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Tango growled as he paced outside the remains of the Ranch.
He was angry. Actually, anger didn’t begin to cover it. He was furious . He was unapologetically pissed off. He was in the type of mood that usually resulted in Zedaph and Impulse locking him in the nether for several hours to blow off steam. If Joe were here, he would surely write a poem comparing him to Akhilleus or some such figure, as his rage had long since graduated from the mortal plane.
This was worse than when Bdubs had betrayed him during Last Life. Oh ho ho, this meant war .
“I’m gonna kill Scar,” he grunted, as if Jimmy hadn’t heard him say that at least fifty times in the past half hour or so. “Actually, killing him would be merciful. I’m going to go after Grian instead. Oh, that’ll really get to him.”
“Tango…?” Jimmy whispered. The blaze hybrid in question ignored him, continuing to walk.
“I’m going to rip every one of his stupid pandas limb from limb and make him watch. And I’m gonna burn his base– that goes without saying. Shouldn’t burn people’s houses when his own is oh so very flammable.”
Jimmy made another small noise that didn’t quite register in his brain.
“I mean, burning the blaze hybrid’s base? Big fucking mistake. I could burn this entire world if I wanted to.” Tango gestured wildly with his hands, which had erupted into flames the moment he’d arrived at the smouldering build. “No, that’s not enough,” he mused. “Oh, I know. I’ll sick a warden on him. Let’s see how he and his pretty little soulbound fare against a sonic shriek!” He let his flame spread to his neck. He tried to contain it somewhat during the life games, where fire tick was on, but why should he care anymore? The one building worth restraining himself for was already scorched to the ground.
He felt Jimmy tug on his sleeve. “What?” he shouted as he turned, before stopping dead in his tracks when he noticed the expression on his soulmate’s face.
Fear. Fear and pain. That was the only way to describe it.
“Tango, please,” the avian whimpered, before half collapsing into the blaze’s arms.
“Jimmy!” He shooed away his flame immediately so that he could hold him without burning him. “Jim, what’s wrong?”
“Hurts.”
It registered in some part of Tango’s brain that that made no sense. They were soulmates; any pain felt by Jimmy should be felt by Tango, and he felt perfectly fine (physically, at least). Plus, they hadn’t taken any damage. “Where does it hurt, dude? You gotta let me know where it hurts.”
In lieu of a verbal response, Jimmy simply held out his hands.
They were burnt. More than burnt, they were charred : blackened and bloody. What remained of the skin was flaking off in large chunks. They were still smoking. If Tango hadn't grown up in the nether, where burn wounds were the most common injury in species less flame-resistant than his, he would have barfed. If he couldn’t see that they were attached to Jimmy's wrists, he wouldn’t have believed they were hands at all.
Tango gasped, moving so that he was supporting Jimmy more fully. “Who did this to you?” he snarled. “I’ll destroy them. I swear to you, they’ll be out of the game by morning.”
Jimmy didn’t answer, only let out another small whimper.
Tango felt his own flame start to creep back with his anger. It was too strong to dismiss entirely, so he instead focussed it on his forearm– a part of him not pressed against his soulmate.
He felt the fire spark, eyes still trained on Jimmy’s hands.
That was until he noticed Jimmy wince and the skin on his forearm start to bubble, exactly on the corresponding spot to where Tango’s fire had just started.
His brain caught up half an instant before his body did, dousing his flame and dropping Jimmy as he jumped backwards.
Jimmy fell, yelping as he was forced to land on his elbows to avoid his charred hands hitting the dirt.
Tango took another step back, mind racing. “Did my flame do that?”
There was no way he’d done that, right? His fire didn’t transfer to Jimmy. At least, he didn't think it did. No, that was impossible. Jimmy would have said something before now if it did. Tango had been slightly smoking the whole game, there was no way Jimmy wouldn’t have been in pain before now– unless it was the heightened intensity of this flame that had caused it to transfer?
“Uh, yeah?” Jimmy breathed. He rose to his knees, visibly shaking. “It’s fine, though. I’m fine now. I’m sorry. For falling on you. And for stopping you. I’m sorry, it just got to be too much there for a second. You can keep going, I’m sorry.”
“What? No! Obviously I’m not going to keep– why are you sorry– fuck, Jimmy– I’m so sorry. Let’s get your hands in a water bucket. Are you burnt anywhere else?” Tango picked the avian up in one smooth motion, deeming carrying him easier than trying to help him walk, and not giving the avian a chance to argue. He started to bring him into the remains of their home. At least he didn't have to wrestle with a doorknob with his arms full. “Do we have any potions lying around?”
__–__–__–
Half an hour later, Tango finished disinfecting and bandaging Jimmy’s hands. He hadn’t ended up putting them in water; they were damaged enough that that would only let bacteria in, risking infection. He’d treated some burns on his soulbound's neck and arms, too, though those had been much less severe. Guilt weighed heavily on Tango, but it took second place to his overwhelming instinct to make sure Jimmy was okay.
“What I put on them will help,” he commented. “But a burn like this is going to take a respawn to fix. I’m so sorry. At least that’s something to look forward to when we’re on our red life?”
Jimmy didn’t respond. He hadn’t said a word the entire time Jimmy had been treating him-- had barely even winced at the harsh potions. His yellow eyes had remained unfocused. His vest collar was crooked and his hair had fallen into his face. Tango had concluded that he must be in shock, which was concerning, to say the least.
The blaze hybrid stepped back and started to pace the floor. He needed to get his frustration with himself out somehow , and bursting into flame was now strictly off the table. His only other option that didn't involve leaving Jimmy was punching a wall, but low and behold any assaultable walls had been burnt down.
Jimmy started to stand, only for Tango to shove him back onto the mattress, perhaps with more force than intended. “Nuh uh uh, mister. You need to rest.” He stopped his pacing when he noticed that Jimmy was wiping tears from his eyes. He knelt down before him. “Oh, Jim. It’s okay to cry. I know it hurts. It’ll start to feel better soon, I promise.”
Jimmy murmured something.
“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that. ”
“I’m sorry,” Jimmy said louder.
Tango almost whined, the sight of his crying soulbound sending his hybrid instincts into overdrive. Whether or not he and Jimmy were involved romantically, his blaze side seemed to have taken the mate part of soulmate quite literally. “Why are you sorry, Jim? You’ve done nothing wrong.” I’m the one who burnt you. He kept that thought to himself; he didn’t think taking the blame onto himself was going to make Jimmy feel any better at the moment.
“Cause I… I didn’t protect the Ranch. And I made you stop. And now you have to spend time taking care of me.”
“Hey, there’s nothing you could have done to stop Scar. And of course you made me stop! I was hurting you. I wish you’d stopped me earlier. And I don’t mind taking care of you– you’re my soulmate after all!”
Jimmy had started to cry harder, and Tango wasn’t sure how to help. He was starting to get the impression that something other than the burns was wrong.
“I won’t give you reason to do it again, I swear,” Jimmy blubbered.
Tango tilted his head, pieces of the puzzle starting to fit together in his mind. “Jimmy… have you been able to feel my flames the entire game?”
“Y– yeah? You know that, though. That’s why you…”
It all clicked together in Tango’s head, like a stubborn redstone component that finally slotted into place. “You thought I was doing it to punish you?”
Jimmy shrunk impossibly further into himself. “Is that not…?”
“No! Gods, no.” Tango wanted to be mad at Jimmy for thinking he would ever do something so despicable, but how could he when he’d barely known the guy until two weeks ago? Jimmy had no reason to trust him. At least now it made sense why he had been so withdrawn. If anything, Tango was furious with whoever had put it in Jimmy’s head that that sort of behaviour towards him was even somewhat excusable.
Jimmy didn’t seem to know how to respond, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. “Then why…”
“Jimmy.” Tango reached out, resting his hands on the avian’s shoulders. “The flames happen whenever I’m particularly emotional. You know how Grian emotes with his wings? My way is with fire, even if it’s sometimes just a way to get the feelings out of my head. It has nothing to do with you."
"But it's the perfect punishment? It's easy and doesn't make us take any damange?"
"Jimmy. Even if you had done anything even remotely worth punishing, I would not purposely burn you. I'm your partner, not your superior. I'm not like Pearl, getting frostbite just to annoy Scott. I had no idea that the flames were travelling through the soulbound but not my resistance to it. If I’d known, I would have stopped immediately . Now that I know, I’m gonna do my gosh darn best to control it. I can’t promise I’ll be perfect, but if I do slip up, it is not because I’m punishing you. I will never use it against you, I swear on our lives.”
Jimmy just stared at him for a moment, before stumbling, “I can’t ask you to do that. It’s a hybrid trait. It’d be like if you asked me to stop using my wings.”
“Your wings aren’t actively hurting me. Besides, I should probably get better at controlling it anyway. If I burn Zed or Impulse one more time while showing them a thingamajig I’m excited about, I think they’re going to turn Team ZIT into Team ZI.” It was a feeble attempt at humour, but Tango wanted nothing more than to lighten the mood.
Jimmy didn’t laugh. He didn’t respond at all, really, expression one of great concentration. At least he was no longer crying.
“Is there something else, Jim?”
“...But I deserve it,” Jimmy said casually, as if we were simply stating that the sky was blue or the world square.
“No, you don’t.” Tango may not know Jimmy that well, but he didn’t believe for a second that he deserved to continuously get third-degree burns from the one player in this world that was supposed to be on his side.
“But I’m going to get us killed. Canary curse and all– you were doomed the moment you became soulbound to me.”
“So?” Tango moved his hand to cup Jimmy’s cheek. “As I recall, I’m the one that lost our green life. And if it’s a curse, it can hardly be your fault. I would gladly die first with you.
Jimmy sniffled. “You don’t have to say that.”
“I mean it. My only regret about being out first would be that I wouldn’t get to spend more time with you.”
“But–”
“No buts. I’m going to shower you with praise until you believe it. You’re smart, and brave, and funny, and an excellent builder, even if you won’t admit it. I’ve only been soulbound to you for two weeks and you’re already making my life infinitely better. You’re amazing, Jim.”
Jimmy had started crying again, though this time it didn’t seem to be from devastation. “That whole time I thought–”
“Shhh, I know. I’m sorry.” Tango should have noticed far sooner, but that was a crisis for later. For now, he just wanted to cuddle his rancher. “Can I give you a hug?”
Jimmy nodded, and Tango moved onto the bed beside him. He looped an arm around his shoulder, before deciding that wasn’t enough and pulling him entirely into his lap, being cautious of his wings.
The avian yelped but learned into the touch the moment he realized what was happening, nestling into Tango with a small coo.
“You know,” Tango commented after some time had passed of just them watching the sinking sun. “Maybe this could work to our advantage. If there's ever danger nearby, I could warn you by heating up a little. Not enough to hurt, just enough to feel. We could communicate without ever having to say a word.”
Jimmy hummed something that might have been agreement.
“Oh! We could come up with a code. Like, right arm for needing help, left arm for just checking in. We’d have to come up with some way for you to respond, though.”
When Jimmy didn’t respond, Tango leaned over to find his eyes slowly blinking closed. The blaze hybrid chuckled. “You can sleep, you know. I’ll wake you up when it’s time to change the bandages on your hands.”
“Bu’ we gotta rebuild the Ranch,” Jimmy slurred.
“That can wait till morning.” Tango guided the two of them down so that they were truly lying on the bed. “You just get some rest.” Sleeping in a mostly burnt-down base was less than ideal, but Tango didn’t think anyone would be dumb enough to mess with them tonight, and the area was lit up enough that monsters weren’t a concern.
“Mmmm, okay. You're really warm.” Jimmy snuggled further into Tango’s chest. “Night, Tangs.”
“G’night, Jim.”
Things weren’t okay. Jimmy’s hands were going to be practically useless until they respawned and went red. Tango was surely going to mess up and let his flame ignite. They still had a warden to wrangle and revenge to enact. They had a Ranch to rebuild and animals to catch. At some point, Tango knew they’d have to talk more about Jimmy thinking he deserved to be in pain. At some point, Tango wanted to ask whether the ‘Canary Curse’ was an actual curse or just extremely bad luck. At some point, they would die, and whether they were first or last out, Tango knew it was going to hurt.
What Tango didn't know was that one day they would have to wrestle with being confined to different servers, one living a life as a sheriff and the other as a dungeon master. And even when they would eventually reunite, things would not get easier. Then, they would have world-destroying robots and mystical Rifts to deal with.
And maybe one day, Grian would come up with another sick idea for a life game and they'd sign up to go through this torture all over again, if only it meant being on the same server as one another.
So really, nothing was okay.
But at that moment, with Jimmy snoring softly in his arms and the starry sky stretched above them, Tango had full confidence that no matter what got thrown at them, they were gonna make it.
That was Tango's last thought as he drifted off to sleep: they were gonna make it.