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Joel wakes up with a raging headache and some incessant man knocking on his door. Why can’t a man wake up from being in a death game in peace? This dream sucked even more since everything decided to look so artificial and dark. At least he didn’t die this time, he’d hate to go to work feeling like he just got stabbed.
The knocks become louder and frequent, forcing Joel out of the comfort of his own bed, until he’s face to face with his worst enemy. Scott Smajor from his dreams that he really isn't sure are dreams is staring back at him in a business suit. His hands tremble and he’s tempted to get the keys on the side bench and yank it into his eyes. But he doesn’t because he’s in the real world and Joel hasn’t thought of a good way to hide a body.
“Joel, nice to meet you.” His accent is thick, and he holds a forced politeness in his tone. His hand gloved as he holds it out for a handshake.
He doesn’t take it, instead he just glares at the hand as if it might poison him. “Why do you know where I live?”
Scott’s face scrunches into a look of displeasure before quickly masking it with a natural look. “Never mind that, do you want to come with me to kill the people who keep putting us in death games?”
“What?”
“Yes or no?”
“Yes?”
“Alright, let’s go!” Scott grabs Joel’s hand and pulls him into a limousine right outside of his apartment. The limousine starts speeding off before Joel can protest.
Joel only has his phone and a pack of cigarettes in his pyjama pocket compared to Scott who seems to have everything in his limousine. “You’re not actually here to kill me are you?”
He snorts, looking at Joel as if he were crazy "No, I’d hire an assassin to do it. I wouldn’t implicate myself like that.” He’s unsure whether to take his words at face value, but Joel’s been in the special forces; he can fight off Scott.
“So where are we going and who are we killing?”
“Excited about murder, are we?”
“You’re the one who asked me to kill someone, just answer the question.”
“Well we’re going to Scotland to kill Grian!”
“Wait, Grian made the games?” Scott nearly laughs at the shocked face Joel makes, nodding so he doesn’t lose his composure. “Why did you ask me? I’ve been obvious about my dislike for you.”
“I need a winner and as much as I hate to admit it you’re the best person at fighting. I’ve seen videos of you with a gun and I need someone with experience.”
“What about Martyn?”
“Can’t keep quiet enough for a stealth mission.”
“Pearl?”
“Lives in Australia.”
“Scar?”
“Are you just asking to annoy me, or do you not want to help me kill him?” Scott glares at Joel who just gets a cigarette and begins smoking it filling the limousine full of smoke. “So you’re just doing this to piss me off.”
“Why us two? The more the merrier, right!” Scott puts down the window and glares at Joel as more smoke fills the car.
“Fine, Joel. The only reason I asked you is because you’re genuinely the best fighter I’ve seen. Is that enough? Will you stop fishing for compliments?” Scott out of the death games reminds Joel of an angry chihuahua, with his hair slicked back and his suit looking straight out of a magazine. He can’t seem to take him seriously when he’s not covered in blood or dirt.
“Ok fine I’ll help you. Although you need to get me some clothes, I’m not assassinating someone in my PJ’s”
“That’s-That isn’t the clothes you always wear?” Joel may dress weirdly, but he wouldn’t be caught dead in his Hello Kitty pants and an oversized t-shirt that says ‘I survived my trip to New Hermitopia’. He needs to display himself as the masculine man he is.
“Why would I wear this outside? I know fashion, are you calling me an idiot Scott?”
“I mean you did wear a robe to a death game and cosplay'd Don Terretto. I just thought you were eccentric like that.”
Scott is lucky that the driver slows down and stops outside of a luxury apartment complex. Sure Joel is calmer outside of the death games but he wouldn’t hesitate going on a tangent that would’ve burst both of their ear drums.
“Wow Scott, this place looks sick.” The place does indeed look sick. The first floor is made up entirely of marble, a chandler hanging from the ceiling which is at least 4 meters high. The security guards all wear a dark navy uniform you only see in films and the secretary looks almost fake with how perfect she is. “How much did you buy this place for?”
“Only like 25 million but I did a lot of renovations and my rentes are all wealthy enough so I don’t have to worry about getting paid.”
Joel scoffs but awe still covers his face; “A bit greedy of you to keep all this to yourself.”
“Sure, buddy.” Joel feels horribly out of place with his Pyjamas, Scott’s condescending tone and the way he easily orders around Joel further targeting his insecurities. “I’ll let you borrow some clothes, but be quick. I want to be in Scotland by the afternoon.”
He placed his hand in Joel’s to guide him to the elevator. Comfort rushes into him before filling with disgust. Sure, they might be working together now but Scott was the enemy. If this was one of the death games he’d already taken the chance to kill him.
“Wow, I’m sorry you have to use my clothes.” Scott takes his hand out of Joel’s and pretends nothing happened. Why does Joel feel hurt by that? Sure he may be lonely as hell but that doesn’t mean he wants to take comfort in Scott.
“They’ll be too small on me. I have massive biceps.” Scott looks down to see Joel’s toned muscles. He never really had time to check out Joel’s body, always having to look at it strategically but his body was attractive enough. He was buff and had visible scars on his forearms. Despite the silly clothing danger oozed off of him, he was exactly Scott’s type if he learned to shut up and not antagonize everyone.
“Don’t worry. I like oversized clothing.”
“Bet it's still too small for me. You’re a twig.”
“Sure Joel, I have absolutely no muscles at all”
Before Joel can say anything the elevator opens to the penthouse. Floor to ceiling windows cover most of the area showing the building scattered skyline of Hermitopia. The area is clean and cold, it doesn’t match Scott’s aesthetic at all.
Scott leaves Joel to look around as he goes to get some spare clothing that might actually fit him. “You live here?”
“No, it’s just one of my houses when I have to go to Hermitopia for work.”
“What do you even do for work to be this loaded?”
“Real estate, stocks, whatever holds my fancy.” Scott shrugs displaying the air of nonchalance as he comes back into the living room to hand Joel some spare clothing.
“So basically gambling?” Scott just glares at him and holds out the clothes so he can get changed.
The clothes Scott gives aren’t that bad. The jeans are a bit tight but the black hoodie fits just right. It feels a bit disgusting to put his feet in Scott’s Boots but he’d rather not slip because he decided to wear his sandals.
Scott is also now in a similar get up but with black pants instead of Joel’s dark blue jeans. “Your clothes make me feel disgusting. I think this is the ugliest I’ve ever been and I look amazing in everything.”
Scott would disagree and say Joel looks handsome but that would be confessing that he actually finds Joel attractive, “Don’t worry I’ll burn them after you use them. I don’t want your germs on my clothes.”
“Wow, you could at least give them to the poor but I guess a person like you wouldn’t care about charity.” The elevator opens and they step in, tension cracking between them.
“Actually I just don't want to give your germs to them in case it might get them sick.”
“Oh don’t worry, it only spreads through saliva.” Joel takes the chance to try and bite Scott’s hand. Scott grabs a hold of Joel’s luscious hair to push him away but a bit of spit lands on his arm.
“Ew, Joel, why can’t you act like a normal human?”
“I thought you wanted my germs because you kept obsessing over them.” Joel grabs Scott’s hand away from his hair and tries to bring his hand up to bite him again. “Really, my DNA in you might actually make you less of a prick and funner to be around.” He’s not sure what ticked Scott off but instead of just letting Joel go, he grips Joel's hand and brings him closer.
“Why don’t I give you some of my DNA so you aren’t such a psycho?” He hisses out, reminiscent of all the times Scott’s killed him. Scott tries to get his hand out of Joel's grip and goes for his covered shoulder to bite. They manoeuvre around each other trying to bite each other while not getting bitten themselves.
The elevator door chimes open and they immediately stop fighting and pretend like they weren’t trying to bite each other. They walk out calmly keeping close like they don’t want the other dead. “Can you please just stop fighting and at least pretend you’re a functioning adult.” Scott hisses into his ear. There’s no one in the basement garage but he still doesn’t want anyone overhearing him.
“You started it.” Joel mutters out like a scolded puppy.
“I literally didn’t.”
He rolls his eyes yet keeps silent and follows Scott to the 4WD in the corner. Scott hoops into the driver seat leaving Joel to be in the passenger seat. “I know where Scotland is, and I can drive better.”
“My car, my rules.” Joel doesn’t have a reply to that so he just connects to the aux to play some music. He goes to his playlists and chooses his emo music. If he has to be in the same car with Scott and let him drive he might as well make it a miserable time for him.
My Chemical Romance blasts through the speakers, and yet Scott doesn’t say a word, driving them out of the garage and onto the highway.
They both stay silent until Scott begins humming under his breath. “You’re an emo?” Joel says his voice already mocking.
“Excuse me, you’re the one who put the music on.”
“Yeah too, annoy you. I didn’t think you actually liked it.”
“You obviously like it as well or else why do you have a playlist full of Emo songs?”
“I searched it up on Spotify.” Joel lies but Scott knows that his voice going higher is a sign that he lied.
“Yeah sure, we all know that’s a lie.”
Joel lets out a weird little laugh and changes his playlist again to his calming one and shuts up for the time being. Being with Scott is exhausting and he hates it, but if he really does want to stop these death games he shouldn’t get angry at him.
They continue driving down the highway, the drive to Scotland is 7 hours and they have another 2 to get to where Grian apparently lives. They both continue to be silent until the 2 hour mark.
“Scott, I’m hungry. There’s a gas station soon so can we stop there?” Scott gives the most disgusted look at the thought and glares at him.
“I am not getting myself sick with gas station food.”
“Oh come on, stop being such a prick. It’s good and you don’t have to eat it anyway.”
“No? What if you get sick?”
“It disgusts me when you pretend to care about me.” Joel tries to pass it off as a joke but there’s an edge in his voice that only comes out when someone hurts Lizzie.
“Oh, you know you like it. Anyway there’s a good restaurant in 30 minutes, we can stop there.”
“I’m not waiting 30 minutes just to pay $100 for something that won’t fill me up.” They pass the gas station that looks half abandoned. There are a few truckers there but they’re all lining up for the toilet. It makes Joel feel good that Scott didn’t listen to him.
“I’ll pay for it if you’re such a cheapskate.”
“I’m just being reasonable. I’m not a millionaire, and the more we stop, the longer it’ll take. I don’t want you to be driving at nighttime; I’m already scared that you’re driving right now.”
“We should go anyway. It’ll take 10 minutes max, and I’ll even let you drive afterwards.” Scott didn’t know why he was trying to bribe Joel. He was the one driving, he didn’t have to make him feel any better.
“Fine, but you better pay.” Scott lets out a gross snort that would probably stop continues driving. The air clears slightly, and the silence no longer feels oppressive.
They arrive at the restaurant on the outskirts of a small town. Joel’s not sure what he was expecting, but not something so cozy. It’s a tiny wooden cabin with a cobblestone path, a pink roof and a small sign with chalk drawings of fairies on it. “Cute; it reminds me of something you’d live in.”
“Really? It’s more similar to the cabin you made in the second game. You know, when you pretended to be a wizard and all that.” Joel made a disgusted face at that.
“My cabin was much more sophisticated than this.” He grumbles out as he shuts the door like a moody teenager.
“It literally had a face on it.”
“Yes and it looked beautiful”
A grin appeared on both men as they tried to keep from laughing. They both knew that the cottage was a mess especially after it kept getting burnt or bombed.
“I have to admit it was a good cottage though. I’m sure whoever built this place could use some building tips from you.”
“Wow the great Scott Smajor actually complimenting me? Is this a miracle?”
“I take it back now. You don’t deserve my compliments.” They glared at each other but with a lack of malice. They really should be hating each other more but without the fear of injury or death they seemed much more willing to trust.
They grabbed some pastries at the bakery and were on the road before long. Scott didn’t complain about eating in the car, he would’ve but he knew Joel would just call him a snob. At least Joel seemed to enjoy touching his steering wheel with his grubby, oily fingers.
Some sort of inane radio hit came on and blasted through the car. Joel tossed his rubbish into Scott’s lap before immediately picking it up and throwing it to the back seat.
“Forgot you were there.” He mumbled out, eyes still on the road. It was as close as an apology Scott had heard from Joel towards him. He breathed in and out to calm himself. They were just getting along, he won’t start a fight over Joel’s gross habits.
He clicked his tongue but continued to keep quiet. It was silly of Scott to think he could be friends with Joel just because he wasn’t being his usual asshole self. They continued travelling on the highway making their way through Forrest’s and small towns, Scott trying not to get angry at Joel for every little gross thing he did.
“How did you find out Grian controls the games?” Joel asks after a few hours of being on the road.
It was weird that Joel would ask him a question all of the sudden. Especially since he didn’t insult him. “Well, it was actually quite easy. Firstly I thought he was just a host of some sort and we were in some sort of experiment or sadistic reality tv show.” He mutters, bringing his phone out typing some sort of thing in his files app as he continues talking. “Then I thought I might have been cursed.”
“Did the fact that you might be going crazy ever cross your mind?” He snorts and shakes his head.
“No, I knew someone else who was having the dreams as well.” Scott looks up expectantly but Joel doesn’t press. He thinks he knows who Scott is talking about. “So really the only two possibilities were some sort of sci-fi bullshit or something supernatural. I investigated everyone who was in my dreams. It took close to 3 years but I found everyone except Grian who was the target of my initial search.” Joel’s eyes flick between the phone and the road to look at all the information Scott had amassed for over 4 years.
“I mean we all knew Grian wasn’t exactly a victim in this scenario.”
“Yeah, I guess so but I thought I could find him. Or at least pay someone else to find him. It never really worked out. I think it was luck that I found out that Grian is some sort of god.” Joel’s eyes raise and he turns to look at Scott gobsmacked. He knew the games were some sort of supernatural phenomena but thinking that and hearing someone else say it was an entirely different thing.
“I mean a god. Not some sort of eldritch abomination?”
“I mean I think he is a god. Or at least something very powerful, I have a few theories but nothing I can confirm. Anyway stop talking, you're putting me off track.” He mutters out and pushes Joel cheek softly so he has his eyes on the road.
“Wha-“
“I think it was just before the fourth game. The one with the 240 hour timers. My friend, who's a writer, was researching about pagan cults in the 17th century. I was at the library with her when I found this cult based on deities called the watchers. The cult itself died off due to an illness that spread among the members but the deities themselves seemed to exist for a long time.
“They seemed to be some sort of god of dreams or negative feelings, I’m still not sure. The book had descriptions of what these watchers looked like, purple hoods and dark eyes that looked like the void. You saw him like that at the end as well. Whenever he gets a permakill his form changes slightly to resemble one like a watcher.
“I hired a private detective to research it for me and I found a cult worshipping the watchers in Scotland. It was…. Intense. I tried to get people to kill him or call the cops or something to stop him.” Joel catches Scott’s eyes through the rear view mirror, he can smell the shame and embarrassment that Scott’s trying to hide.
“How are we supposed to kill him if assassins can’t kill him? Hell, Scott I’m good with a gun but it’s been years since I left the special forces.” He should’ve known better than to trust Scott. Is he really going to send Joel on a suicide mission? Scott’s perma-killed Joel a lot but he thought he wouldn’t be cruel enough to kill him in real life.
“Well, only winners can kill him, and surprisingly you’re the only one I trust.” Joel snorts a harsh laugh, his body still tight. There’s something Scott isn’t telling him.
“Scott, tell me what happened to the other winners?” His voice is harsh as if he’s going on the attack.
“Pearl and Martyn were a part of the cult and Scar,” he gulps “is in a coma. It was sudden and there was no cause found.”
“Is that why you desperately want to stop the games? Because you think it can save Scar?”
“I mean sure but there are other reasons why I want to end the games.” Scott normally hides his emotions well, but even a snail could see that he was insecure.
“Other reasons? Like what, I know you enjoy the games.”
“I don’t? Stop projecting on me.” If it was anyone else they’d take what Scott says at face value but Joel has known him for nearly 4 years now. They’d kill and hurt each other over and over again. After a while it becomes self preservation to know the intricacies of your murder.
“I know that’s a lie Scott. I think you enjoy it more than I do, you’re just better at pretending than I am.” Joel’s left hand is taken off the car wheel, his wrist suddenly in Scott’s tight grip. “Let go, you're going to crash the car.”
The bloodlust drains out of Scott’s face and he lets go. He wants to rip off that annoying incessant smirk off of Joel’s face. “Seriously though, why do you want to stop this?”
“It feels like you’re trying to talk me out of this.” He grumbles out with his arms crossed.
“No, no it’s a serious question.”
“Well first of all I don’t enjoy being scared or waking up like I’ve been stabbed 100 times.” He tries to be calm but it’s rather hard when he has to look at Joel and his stupid handsome smirk.
“I think you have a better reason. Come on, you wouldn’t have asked me to help you if you didn’t truly want this.” He pauses for a moment taking a glance at Scott’s Lock Screen. “Is it for Jimmy?”
Scott nearly flinches, his eyes sharpening with anger. “I’m doing this for the exact same reason as you.” They glare at each other eyes full of hatred. Joel doesn’t push, he just goes back to staring at the road.
They both know why they’re here. To prove they’re not horrible psychotic monsters. To try to make their loved ones' lives a bit better. Loneliness is something that infects the both of them, the dreams both being a clutch and something that has ruined them.
“So when did Jimmy break up with you?”
“A little after the first set of dreams. When did Lizzie break up with you?”
“After the second game.” Scott sends a little hum of understanding. He’s still angry at what Joel said, but it’s overwhelmed by the relief he feels that someone understands him, that he doesn’t have to keep all the dirty, shameful parts of himself locked away.
“I’m glad you came with me. I need some help with killing Grian, and you’re a good driver.”
“I’m the best.” Joel sends an arrogant smirk to Scott that holds no ill will towards him. Their eyes meet as laughter tries not to tumble out of their mouths.
The headlights automatically click on sensing night wash over them; they look away. They’ll always be enemies, sure they might be working together now, but they’re not friends, or allies, or some messed up version of lovers. The moon starts to rise over them as stars appear in the night sky. A tense silence joins them on the ride, how can they even kill a god if they can’t talk without fighting?
“Where’s the cult?” Joel asks. He’s trying to act more aggressive than he usually is.
“Close.”
“That’s not an answer is it? Do you even know where you’re going?”
“I do, stop doubting me.’ Joel is annoying him again. It’s always the same cycle, they start to get close and Joel pushes him away again.
“You’re not even using a GPS or a map, just telling me where to go.”
“I’ve been here a lot, just trust me.”
“How can I trust you, you’re an asshole who doesn’t tell me anything.” Scott shouldn’t be called an asshole by the most horrible person he’s ever met but Joel doesn’t care about feelings or manners. He's dead focused on killing Grian which means being rude to Scott apparently.
“You don’t have to be so mean to me,” he mutters out, “Why don’t I drive if you can’t be a decent person?” It’s condescending in a way that he knows Joel will get a rise out of it.
“Nope, I'm driving. You’re bad at it.”
“You’re still saying I’m bad at it after I complimented you?” He moves his face closer to take a good look at Joel, one thing he knows about him is that he’s not used to genuine compliments.
“Yes, I am” he mutters, less confident and annoying now. Scott can see a light blush on his face.
“Oh really?”
“Scott, will you please shut up.” He twists his head to stare at him, their faces close to each other. They can feel each other's breath and they stare deep into each other's eyes. They don’t move though, they should but they don’t move.
“I don’t want to.” His whisper is soft and cheeky like he’s daring Joel to kiss him or push him away or get a reaction out of him.
It works somehow. Joel moves closer to kiss him. It’s soft and gentle, not at all what Scott expected, like he’s waiting for Scott to guide him through into what he wants.
Scott returns the same energy and they kiss each other softly and gently like they’re not mortal enemies. The car continues driving as they kiss. It’s rather unsafe but they’re alone on a straight road they’ll be fine.
At least that’s what they think until they feel a large bump under the car. They immediately stop kissing, panic overcoming them both. Joel parks the car and runs over to the thing.
It’s definitely a person who's dead. Scott runs over with a flashlight in hand as Joel starts CPR. The person has blonde brownish hair and is wearing a red sweater. “Wait Joel stop. I think this is Grian?”
He moves his flashlight and opens the person's eyelids to see the void. They both stumble away and stare at Grian’s lifeless body. “At least we killed him.” Scott says trying to raise their spirits but they’re both pretty disgusted that they killed Grian because they were busy kissing.
“It was surprisingly anticlimactic.”
“Yeah.”
“We should go bury the body.”
“Yeah.”