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The first time, Pearl had partially been expecting it.
After weeks of trying and more than a little luck, the spell worked. Finally, she had found the right ratio of ingredients, had channeled the right amount of power, and now Scott's corpse was floating in the air, ready to come back to life at long last. Pearl watched in awe as the muscles knit themselves together, how his skin went from deathly pale to a healthy pink, and his body relaxed and bloated as his internal organs reconstructed themselves. The beauty of reanimation almost outweighed the horror.
Even the magic faded and Scott was set back down on the ground, he didn't move for a while. He laid there, eyes fluttering, chest rising and falling as he took breaths stolen from death itself.
Pearl leaned over him. She wanted him to open his eyes, so she could see the fruits of her labor, even though she was nervous about him seeing her again. For a second she was afraid he might not even recognize her, since her body had been through a lot since his untimely death, but of course he would!
She was proud of her scars, and wore them like badges of honor. The burns from the blaze powder, the frostbite from finding the ancient library, they were testaments to how far she was willing to go for Scott. The only scar she detested was the one over her eye. It was why she barely used a mirror anymore.
Slowly, finally, Scott opened his eyes. And oh, there was life behind them. Pearl could cry. However, his expression wasn't overjoyed, or confused, or surprised. It was more pained. Shocked. He had just been stolen from death's clutches and felt his body rebuild itself. She supposed a little bit of trauma was understandable. Pearl tried to shrug it off. He would recover eventually, and she would be there every step of the way.
Weeks had gone on, and Scott didn't seem to be getting better. No matter what she tried, he couldn't seem to get out of bed, to show any interest in her or anything around him. It was frustrating, for him to be so close to her yet so distant. She had started to get angry, to yell at him to get up, but he didn't react to that either.
Eventually, when they were in bed together, she whispered to him as she did every night: "What can I do for you?"
And Scott turned to her, looked right at her, and spoke his first words since his resurrection: "Please. Just let me die."
That was when Pearl knew she lost him.
But no. She couldn't lose him. He was here in the land of the living. There had to be a way around this, to make him want to live again. Perhaps if he didn't remember being revived, he might go back to being the exuberant Scott she knew he was, right?
Pearl researched for days, searching for memory spells that would work. And eventually she settled on one. It was reversible if things went awry. When they went to bed, she cast it quietly, and she swore she felt his body tense, then relax. Yeah, a little memory wipe was going to do him good.
When Scott woke up, Pearl had already gotten him tea.
She found him on the ground. Clearly, he had been trying to go somewhere, but his body wasn't used to movement. A good sign, it meant he had somewhere he wanted to be. Carefully, Pearl hoisted him back onto the bed.
"What happened to me? Why am I back?" He whispered, then took a look at Pearl. "What happened to you?"
Pearl knew she was a far cry from the woman he had met all those years ago, but it still hurt that he looked at her with a calculating eye, like he was trying to piece together what he had missed. Though it hurt more that he had missed anything at all.
"You died," Pearl said. "You died, and I brought you back. Now come on, let's have breakfast."
This Scott was skittish. He had quickly got back onto his feet, and seemed determined to be as far away from Pearl as possible. A pity. She had brought him back so she could see him, not so he could cram himself into some far off corner. At least he wasn't trying to make a run for it. The exits were magically sealed, and Scott seemed to know that she had thought of every precaution.
On the rare times she did see him, he would look at her with fear mixed with a tiny kernel of hatred. She didn't understand what she had done wrong. All this effort, all these sacrifices, and he still refused to see her for what she really was?
Clearly, remembering how he died wasn't helping him at all. So that night, when she found him sleeping in the attic, she did another memory spell. A stronger one. He wouldn't remember anything after his death, and he would lose all recollection of that night in the woods. The fear, the pain, the anger, all of it gone in the blink of an eye. Pearl wished she could do the same to herself, but she knew that if she wasn't aware of the past, it might repeat itself. And she didn't want that.
She carried Scott off to bed. They both deserved a long nap.
This Scott did not hide from Pearl.
She had been completely honest with him when she told him why he didn't remember coming back. The traumatic memories were blocked from him for his own good, because they were causing him such great distress that he no longer wanted to live. Scott had no trouble swallowing the truth.
However, he would ask her a lot of questions. How did he die? Where had she preserved his corpse? She didn't really want to answer those sorts of questions, and thankfully Scott didn't push, and instead asked about her. Why had she stayed in this home? What adventures had she gone on? Pearl was more than happy to tell him about her adventures with a kraken, or how she had stolen a bit of dragon egg yolk, and he seemed more than happy to listen.
This Scott was almost back to how he was before dying. Observant, cautious, competent. However, he lacked the energy she remembered from him. He didn't speak until she started the conversation, and did what she asked him to do, no more, no less. Pearl was fine with helping him recover, but having to handle the emotional burdens in this relationship was getting exhausting. Overall though, she thought it was going well.
Until she found the stash.
This Scott had been hiding things from her under his sewing supplies. Dried food. Water. Small, sharp tools. Pearl knew what that meant. He was planning to leave, and soon. He had just been kind to her so she wouldn't suspect anything. Pearl remembered that she hadn't explained to him that the house was magically sealed. She wasn't mad at him, more disappointed. This was the place he had hidden his supplies before he died, too. As much as she would have loved for him to improve, she also appreciated the predictability.
So instead of yelling at him, or destroying the stash, she made him dinner. Scott ate it, because at the end of the day, some part of him still trusted her. Or maybe because it was too polite to refuse. It was only when he felt the sleeping drugs kick in did he realize.
Pearl held him as he went to sleep. "It's going to be okay. We're going to make this work next time, you hear me?"
Scott let out a weak laugh. "Let me rest already. Let us rest."
Pearl felt her vision go red as she ripped into Scott's brain harder than ever before.
And now here she was. In bed, reading, with her soulmate tucked at her side.
Well, she wasn't really reading. She was pretty sure she had grabbed an encyclopedia on accident. Rather, she was checking in on Scott and making sure he was okay, though this Scott had yet to cause her concern.
He was docile. Pearl hadn't meant to erase as much of him as she did, but to be honest, it was sort of nice. No more fear. No more anger. Just the two of them, like they were always meant to be. Scott wasn't trying to run or hide, which was a relief, because it meant if he needed a reset it wouldn't be rushed. The memory spells were getting excessive, she wasn't sure how many times she could mold Scott until she damaged him irreparably.
"Is the temperature alright?" Pearl asked Scott.
"Mhm," He replied. Scott had barely noticed her gaze on him, which unnerved her. Before his death, he seemed to be constantly on alert, even after the days of fear and threats were long over. Now, he was relaxed. At her mercy, and completely content with that.
It was her happy ending. Pearl should be happy.
But she wasn't.
She didn't understand herself. Was this not what she had wanted? But no. The creature sitting next to her gazing up at her with kind, vacant eyes was not her Scott. For a moment his body heat felt putrid, disgusting, an effigy of her soulmate rather than the man himself.
Scott should be fighting back. It was what made him Scott! But Pearl didn't want him to leave her, either.
There had to be a way to find the balance. She would get it eventually. But she knew that the Scott in front of her would never be enough.
Pearl scooched to the side so Scott was forced to sit up, propping himself against the pillows and looking at her in pleasant confusion. "Do you want to be here, Scott?"
"Of course." Scott said, face slightly surprised like he couldn't believe she would ask such an absurd question. "You're here, after all." And Pearl knew he meant it. She looked at the dressing room table mirror. The scar on her eye crinkled as her eyes narrowed, trying to recognize herself in her reflection.
Pearl waved her hands, and the memory spell lifted.
Scott choked, shook, and then finally looked up at her. For once, he possessed all his memories. From five minutes ago, to all the resets, to his death in the woods.
There was silence for a moment. Then he snarled and lunged at her, pinning her to the mattress. Pearl didn't fight back. "You are a monster." Scott snarled.
Pearl looked up at him. She wasn't afraid. With all her newfound magic, it would be so easy for her to lift him off of her like he was a misbehaving cat. She was in full control, and Scott seemed to realize that, as the light left his eyes and the despair set in.
She remembered that look. It was the look Scott gave seconds before he died, when he raked the knife across her face and she instinctively pushed him off of that cliff.
Pearl was done giving. She had lost her body, her eye, her identity for Scott. Now, it was time for her to take.
She waved her hands again and Scott collapsed like a marionette with its stings cut. He was fully asleep, a blank slate of a person. Ready for Pearl to begin rewriting.
Pearl put her book on her nightstand and turned off the lights. She would need a good night's rest for the work she was going to do in the morning.
Maybe it would help her get it right this time.