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Chapter Text

Jimmy scowled scornfully at a wooden sign planted hurriedly in the parting of mesa and grass, and the boy near it.

Hey Jim - I’ll need you to watch after Hermes for a while. Sausage and Lizzie are busy. Thank you!
- Joel (all-powerful)

He stared at Hermes, a little boy dressed in blinding purple. A streak of purple was left in his primarily brown hair. Hermes smiled, too little to comprehend who this man was.

I'm busy, Jimmy reasoned to himself. I owe Joel absolutely nothing - rather, it is he who should do me a favour. He nodded to himself, satisfied with his argument. Hermes looked up at his new carer, excited to play. The last time he was dropped off at somebody, she took him on a joyful wheat-trampling adventure.

“Joel can go shove it… what a stupid child…” Jimmy muttered incoherently under his breath and promptly turned his back on the purple-robed boy, grabbing his materials and leaving. Hermes stared, with a feeling of unease.

“Wait!” Hermes cried, a desperate pleading word. Jimmy could not, or would not hear him, and continued down his merry path back to Tumble Town. Hermes tripped, fumbling over his legs. The rocks and dirty path of the mesa sliced a gash in his leg, not deep enough for scarring but deep enough to make a child cry. Jimmy swore, and turned back, to see a snivelling boy dressed in fancy purple, sitting down and wincing in pain.

"Don't cry, don't cry," Jimmy dashed back, panicking. Joel would surely smite him if something happened to Hermes. Jimmy pulled out a Band-Aid, and began disinfecting the cut (for there were tiny rocks embedded in it), which made Hermes bellow louder and louder.

Jimmy helped the kid up, albeit grudgingly, and began carrying him on his shoulders to Tumble Town. If he didn't have a child sitting uncomfortably in between his wings, he would've been there already, but the power of flight was inaccessible for now - he would have to walk.

They arrived at Tumble Town, where Jimmy had discovered his pen of animals was no longer cows, sheep or pigs, rather creepers. There were five green creatures in his pen, staring at him and Hermes. Jimmy cursed, looking at the sign.

Happy early bday jim
- fwhip <3

Jimmy laughed sarcastically to himself, and Hermes peered at the creatures with wide eyes. Jimmy made a turn to avoid the creepers - he would deal with them later - and dashed into his house, where it was safe, where it was -

Where it was now invaded with a brown-haired man with glittering eyes.

"Grian," Jimmy gritted his teeth and greeted his brother, tipping his head in slight, scornful respect. Jim lifted Hermes from his shoulders and onto the couch where he usually sat and read.

"Timmy!" Grian replied, with mock excitement, spreading his rainbow wings in a stretch, taking up all the space of his house. Jimmy knew this was not a stretch. It was an threat. Grian was stronger, wittier and bigger than him. I am better than you, he made that clear.

His rainbow wings were tinted with glittery, blue skulk and he wore his signature red sweater (under Scar's Hotguy jacket).

"What're you here for?" Jimmy asked, sighing. Hermes was toying with a loose thread on the couch.

"Can't a man just visit his little brother without a reason? I wanted to see what you're up to!" Grian smiled, patting him on the back with a wing, his smile too wide to be real.

"What're you up to, then?"

"Honestly? I need a favour, dude. Do you have diamonds?"

Jimmy sighed. He knew that Grian always was in debt, always needed something from him.

"I've got half a stack for you if you let me visit Tango.

"You know that's not how it works, Tim."

"Then why can you pass through?"

"'Cause I'm better than you."

Jimmy handed over a bundle of diamond shards. The conversation always ended like this. Because he was better than Jimmy.

"Thanks, man. You're a lifesaver."

"Just leave."

Grian spread his lorikeet wings and flew out of his house. Jimmy sighed. Ever since Grian had opened the Rift, he had travelled to see Jimmy. He remembered the first time, the first jolting time Grian had arrived:

“What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in twenty years!”

“Yeah, man. Wanna play a game?"

Grian had let Jimmy through the Rift, into another world. It was the world where he had met Tango.

Double Life, Grian called it. Joel was there, too. He barely remembered it. Just Tango. When he had returned to his empire, Grian made an offer.

"Jim... I can wipe your memories. Forget Tango. If you want."
"Please don't."

No matter how much the absence of Tango in his new life had hurt, Jimmy would never want to forget him. Ever. He wondered if Tango was thinking of him, right now.

Before he knew it, he was weeping into his hands. Too many things were happening at once. Grian, fWhip, Joel. Tango. Hermes. Toy. 

He felt the sandy floor swimming before his vision. It was blurring at an alarming rate, too fast. 

***

"Tim?"

Joel was standing over him with a smug grin. He kicked sand over Jimmy's face, laughing as his boot made contact. Jimmy winced as it did; although it had happened countless times before, it would always hurt. He blinked, trying to wink the sand out of his eyes.

Joel used to be his friend.

Hermes was playing with a dried mango fruit peel, gnawing on it with his sprouting teeth, ignorant.

"Joel," Jimmy said, gritting his teeth as he pushed himself up. The sand where his cheek laid was red with fresh blood; Joel wore boots with a small blade attached in the formation of a wing, like Hermes. Blood was dripping from its tip. Jimmy's blood.

Jimmy lifted his shirt to wipe off the blood but it would not stop. He let it bleed. He let it bleed. Joel laughed. Not in the kind way he would before, but in arrogance. I'm better than you.

Jimmy watched the pair leave, blood drip-drip-dripping. Staining the sand of his desert town. His toy-like empire.

Joel was better than him. 

Chapter Text

Jimmy collapsed, trying to apply pressure onto his cut cheek. It must have been deeper than normal.

Tango.

Tango was walking towards him, Tango and his bold expression, his wild red hair.

With difficulty, Jimmy pushed himself up, groaning as he did. His vision focused and unfocused.

It wasn't Tango.

It was a winged man that he had once called his brother: Grian, with his ruffled brown hair and permanently mischievous expression.

"You're hurt, Tim."

That was all he said.

"I'm aware," Jimmy said brusquely, turning away from Grian's arm of aid and lifting himself up, staggering.

Jimmy stumbled towards his home and opened a drawer; he often kept several medical supplies in places around the town. Whether fWhip or Joel were the perpetrator, it didn't matter. Jimmy knew this. This was all he knew.

"I don't want you to be hurt again, Jim," Grian said, helpless. He had no gear in this side of the Rift.

"Then leave," Jimmy replied, wincing as he applied an orange, foul-spelling antiseptic. 

"Come to Hermitcraft with me," Grian said, making a rushed offer. His wings spread wide. His smile wider.

Jimmy turned around. Hermitcraft. 

"Please, Jimmy, please," Grian began to plead. His eyes were wide and red.
"Come with me."

***

The Rift was a purple portal in the middle of nowhere: it was underground. Jimmy removed the blindfold at Grian's instruction. It made sizzling crackling sounds, spitting fire and sparks. It was larger than large, greater than comprehension. It was time and space itself.

Grian grabbed Jimmy's arm, pulling his sleeve, tugging at it. Jimmy was transfixed, eyes wide.

"Come on, Tim."

The feeling of being transported by the Rift was an out-of-body experience. It felt fiery hot, but not painful. A ticklish feeling, followed by an intense heat, then icy cold. A tugging on his sleeve.

Hermitcraft.

The Rift was underground too: Grian's base. Grian passed him a set of mechanical wings: elytra. Jimmy equipped them, feeling stiff in all his joints. 

Grian spread his wings and flew out into the overworld. The sunlight felt different on Hermitcraft: peaceful. Jimmy was not being hunted, not anymore.

"You can crash at my place," Grian pointed.

"Tango."

Jimmy's throat was dry.

"No. Tim, you can't," Grian began to stutter. Jimmy could tell that he had made a rushed decision; that was not how his brother operated. 

"Why not?" Jimmy explained, almost bursting into immediate tears. Finally, he was in the same world as Tango again, and he was barred.

Grian began to mouth words noiselessly.
"Because - because it'll disturb the time continuum!" he lied. Grian was not a good liar.

Jimmy turned away, a smile already forming. This was what his brother was best at. Deception, often at the sake of Jimmy's happiness.

"Fine," he said, trudging into Grian's base as his brother, relieved, flew off. 

Fine.

Joel would not find him here. This must be enough. This has to be enough. He curled up in his brother's bed, trying to blink away the tears. Forget Tango. He wondered if he should ask Grian to wipe his memory.

This has to be enough. He had to live life without Tango.

A pain in his chest begun to arise. It swelled like a symphony and decreased, again and again like an uneven heartbeat. 

A red string curled around his ring finger. A small, unbreakable thread. It trailed off of the bed, out of the door, into the light.

It snaked its way towards Tango's base.

Follow.

So he did.

Chapter Text

Weakly, Jimmy trudged, following the red string. It kept leading him, leading him. There was a pull, magnetic-like. It was as though gravity had changed directions.

Jimmy reached a looming building: blackstone and warped wood.

“Hello, stranger?” an all-too-familiar voice greeted him, its tone speckled with confusion. A firm hand was placed on Jimmy's shoulder. It was covered in a woolen leather glove.

"Tango!" Jimmy almost cried with grief, turning around to face - 
Tango: blue hair and eyes, not his usual straw-coloured tousled hair nor his reddened eyes. His face was smudged with ash and his lips were curled into a questioning, prompting smile.

He looked vacant; instead of reciprocating Jimmy's joy, he was looking past absently at the citadel of stone. It must be his building, Jimmy realised. 

"Sorry, but how do you know me?"

His voice was the same. Tango's voice.

"Don't play this joke, Tango," Jimmy stepped forward, smiling. This was a prank. Tango was going to remember him any second now. Any second now.

"I'm not laughing," he said, confused now. His hand was inching towards his axe that was wrapped around his belt.
"Wait!" Jimmy reached for the axe, trying to stop it. He was juggling, fumbling with his words now. What was going on? His eloquence (admittedly, not much was there in the first place) had left him now as he grappled with his mind for the right sentence. We ran a ranch together? I knew you? I love(d) you?

"Stay away from me," Tango yelled, pushing Jimmy away, afraid. Who was this stranger? How dare he pretend to know him? The bags under Tango's eyes were prominent. He gripped the handle of his axe and swung. One, two, three, hit.

***

"You'd best close the Rift," Tango whisper-hissed. He was a blurry blue blob in the corner of the room. The blob turned towards Jimmy, and Jimmy's heart soared. Wait, no. This was the man who had flung an axe at me. 

His thoughts were as incoherent as his speech. Grian was standing uncomfortably near Jimmy's bed, waving a mournful goodbye as Tango stalked off.

"Jim. You're hurt again."
"I'm aware. Just bring Tango back. Call him! Tango! Tango!" Jimmy began to yell, increasing with volume with each word, grappling against Grian's strong restraints.

"Stop! Let me explain before you get yourself hit again!"

Jimmy looked at his chest. It was bandaged heavily with once plaster-white bandages that were now reddened already. There was a gaping gash where the axe had landed. Jimmy nodded at Grian, letting a sigh escape his lips, gesturing for him to continue.

Grian looked as though he were swallowing stones. 

"Do you remember how after each new game I cast amnesia spells on you guys?" 
Jimmy shook his head.
"Well, it happens. That's why you don't remember. You only remember Double Life, because you begged and pleaded for me not to wipe your memory. To remember Tango, right?"

Just hearing his name sent a jolt through Jimmy's heart.

"Tango did not beg and plead. He simply nodded. He doesn't know you, Tim. He has no idea who you are," Grian said, enunciating each syllable as though that softened the blow.

Jimmy turned away. He should've gotten his memory wiped like everyone else.

"I'm sorry, Jim. Truly. If I could reverse it, I would. Maybe you can rebuild your relationship with him from scratch?"

Jimmy was speechless. He was dead to Tango. Just another face in a crowd. 
Before he knew it, tears began to form. They dropped in an unsteady rhythm onto the blankets. Grian wrapped his wings around Jimmy and held him as he weeped.

Chapter Text

Who was that?

Tango paced around his room in his citadel, trying to remember. The blond man was like an itch he could not reach, a memory buried far too deep. He was connected to Grian, somehow. Where had Tango seen him before?

He needed to talk to Grian. But first, he wanted to work on his citadel! Decked Out! He needed to work.

Tango stumbled out of his room and began to work - he needed blackstone, and lots of it. Tango passed through his Nether portal, rocketing his elytra towards the new patch of blackstone he was prepared to mine out. 

Pick after pick and sigh after sigh. Who was that man? Why did Tango strike him? 

A new voice distracted him from his train of thought.

"Tango, you look..." Impulse landed, his mechanical wings whirring as he did, "great!" 
Tango snorted.

"Yeah, right," he retorted. It wasn't as though he was unaware of the bags under his eyes and the sluggish movement of his limbs. He barely remembered intricate details of his day-to-day life and the face of that man was slipping in and out of his daydreams.

"Here, I'll help you mine," Impulse said, his eyes creasing into a smile. He reached for the pickaxe on his belt, rolling up his sleeves with extra enthusiasm.

"No, really. It's okay. I've got this!" Tango reassured. He didn't need this help. He could do it fine alone.

Impulse stepped back, a little unsure, his face hardening. Perhaps Tango's tone had been a bit more forceful than he had meant it to be.

"Yeah, man. Well, I'll let you get back to it, huh? Good luck," Impulse said, launching back into the air, shaking his head.

Why? Why was he shaking his head? Tango had simply rejected his help. He didn't need help. It was his build, his work. This was nice. Mining was therapeutic, in a way-

***

"Tango, you've really outdone yourself here."

A murmuring of different overlapped voices agreed.

Tango blinked open his eyes to see the crowd gathered around him. Grian was staring at him, concerned. His eyebrows were knitted in concentration. 

Tango jolted up, sitting in his bed now. Impulse was prominent among the crowd, and so were many of his friends. He hadn't seen them in weeks, he realised. He had been too busy working on his citadel. Where was the blond man? Grian's so-called friend?

The blond man was standing closely behind Grian, stretching and yawning. His eyes were focused on the floor as though he was too scared to look up for fear of meeting anybody's eyes. He looked, quickly, suspiciously at his sides as though he was used to seeing something else - wings, maybe?

Grian sighed, again, rubbing his temples.

"The overworking needs to stop. You can take a break, you know?" Grian said, exasperated. 

"I know that!" Tango said, reproachfully. Had he fainted? Was that why Grian was talking about overexertion? 
"Look, Grian. I don't need you to look after me like this. I'm in control."

Grian exchanged a nervous, quick glance with Impulse, and shrugged eventually.
"Fine by me. Do what you want, Tango."

He spread his wings and darted out of the window. The crowd, his friends, exchanged anxious glances and followed him. Impulse exhaled.
"Look, Tango. I'm really worried about-"

"I'm fine, Imp! I'm fine, okay? I enjoy doing my work, it's what I do well!"

Impulse sighed, spreading his mechanical wings and followed Grian's tracks.

The last person, standing in the corner of the room, was the blond man. Bandages were wrapped around his chest, a little red. He had injuries everywhere, Tango realised, with a horrible pang of guilt. 

The pair stared at each other. 

Where had Tango seen him before?

Chapter Text

"Who are you?" Tango voiced, jolting Jimmy from his stupor. 
"Oh."

Jimmy felt the heat across the back of his neck and the tips of his ears spread, spread and spread as he tried to muster an answer.
"I'm Grian's brother," Jimmy replied, awkwardly, as eloquently as possible, which was not at all.

"No. Perhaps I should rephrase. What's your name?"

"It's Jimmy."

"Sorry for stabbing you with an axe," Tango apologised, "I'm Tango."
Tango.

His name echoed throughout Jimmy's mind. It was all too familiar.

"Yeah. It's okay." Jimmy replied, realising that the other was awaiting an answer. 
Tango scratched his arm, exhaling. The gap between the two was a rift, and it was widening with each second. 

"What brings you to Hermitcraft?"
"Sightseeing," Jimmy replied with a wobble of his voice.

"Do you know me?"
"No. No," a teary laugh, "I thought you were just someone I knew."

The pair basked in the silence of Jimmy's lie (and truth) until Grian flew into the window, his eyes narrowing. 

"What are you still doing here, Jimmy? Come. Come with me," Grian said, placing a rough palm on Jimmy's shoulder, tapping him insistently. Jimmy pushed him away, spreading his own elytra and flew out of the window, flicking away tears.

Jimmy winced as the wind swept against his bruises and his cuts. He landed at Grian's house and tried to shut the world away by hiding under the blankets. This wasn't happening. This was not his Tango. This was a different one, an amnesiac. He had launched an axe and Jimmy's chest. Obviously he had zero recollection of the past. 

As the sun set, the tears slid down Jimmy's face.

Chapter Text

Rudely, Grian uncovered the blankets with a flourish. The sun had risen to signal another day and Jimmy had awoken from a troubled, nightmarish sleep.

"Jim-" Grian said, his voice softening. His wings were folded tightly against his body.

"What?" Jimmy croaked. He was heavily aware of the swelling of his eyes and the hoarseness of his voice, both symptoms of last night's heaving sobs.
"Are you here to apologise for lying?"

"Lying? Well, I wouldn't say that. More... hiding the truth," Grian smiled awkwardly. Jimmy narrowed his eyes.
"Fine, I was lying, and I'm sorry. Do you even want to know the truth, though?"

"No. I don't care. Erase my memory," Jimmy replied, apathetic. He grabbed the blankets out of Grian's fists and wrapped it around his body again, turning around.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Are you, though?"

"I'm sure, Grian. Please."

Grian shut his eyes, and Jimmy's world went dark.

***

"Why are you so determined to not let us properly speak?" 

Grian turned and Tango was staring, frowning, at him. He was holding a pickaxe and he seemed more rejuvenated than a few days ago - when he had fainted - so Grian had some hope. After all, his citadel wasn't worth basically killing himself over.

"Who?" Grian feigned ignorance, but as soon as the word left his lips, he knew.

"Jimmy!" Tango exclaimed, running a hand through his spiky blue hair.

"Why are you so determined to get to know him? He's here for a holiday. My brother, y'know-"

"I know that. I'm just confused. Every time we talk, you interrupt. Why?"

Grian's face hardened. 
"It's really nothing, Tango. I don't want him to get used to this place."

"That's cruel," Tango sighed, quietly.

Grian turned away again, spreading his wings, readying himself for flight.
"Why don't you ever tell the truth, G?"

Grian froze, turning around with a horrified expression. He knew that about himself. He knew he was a liar, but Tango had put it in words that expressed his hurt so well that Grian felt a pang in his own heart.

"You want the truth?"

Grian began to talk, and Tango listened with wide eyes. Grian talked until he ran out of breath, wheezing with the release of so many white lies that had rolled into complete deception. The hiding of so many Games, the Watchers, purely for their entertainment. And finally, Jimmy and Tango. The ranch, Double Life, their death. Jimmy's real reason for seeking refuge in Hermitcraft, his mistreatment in his home server, Empires. How he remembered, but Tango didn't.

Tango listened, barely moving, quietly seething.

"You kept all of this from me. From Jimmy. You let me swing an axe? You kept this from all the Hermits?" his voice was calm, barely above a whisper.

"I had no choice! It was the Watchers!"

Tango spread his elytra, shaking his head in disappointment. He hovered in the air for a moment, moving his mouth silently and wordlessly, before saying: "You've separated the two of us long enough."

Grian opened his mouth to retort, to reply, to rebuke.
"I've erased Jimmy's memory," he whispered into his hands, cupping his mouth. Tango did not hear - he had already taken flight, ready to reunite. 

Chapter Text

Tango flew, and flew, and flew. Metal wings beating against the current of turbulent winds, flapping with vigour, bringing Tango closer and closer. A red rope, a string, had appeared, curled around his fingers and tugging him towards Grian's base, underground it, to a glowing purple portal.

It wasn't as though Tango was unaware of portals, no. He was a redstoner! He went to the Nether, the End; but this portal, it had a glow and a pull so bright that he could not resist its call.

Grian was not far behind: Tango could hear his parrot-y wings flapping in staccato, so he knew he had no time. Tango raised one protected boot and stepped through.

The portal's sensation was hot and cold, then hot and cold again. It roared in his ears, matching the rush of his blood, and he squeezed his eyes shut, holding out his axe as though it could defend him.

The Rift in Empires was covered in rubble and dust, and Tango was ejected rudely into the sand. He dusted himself off and rose, hands scrabbling for grip against the coarse rocks. He clambered out of the cave, looking behind him and wanting to escape Grian. Tango rose, realising the emptiness of his palm. He checked his bag: nothing. He tried to fly: nothing. His inventory and elytra had been depleted.

Tango set out on foot, walking and walking along the desert, avoiding cacti and camels, moving towards the patch of green he could see in the far distance. 

It felt like he had been walking for eternity; step after step and pant after pant. He had no armour, no heavy boots, but he was still tired. The sun shone brightly into his eyes, leaving him to rest them in the ground. 

There was a small brown town in the distance: a scatter of houses in a circle. Tango moved towards it, the red rope dragging him still, as he grappled with his throat for hydration, repeatedly swallowing his own saliva. His throat was so cold, so thirsty, so hoarse; all that he could muster out was a poor "Hello," before he passed out atop the porch of the desert home.

***

Tango awoke to startingly blue eyes staring down at him.

"Oh, good, you're awake." 

Jimmy was standing there, yellowy-blue wings tucked neatly at his side. He was wearing a sheriff's hat and badge, smiling brightly. Brighter than the sun.

Tango grappled with his surroundings. He was atop a leather couch and the red rope was gone.

"Here, drink this."

As he drank the cool water, parched, the ache of guilt enveloped him. His first reaction to Jimmy had been delirious: an axe crit fuelled on sleepless nights and muscle aches. How dare he, when Jimmy treated him so kindly?
"Not everyday a stranger collapses at your town, huh, Norman?" Jimmy said, smiling kindly at Tango still - a vacancy in his eyes. 

Stranger.

Jimmy didn't know him. Not anymore. This was Grian's doing. Did he remember Grian?
"I'm Grian's friend."
"Ah, I see. You know, he should be here anytime soon. Messaged me."
"O-okay. I'm sorry. Walked all the way."
"Didn't catch your name?" Jimmy gestured at his cat (presumably Norman) who was purring.
"It's Tango."
"I'm Jimmy."

Tango opened his mouth to speak, to explain, to offer some semblance of normalcy, but the wingbeats were nearing.

Chapter Text

"So, anyway: what even brings you here?"

Jimmy was unsure of Tango, with his soul-fire bright-blue hair and eyes, and his twitchiness. The outback in which he lived in was never often travelled by strangers, and it was always lonely here. Unless, of course, Joel and fWhip dropped by, which was more dreaded than anticipated.

Tango would not stop moving. Whether it was his eyes moving around, searching for something, never meeting Jimmy's own eyes, or his hands, fiddling with the blankets atop the couch.

Jimmy let him have the time to fabricate a lie. Something was off, he knew it. He could feel it.

"Just visiting. Friend of Grian's," Tango said, lifting a glass of water Jimmy had set for him to his lips hastily, trying to avoid interrogation.
"Well, I've never heard of you."
"I don't think you have," Tango agreed mournfully. Jimmy tilted his head.
"No, I know Hermits. I know Pearl and Gem, I know a ton." Pearl and Gem was also allowed between the Rift as much as Grian, the creator, because of her affiliation with both worlds.
"You wouldn't know me."

Jimmy chuckled lightly, a little suspicious now. Did this stranger he had nursed back to health have any ill intent?

"Of course."

The pair sat in awkward, quiet silence for what seemed like hours until Grian broke it with a clumsy entrance into Jimmy's cozy house. He looked dishevelled, face flushed pink and feathers and hair ruffled.

"Jim, I see you've met Tango," the other two exchanged long, knowing glances until Jimmy coughed, breaking their furious eye contact. Tango seemed to want to say something, but only took a sip of his water.

"Yeah. Any reason for coming over?" 
"No, just a check-up. You know that whole scuff with Joel..."
Jimmy shifted in his seat, uncomfortable.
"It's really okay, Grian, I promise you."
Grian nodded after a moment's hesitation and beckoned to Tango with narrowed eyes.
"Jim, give us a moment."

Jimmy left the room, confused, hugging Norman close to his chest. Hurried whispers, muffled by the walls, followed.
Grian's voice rang loud and clear. "Look after him."
Tango's followed: "Can I explain?"
Silence only followed.

Grian's cracked voice broke the silence yet again.
"He's happy now. Do you really want to?"

Their quiet tones and suspicious acts made Jimmy even more suspicious. Did Grian send Tango him to protect him? The pity from his brother stung.

Soon after, Grian took flight towards the unknown Rift again and Tango settled into the couch, deciding to befriend Norman by holding small dried fish, letting the cat jump around for a snack.
"Wanna explain?" Jimmy said coldly, standing up and facing Tango, whose cheeks flushed blue.
"Explain what?" Tango was not a good liar. He averted his eyes from Jimmy's piercing gaze and squirmed in his seat.
"What you and Grian were talking about? And the thing he said, about me being happy now!"

Tango kept his voice at a moderate volume, but he was shaking. 
"Sorry, what?"
"Don't act stupid, Tango. If that even is your name," Jimmy said, fingers moving towards his sword. Tango watched his fingers slide across his belt, and sighed.

"Just let me deal with these people. They're outside your house." Tango said calmly, eyes flashing as he pulled out a bow, eyes darting from window to window.

Jimmy shrunk, tucking his wings tightly to his body as Tango sidestepped him, walking outside, shoes digging into the soft sand.

fWhip and Joel were giggling quietly to each other, tying sticks of dynamite and TNT to Jimmy's roof. They were currently connecting it to a trigger, a lever.

Tango walked outside, coughing so they paused and looked down.
"Who's this?" Joel asked fWhip, who shook his head, as confused as he was. Tango moved quicker than quick, climbing onto the roof and disabling the dynamite before the pair could even draw their swords. They pulled out twin swords, jabbing them in Tango's direction, who kept dodging. fWhip's sword cut the cloth from Tango's arm, leaving a bleeding red mark. Tango peeled the cloth off, tying a tourniquet one-handed as Jimmy watched, uselessly. His vision flooded with tears.

Jimmy drew his crossbow, aiming it directly at fWhip's satisfied smirk as Tango fell. Jimmy shot an arrow, which punctured fWhip's shoulder. He shot again, and again, fury blurring his sight. Joel spread his white feathered wings and flew off while fWhip scurried away into the earth. Tango fell down, unconscious now due to blood loss, and Jimmy caught him, moving him to his couch yet again.

Chapter Text

They were back here again. This same old dynamic.

Jimmy moved Tango's unconscious mass of a body onto the couch, preparing to get to work. His arm was bloodied, the wound ugly and raw. The red liquid soaked into his shirt and dripped steadily onto the floor.

Drip.

fWhip's sword must have plunged further into his skin than he had originally believed, from his lower standpoint. The gash was deep and wide, and probably required stitches. Jimmy moved, agile fingers untying the makeshift, bloodied tourniquet.

Drip.

Jimmy muttered to himself, desperate and angry, moving towards the antiseptic. This wound was not going to be helped by a simple plaster. Jimmy dipped the antiseptic into a cotton ball, rubbing it gently over the slice in Tango's upper arm. Tango shifted, groaning at the pain. 

Drip.

The wound was covered in the oily yellow bacterial-killing ointment, and Jimmy tied a fresh, new tourniquet. He applied pressure to the wound, and helped the waking Tango up. Tango's face was soured from the pain, and he gulped down the painkillers that Jimmy passed him.

"Don't you have hospitals here?" Tango winced, looking at Jimmy. The latter shook his head, flustered. Jimmy helped Tango up, and the pair walked out of the door.
"We have magic," Jimmy said, his eyebrows set in determination, "a witch, to be precise."
Tango groaned, and Jimmy softened.
"I mean, we could go back to Hermitcraft for help. I just... don't know where the Rift is," Jimmy said, offering another option. Tango shook his head.
"I don't, either. I was too... ah, hurried to pay attention. I don't know this world well."
"Our best bet is the witch doctor," Jimmy said, as they walked through the red sand, "she's not far from here. East."

***

Tango groaned. Jimmy was right, the trek wasn't very far at all, but he was still tiring. He could feel the blood leaking out of his wound. Although it had halted, it wasn't looking good. He could feel the anxious stares from Jimmy. Jimmy, who didn't remember him at all. 

He's happy now.

Grian was right. Jim really was happy now. He had Norman, he had a whole empire, for Void's sake! But was he really? Tango remembered the way he had cowered against those two: a gold-decorated white-feathered man and a green man with ginger hair. They laughed like it was routine. 

Tango. He had been pining for you since Double Life. And I know you don't remember what that is. You just... used to be lovers.

Grian, withholding the truth from him until it was too late! Now Jim was an amnesiac, and he knew! He... remembered. He saw Jimmy in his dreams that he couldn't remember at dawn, his golden hair and even brighter smile. He saw the way that Jimmy looked at him, too, all dazed: a stranger that he had nursed back to health twice and nothing more. Nothing more.

But Jimmy was happy. He was happy without the knowledge of the Games, and Grian's schemes, his amnesia-inducing magic. The only inconsistency were the two bullies, but Tango could take care of that, couldn't he? By bringing him back to Hermitcraft? No... he'd find everything out there. Jimmy needed to stay here. Tango would stay with him.

***

Great Witch Shelby had a magnificent green witch's hat and large curious eyes.
"Ah, a Hermitcraft visitor, huh? How'd you get so roughed up?" she marvelled, pouring liquids into jars. Jimmy had told her to brew a potion with a red hue, and the colours fizzled and sparked until the concotion turned bright red.
"Drink this," Jimmy said, and Tango raised the potion to his lips. It tasted vaguely of melons. Jimmy and Shelby were talking as his ears popped and the wound on his arm began to... close up.
"It was fWhip and Joel again," Jim said, and Shelby's eyebrows knitted together.
"I'm sorry, Jim, and Tango," she said, taking the mug back from Tango. He nodded at her. 
"How do you know my name?"
"A witch never tells."

As the pair stepped outside of her home, after many thanks, into the swamp, Jimmy whispered to Tango, "I told her your name."
He laughed. Maybe he didn't need to tell Jimmy everything.

This was enough.

Chapter Text

HI!!!! I'm Crane & idk how to continue this story. I feel satisfied leaving it there, at chapter 9, but then again i do want jim to know tango. idk. Lmk what u think, would u wantmore????
Ok thats all i had to say, thank u sm for reading & kudosing, also if u like mcyt most of my fics are that - scarian, dl!pearl etc etc i also have havocduo (lifesteal). And school bus graveyard (webtoon) & camp camp (cartoon). Anyway see u when i update my fics (never) 

Genuinely lmk what u think cuz im not opposed to writing more, but idk if i should continue or not! thanks!!!

Chapter Text

Grian's wings were faltering. The desert was neverending and tiresome: hot sand flew into his feathers as he swept them and the sun beamed too brightly into his eyes. He could barely speak. His throat felt like sandpaper when he cleared it.
Finally, he could see it. Jimmy's poor excuse for an empire in the horizon, dotted with sand and animals. Grian wrinkled his nose as he landed gently, sneezing when the sand erupted in his face.
"Tim?" Grian yelled over the billowing winds, moving way slower than his liking. He wasn't used to treading sand, and he despised it.
"Grian?" A voice returned, coming from the direction of the largest building. Grian stomped towards it, a few feet in the distance. Two faces popped out of the door.

Tango. 

Why is he still there? 

"Tango, what a pleasant surprise," Grian said, his lips forming a thin smile. Tango returned in a curt sneer, unnoticed by Jimmy. 

"Grian, what're you doing here?" Jimmy said airily, raising his voice in a crescendo over the braying of his assorted animals. 

"Just checking in. Now that I think of it, I'm here to pick up Tango, of course," Grian said, narrowing his eyes. Tango took a step backwards.
"Why?" he asked suspiciously. Jimmy watched their exchange with wide, curious eyes.

"Well, we need you back at Hermitcraft. You should finish your build, after all," Grian said, emphasising the end of the sentence, trying to signal to Tango that it was over.

"I'm not sure about that, Grian," he replied lightly, "after all, we have loads of time. I'd like to spend some with my new friend Jimmy, here in Empires." 

Grian narrowed his eyes and Tango did so back, where Jimmy sat on the couch, oblivious to the terseness of their situation. Norman clambered atop his lap, yawning lazily.

"You know what, Tango?" Grian said, slightly raising his voice. His cheeks were red, and he stared down at Jimmy. 
"Let's have a quick chat outside. How about that, Tim?"

"Yeah, alright..." Jimmy said, frowning as he noticed the ruffled demeanour of both Tango and Grian. Norman yowled.

Grian practically dragged Tango outside, stomping his boots in the sand and lifting them up in flurries.
"What do you think you're doing?" he yelled, making sure they were a respectable distance from Jimmy. He planted his hands on his hips, looking up at the taller man with an icy stare. Tango almost shrivelled.
"I'm not doing anything. I don't have to go back to Hermitcraft so soon," Tango retorted.
"You've been here a whole week!" Grian said, watching Tango's face fall smugly. He had been keeping the time card up his sleeve, ready to faze Tango. After all, the Empires world moved much quicker than Hermitcraft's, because of its shorter life. Thus, its days passed quicker than usual.

"Haven't you been feeling jet-lagged? How long has it been, really?"
"A couple days," Tango frowned at him, and Grian grinned. 
"See. Soon you're gonna spend all your time here, and then your progress in Hermitcraft will grow stagnant."
"Just give me a month - a Hermitcraft month," Tango shook his head, looking confused. He shouldn't be. Grian had told him an abundance of secrets, including the Games' creations, even hinting at the Watchers. Was he dull, or just - well, there was no other option. He was dull. 

"Why do you want me to go back so badly?" Tango asked suspiciously, blue eyes igniting as Grian's quick tongue faltered. Grian looked down. He was ashamed of himself, as much as he liked to repress that fact, that stupid feeling of guilt. Wiping the memories of his friends wasn't an easy task, and he was bound to its role.

"You just don't want me around Jimmy," Tango realised - finally - letting out an exhausted chuckle.
"This place, it's not where you belong," Grian said, trying to segue away from the topic of his complicated brother, "people will realise it soon. You're not even supposed to be here. The only people supposed to be traversing between Hermitcraft and Empires in the first place are Gem, False and I."
"Stop lying," Tango narrowed his eyes and Grian tried to disguise his sudden fear. Tango knew. Tango knows. He lingered on the topic of Jimmy. Tango knows.
"This has nothing to do with my brother-" Grian started.
"This has everything to do with him."

Chapter Text

Tango dusted white-red sand off of his pants, brushing it onto the ground. Grian watched his line of sight falter, and pounced. Tango winced, hearing his piercing, shrill, know-it-all voice.

"Why do you think it's about Tim?" Grian asked, his tone on the edge of curiosity and caution.

Tango wasn't stupid.

Grian's slight twitching, his overuse of the bashful nickname 'Tim', his sudden jovial tone: all signs to hide his nervousness. 

"Oh, gee, I don't know," Tango said sarcastically, watching Grian's mask of a face fall, "the fact that your silly 'Games'" he made air-quotes around the word, "all involve him, you don't want anyone near him... you won't even fend off his stupid attackers!"

"Attackers?" Grian exclaimed, outraged, his eyebrows knotting. 

Another sign: Grian's tendency to focus on the least important point of Tango's argument. 
"Playground bullies, at most," Grian scoffed, "seriously, Tango, I think you're severely overestimating the extent-"

Tango rolled up his sleeves angrily, revealing a red gash of a scar. The Instant Health potion had done its due course, but it had been nowhere close to the strength needed to completely hide a wound like that. 
"Bullies? Grian... you really don't know anything about your own brother," Tango replied, his anger dissipating as quickly as it had formed. Cool sadness replaced it as he watched Grian's face fall again. It would've satisfied him a few minutes earlier, but now he just felt bad for Jimmy. Jimmy. He was alone. He needed him.

"Tango. Don't... don't walk away from me. T-Tango, you heard me!" Grian yelled, grasping a fistful of Tango's shirt. He pulled, but Tango held his ground, spinning away and moving towards the sheriff's building. 
"Goodbye, Grian. I'll see you in Hermitcraft sometime."

"Tango! Don't you walk away from me. I-I... You fool!"

Tango shut the door, drowning out the sound of Grian's voice. Jimmy stood in his kitchen, humming as he set down a coffee mug. 
"Hey! Great timing. You two took a while."

Three mugs of coffee sat on the countertop, and Tango's chest started to close up.

"I'm afraid Grian had to go in a hurry."
"Oh."

Jimmy's eyebrows knotted together as he nervously adjusted his badges on his vest in a pattern. "Are you sure? I... I heard some things." 
Tango opened his mouth to explain, but a whirlwind of words rushed out of Jimmy's before he could even speak.

"And I know you saved my house and possibly my life and all of that stuff, but I still don't trust you, y'know? You're some Hermitcraft random, and I don't think Gr- my brother likes you all that much so really who are you?" he said breathlessly and nervously, squeezing his eyes shut as though expecting admonishment.

"First of all, Grian loves me," Tango said, receiving the right response from his audience: a shaky laugh from Jimmy, "and secondly, yes, I'm Tango. If I had intended to hurt you, don't you think I would've done it already? I'm just visiting Empires for a project I have in Hermitcraft. Ah... cross-relations, and all of that," he explained, offering the half-baked lie into Jimmy's open palms.

"Ah, that makes more sense. I'm a bit paranoid. Don't know if you've realised, but it's really just me here." Jimmy said, chuckling dryly.
Tango didn't know what to say, so he took a gulp of the coffee to bridge the awkward silence. It was surprisingly delicious, with hints of...
"Is this caramel?"
"Yes!" Jimmy answered brightly, taking the change of topic in stride.
"It's very good," Tango said, taking another sip, "how do you even figure out that you like caramel coffee?" 
"Huh? I don't know... trying?"

It was a concept foreign to him. Empires was different. It was slower, literally, but also... more freeing. You could try caramel coffee here. Tango had been living on black coffee for years in Hermitcraft. Years. Drinking tar.

The taste felt very reminiscent of something he had tried before, but it was just out of reach in his memory. Jimmy watched him drink the newfound invention, sipping out of his own mug (labelled '#1 Sherrif! - he didn't have the heart to tell him it was mispelled).

This moment. Tango could stay in it forever. The charm of the nicely built, snug home, with two mugs - Tango ignored the third. With Jimmy opposite him, the two staring at each other, both leaning on the kitchen countertop, Jimmy inside the kitchen and Tango outside. Jimmy's wings fanning them slowly, unnoticably, scaring away the desert heat leaking through the tinted windows. The glint in Jimmy's eyes.

Tango could frame this moment, preserve it in resin or perhaps a museum. Whatever it took to keep it fuelled. Tango could stay in it forever.

Chapter Text

"Hey, Grian," Impulse said, knuckles rapping against the door. Grian whipped around, distracted, eyes flickering. 
"Uh, you okay?" Impulse exhaled nervously, wrapping himself a little tighter with his black jacket, yellow thread dotting it. His beard was neat, twisting with the same yellow thread into decorative braids. 
"Sorry. Just a little distracted."
"Yeah. Have you heard? Tango's missing."

Grian shifted from foot to foot. He never knew how to distinguish types of information; he didn't know whether to lie or share these facts. Impulse's dark eyes searched his, and Grian knew that the act was up.

"Ah, yeah. About that... he's in Empires right now," Grian admitted, guilt twisting around his chest as Impulse's eyebrows relaxed.
"Oh. That's good. I thought something had happened, given that... he's been so tired lately. An accident, maybe. I don't know. I've been thinking too much, hah," Impulse said, his shoulders slowly relaxing. 
"Yeah. Tell anyone else who's worried. He's... visiting," Grian said vaguely, turning around to face his shulker boxes before he could cry in front of Impulse.
"Thanks, G."

Grian exhaled loudly as footsteps retreated, and he collapsed to the floor. His head spun, eyes darting from object to object. Impulse was right. Once again, he had messed another thing up. Somehow, he was always hurting Jimmy and anyone close to him. Somehow, he was his own brother's worst enemy. Tango was good for him. Jimmy was good for Tango's stress, too. But if Tango let anything slip, if his heart persuaded his tongue, then what would happen for Grian? His lies would spill out, one after the other. They were all balanced right now precariously on a tightrope, and it felt as though it were going to burst out of his chest. 

His vision went blurry. Grian clutched his chest, hands scrabbling to grab fistfuls of his shirt for a physical anchor. He breathed in and out in heavy bursts, tears sliding down his cheeks before he knew it. It didn't feel like he were crying. His wings shuddered over his body, shaking as they did. He reached for air, opening his mouth wildly and trying to inhale. The world had become depraved of oxygen, he realised crazily, eyes blinking into focus. 

Grian gulped down large mouthfuls of air, his chest heaving and his nose somehow blocked. Probably because he had been heaving and sobbing, snot bubbling up in his nose. Tears beaded at his eyes, rolling down hotly. His wings wrapped themselves around him, encasing himself in a cocoon. He could hear everything: the rush of blood in his ears, the thudding of his chest, and the shaking of his hands. Bile rose in his throat. His head hurt. His vision blurred.

He'd really dug himself into a hole this time. Everyone would hate him after the truth had been revealed, and he had nobody to blame but himself, and those damned Watchers. A Watcher was what he was and he was a Watcher, and there was no differentiation between the two. He embodied it and their values.

***

"I don't ride horses all that much," Tango admitted nervously. Jimmy laughed, sweeping the blond hair out of his eyes. The sun danced across his freckles, and Tango flushed.
"This is Bullseye," Jimmy said, holding the leash to a horse, its brown fur speckled with white dots, "and Arrow." The black horse nuzzled Jimmy's palm, looking for treats. Tango stepped backwards. Horses were very large. Had he never realised this?
"It's not that hard," Jimmy remarked, decorating both the horses backsides' with saddles and reins. "Come. I'll help you up on Arrow. He's very friendly." Arrow neighed.
"Empires is very far apart. Why can't we just fly?" Tango asked, exasperated. Jimmy beamed at him, his wings tucked.
"Don't you want to explore it authentically?" 
Tango sighed, no argument remaining on his lips.

Arrow nuzzled Tango's hair, and he immediately jumped backwards, disrupting the sand.
"Come on," Jimmy said, stifling his laughter. Tango placed one boot in the stirup closest to him. It was much higher than he had expected, and his other leg stumbled for balance. Jimmy rolled his eyes playfully, his voice tinged with mirth. He moved besides him, strong arms helping him up onto the saddle. Tango ignored the stupid feelings in his stupid chest. Grian was right. It was better like this. It was better with Jimmy not knowing. He was sure that this stupid playground crush would disappear soon. 

"You okay?" Jimmy called to him, and Tango sighed, his voice more shaky than he would like.
"Yeah, I'm good."

Jimmy clambered onto Bullseye with ease, hands clutching the reins. He steered Bullseye directly next to Arrow, who was standing still, awaiting for instructions. The two horses were very well behaved. 
"Do this, okay?" Jimmy demonstrated proper form of holding onto the reins. Tango imitated him, obviously poorly. Horses were difficult. Jimmy leaned sideways, adjusting Tango's grip and hands on the reins. Just a stupid crush, Tango reminded himself. How could he possibly love somebody he didn't even remember loving? Don't be stupid, he reiterated, as Jimmy removed his hands from his. Tango could feel the back of his neck heating up.

It was safer like this. Jimmy being ignorant. Tango just needed to forget these feelings, and everything would go back to normal. 

Chapter Text

Tango did not forget about the so-called stupid crush.

In fact, the feelings, the stupid feelings, blazed even more loudly in his chest. Arrow was stable and steady, but Tango gripped onto the reins with white fingers nonetheless. He didn't trust his own coordination to keep himself upright. Jimmy trotted ahead on his own horse, humming as the sunlight hit his skin. Soon, the strips of sand grew more and more sparse, and were instead replaced by green, lucious grass.

"Don't get used to it," Jimmy warned playfully. He wasn't even holding onto the reins. "It gets pretty yellowy when we get closer to Evermoore. Of course, you've been there before." 

He looked... bashful. Tango nodded to show his attentativeness, and he beamed back at him. And it felt like the sun rained down on his face in golden droplets.

The Evermoore was lusher than he remembered. The last time he came, though, he was delirious and bleeding out, so really, what credibility did he have? Jimmy was right. The grass squelched underneath the two horses' hooves, its yellow-brown-green colour still beautiful. The Great Witch Shelby was a decorator with what she had: lush flowers bloomed on the half-carved out path towards her residence.

Shelby greeted them at the door, grinning.
"Glad you're still here, Tango," she said, with a lazy smile. Jimmy smiled back at her.
"I'm taking him on a tour of Empires for a new architectural design in Hermitcraft," he explained. It was a half-hearted lie by Tango, but hearing Jimmy say it so convincingly made Tango want to build a million blueprints in the Empire style. And he would. He'd start immediately, as soon as they got home from this tour. 
"We'll just tour your base, if that's okay," Tango said, watching Shelby watch him. He didn't know why, but she found him very fascinating for some reason.

The Great Witch Shelby's base was very purple and very green, decorated with all types of flora. Glow berries hung from the branching mangroves, with spore blossoms brushing light green dust onto their shoulders.
"Spore blossoms," Jimmy said, almost wistfully, brushing the green powder off of Tango's shoulder.

The touch was like electricity. Tango shut his mouth, biting his tongue to prevent any expression on his face. He couldn't stop the faint blush, though. Spore blossoms. He whispered an embarrassed thank you for the green particles.

Shelby was too kind. They revisited her, showering her with compliments about her build. A faint blush spread across her ears, and she handed them both each a leather satchel. It contained two red potions like the one that had healed his wound so quickly, two fizzling blue potions (Swiftness), two light purple ones (Invisibility), and two bubbling yellow ones (Strength, in case). 

"Thank you, Shelby. Really," Tango said, his eyes meeting hers. Her eyes creased with kindness, and Jimmy looked so grateful and so...