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Night comes, and Scar can't hide from his feelings anymore. They catch up to him - like everything does, eventually. Scar can never run fast enough.
He's on another mountain, this one green and pink and bright, bordered by tall shoots of bamboo and topped with cherry blossom trees, decorated with growing wheat fields and pens that - sometimes - house sheep and cows. It's all so... alive. So beautiful. So fragile.
The beauty of it is not the surprising part. It's not even that he spent the better part of the day eating dirt or leaves or shovels. No, the strangest thing on the mountain is the people. The strangest thing about them is that they're there at all. With Scar. On purpose.
He can't quite figure it out. The why of it. Jimmy had made it look so easy to say he would stay, like he couldn't think of a million reasons not to. And then Lizzie, who he had invited, and then still been surprised to see her there when he got back. They do it without obligation. Scar had almost forgotten what that felt like.
Neither of them are tethered to him by fate or bound by an oath. They're just there, bright and silly and constant. He'd had something close to it, once, with the allies he'd jokingly called his family, but that had been... messy.
Jimmy and Lizzie make caring about him feel like something simple.
Tell me about your theme park idea, Lizzie had said, and he had. He'd braced himself for- for something. For dismissal. For a roll of the eyes.
A good theme park has three things. Lizzie had mused instead. We need rides, decorations, and a mascot. I think one of us here has real mascot energy.
Jimmy's face had lit up. Lizzie had built three birds at the entrance to their base, standing proudly. Scar stares at them now, shadowy figures in the dark. They're a team. And as much as Lizzie jokes and groans about what a handful the two of them are, they're still equals. They understand each other. Lizzie knows what it's like to be alone, overlooked. Jimmy knows what it's like to be seen as a burden, a joke.
Somehow, despite everything, they trust each other. It's terrifying.
"Stargazing?"
Scar jumps at the voice, a quiet yelp escaping his throat before he can stop it. He twists his torso to look, a jerky motion, and lays eyes on Jimmy, who seems a bit apologetic. "Ah, sorry-"
"Geez, Jimmy, oh my god," Scar says through wheezing breaths, hand pressed to his chest. "This is the life series, man, you can't sneak up on- on a man in thought!"
"Right, sorry, sorry," Jimmy continues, laughing a little bit. "Thought you heard me walk over."
Jimmy sits down next to him, clothes rumpled from bed. It's quiet, fireflies blinking and crickets chirping in the distance. The moon is nearly full, high in the sky. It's early enough in the game that a full nights sleep is still an option. And yet-
"Couldn't sleep?" Jimmy asks, tone light but genuine.
"Oh, you know," Scar says, humming. "Stomach ache. Dirt doesn't agree with me. Who knew?"
"Yeah, glad that one's over." Jimmy stretches his legs out in front of him. "Think I chipped a tooth. I'm billing Grian."
Scar laughs quietly, mindful of Lizzie snoring just a few yards away. That's another thing he's not quite used to: sleeping with others nearby. It's comforting. He's afraid he'll get used to it.
They sit in silence for a while, comfortable and secure. Their frankly absurd amount of bamboo rustles in the gentle wind, cherry blossom petals perpetually raining down around them. It's the kind of perfect peace that has Scar waiting on the other shoe to drop.
"...What was winning like?" Jimmy asks eventually, voice soft.
"...I don't know," Scar says. "It didn't really feel like winning. It was kind of just, like. Sad."
"Sad?"
"Yeah." Scar sighs, leaning back to look at the stars. "I thought it might make me feel better, to just- to prove that I could."
Jimmy hums like he's really listening, like he understands, and Scar... Something settles. Something that has been flinching for a very long time goes still.
"I was tired of being alone," he admits. "Still am. I end up that way a lot."
"Not this time," Jimmy says, a lopsided smile on his face. "Not on my watch."
He places a comforting hand on Scar's shoulder. Grounding. Real.
Oh, Scar thinks. This is what it's like to have something to lose.
"You sure it's not too early to say that?" Scar asks, half teasing. "You might be running for the hills a week from now. I'm not- I'm not an easy teammate."
"Hey, me neither, pal." Jimmy nudges him, smile a bit jagged at the edges. "I'm known for dying early. I've got issues with longevity."
"They make medicine for that."
"Wh- Scar!"
Scar doubles over, wheezing uncontrollably. Jimmy follows helplessly, in a way that almost sounds painful. It continues for a while, until Lizzie makes a small noise in her sleep, and the two of them choke back their laughter to something manageable, tapering back into silence. Scar feels... happy. He feels happy. It's...
"How about you?" Scar asks. "Anything you want to get off your chest? Just between us. And the giant parrot statues."
"Ehh, I don't know," Jimmy says playfully, eying the parrots suspiciously. "I don't know if I trust 'em."
"And me?"
"You?" Jimmy glances sideways at him, eyes light and honest. "Of course. We're the Bam Boys."
Trust is something that Scar had thought he'd killed a long time ago. Jimmy offers it anyway. It's like a lighthouse in a storm. Water in a desert.
Trust. Just this once, Scar vows not to break it.
"So," Scar says, like nothing just happened. "Anything on your mind?"
Jimmy exhales shakily, looking away, down at his hands. There's dirt under his fingernails. Scar waits.
"I don't want to die first," Jimmy says, a faint tone of embarrassment in his voice. "I know it's like, a thing, but I really..."
Canary, they call him. A creature whose purpose is to die.
Scar knows a thing or two about unwanted titles. He sometimes feels like the role of Villain is still branded onto his soul, with the way some people look at him.
I don't want to die, cries the Canary, but the miner only pays attention when the singing stops. How lonely, to have your silence be more important than your voice.
"You won't," Scar says, as close to a promise as he can get. "Not this time. Not on my watch."
Jimmy grins crookedly, something relieved at the corners of his eyes. "That right?"
"That's right."
It's right. They go back to bed.