Seconds, Centuries, and Stories

Hurt - InthelittleWood and SoTotallyToby NON-SHIP

A.N - In this fan-fiction Toby is only a year younger than Martyn.

It is based after the first Yogscast Survival Games in which Martyn killed Toby so that he could be the champion and within the Yogscast Tekkit Server.

On the subject of the Survival Games, within Yogscast fanfiction it is widely accepted that Ridge is a psycho demi-god who creates the Games for fun and forces the Yogscast to play. I am using this idea as the mental trauma of watching your loved ones be killed and having to kill them yourself would be long lasting and might cause serious rifts in the relationships of many members of the Yogscast.

This is my idea of what might of happened when Martyn and Toby re-spawned back at IntheLittleCorp after the aforementioned Survival Games.

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Toby sat staring at the inside of his tent for days. Nothing could move him; not Martyn begging him to eat something, to say something, not anything. He sat in silence, a dead look in his eyes. The Sapling Prince was losing hope; he wasn't able to save his best friend and he was slowly dying on the inside, shoving the entire forest towards an early autumn in the middle of July. Without Toby he was empty of purpose, there was nothing he could do. He'd tried visiting Strippin and Benji but after half an hour of walking in what he thought was their direction, he ended up back at Toby's side. He felt like a part of him was missing. Every so often he would turn around to tell Toby something, before suffering the horrible feeling of remembering all over again that he wasn't there. Martyn needed Toby. It had gotten to the point where he had taken to sitting at Toby's bedside, waiting for him to say something; please, just anything.

And then at last, Toby spoke. Martyn froze in shock, unable to compute the low mutter from his friend's lips.

"What?" He stuttered.

"I don't want to fight anymore.

Martyn broke, crying softly, "We don't have to fight anymore Toby. We're home, the Games are over.

And Toby started crying too. After five minutes of silent tears, he started murmuring, "So many people... We lost so many people... They were innocent. They were all innocent."

Martyn moved beside Toby on the bed and gave him a hug, but Toby didn't move. "We didn't lose anyone, we all re-spawned. We're all okay Toby. We're all home." He said soothingly, but Toby shook his head.

"No, no, no." He repeated, "Not everyone that went in came back out again."

Martyn frowned and moved back, "What do you mean?"

The tears still flowed steadily down Toby's face. "No-one comes out of the Games unscathed. And some don't come out at all. I lost my best friend to those games.

Martyn began to panic, "Toby what are you talking about? I'm right here."

Slowly Toby turned round to face him, shaking his head. "You're not the Martyn who went in. The one I cherished as my best friend. The Martyn I knew wouldn't have killed me so that he could win. You are not my best friend."

Martyn went still in anguish, he wanted to protest, but he couldn't. It was true. Martyn wasn't the same. He was no longer pure of heart. He couldn't pick up the Sapling Sword. He was no longer the Sapling Prince. But most importantly, he was not Toby's best friend.

So when Toby stood up and left the tent, he didn't move and as he felt Toby leave the forest he only cried more. His life was as good as over.

-Six Years Later-

As Toby neared the edge of the forest he halted. It was an intimidating place, completely covered in snow and ice and completely still. There was no sign of life, no shuffling of feet or rustling of branches. Clouds were said to be always blotting out the sun here and indeed the charcoal grey masses seemed to loom in an angry formation taking its emotions out on the land bellow. No-one would dare come within five miles of the forest anymore, they valued their lives far above anything it could offer.