Chapter Text
Tango stands before the ruins of their ranch, eyes blazing red and teeth bared. He snarls, a heavy and guttural sound. The players around them back up a step or two, someone gasps, Etho tugs Joel to leave and the two of them set off.
His body thrums with a new energy, one he hasn't felt yet this season, and it's not usually like this either from the previous ones. He's angry, yes, but he's also absolutely enraged. Flames lick along his arms and on his head, white hot and bright. His home, that he'd built for Jimmy and himself, to feel safe in, now gone. Burnt up in a fire not of his own creation. A fire instead brought to a life of destruction by Scar.
Jimmy walks up close, cautious but still worried, "Tango? Tango snap out of it."
Tango lets out another growl, eyes snapping from where their ranch once stood to across the river in the distance, where Scar's living with Grian. His ears feel hot and his hands are tensed, sharp nails digging into flesh. He has got to find Scar, he needs to find Scar, and show him what it means to mess with a creature of the netherrealm. To mess with one and his soulmate. He yells out in rage and starts for the wooden stucture.
"Tango!"
He turns to Jimmy, the others have left them now. He looks him in the eyes.
They're red.
Red as red can get when you're on your last life.
Tango suddenly lets out a sob, fire swiftly receding, only small wisps flicker away at the tips of his hair. He falls onto Jimmy, causing him to stagger back a bit from Tango's sudden weight and change of mood, but pulls him close nevertheless.
"I'm sorry," he lets out between heaving breaths, "I'm so sorry I couldn't save us, I'm so sorry." He grips on tight to Jimmy's shirt, claws digging into the fabric but still careful not to hurt even when in emotional distress. His hides his face in Jimmy's shoulder. He doesn't want to let Jimmy out of his grip.
"It's okay, it's okay," Jimmy holds Tango tight, crandles a hand on the back of his head. "We can rebuild."
Tango isn't worried about the rebuilding.
"It's not okay. I'm sorry couldn't save you from dying," Tango says, looking up now at Jimmy, his vision swimming from his tears. A pain spikes in his chest at the look he's receiving, at a caring look where he expected anger, distaste, or even at least a frown or look of fear.
"Don't put the blame on yourself, Tango, it wasn't your fault, Scar did this out of his own choice," he presses his lips to Tango's forehead and keeps them there. He doesn't do anything to push the other away.
Tango closes his eyes and lets a shuddering breath out, hands relaxing but still staying on Jimmy's back. He doesn't feel like he deserves this kind of love for what he's done, for dying first and bringing Jimmy down, and then bringing him down further with the fires that ate at their ranch.
"But I could have stopped him, if I hadn't listened to Cleo, if I hadn't taken us to see Scar," Tango states, "if you hadn't been paired with me."
"Tango," Jimmy says mournfully, "Don't say that, you know how lucky I feel to be paired with you. You are amazing, and you do everything you can, everyday for us. Don't blame yourself."
"I could have-"
"No, stop, look at me. You are amazing, don't you forget that,"
Some of the remaining charred wood around the pair groans and Tango can already feel his shoulder sag, the energy from just before no longer flowing within him. The two embrace one another in the remains of the ranch. Jimmy turns his head to the side and gently strokes his thumb along Tango's cheek, brushing away tears. A stray cow steps over, sniffing at the two of them, before laying down against their legs. For Tango, the ranch feels like a reflection of how he feels, tired and hurting.
The moon shines overhead, half shaded and oh so small and far away.
"I swear, Jimmy, over my red life," Tango squeezes him, "that I will not let him go without punishment."
A rumble echos from far, far down below the ground.
"That sounds alright to me, Tango. Now come on, we should get into bed," Jimmy murmurs, his hand sliding down to his lower back.
The two of them make their way to their bed, albeit the blanket and pillow are covered in ash, the bed is still in one piece. They snuggle up together, in one anothers embrace with limbs tangled.
Their ranch may be in pieces and they might be on red life, but at least they have each other. Scar, on the other hand, well, Tango knows what Grian's been doing behind his soulbounds' back, and he knows Scar will be wishing he hadn't done what he did today.