Chapter Text
fWhip was alone in the cave.
Again.
He really had to stop being alone, it was starting to become a more regular problem. You’d think that since there were new people on the server who needed so many things all the time, he’d never be alone. But here he was again.
Joel was off somewhere with Grian, probably going to pick up Sausage on their way for a very epic prank on the sheriff, his ChatBox had been going crazy with them trying to find a time and place to meet up. Although it had gone silent when the sheriff in question had asked what was going on.
Tango had left him several hours ago, claiming to go visit Shubble’s potion shop for some reason or another. But he’d gone in the direction of Chromia. Or Stratos. Or Critter City. They were all in the same general area or whatever. It didn’t matter.
What mattered was that he was alone again.
All the other goblins were away at their work, carving out new tunnels or making new contraptions or creating new things to trade or whatever. And he was away from it all, stuck in the back of his private cave near his pathetic little skelly farm. He was hiding from everyone and all the stuff he had to worry about and just the whole world really. No, that wasn’t really it either. fWhip would have welcomed something to worry about other than a certain someone, he just wanted something to do.
What he was really hiding from was the memories.
That’s what he got for hanging around the protector of Sanctuary for too long. He knew the risk when he signed up for it, Sausage had too much untamed magic and goblins were sensitive to it. That’s how they knew where to dig and how far to go, how to make themselves useful and wanted. Sausage never bothered to tame his magic like the others did, didn’t ever learn to keep it under wraps. And fWhip was feeling the aftereffects.
Sausage had visions. Everyone knew that. But he never knew what they were about, if they were the present in a different reality or the past or the future or who was in them or anything. fWhip was having the same problem, only it was more concentrated on a single person. The person who was now likely being tormented by two gods and an over-caffeinated idiot.
That stupid stupid sheriff cave.
He’d done something there, that had to explain it. Building that shrine to the sheriff and his laws and his stupid little toys had tied him to the man, toy, thing. Like what Sausage had done with his Santa Pearla. Who turned out to be a crazy cleaning lady. Granted, she did have a very nice dress. But that was beside the point.
It had to be the cave that tied him to Jimmy, there was no other reason. The sheriff didn’t have any super special magic about him or whatever for fWhip to pick up on, there was no reason for him to be so concerned about Jimmy at all. When he stayed in Glimmer Grove for a few days, half his hair hadn’t grown for weeks. And when Gem let him stay in Dawn for a week, he came back shedding pollen and glowing. Now his visions from Sausage and the gold and height growth from Joel, it was normal for him to pick up magic from his friends.
But all of it was temporary.
This stupid Jimmy thing seemed to stick around.
fWhip let out a sigh and closed his eyes, letting his head drop against the walls holding the skeletons in like his head was coated in obsidian. It hurt but he wasn’t going to think about it, he couldn’t think about it really. It felt more like a curse than anything, some kind of infection in his head that wouldn’t stop screaming at him.
Energy. Light. An image popped in his head and he wanted to scream.
Another vision. Another godda-
No. No. No. No.
He had control. He would see the vision all the way through and go back to sulking. This wouldn’t be like when he got one in the middle of the street and passed out, almost getting run over by a cart. Nope. That wouldn’t be happening again. He took a deep breath, focusing on the air filling his lungs before pushing it out, opening his eyes and watching the scene unfold.
It was Jimmy. Obviously. He was standing at step up to the skeleton spawner, slicing at their legs as they fell and talking to the camera attached to the top of his hat. A pit was slowly forming in the bottom of fWhip’s stomach, he knew this moment. He’d seen the clips of that stream that Scott had shown him. That was the day Jimmy didn’t want to be alone, he didn’t really have anything to do, so he turned on his camera and talked to himself for like three hours. fWhip hadn’t tapped into that stream, but he assumed that Pix and Scott did since they were the ones who showed the clips to everyone else.
And there. Right on cue. Scott showed up at the edge of his vision, sneaking up on Jimmy in a rather good impression of a toy. Or rather, a certain cowgirl that matched with Jimmy’s whole aesthetic. He was committed to the bit, as always. fWhip had seen Scott’s impersonations before and they were always accurate to the smallest detail. His version of Gem and Katherine had been hilarious to see when they’d all gone for drinks at Sausage’s tavern. Scott had even pulled mimics of their skirts out of nowhere and paraded around in them for the rest of the night while the rest of them were dying of laughter.
And now his annoyingly amazing costume was setting Jimmy off. Scott’s mouth was moving but he couldn’t hear anything. He didn’t need to hear anything, he knew what Scott was saying. The words had been playing in the back of his mind since he stepped into this godforsaken cave. He had to get out before the vision got sharper and he could actually hear Scott’s voice, not just see his stupid lips move.
fWhip slammed his hand down on a button and stumbled into the tunnel as the hidden door slid open. As soon as he was out of the room where the vision had taken place, the image cleared from his eyes. Although it would be forever burned into his mind, at least it was out of his eyes now. The goblin put one hand on the wall to steady himself and instantly regretted it, air leaving his lungs as
Energy. Light. An image popped in his head and he wanted to cry.
It wasn’t a full vision, but a memory that was on loop. He was digging the tunnel to Tumble Town. His pack that contained his inventory was filled with stone and cobblestone, his pick nearly broken as he dug through the ground, determined to reach the unsteady sands of the mesa. There was a need to connect him to the sheriff, to be within safe distance, to be able to be called back without having to travel so far. He had no iron left for rails or minecarts but that didn’t matter, he could get some from False later. All that mattered was that he dug the tunnel.
And then he was back. Back in his own body with his pick mended and inventory clear of stone. Back in the tunnel he dug as an emergency escape back to his home. Not digging the tunnel to the cursed town. Not going back to the sheriff.
He was on the ground, claws digging into his skin in a futile attempt to keep himself grounded, out of his head, away from the visions. Obviously it hadn’t worked. So he unclenched his claws and stayed on the ground for a few moments, letting himself calm down and catch his breath. Once he was at least 60% sure that he could stand, he tried.
fWhip sprinted down the tunnel as soon as his feet were under him, trying to keep from touching the sides of the tunnel. It was just like when he was running from mobs after he stole the sheriff hat. Jimmy was distracted and he hadn’t noticed until fWhip was down in the tunnel and had almost gotten away with it if it weren’t for those meddling mobs. No. Nope. No. He stopped that train of thought before it left the station. He wasn’t going to put himself through another vision.
And yet another one hit him like an inventory full of deepslate.
He’d managed to reach his house, get inside, and drop his backpack on the floor before another one hit him. The trigger this time had been an anvil.
Energy. Light. An image popped in his head and he wanted to disappear.
Dropping to the ground again, fWhip could suddenly feel the warmth of the sun on his skin. That wasn’t possible, he was in his house. His house in a cave. Underground. That shouldn’t have been possible. But it was unmistakable. The feeling of warmth spreading across his skin and seeping into every part of him, it was nice in small doses. Opening his eyes showed the set of the scene, the blacksmith of Tumble Town before Jimmy had burned it down by accident.
Jimmy was standing at the anvil in front of the fire, hammering at something that fWhip wasn’t really focused on. He was really looking at Jimmy. The sleeves of his blue shirt were rolled up almost to his shoulders and his brown jacket thing that fWhip made fun of so often was hanging on the wall, next to several other pieces of Jimmy’s usual outfit. His messy hair was pushed out of his face, save for a few rebellious strands, and his hat was on the table behind him.
The sound of the hammer striking metal slowly faded into existence in fWhip’s ears and he could hear Jimmy talking about something or other. Telling him about how he found a magic hat in a chest that told him where to settle, how to get his people out of their old home, how they wanted him in charge. Asking him to grab him some water, to stoke the fire, to hand him that one hammer that was hanging just out of fWhip’s reach.
They worked together like cogs in a machine, in tandem and never crossing over each other. fWhip let Jimmy talk and talked back with him, sitting at a small table that Jimmy had gotten someone to make him so he could gawk at the newly appointed sheriff and work on his jewelry at the same time. Jimmy talked and asked and worked on his own project, something that was turning out to be a metal star. He was much more delicate with it than the horseshoes or nails he usually made and fWhip was in awe of how beautiful it came out.
Jimmy wanted him to decorate it, put little gems and sparkly stones on it, maybe engrave it with the sheriff title on it. He said that he wasn’t good at the details and he had to make a deputy badge anyways, if fWhip could help him out with that it would mean a lot. And fWhip happily agreed, even knowing that this was just a bittersweet memory and it would end eventually. Hours flew by like minutes as he worked on the badge, first the sheriff and then the deputy ones.
He was aware of Jimmy standing over his shoulder, mouth slack in amazement as he watched fWhip work on the details and decorations of the two badges. Aware of the pang of something he couldn’t put a name to, something like guiltregretlonelinesslongingdesperation, when Jimmy held out one of the deputy badges to him
“You’re pretty good at that partner. I think you’d make a pretty good deputy, if you want of course.”
And then fWhip was back in his house, on his floor, sobbing and trying not to remember.
The visions were getting stronger, more frequent. That had to mean they were almost done, right?