Chapter Text
"You won, right?" The sound of Martyn's voice seemingly jerks Scott awake. Martyn hadn't even noticed, caught up in his own thoughts. He mouths 'sorry' and intends to leave it at that, settling back against the hard stone wall. They had to sleep sometimes, and Martyn had graciously volunteered to watch Scott's back while he slept. It... had been a long day.
Scott sits up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He doesn't make any motion to go back to sleep, and instead eyes him. His expression is unreadable.
"Yeah? I- I mean, you were there, right? Watched me get struck down, all that?" He waves a hand in the air aimlessly.
"I just- I want to know what it's like." Martyn says softly. The whispers still ring in his ears. He wonders, if he won, if they'd stop.
Scott frowns down at him, one newly sprouted yellow fin flicking. "Seriously, Martyn, what's this about? You can't be that confident already- you were just talking earlier about how bad your armor was."
He hesitates. How does he explain it? Explain Them?
"Just- did you see anything? Afterwards."
Scott's expression freezes, stuck between shock and confusion and a little bit of fear-
"You have!" Martyn shoots up, ignoring protesting wounds. He reaches over, takes Scott's hands. "You saw Them, didn't you?"
"I- don't- how did you- how did you know?" Scott sucks in a sharp breath, mouth tugged downwards. "Grian said. He said- it was only supposed to be the winners." Huh. That makes... a surprising amount of sense.
"I hear them," he breathes, locking eyes with Scott. "I always hear them. It's... quiet, usually, but sometimes-" He swallows, looks down. "I heard them after you died." After I killed you.
"Okay." Scott nods, forced calm on his face. "I'll pretend like that's completely normal and not at all worrying." His voice pitches upward as he speaks. "Um. Do I need to be worried?"
Well, I think They told me to kill you. And I don't think last time counts.
"No," he says instead. "Not really. It was just... indecipherable nonsense. As usual." Scott's still tense, but his hands relax slightly in Martyn's grip, and he feels slightly bad for lying. And then he realizes he's holding Scott's hands, and immediately lets go.
Scott blinks at him as he steps away, and then down at his own hands, dotted here and there with dark blue scales. He doesn't seem notice how flustered Martyn is all of a sudden, and he thanks any gods but his own for that. He's not sure why he's flustered in the first place, because that's something to unpack another day!
"I don't think I've said thank you yet." Martyn's eyes snap back to Scott. "For killing me," the other man clarifies, which is... something Martyn hasn't heard in a while.
"Well. It wasn't like I was having a lot of fun either."
"Mmm." Scott's only half-listening, he can tell, clearly turning something over in his mind. He waits patiently.
"You- hm. You don't do that very often." Scott looks at him directly, and for a moment all Martyn can imagine is a red brand across his throat. It's a stupid idea, of course. He had stabbed him through the heart.
"No," he agrees. "I don't." Suddenly all he can think about is how alone they are, in their threadbare cave under the ocean. How suddenly vulnerable this feels. He hasn't- he doesn't-
"I guess I'm trying to ask if it means something," Scott says carefully, watching Martyn like he's about to run, "or if I'm reading too far into it."
And that sends Martyn reeling. All he can do is stare at Scott, mind scrambling to form something cohesive.
In the end, all he can get out is "What about Jimmy?"
Scott's face twists sharply, a wave of emotions playing over his features, and Martyn knows he's said the wrong thing. But Scott just clasps his hands in his lap, twisting them tightly together, and looks back up at him.
"What about him?"
"Well- aren't you two..." Fated. Destined. Martyn waves his hand to illustrate his point.
"You didn't see his face today," Scott whispers after a moment, voice cracking for a moment. "When he was chasing me. It was- that was hunger, Martyn. He was going to do anything to kill me. I-" Scott stops. Takes a deep breath. "He wasn't- isn't the same Jimmy I fell in love with."
Martyn sits next to him on the bed, hands awkwardly hovering close to the other. Scott seems like he's about to cry. He looks at Martyn again, something simultaneously piercing and vulnerable.
"You're avoiding the question."
"What?"
Scott scrubs a hand over his head, messing up his already rumpled hair. "I asked if it meant something." Martyn is silent again; not struck-dumb silence, but instead reaching for an answer he isn't sure he knows.
"I remind you of him." Everything reminds me of him. It's still not an answer. Ren had been the world, and then, just like that, he wasn't. It still aches.
"That's not fair. To you." he finally murmurs. Scott just looks at him with clear yellow eyes. He wonders what red will look like on him.
"No, it's not," he agrees. "It's not fair for you to pretend I'm Ren. But that's not what I'm asking." He shifts closer, gesturing for Martyn to turn so they're both facing each other. "I'm asking if it meant something. Beyond Ren, beyond Red Winter, beyond Third Life."
Martyn sits there. He remembers sinking his sword between Scott's fourth and fifth ribs. His first thought had been you're safe now. Like it was nothing. Like he's ever been able to keep anyone safe.
Scott must see the struggle in his face. He takes one of Martyn's hands, squeezing it in his own. It feels... safe.
"It's- just- I- don't you ever believe in fate? Destiny, soulmates, whatever you want to call it."
Scott turns his head, considering. "Well, we've already tried the soulmate thing, and look at how that ended." The small smile fades from his lips. "I think if I'm destined to be with Jimmy, I wouldn't feel the way I do about him. I wouldn't feel the way I feel about you."
That makes Martyn flush, turning his face surreptitiously away so Scott can't see it. "I wish I could escape fate," he admits. "But I hear Them every time. It's- it's like They know, every single time. Like it's predestined."
"Well, try doing something They'd never expect," Scott suggests, half-jokingly. It actually makes him laugh.
"Yeah? What do you propose?" Scott's mouth curves in a wicked smile, and he leans closer to Martyn, until they're almost nose to nose.
"Well," he murmurs, sing-song. He places one hand on Martyn's cheek. "I was thinking something like this." He leans in closer, slowly, giving Martyn plenty of time to back off, to say no thanks if he wants to. He doesn't take the opportunity.
He meets Scott right in the middle. The kiss is driving, fierce. It's nothing like the way Ren used to kiss Martyn, like he was fragile, something easily broken, needing to be protected. He doesn't really want Scott to kiss like Ren anyways, he realizes.
They break apart after a moment, Martyn half-dazed. Scott runs a finger over his bottom lip absently, and he can't help but trace it with his eyes. Scott catches him in the act, raising an eyebrow.
"Did that feel fated?"
"I'm not sure," Martyn breathes. "I think I'd have to try again."