Chapter Text
A tree falls onto the soft grass, leaves rustling after the collapse. They linger for a few moments, a smattering of muted green. Like wisps of smoke they disappear into the air, until only the branches and main trunk remain. Soon enough they're chopped into smaller logs, evenly measured, ready to be picked up.
Impulse heaves a sigh, wordlessly picking up the logs and putting them in his inventory. His arms, used to this kind of work, hardly protest as he picks up his axe again to start cutting down another tree.
He takes his time. Right now, he isn’t too fussed about finding his soulmate. He’ll find them eventually, or they’ll find him.
With one last thunk of his axe against the wood, the tree collapses, and he starts the process again.
There’s a faint tug in his chest, an all-encompassing pull that thrums faintly under his skin.
The idea of soulmates has crossed his mind on occasion, passing thoughts that don’t really lead anywhere. He’s always had bigger things to worry about, like boogeyman or newly turned red lives. There’s always something to do, someone to avoid, a plan to survive.
Impulse exhales where he’s making himself some tools, rolling his shoulders. He looks over in the distance, taking in the view of the grassy slopes, the shape of what looks like a pillager outpost standing proudly. Impulse bites his lip, looking back at his work.
If Impulse is honest with himself, the idea of soulmates this time around is… It’s really nice.
The main issue is, of course, the shared health. Looking after himself is simple enough. Looking out for another person on top of that is… A little worrying to think about.
Impulse mulls over this, steady hands turning wood into tools with practiced ease. His ideal soulmate would be someone with a plan, someone who knows how to strategize and adapt to change. He wants someone who wouldn’t be reckless with their lives, who will work with him for their continued survival.
Someone loyal, perhaps. A steady presence, at his side no matter what. Someone who will help build them a home, ready to put in the work come rain or shine. Who will share his pain, know the sting of his wounds and help him bandage them up. Who will fight by his side, his partner, his confidant, his best friend.
Someone who’ll beam at him when he comes back safely, smelling like warmth and home. They’ll hold his hand when he’s upset, laugh with him until he’s shaking. Their words will be a balm on a bad day, their voice a familiar sound.
He’ll grin at Impulse and it’ll make his heart leap into his throat. He’ll be bright and bold as he always is, and he’ll be perfect.
He’ll be perfect, because he’s–
Impulse abruptly pushes himself to his feet.
No, no. Absolutely not. He isn’t thinking about that.
His face burns in embarrassment, chastising himself for allowing his thoughts to wander so far. How had that even happened? He’d meant to think about soulmates, not…
Impulse sighs into his hands, and grabs his tools.
He throws himself into the familiar grind of the early phase of the game, gathering materials and very carefully putting that train of thought in a box, pushing it aside to never see the light of day.
He’s a little proud of himself, because he succeeds.
Within a few hours of this, Impulse feels a sharp pain on his shoulder. It feels like a zombie bite, and he jolts, swinging around in one quick movement to deal with his attacker. Sword and shield at the ready, he turns and finds–
Nothing. Just spruce trees and snow.
Realization dawns on him then, watching in fascination as the wound on his shoulder stitches itself back together. Within moments, the skin has fully healed, unblemished as if nothing had happened.
Huh, Impulse thinks. Now that’s something.
A couple of voices in the distance snap him out of his reverie, screaming in what sounds like panic.
“Block it in, block it in, block it in!” A voice that sounds distinctly like Scar yells, edging on hysterical as Impulse comes closer, curious to see what’s going on.
Once he comes into view, Bdubs cries out in relief. “Oh brother, he’s got a shield! We’re saved!”
Impulse laughs, “You guys sounded like you needed some help!”
“Oh definitely, definitely we do.” Scar agrees, nodding his head. “We were gonna go mining, but there’s a creeper down there!” He points to the ground, where Impulse can see they’ve attempted to cover it up with stone.
“Can we get a shield demonstration, Impulse?” Etho says, and Impulse chuckles, shrugging.
“I don’t see why not,” He says, peering over the hole. “I’m going in.”
Just as he’s about to step in, Scar pushes him unceremoniously into the hole.
Impulse yelps, startled. Finding his bearings, he makes quick work of the mobs, blocking a couple of creeper explosions with his shield. Screams and cheering erupt from above him, trailing off once he’s cleared the small area.
“All good!” He calls out, dusting himself off.
“That was very brave.” Bdubs tells him, hopping into the cave. Something in Impulse hums at the praise, and he smiles. Bdubs turns to the other two, “Get in here, come on!”
“Let’s mine!” Scar cheers, Etho in tow.
They all make their way into the cave, exploring it for coal and ore in relative silence, engrossed in their own little worlds. Impulse finds himself observing the others, thoughts of soulmates resurfacing in his mind.
He wonders if any of them are soulmates, eyeing Etho and Bdubs, a couple of feet away.
He wonders if they know.
They’re standing by a furnace, and Impulse watches carefully as Etho burns himself by accident, jerking his hand away with a hiss. His mask may conceal his face, but even from where he’s looking Impulse can tell he’s grimacing underneath it. Beside him, Bdubs laughs.
Bdubs didn’t flinch, or tense up in pain.
Impulse lets out a breath, shoulders relaxing slightly.
He goes back to mining, digging out and grabbing a chunk of iron ore. He doesn’t falter when feels the weight of eyes on his back. Even when his neck prickles and his hands threaten to turn into claws, he keeps his movements steady. Impulse doesn’t so much as tremble as he places the iron in his inventory, inspecting them with a satisfied hum. Not the best quality, but good enough for now.
He turns, and meets Etho’s gaze.
A scarlet eye studies him in the dim cave, calculating as shadows dance across his face, moved by the flame of a torch. He’s a terrifying sight like this, all harsh shadows and piercing eyes.
A weaker man would have been compelled to look away.
Impulse stands his ground, irises glowing a faint gold in challenge.
For a moment, they just look at each other, expressions unreadable and carefully even. After a beat, Etho turns away.
Impulse lets his gaze linger for a second, before busying himself with his things. He blinks, and his eyes return to their normal black.
A sound catches his attention, and immediately he’s on high alert, following the sound through the darkness. He places a couple of torches, nearly jumping out of his skin when he comes face to face with a skeleton.
Impulse puts up his shield, approaching it carefully. He slashes at it with his sword, moving backwards as it readies to fire an arrow. The creature is quick, sending an arrow flying towards him before he can block it with his shield. He tries to dodge it, mostly successful.
The arrow leaves a cut on the side of his arm, stinging slightly and bleeding. Impulse grimaces. From somewhere further in the cave, he hears Bdubs yelp.
“Hey! Did someone hit me?”
The skeleton readies another arrow, poised to shoot. “I got hit,” Impulse yells back, not thinking much of it. He’s focused on the fight, adjusting his grip on his sword. “Just fighting a skelly!”
“Careful there, Bdubs!” Scar shouts in alarm. “There’s one right beside us!”
There’s a strangled noise from Bdubs, and in one quick slice Impulse deals with the skeleton, the force of the blow sending its head flying straight off. The remaining bones clatter on the ground, most withering away into dust. Impulse exhales, wiping some sweat off his brow.
He places the bones in his inventory, and goes to check on the others.
In hindsight, they should have realized it then.
—
This was a terrible idea, Impulse can’t help but think. He dodges a flurry of arrows, a couple embedding themselves into his shield. This was an awful, awful idea.
There are pillagers everywhere, nearly surrounding them as they shoot arrow after arrow, sending them scrambling to not get hit. There’s sounds of battle all around him, a haze of blades and thwips! of arrows as they zoom past.
He can’t remember whose idea it was to go here, but he’s very quickly starting to regret coming along.
Impulse can hardly tell where he and his soulmate’s pain begins and ends, blurring together until his body aches from the strain. They must be at the outpost with him, they had to be. He knocks a crossbow out of a pillager’s hands with a growl. That’s the only explanation, His muscles burn like he’d run a marathon and lost .
In the distance, he sees Martyn slay a pillager with his axe, a few cuts on his face that are bleeding sluggishly. A thought strikes Impulse; what if it’s him?
The thought doesn’t sit well with him, a twinge of not quite right deep in his soul. He staggers over to where Bdubs is sat over on the sidelines, frantically cooking some meat in a furnace.
Call him a weak man, but just the sight of Bdubs is enough to ease his pain, if only somewhat.
When Bdubs catches sight of him, his eyes go wide and alert, sitting up straight. “Impulse!” He calls, “Take what’s in here!” Bdubs gestures over to the furnace, the smell of cooked mutton reaching Impulse as he gets closer.
He sits down on the grass with a relieved sigh, reaching over to carefully grab the food from the furnace. “Thank you,” Impulse says, shooting him a grateful smile. Bdubs grins back at him, and Impulse swears he can feel the warmth emanating from it seep into his skin, burrowing deep into his bones and filling him with light.
He’s been staring, he realizes, so Impulse takes a bite off the mutton, tearing his eyes away to focus on something else. “Oh, this is good.” He groans. Beside him, Bdubs’ grin grows wider, and he shrugs.
“Ah, well. What can I say? I’m pretty talented.” He says proudly, puffing out his chest. Impulse laughs, feeling his strength return as he eats, the pain receding.
"Snuck in the seasoning again, huh?" Impulse asks, eyes glinting with humor. Bdubs snickers, nudging him with an elbow.
“You can’t tell a soul, Impulse. Chef’s secret!”
“I’ll take it with me to the grave,” Impulse swears, unable to look away from him. “I promise.”
The responding laughter from Bdubs makes his chest ache, just slightly. It’s like the skin on his chest is too tight, coupled with an airy sort of weightlessness to it that makes him feel invincible, if only for a few moments.
A thought follows, and he shouldn't think it. He shouldn’t. Not if he wants his heart intact, tucked away in between his ribs. But it comes anyway, uncaring of his plight.
What if Bdubs is his soulmate?
What if he’s Bdubs’ soulmate?
The thoughts make his head rush, mind reeling with the possibilities of being soulmates with Bdubs, tethered together by the universe. A string connecting them both, no matter how far apart.
Their hands brush while they reach for the furnace, pulling Impulse back into the present as if electrocuted. His hand freezes in place, but Bdubs’ keeps moving, taking the last chunk of meat and popping it into his mouth.
Impulse pulls his hand back, feeling strangely off-kilter. He turns his head away, hiding the flush that threatens to deepen on his cheeks.
He’s saved from further thought by a nearby cry of distress, Scar running towards them with pillagers hot on his heels. “Guys!” He screams. “Help!”
“Go get some food, go, go!” Bdubs says to him, handing him some bread while he picks up the furnaces, putting them in his inventory as the pillagers shoot at them. Impulse does his best to fend them off, managing to slay a few before Bdubs calls out, “I’ll attack from behind!”
They deal with the pillagers together, sword and axe glinting in the daylight as they fight side by side. They’re given a brief moment of respite after they’ve slain a few, but breaking into a run once more decide to join in.
“Run!” Scar shouts, a couple arrows flying past them as they leave the outpost. Beside him, Bdubs is laughing from adrenaline, face flushed from exertion as the wind whips by, blowing his hair askew.
His laughter is infectious, and Impulse finds it bubbling in his throat as well, unable to help himself.
If Bdubs were my soulmate, Impulse thinks, giddy with energy. I at least hope he’ll be happy with me.
—
Considering everything, it shouldn’t have been a surprise.
They’re down by the water, Impulse grabbing some iron for gear as Scar scrambles after his allay. Impulse is humming to himself, a simple tune filling the air until a sharp pain explodes from his back, nearly making him drop his pickaxe.
“Skeleton!” Bdubs yells, panicked and rushing in his direction, an arrow sticking out from his back.
Through the pain, something clicks in Impulse’s head, eyes trained on the bloody arrow.
“Wait– Did you just get–” He starts, wincing when Bdubs takes the arrow out, hissing under his breath. He tries again, “Bdubs– did you just get hit?”
Bdubs looks at him, confused. “Yeah? Did you? I didn’t kill the skeleton–”
“No, I didn’t– When you yelled skeleton, I felt pain–!” Impulse puts his pickaxe down, making his way towards the creature.
Behind him, he hears Bdubs sputter, “What are you doing?!”
Impulse opens his mouth to reply, but an arrow hits him on the shoulder, searing pain blossoming from the new wound. Bdubs cries out, the sound triggering a surge of need to protect in Impulse. He snarls, a rumbling, inhuman sound escaping him as his arms fade into a deep black, claws sharp as knives. He grabs the skeleton by the skull and bashes it into the rough stone, its body going limp.
Crack!
He does this once, then twice, until the sheer force of it shatters the bone into pieces. The fragments turn to dust under his hand, spilling like sand. He breathes in, lets it out.
Impulse turns back to Bdubs, an apology at the ready, “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking–Bdubs?”
There’s a few seconds of silence as Bdubs stares at him, eyes wide in a mixture of shock and awe. Impulse feels his more demonic features recede, suddenly embarrassed. “Are you okay–?”
A loud shout interrupts his words, sounding… Happy?
“You’re my soulmate!” Bdubs shrieks, lunging forward. “We’re soulmates!”
Impulse’s brain stutters at the proximity, heat flooding his cheeks as Bdubs puts his arms around him, squeezing tight.
“Ow!” Right, pain. Arrow in the shoulder, should probably take care of that. Bdubs pulls away quickly, letting Impulse take it out. There’s wincing as he does, a whispered ow as he moves his shoulder, feeling the muscle stitch itself back together. Bdubs stares openly, the heat in Impulse’s cheeks worsening under his gaze.
“I felt that,” Bdubs finally says, breaking the silence. “I felt that.” He repeats. There’s a smile on his face, growing as if he can’t believe what he’s saying.
Impulse smiles shyly at him, “Guess that means we’re soulmates.”
Inside him is a whirlwind of emotions, too complicated to parse. Absently, he rubs a hand on his chest, chasing a pain long gone but never truly forgotten. There’s hesitation and fear, a guardedness borne from these games. He thinks of a clock, made with his own hands.
But Impulse can’t lie to himself and pretend he isn’t happy. How could he be anything but, when his soulmate is Bdubs?
His heart is racing, pounding in his ears as he comes to terms with this new information. He wipes his palms down his pants, feeling like he’s about to jump out of his skin from the confusing mocktail of sheer elation and nauseating stress. But the joy in him threatens to leak out as Bdubs pulls him into another crushing hug, Impulse’s lips lifts into a smile.
Impulse can feel Bdubs’ breathy laughter by his ear, shivering. “I’m glad it’s you.” He whispers into the embrace. It’s honest and raw, full of emotion and Bdubs makes a happy little noise into his shoulder, giving him a squeeze.
“I’m glad it’s you, too.”
Bdubs pulls away slightly, bright eyes looking up at him and Impulse feels his lungs constrict, heart in his throat with the way Bdubs is looking at him, head tilted up, expectant.
Impulse freezes up, he can’t possibly be– Is he asking for a–?
“Is it hugging time?” Scar pipes in, head peeking out from above them. “Can I join?”
The moment is broken, and Bdubs blinks, before pulling away. “Scar!” He calls out, “Impulse and I are soulmates!” He cheers, and Scar gasps.
Impulse tries very hard not to pull him back in, trying to clear his head of… Whatever that was.
“No way!” Scar sounds delighted, coming over to their spot. His allay flutters behind him, glowing softly in the night. “Oh, I am so happy for you two!” He coos, “I wish I could take a picture.”
“A picture of what?” A new voice says, and Impulse turns in surprise to see Etho and Martyn on a boat, rowing towards them.
They all turn towards the sound, exchanging greetings as they get closer, the previous moment forgotten.
Impulse lets the conversation wash over him. He forces himself to breathe evenly, hands clenching and unclenching at his side as feels his heart start to steady again. He digs his nails into the meat of his palms, not hard enough to bleed, but enough to ground himself as he tries to relax. Pin-pricks of pain finally cut through the clamor of his thoughts.
He takes a breath in, then out. It’s quieter now.
Bdubs is looking at him in concern, and it dawns on him that he felt that. Impulse puts an easy smile on his face, abating his worries. Bdubs doesn’t look convinced, but lets it drop.
So, he’s soulmates with Bdubs. This is fine, this is wonderful, actually. He thinks to himself, just watching the others interact. He can handle this.
“Hey, Etho! Guess what!” Bdubs chirps, grabbing Impulse by the arm. “Impulse and I are in love!”
Impulse’s face explodes with heat.
Nevermind.