote was for, she just knew. It kind of became legend that if Rio Vidal said your name, you were as good as dead. Plus, you know, she has that skull tattoo.”

Alice hasn’t not noticed the skull on Rio’s bicep, especially during challenges where they lift heavy objects; she’s only human after all. But Alice isn’t sure about this whole “Death” deal. Feels like superstitious bullshit.

Billy, however, is nothing if not a believer, getting that faraway gleam in his eyes, his little fanboy look. Alice thinks he might be eaten alive in this game.

“Don’t idolize her too much, kid,” Alice says, “You will eventually be playing the game with all these people, you know.”

”I hope so,” Billy says. “If we make the merge.”

Right. And there it is. The doubt. Their tribe has gone down from ten members to eight members in the time they’ve been out here, and tonight, they are going down to seven. Alice feels mostly safe, as safe as one can out here. She’s been decent in challenges, her time at the gym paying off in said lifting of heavy objects, her brief stint as a security guard paying off in her ability to sprint.

Her two clam collecting companions aren't so lucky though. Billy is great at puzzles, but his physical strength leaves something to be desired, while Sharon—who is very fit for a woman her age, damn—gets easily distracted during challenges, not quite understanding the instructions. If Alice was smarter, she would have teamed up from the get go with Carol or Yelena or Cooper, someone rich in enthusiasm and muscle, but she likes these two. They both seem a little like misfits, like people who are still themselves even through the noise of reality TV.

“So the merge is when we combine tribes?” Sharon asks for the third time.

“Yup,” Billy says. “Some say it’s where the real game begins. At the merge, everyone you vote out becomes a jury member. And the jury decides the winner.”

“You need all of them to vote for you?” Sharon asks.

“Just a majority of them,” Billy says. “There have only been five players in history who have gotten every single jury vote. The first one to ever do it was… well…”

Billy looks sideways at Alice, the awe back on his face.

“…Lorna Wu,” he finishes. The first name-last name of it all is so familiar that it sits like acid in Alice’s throat.

Growing up, everyone from teachers to friends to some kid at the pool would find out who Alice’s mom is and then try to pick her brain about it, gushing over Lorna like she was the second fucking coming just because she won Survivor with a “perfect game” back when this show was still monoculture. It was exhausting. It is exhausting.

”Yeah, yeah,” she says, “perfect game, all the jury votes, blah, blah, blah.”

“She’s a certified legend,” Billy gushes.

”I know,” Alice snaps, unable to help herself. “Trust me, I’m well aware.”

”Sorry,” Billy says, “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to—”

”It’s fine,” Alice says. It’s not the kid’s fault. “It can just be exhausting to have a certified legend as a mother.”

“I get what you mean,” Billy says. “I mean, it’s not the same, but my mom was also… it can be weird when people see her as a superhuman force when she’s just a woman.”

”Yeah,” Alice says. He’s all earnest with it, big eyes directed her way.

“Now, who was your mom again?” Sharon asks.

The kid swallows a little. “Rebecca Kaplan. She was on Peru.”

“Sure,” Alice says. She’s never heard of this Rebecca woman, but it’s nice for the kid to empathize. And what does Alice know? She’s only actually seen a few seasons of the Survivor. It’s not really her taste. Too much suffering for suffering’s sake, starving people enticed to backstab and then feeling betrayed when all of it is a ploy to win money. A little too much like real life for a TV show.

“Anyway,” Billy says, “I have a plan to shake things up tonight.”

“Well, that’s nice, Billy,” Sharon says, "but I don’t know if there’s really a new way to cook clams out here. We just have a fire.”

“Not for the clams,” Billy says with a laugh. He shares a look with Alice that they’ve been sharing recently when Sharon says something oblivious or funny. “For the game. We’ve been doing our voting based on challenges, right? All one big happy tribe. But that means that Sharon and I are fucked, basically.”

“No need for cursing,” Sharon scolds him, and Billy and Alice glance at each other again, trying not to laugh. Alice is growing quite fond of him, she has to admit, oddly protective of this 19-year-old.

Even if the plan Billy outlines is risky, and kind of stupid. He thinks he could get numbers to vote out Yelena, who is arguably the strongest member of their tribe.

“I don’t know, kid,” Alice says. “We’re already bad at challenges, and Yelena is strong and smart and, like, weirdly charming. Feels kind of insane to vote her out.”

“That’s why we need to,” Billy says, eyes lighting up. “If she makes it to the merge, she’s going straight to final tribal and none of us could ever beat her. Like, do you know who her sister is?”

“No,” both Alice and Sharon say blankly.

“Oh my god,” Billy groans, “learn your herstory. Short version: Micronesia. Fans vs. Favorites. An infamous group of women teams up to vote every single man out of the tribe. They go down in history as the Black Widow Brigade. Their leader? Natasha Romanoff.”

“I thought you said short version,” Alice says, digging at a particular spot in the sand, and hoping for a clam.

“Fine,” Billy says. “Basically, Yelena’s sister was incredible at this game, one of the best to ever do it. She won twice. Our tribe is losing anyway; why not get rid of the biggest threat in the whole game?”

“You think she’s that big of a threat just because of who her sister is?” Alice asks. “Family isn’t everything. My mom played a perfect game and I’m pretty sure I’m ass at this.”

“You’re not,” Billy says, big eyes on display again. “You’re great at challenges, no one hates you, you have a pretty cool alliance already. Plus”—his eyes get a mischievous glint in them—“you’re about to be part of the first blindside of the season.”

Alice laughs. “You’re ridiculous.” But he’s not wrong. To win this game, you have to stand out. You have to make big moves.

The only thing more embarrassing than Lorna Wu’s daughter going on this Survivor, is Lorna Wu’s daughter going on Survivor and being bad at it.

“Okay, kid,” she says. “Let’s do your stupid plan.”

“Yes!” Billy says, looking very much the teenager that he is as he pumps a fist. “You won’t regret this.”

Alice isn’t sure if that’s true or not. But what she is sure about is that she definitely underestimated this kid.

When they get back to camp, Alice watches as Billy takes aside Kamala and talks to her privately. The two of them have this sort of fangirl bond going on, Alice is sure that Kamala is also aware of the Spider Sisters or whatever. Then, Alice observes Kamala talking in hushed voices to Carol and Monica, her two closest allies in the game. The three of them confer for a while, and then go back to Billy. It’s all whispers and covert glances and gameplay that Alice is still getting the hang of.

Then, somehow, at tribal council, it works. Jeff reads the votes, snuffs Yelena’s torch, she swears at them in Russian, and then she’s gone.

All because of an idea in this teen’s head.

Day 12

It wasn’t Jen’s idea to throw the challenge. In fact, it was Jen’s idea to absolutely not throw the challenge. They have been on a killer winning streak, and it’s incredibly stupid to lose a challenge on purpose, to sacrifice momentum just so they can vote off one annoying person.

Even if that annoying person is Agatha Harkness. Listen, Jen gets it, she really does. She would love to not have to spend a second longer of her precious days dealing with Agatha, but losing on purpose is not the way to do it.

It’s all Peter’s fault. Big Peter. Jen can’t believe there are two white guys named Peter on her tribe, who mostly speak in mostly pop culture references. Jen is friendly to the Peters, and to Shaun and Sam, who she actually likes for the most part, but she is already so tired of these men and their overconfidence. The fact that they can build a load bearing shelter and swim fast makes them think they are invincible. But this is Survivor. If Jen learned anything from her first season, it’s that no one is invincible out here.

“This is ass,” Darcy says eloquently as they head back to camp after losing immunity for the first time in this game.

And Jen has to agree.

“It’s just a minor setback, guys,” Sam says, but he’s grinning. “I’m sure we’ll be back on our feet next challenge.”

“Oh, after you’ve voted me off?” Agatha snaps from behind him. “After you conveniently had all the swimmers siting out on a water challenge?”

“Uh,” Sam says.

Agatha rolls her eyes. “Just admit it, Jesus. I don’t remember everyone being such pussies last time I was on.”

Jen has to force herself not to laugh. She’s still trying to be on everyone’s good side. Well, except for Agatha’s. Agatha already fucked her over three years ago, stabbing her in the back after they’d had an alliance since day one, a move Jen only survived because she had an idol.

So, yeah, she’s fine voting out Agatha tonight.

Jen goes to the well with Lilia when they get back, desperate to not be in the camp with an angry Agatha and a gaggle of overconfident men.

“We’re good on Agatha?” She asks Lilia when it’s just the two of them, filling up the waters for the tribe.

“I suppose,” Lilia says. “We can create an illusion of peace for three days before the real game begins.”

Jen rolls her eyes. Lilia always speaks in these fortune cookie lines that tow the edge between being endearing and annoying.

Lilia must know that she’s kind of a joke to so many Survivor fans, having played time and time again but never made it to final tribal, still coming back here in her 70s to play a game that it’s clear she will never win.

But Jen finds that Lilia is far more interesting and capable than her reputation. She’s always helping at camp, knows tricks for finding fruit and preparing fish, and has stories about the early days, back when there were far fewer barriers to production and one guy killed a wild boar.

Plus, Lilia’s an absolutely perfect person to take the end. She’s famously bad at individual immunity challenges, so her threat level is low there. Jen is sure that a jury won’t take Lilia seriously, which is probably some ageist bullshit, but would work out great for Jen if she’s sitting next to Lilia at the end.

So, she and Lilia are allies. And Jen’s motives might be kind of shitty, but whatever. This is Survivor.

“Great,” Jen says, “so it’s Agatha tonight.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Jen hears from behind her and jumps about a foot in the air.

She whips around to see Rio Vidal, machete in hand, grinning widely like she didn’t just scare the bejesus out of Jen.

When Jen watched the seasons that Rio and Agatha were on together, she didn’t quite get it, why they teamed up so fast, why someone who seemed as down to earth as Rio would team up with someone as chaotic and manipulative as Agatha. Now that Jen has met Rio in person, though, she absolutely gets it. They’re both insane.

“You wouldn’t be so sure of what?” Lilia asks Rio.

Rio tosses the machete up from her right hand and seamlessly catches it in her left. Jesus Christ.

“The vote tonight,” Rio says. “She’s not that easy to get rid of. Trust me.”

Then she gets that haunted look in her eye she gets when she’s talking about Agatha. Jen so desperately wants to ask the details of what really went down between them back on Old Blood vs New Blood, but she is a little scared of the answer.

“So what are you saying?” Jen asks, crossing her arms. “That Agatha has an idol?”

Rio just shrugs. “I’m saying you just might want to get another name for tonight. Just a thought.”

Then she scampers back into the jungle. What a freak.

“So Agatha has an idol,” Jen says. “Great.”

“Maybe,” Lilia says, “this isn’t so bad. Maybe it’s the island’s way of saying… it’s not her time.”

Jen would love to be out here with someone who speaks in normal sentences.

Sam finds Jen when she comes back to camp, and pulls her aside to “find more firewood,” which everyone knows is code for talking strategy.

“We good on Agatha?” he asks once they’re alone.

Jen likes Sam, is the thing. He’s one of the strong guys who thinks he can do anything, but he’s also funny and charming, not arrogant like Big Peter or a blind follower like Little Peter. Sam has made himself a leader out here so easily that even Jen is almost falling for it. Almost.

She considers her words carefully before saying, “do you think there’s any chance she has an idol?”

Sam crosses his insanely buff arms, leaning back against the tree. “I don’t think so,” he says. “I feel like she would flaunt it if she had it.”

But Sam has never played with Agatha, has never had to navigate the layers of if she’s lying or telling the truth. Sure, if Agatha had an idol and wanted people to know, she would. But right now, keeping it a secret works better for her. It means she can control the vote.

“If she does have an idol,” Jen says, with a raise of her eyebrow, “it sure would have been stupid to throw the challenge.”

Sam laughs, a little self-deprecatingly. “You’ve got me there, Kale. If it makes you feel better, we can toss a few votes toward Rio just in case.”

“Rio?”

Sam nods. “I know you’re close with Lilia. Darcy and Jimmy are tight. Shaun and the Peters trust me. So that leaves Rio.”

It’s a diplomatic choice. Rio doesn’t really have any allies out here. But Rio gave Jen that tip. And yeah, Rio’s weird as hell, but if she gives Jen information, especially information on wildcard of the century Agatha Harkness, then she’s worth keeping around.

“Rio would be pissed as hell if she went home before Agatha,” Jen says.

Sam laughs. “I know, I know. But her going won't ruffle any feathers.”

“Right,” Jen says. It’s smart of Sam. Sam is already going for jury votes. Sam is already leading this tribe with a smile. “So, me and Lilia vote for Rio, pull in Darcy for security, the guys all vote Agatha?”

Sam nods. “Perfect. Hey, we either get out the most unpleasant person around camp or Death herself. Not bad for our first tribal.”

He holds out a fist. Jen bumps it. Poor guy, she really does like him. But this isn’t her first time out here. The only thing more dangerous than somebody everyone hates is somebody everyone loves.

After dinner, Jen gets Darcy alone down by the ocean, washing out their coconut shells.

“What do you think about Sam?” Jen asks bluntly.

“Crazy hot,” Darcy says with a grin. “His arms are out of this world.”

Jen levels a look at her. Darcy is the only person on their tribe who doesn't seem to take the game too seriously, preferring to crack jokes over talking actual strategy. But Jen’s seen her play before, knows she’s loyal to a fault. She knows there’s no way Jane Foster would have won Nerds vs Jocks if Darcy hadn’t been with her until the end. Darcy’s a good person to have on her side.

“Arms aside,” Jen says, “hypothetically, if the person we’re all planning on voting out has an idol, what do you think of writing down Sam’s name?”

Darcy looks up at Jen, appraising her. “Oh shit, you came here to play, didn’t you?”

Jen shifts a little. “I mean, yeah, we all did.”

She knows this is a big move to pull at their first tribal. She knows that Sam trusts her, and she can use that. But Rio, “Death” or not, would be a far far better person to take further in this game than someone dripping with charisma who already has a group of men doing whatever he says. Rio’s unpredictable and a loner, but she came through this afternoon for Jen. And Jen can use that.

“Look at you, making a move to take out the de facto leader,” Darcy says. “Very girlboss. Slay, queen.”

“Please don’t use any of those words about me again,” Jen says. “But, for real, would you be in?”

“Are you kidding me?” Darcy says. “This is a dream. Black Widow Brigade 2.0., lets go. How are the numbers?”

“If you, me and Lilia vote for Sam, that’s three. Then the boys vote for Agatha, so that’s five for her. And Sam would think we are voting for Rio.”

“You dog,” Darcy says, with a note of admiration. “I could get Jimmy to vote Sam too, if we need.”

“Let’s hold back,” Jen says. She’s getting excited, that itch of a blindside coming up. “If Agatha doesn’t have an idol…”

“Then she would have just played us,” Darcy finishes.

Jen nods. Darcy doesn’t need to know about Rio spilling. And Jen needs to take everything Rio says with a grain of salt. If Rio’s right, and Agatha does have an idol, perfect. But on the off chance that Rio is working with Agatha, Jen needs Agatha gone quick. Jen sincerely doubts it, given that Rio is constantly staring at Agatha like she wants to kill her (amongst other things), but it doesn’t hurt to be careful out here.

She will not go down in history as the person who saved Agatha Harkness.

Jen is practically buzzing on the way to tribal. Either way it’s a win. Either Agatha is gone, a constant thorn in her side, or Sam is gone, someone who any jury would instantly fork over a million dollars to.

Right before they sit down, Rio glances at Jen and mouths, “Sam?”

Jen starts a little. Damn, maybe this bitch really is Death. Or just logically knows Sam is the smart choice. Jen just nods at her.

“Welcome to your first tribal council of this season,” Jeff says once they all arrive. “You’ve all been here before, you know the drill. Behind each of you is a torch, go ahead and grab one, dip it in, and get fire. This is part of the ritual of tribal council. Because in this game, fire represents your life, and when your fire's gone, so are you.”

Jen still gets chills at the speech. She’s been watching Survivor since she was a kid, and she can’t believe she’s actually out here. Again. Only this time, she will not let something as stupid as tripping over a branch ruin her chances.

“So what happened out there today?” Jeff asks. “You guys have been on a winning streak, fighting through these challenges, wiping the floor with the Loved Ones tribe, but today, something was off.”

There are some giggles in the tribe, mostly being traced back to the Peters.

“Now, what was that?” Jeff asks. “That bit of laughter?”

“Oh, come on, Jeff,” Agatha says, “you know exactly what that was. These boys are so sick and tired of me that they purposefully lost.”

“Is this true?” Jeff asks.

There’s a silence around the camp.

“I wouldn’t say we purposefully lost,” Sam says diplomatically. “But we had an opportunity to conserve energy on the challenge today, knowing that even if we happened to lose, we would still have the numbers.”

“Please,” Agatha says.

“Lilia,” Jeff says, “you’ve played this game more than anyone. Tell me, does throwing a challenge ever go well?”

“You know what, Jeff,” Lilia says, “I’ll have to let you know after tonight.”

Jeff laughs, eyes crinkling up. Lilia laughs back, looking up at him through her eyelashes. Seems like she’s been on enough seasons of Survivor to have an almost flirty vibe with Jeff. Good lord.

“So, Rio,” Jeff says, “Agatha says it’s her tonight. This is now your third time playing with Agatha. Do you think she’s right?”

Rio laughs, long and low. “Well, like you said, this is my third time playing with Agatha. But I don’t think you need to have played with her three times to know that you can never trust a word she says.”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you,” Agatha says with a sneer.

“When have I lied to you?” Rio demands. The normal deadpan is gone from her tone, and it’s cold now.

“You know what you did,” Agatha says.

“I have never lied to you out here,” Rio says. “And you know that.”

“Wow!” Jeff says. “First tribal council and we are already off to a fiery start. Now, let’s talk camp life.”

When Jeff is finally done grilling them, he gleefully informs them that it’s time to vote. Jen feels a rush of power when she goes up to vote and writes down Sam’s name. God, she missed this game.

After, Jeff stands in front of them, holding the bucket of votes. This is it.

“Alright,” Jeff says, “If anybody has a hidden immunity idol and you want to play it, now would be the time to do so.”

Jen sits on her hands for fear of reacting too much. She keeps her eyes straight ahead, not looking at Agatha. There’s a beat of silence. Another.

“Well, Jeff,” Agatha drawls, “I came all the way out here again, it would be a pity to go home so early.”

“Shit,” Little Peter says under his breath.

Jen has to stop herself from letting out a cheer. Agatha hops up to her feet, gleefully and presents Jeff with a little carved snake. Jeff examines it as the entire tribe holds their breath.

“This is a hidden immunity idol,” Jeff says. “Any votes cast for Agatha will not count.”

“Good call,” Sam mutters to Jen.

Jen grimaces. Sam has about twenty more seconds of liking her. At least it’s too early for him to be on the jury.

“Once the votes are read, the decision is final,” Jeff is saying. “The person voted out will be asked to leave the tribal council area immediately. I’ll read the votes. Agatha… does not count. Agatha…does not count. Agatha… does not count. Agatha… does not count. Agatha… does not count. Rio.”

“Me?” Rio hisses. “Come on.”

Sam grins.

“Sam,” Jeff continues and Sam’s grin falters. “Sam.” Sam’s smile has hardened into a glare. “So that’s one vote Rio, two votes Sam.” Jeff holds up the deciding vote. “The fourth person voted out of Survivor: Road to Redemption is Sam.”

“This is bullshit,” Sam says, specifically to Jen, as he hoists his bag up on his shoulder and brings his torch over to Jeff.

“Sam,” Jeff says, “the tribe has spoken.”

Then Sam’s torch is snuffed and he is gone. And Jen has successfully orchestrated her first blindside of the season.

“Dude, what was that?” Big Peter asks as they’re leaving.

“Well, Pete,” Darcy says to him jovially, “there’s this little thing we do on Survivor called voting.”

Jen laughs to herself, as she slings her bag over her shoulder and heads back to camp. She falls into step behind Rio. It’s very clear now that she’s absolutely not working with Agatha, which is a huge win.

“Hey, thanks for the heads up,” Jen whispers to Rio.

Rio laughs coldly. “Well, if I hadn’t told someone, then it would have been my head on the chopping block.” Her voice goes up a few decibels. “Because somebody wrote down my name.”

Agatha, a few paces ahead of them, turns around and grins.

“Oh, don’t worry, baby,” she says cheerfully, “I knew you wouldn’t go home tonight. The vote was just a little present from me. A thanks for blabbing about my idol.”

Rio honest to god growls at her. And like, damn, Jen also is annoyed by Agatha constantly, but it’s nothing compared to this.

“Okay, sweetheart,” Rio grits out. Jen kind of feels like she shouldn’t be part of this conversation. “Congrats on not going home tonight. But there will be another tribal. And another. You can’t escape elimination forever. Next time, I will be writing your name down. And you will be going home.”

“Keep telling yourself that!” Agatha calls, as she saunters away from tribal. “Oh, and Jen? Thanks for getting rid of Sam for me. You’re a doll.”

“God, she’s the worst,” Jen says.

“Yeah,” Rio agrees. She’s still watching Agatha walk away, eyes focused and heated. “It will be her time soon though, don’t you worry.” She raises her voice, calling to Agatha. “Can’t get rid of me that easy!”

“Watch me!” Agatha calls back, not turning around.

Day 13

There’s a change in the air as they all gather in the sand after the sun has risen on their 13th day out here.

Lilia says as much to Jen, who shoots her a look and just says, “okay, Lilia, sure.”

Lilia sighs. These kids, so sure they know how this game works. Lilia knows they giggle behind her back, knows they think she’s just some kooky old lady. But she also knows she’s right.

Survivor is about people. And not just the 20 people they maroon on this island. There are people all around them, holding mics and cameras and taking them aside for interviews and having hurried conversations. Lilia has always been good at reading people, and the Survivor crew is no different, despite their whispered voices and their NDAs.

So when Lilia feels a change in the air, it isn’t some mystical thing about the moon phases (though it is a waning gibbous at the moment, time for change). No, Lilia senses the people around her, the way they are gearing up for something now.

Something like Jeff gathering them all up like cattle and announcing, “drop your buffs!”

“No way,” Jen mutters under her breath. Lilia smirks at her.

“We are switching tribes!” Jeff finishes.

“Told you,” Lilia whispers, before the sixteen people left in this game process what Jeff has said.

There are groans of disappointment and shrieks of pleasure, the young man on the Sivos tribe exclaiming how cool this is. Then, of course there’s Agatha.

“What was that you said last night?” Agatha asks Rio, grin alighting her face. “Can’t get rid of me that easy?”

“We could still be on the same tribe,” Rio answers, petulant.

Lilia sincerely hopes that they aren’t on the same tribe, because she truly does not envy the poor souls who will be constantly stuck with their bickering and violent type of flirting. Lilia played with the two of them together, years ago, and she thought that was bad, their whispered conversations and going off into the forest to do God knows what, but this obnoxious performative hatred is far worse.

Jeff has everyone reach into a bag to pick a rock, instructing them to keep it hidden. The rocks sits warmly and comfortably in Lilia’s palm.

“Okay!” Jeff says, once everyone has picked a rock. “When you reveal your rocks, those with green rocks, take a spot on the green mat; you are the new Sivos tribe. Those with purple, take a spot on the purple mat; you are the new Ankara tribe. Now, you can reveal.”

Lilia opens her palm to see a green rock looking up at her. She quickly glance at Jen, who is sporting a green rock as well. Well, at least there is one ally. Agatha, Lilia notes with relief, is holding a purple rock. Finally, some damn peace and quiet around camp.

When they arrange themselves on their mats, Lilia takes note of the new tribes. Oh this should be interesting.

“What a shakeup!” Jeff says with glee. “Legends versus Loved Ones is no more! The new Sivos tribe is Lilia, Jen, Darcy, Jimmy, Rio, Peter P., Alice and Monica. And the new Ankara tribe is Carol, Billy, Sharon, Kamala, Cooper, Shaun, Peter Q. and Agatha. Here are your buffs.”

He throws them their buffs and then looks out into the eyes of the contestants. Jeff Probst, who somehow has become someone Lilia has known for twenty years, is very good at his job. Often, he has to pick up on cues in a moment's notice, looking to the right people to ask the right questions.

“Billy,” he says, narrowing in on the teen on the Ankara tribe, “you’ve claimed to be a superfan of this game. What does this tribe swap mean?”

“Oh my god,” Billy says, “it means that the game is fully changed. And personally, I mean, I’m pretty psyched to play with some of the people I’ve been watching on TV for years.”

Agatha visibly rolls her eyes at this.

“Agatha,” Jeff says next, zeroing in, “you survived a pretty fiery tribal council last night. What does the new tribe mean for you?”

“Well, Jeffrey,” Agatha says with a grin, “like this child, I’m just so excited to play with all these new people.”

“Give me a fucking break,” Rio mutters from beside Lilia, not as quiet as she thinks.

“And honestly,” Agatha continues, now looking directly at Rio. “It’s a brand new fucking day for me.”

Rio, like some sort of feral dog, just growls in Agatha’s direction.

Lilia, for one, is absolutely thrilled they’re separated. For now. God help her when the merge comes.