Prison of the dead (Labyrinth of Monsters' sequel) A hermitcraft/3rd life fanfic

Chapter 3 - Cub

I don't know why I volunteered. 

I just did. 

I knew I had to talk to him, figure everything out about Scar and Skizz's deaths. 

Scar. 

He's not here. 

I'm crying inside at the realisation that I won't see him again. But I keep it inside. Like he wanted me to. 

The apparent leader of this place at me, suspicious about why I wanted to go. But he nods, and allows it. Impulse looks horrified. I don't blame him. I did help kill his brother. As the preparation meeting draws closed, I think about what I'm going to say, and walk off on my own when we're dismissed. Impulse joins me as I begin gathering wood, making sticks and wooden tools. I hand one to him. He doesn't thank me. We work gathering logs in silence, until he speaks. 

'I know you want to talk about your friend.' 

I'm not ready for the bluntness of the question. He doesn't even know Scar's name, but we both know he's talking about him. 

'Scar. His name is Scar. And... I guess you're right.'

'You guess?' Impulse judges my answer. 'What do you mean you guess?'

'I just wanted to clear things up between us. You obviously hate me, and I should probably hate you for killing Scar. But I want to get past our problems. So...'

'You helped kill my brother.' He says, like it's all that matters. I sigh. 

'Yes. I did. And I'm sorry.'

'Sorry won't bring him back!' Impulse snaps. 'He was the most important person in my life! And you caused his death!'

'You killed Scar.' I reply, trying to stay calm. 

'Scar deserved it!'

I drop my axe, hands clenched. I feel the all-too-familiar magic rise within me, but force it down.

'What did he do to you?'

'He also helped kill Skizz!'

It's terrifyingly hard to stop myself from picking up the axe and killing him. This jerk is talking like Scar's death was somehow right. Like Impulse murdering him in cold blood, right in front of me, was just punishment for a death he didn't even cause. I bite back my fury, replying simply with the cold truth.

'We weren't going to kill you.'

'What?!'

'We weren't going to kill you. We were going to get you to join our side. Help us. Become allies. We're not the bad guys!'

'Likely story!' Impulse swings his already-destroyed axe hard against the tree. It breaks, and he swears loudly. 

'It's the truth!'

'I don't believe anything you say. Skizz's death was your fault, whether you like it or not.'

'Fine! And then you avenged him by killing Etho and Scar. We're equal here. We ended up getting Skizz killed, and then you killed Scar. If you won't get over his death, then I'm not going to force you to. But I don't want to be your enemy.'

'Why?'

'Because I don't like having enemies. And because we don't have to be if you just accept that Skizz is dead, and move on.'

'No! He was my brother!'

'He's dead. And you can't bring him back. Would he want you to be moping around?' 

'Shut up! I don't want to talk about this! At least give me some time to think. And don't tell me to stop moping when you know you moped around after Scar's death.'

'No, I didn't. I cried a bit, and buried his body, and then I got back to normal. Why? Because that's what he would want. And I forgive you for killing him. And he would as well.'  

'F*** off.'

Despite knowing that it would be much wiser not to, I pursue the conversation. 

'Impulse, come on. You'll have to get over it at some point.'

'And what if I don't?' He shoots back. 'What if I can't get over it? What if I wake up, screaming, every morning after watching him die. Knowing I could've saved him if I wasn't so F*****G stupid. If I wasn't such a complete F*****G coward and had actually helped him get up, and get up both to safety. I thought if... if I avenged his death, it would make it up to him. For what I did.' He's crying now. Actually crying. I let go of my slowly building frustration as Impulse slides to the ground next to a tree, head in his hands, and cries. A moment later, I sit down next to him, trying to think of something I can say to comfort him. 

'If I was Skizz, I would've forgiven you.' It's the best thing I can come up with. 'It's not your fault we were there. You said your names, and something made us mad. Every time. And there's no logical explanation why. We hear your names, and we attack. That's why he died. That's why they all died. False, Jimmy, Skizz... there was no way of fighting it. I'm sorry. You deserve to be upset at me. You deserve to get some kind of revenge.' 

I take a knife from the pocket of my lab coat, and place it next to Impulse. 

'If you want, you can kill me. Here. Now. I won't complain or fight back. If you feel happier by killing me, you can.'

Impulse looks up at me, eyes red with tears. He doesn't seem to be angry any more, which I guess is better. He picks up the knife, and throws it away. It sticks into the ground, and we both stare at it for a moment. 

'So... you forgive me?'

'I guess.' Is Impulse's reply. I know it's the best I'm going to get from him, so I smile. 

'Should we head back to the others?'

'Yeah.' I realise that this is the first time we've ever agreed on anything as we stand up, gathering all the wood we've gathered and walking back to where the rest of the group was, slightly closer to being friends.