Chapter Text
Chapter Eight
The Sweetness and the Sorrow
Hm.
So, I have the feeling you might have questions about that.
To start, I'm not really sure how it happened myself. It's a bit hard to describe, really. I mean, I was, and then, I wasn't. Or, never was? I never existed, but before that, I did exist. And I'm the only one that doesn't exist who did exist previously.
If that hurts your head to wrap around, imagine how I feel.
Yeah, that's what I thought.
I don't know why it was me in particular who was singled out. I think maybe I just got unlucky. I mean, most people were saved, as unlikely as it was. Surely someone couldn't be, and it just so happened to be me. Was I special? Maybe, I don't know. I never existed, so I couldn't really say.
Maybe I was old, in a retirement home and waiting for death. Or, maybe I was a teenager, skipping a class. I could've been a baby! Or I could've had a 9-5 job, at a call center, or tending a storefront. Maybe I was a girl, maybe I was a boy, maybe I was something else. Maybe I was a scientist, working on a cure for cancer! Or maybe I was training to be an astronaut. Maybe I actually was a Historian. I couldn't say.
Sometimes I wonder, how did it happen, even? Most people have parents, I think, so what were mine like? Did they just not meet in this timeline? Or, was I stillborn? Did they not want a child? Could I have been a sperm donor baby, and there wasn't… uh… enough?
Once again. Idunno. I mean, don't even have a name. That's why I call myself the Historian, y'see? I can see everything from here. So I'm telling you about it. I'm keeping a record of before.
It's just me and this nameless little coffee shop that also didn't make it against the world, eh?
Speaking of which, sigh, I should get another cup, shouldn't I? It's tiring work, cataloging everything they do. But I do need a hobby, methinks, and this is a pretty good one. Otherwise, I'll start looking at how my reflection is never consistent, because I was never born, and thus never had a face.
What a fun and horrifying world we live in!
But, well.
This story's not about me.
Ah, I've gotten off track again, talking about myself. I'm not part of the story. I was affected by it, sure, but well, the Edwardsville gang didn't know me. Or maybe they did. Who knows! Not me, not me. To my knowledge, I wasn't that important in this tale. And I'm still not.
So, where were we again?
Not everyone forgot the world that was before. Strange, how it works like that. The world beforehand never existed, temporally speaking. And yet…
Here, let me show you what I mean.
A bit outside of Edwardsville, not all that far to the east, but enough so that it had a new zip code, a young woman in a space hoodie set down her phone. I'm not quite sure when the last time we spoke about her was. At least, in person. She's on her phone all the time, at least.
*Star* (Artemis) - 9:01 PM: yea i'm sorry
*Star* (Artemis) - 9:01 PM: it's just rlly short notice and i gotta stay here at the planetarm
*Star* (Artemis) - 9:01 PM: planetrum
*Star* (Artemis) - 9:02 PM: planetarririumn
Artemis Vega squinted at her phone, before silently sighing, and trying again.
*Star* (Artemis) - 9:02 PM: space land
Sometimes she thinks she's relegated to the sound booth less because she's mute, and more because she can't spell. Most people think she just doesn't talk much, after all.
She typed out a few more messages before setting her phone down, continuing to fiddle with the wires of her booth. Regardless, it continued to buzz and buzz, and she occasionally picked it up to respond to her friends.
Rainy Springtime (March) - 9:03 PM: What do you want while we're up there i'll make sure to get it for you
*Star* (Artemis) - 9:03 PM: in the whole city you want me to pick one thing
THE DESTROYER OF WORLDS! (Vivian) - 9:03 PM: and we will bring it to you!
*Star* (Artemis) - 9:04 PM: well that's a tough one
*Star* (Artemis) - 9:04 PM: you'll have to get back to me on that
She adjusted a few dials and set her phone down.
Artemis could still hardly believe it.
Not that she didn't believe in March. She and Vivian poked fun at them all the time, sure, but they were still a talented writer at heart, Arty felt. It was just, such a big opportunity rarely felt like the type of thing any of them would see in their lifetimes. Opportunity ran dry in Edwardsville. And now, March and Vivi were going to Paris?
That was just really cool. Good for them.
Her phone continued to buzz, but for a second, she ignored it, just focusing on her sound booth. The planetarium was closed at the moment; being a school night and all, parents didn't tend to bring their kids in this late. But during last Saturday's big show, she noticed her father's voice just sounded a bit odd on the speakers, and that their background music was exceptionally out of tune.
And Arty really didn't want them to shell out for new speakers. Upkeep was already expensive as it was. Their "Wonders of the Cosmos" show brought in a lot of money, sure, but not that much money.
*Bzzt!*
She reconnected the wires, and bit her lip. Gosh, she hoped this was an easy fix…
*Bzzt! Bzzt!*
Artemis glanced at her phone again, noticing the slightly different buzz tone. Picking it up, she frowned, slightly.
Dad - 9:07 PM: Arty? You're not still at the planetarium, are you sweetie?
She paused for a second, before firing off a response.
9:07 PM: just finishing with the speakers rq
To his credit, he didn't take long to respond, but it did bug her slightly that she had to set down the wire she was threading. She was so close, c'mon!
Dad - 9:08 PM: Well, be home soon. I'm making malasadas for dinner.
9:08 PM: for dinner? rlly?
Dad - 9:08 PM: It's been a long week, and this is your mother's favorite.
9:08: long cuz of the speakers?
Dad - 9:08 PM: Partially.
She shrugged. Another buzz on her phone from her friends, and she shot out another quick response, before setting her phone aside.
And just sliding it alllllllll the way over there. Good.
Now, she could focus.
There was a bit of a lull as she fiddled for a few minutes. She'd been trying to do this for a few days now, but this was the first time since Saturday that she had a gap in her schedule. Saturday was their big "Wonders of the Cosmos" show. Sunday was the only day that she ever had to herself, and she refused to let that go to waste. Monday was a lot of errands, like driving her brother Soliel to and from high school in Edwardsville. They got along, sure, but given how early she had to wake up for that, she couldn't wait until the day he could drive himself everywhere.
She still had to do that today, sure, but she had decided she'd procrastinated on it for long enough. Oh well. At the very least, Leah had shared those "Pokemon" drawings earlier today, so that brightened her mood. She didn't think she'd met the woman before, but the creatures she made for her and the rest of her family were super neat. Leah didn't even have to do that for her. She just said that her ideas were "really interesting" and insisted on doing the full set of four.
Arty hoped that woman got her scholarships. That was some quick work for something so pretty. She even made the one made for her the lockscreen on her phone.
…
*Zzz!*
A pop of electricity caused Artemis to flinch, slightly, as she plugged the speakers back in. That should've done it, she thought. This was her fourth… no, her fifth attempt to reconfigure the speaker systems. If this didn't work, then… she just gave up.
Quickly, as she did routinely on their big show nights, she connected the speakers to her sound booth. The quality had been all crackly and warbly recently, so she pulled up a simple test audio on the main computer, to see if it still was.
Sample Tone: 1k Hertz Sine Wave
If the sound was consistent, then she would just go to bed. Or, actually, she'd probably grab some malasadas. Weird choice for dinner, but she digressed.
She switched it on.
…EEEEEEEE…
Artemis grimaced slightly at the tone. It felt almost like ringing in her ears. She felt like she was getting a migraine just by listening to it, but…
The sound was clear, at least?
Oh, finally. Thank goodness.
With another silent sigh of relief, she went to switch the sound off—
A wave of vertigo hit her, all of a sudden, and she struggled to gasp for air as she fell back in her chair. Turning shifting burning convex concave—
And it stopped.
…
…
…uh…
…OK?
…EEEEEEE.
She switched the tone off, rubbing her temples. Goodness, what a migraine that came and went, all of a sudden. Was it the test tone that did that, or was she just tired? It couldn't have been that late out, but she guessed that she did have to wake up early that morning for Soleil. Maybe she just had to go to bed. And eat something.
…oh yeah. She forgot to eat again today. Go figure.
Well. Malasadas it was, then. The speakers had been repaired, so she could probably just drive home. Now, where did she put her phone…?
She reached for it on her left. Idly, she checked it for notifications (nothing special, besides her friends chatting about their special trip), then slipped it in her pocket, before looking back u—
—uhhhhhhhhhhhhh…
…
…she blinked.
She found herself, suddenly, at eye level with a rock.
Not just a random rock, though. In front of her, instead, was a crescent shaped rock with a beak, magically floating in front of her face, silently staring back at her. It blinked back, with two red eyes on either side of its surface.
…
…in a bit of a delayed reaction, Artemis fell backwards out of her rolling chair, crashing onto the floor below with a rather large
BANG!
Rolling on the floor with a clatter, she quickly sat up and scootched away from the creature until her back was up against the desk. With wide eyes and her mouth in a line, she glanced up at the rock creature… thing.
(?)
Until a hair fell in front of her face.
(?.)
Oh, her headband!
Glancing around with shifty eyes, not exactly wanting to take her eyes off the magical stone shaped like the moon that had just appeared in her sound booth, she spotted it a ways away on the carpet. It must have fallen off when she crashed onto the floor.
Brushing the strands that had fallen into her eyes away, she continued looking at the creature. To its credit, it hadn't moved, only swiveling slightly to make eye contact with her.
They blinked at each other.
…
…
…
Nervously, she tucked her thumb in and gave the strange creature a salute, signing to it. "Hello."
It blinked again at her. She blinked back. Idly, both of them seemed to notice at the same time that they were both equally as confused.
Looking left and right, Artemis swallowed, biting her lip, and signed to it again. "…how are you?"
She realized after saying it, that that may have been a silly question to ask to something with no way to communicate with her back.
They sat there for a moment in silence. After a while, though, or at least what felt like one, the creature made the first move. Its eyes glowed blue at her.
(Lunatone used CONFUSION!)
Artemis flinched at this, her eyes growing wide as she scrunched further up against the desk. But when it became clear that she wasn't about to have her internal organs blown up, she relaxed, if only slightly, staring up at the creature in confusion.
Another blue glow caught her eye, though, approaching her from the left.
…huh.
Floating in midair, her headband approached her.
It didn't take long to put two and two together.
While she hesitated for a moment, she gently grabbed it, watching the blue glow dissipate after a second, in both the creature's eyes, and on the headband. Pursuing her lips, she rubbed her thumb against its colorful pattern for a second, before gingerly putting it back on her head. The creature floated down to be eye-level with her. They stared at each other for a while, again.
…
…well, at least it wouldn't blow her up with its mind, it seemed.
Quietly, Artemis put her hand to her chin, and lowered it into her other palm. "Thank you."
Its eyes glowed blue again.
This time, when she was surprised, she did her best not to flinch. Or jump away. Or, generally, not embarrass herself in front of this friendly… thing.
A soundless voice reverberated in the back of her mind, though, and while she did her best, a shiver still went down her spine.
"You're… wel…come."
Her jaw dropped.
The magic floating rock that teleported into her sound booth had psychic powers? …OK, she closed her mouth again, that honestly wasn't that shocking now that she put that all together.
Quickly, she started signing back, as fast as her hands could move. "Who are you?"
It glanced to the side. That's a weird thing to see on a creature that's basically just a face, but it did its best. After some thought, it responded.
"I'm not sure."
Any residual fear she might've been harboring towards it, slowly was being whittled away the more she observed it. The rock sank down to meet her on the floor. By virtue of being a rock, it couldn't emote much, but it did still seem confused by that question.
It knitted its brows (or looked like it did; it didn't have eyebrows), seeming distressed by this revelation. Artemis mirrored its expression as she contemplated it as well.
It closed its eyes to think. Then it opened them again, staring at her, and speaking directly into her mind once more.
"I heard that strange ringing noise, and I don't remember much else. This is strange."
Artemis bit the inside of her cheek, turning her head to the side as she thought about it.
Then, she responded.
"Well, my name is A-R-T-E-M-I-S," she signed, before pausing to think for a moment, "…I usually say it like this, though."
She put her thumb and index fingers in a crescent, before miming firing an arrow from a bow with that crescent. Perhaps it was a bit simple, but Artemis thought combining the "moon" and "archery" symbols for a personal sign was appropriate, given her namesake. The creature considered this, before nodding.
Artemis continued, "Do you have a name, at least?"
Again, it closed its eyes. Then, surprisingly, it nodded.
"Lunatone, I think."
Artemis tried a smile. She's been told she wasn't very good at them, but she did her best. "We match."
She heard something akin to laughter in her head. But it sounded more like a bell chiming.
…
…
…tentatively, Artemis stood up, and Lunatone hovered up to meet her. She twirled a strand of her hair as she glanced at Lunatone. Thought for a second. Then, she snapped a picture.
Lunatone cocked its head. Given that it was nothing but a head, this meant its whole body was now at a forty-five degree angle. "What are you doing?"
It was a bit hard to respond when she was typing something, given how her hands were occupied, so she just held up a finger. Lunatone couldn't emote much, but, once again, they considered this. "If you wish, I believe you could send your thoughts to me as well."
Artemis glanced upward at it, blinking.
"…really?"
She didn't expect that to work. But, Lunatone seemed to light up at that—as much as they could, given their form—trying its best to smile back at her. They were both bad at it. "Yes, I think it's working!"
She tried her hand at another small smile at that, looking back at her screen. …huh. She's never been able to talk while her hands were occupied before. It wasn't that big of a nuisance, most of the time, but… it was nice to have the option, at least with one person.
What a strange friend she's made, huh?
…she hoped they could be friends, at least. Lunatone seemed quite pleasant, thus far.
"Well…" she projected at Lunatone. Given its expression, she assumed that it was working, "I'm just trying to see if I can find out what you are."
Lunatona took this in. "Hmm…"
It floated over to her phone screen, as she… sent a message to her friends.
Yeah, great first instincts, Arty. Not even Googling it fi… wait, nevermind, you're right. Using Google's not a great idea in May 2024.
*Star* (Artemis) - 9:33 PM: hey so
*Star* (Artemis) - 9:34 PM: i found a friend i think
*Star* (Artemis) - 9:34 PM: lunatone.jpg
Lunatone turned to her. "We are friends?"
Artemis just shrugged. "Do you want to be?"
It thought about it.
"Okay. I would like to be friends."
Another attempt at a smile. Lunatone did not judge her for it. This was probably because it also could not smile. "I'm glad."
Bzzt!*
The two glanced back at her phone.
They both started looking concerned at what they saw almost immediately.
THE DESTROYER OF WORLDS! (Vivian) - 9:35 PM: LULUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU
Rainy Springtime (March) - 9:35 PM: Hi lulu
Rainy Springtime (March) - 9:35 PM: It's always good to see lulu
THE DESTROYER OF WORLDS! (Vivian) - 9:36 PM: why are you always so hesitant to show us pictures of luluuuuuuuuuu
THE DESTROYER OF WORLDS! (Vivian) - 9:36 PM: i love luluuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu
Artemis and Lunatone glanced back at each other. The fact that they were both equally as confused did not seem to lessen this.
Lunatone spoke first. "Do we… already know each other, Artemis?"
Artemis bit her lip again. She didn't quite know what to say.
She couldn't remember ever having met Lunatone before.
She certainly knew that March and Vivian didn't know who Lunatone was either. Or at least, they shouldn't have. This was the first she's even known of such a creature. A floating, physics defying, psychic moon rock, who was also very polite. If she's never heard of such a thing, then why did they seem so familiar with it?
And they only seemed familiar with it… through her.
What did they mean that she rarely gave them pictures of Lu…lu? Lulu? And, speaking of which, why did they have a nickname for it? Who gave that to it? Was it her?
…wait a sec.
Was it her?
Her veins seemed to chill, as she considered a possibility she didn't like. Slowly, she exited out of the messaging app, and into her photo library.
Both she and Lunatone got even closer to the screen, until both of their noses (beak, in Lunatone's case?) were almost touching it.
She scrolled down on the photo she just took of Lunatone.
Look up: Lunatone
…her phone already knew what it was?
…
…
…she tapped the name.
After a few, tantalizingly long seconds of waiting, her phone loaded pictures onto her device.
Lunatone 214 photos
What.
In unison, both of their eyes widened. Artemis felt herself start to shiver, if just a little bit.
"That's…" she sent, "That shouldn't be possible…!"
But the pictures were there, and she could see them right in front of her eyes. There it was just now, when she had photographed it for the first time. There it was in her room, sleeping during the daytime in a nest of blankets. There it was, greeting patrons with her parents at the planetarium's entrance. There it was with her and her brother Soleil, as well as a different rock, shaped like a sun. There it was, getting a hug from her, as she held up her phone to take a selfie together.
There it was helping her in the sound booth. There it was in her car. There it was in her house. There it was everywhere in her life. She rarely ever took pictures, and yet, she had no shortage of pictures both of and with Lunatone. And she just kept scrolling back, further and further—2024, 2023, 2022… until she realized, this probably went back until she got this phone in the first place. And who knows how many more from before that were saved on a cloud or something?
She dropped the phone on the floor, letting it slip from her grasp as she stared forward, disbelievingly. Both of them stared at where her phone was in her palm, not moving, eyes wide in shock.
…
…
…
She repeated herself.
"That shouldn't be possible."
"…no, it shouldn't be."
…they looked at each other, turning their heads slowly.
…
And, quietly, Lulu asked a question.
"What now?"
Some people remembered in a stranger way than that, though.
Let's go to Monday.
Yeah, Monday. You probably forgot by now that there was a Monday involved in all of this, didn't you? Before everything broke? This all happened in like, a day.
That's cosmic madness, for ya.
The Monday, in the old timeline. Before Alex tripped and fell through the earth, before Leah saw through the cracks in spacetime, before golden pages infected reality. Let's take a look at how things were, for a little boy.
He's an important little boy, though. Let's try and stay somewhat on-topic.
And he's watching a familiar tune, by now, at 7 PM on a school night.
"The hills are alive… with the sound of music…!"
The lights were off in his house, as the boy in purple sat at the edge of the couch, hand in his chin, face illuminated only by the blue glow of the screen, and whatever evening light shone through the curtains. Intently, he observed the camera following a woman in frolicking through the mountains, spinning around in picturesque fields as she sang. She stared into the distance while the song fades off, before she panicked at a distant bell chiming, running into town as the opening credits began.
A Robert Wise Production
of Robert and Hammerstein's
The Sound of Music
…
The boy leaned back in his seat.
He didn't really think he'd be all that invested in this.
He thought he'd get bored and decide it wasn't worth looking into after all in just a few minutes. This isn't the type of movie he watched, after all, and these songs were slower and fancier than what he usually listened to. But he sat still during the orchestral medley in the opening credits, through the song where nuns complained about that woman on the mountains, a sunny young lady named Maria. He felt a pang in his chest when they started calling her a "clown," and when Mother Abbott sent her away. He was practically at the edge of his seat when she sang "I Have Confidence."
He bit his lip, and looked down at the flier in his lap.
Edwardsville Community Theater Presents…
The Sound of Music
Summer Youth Production
All Grades Welcome!
Auditions: Saturday, June 1st, 12 PM — 3 PM
It was wrinkled and full of creases from how long it'd been in his pockets, and the boy contemplated it. It… it sounded fun. It's just not the sort of thing he's usually seen doing. And, the other boys at Edwardsville Middle would make fun of him if they caught him doing something so "girly," too…
He's kept it in his pockets for a long while now, though.
His friend, this girl named Sunny, had done a musical with the Community Theater before: Mamma Mia!, he remembered. She only got an ensemble role—the big parts were usually given out to the older kids, anyways—but he had still gone to see her the night of her big show. And it just looked…
The kids up there looked like they were enjoying themselves a lot… a lot a lot. Much more than he did at the soccer leagues he went to.
(He didn't like soccer very much.)
(He thought his dad could tell that he didn't enjoy it, but most of the cool boys in his grade played some kind of sport in the summertime, which meant he had to as well. There were others he could try, of course, but soccer seemed the most innocuous. He didn't have the coordination to hit anything in baseball. He sank like a log while swimming. And football just looked painful.)
(He just wanted people to like him.)
(Most people didn't.)
Earlier that month, while he was putting books away in his locker, he noticed the sign-up sheet for that summer's soccer club on a corkboard. The bland paper, covered in clipart soccer balls from the first row of Google Images, had probably been hanging there for days by that point, and he just hadn't noticed it. A lot of familiar names were written on it, after all.
He thought he recognized a few. He had played it for a while, so he probably knew those kids; although when he mindlessly glossed over the list, he couldn't put faces to those names.
He ignored how his gut reaction to seeing that sheet was how he wasn't necessarily looking forward to seeing any of them again.
("Stop acting like a little girl and run faster, you crybaby!")
("Aw, c'mon, don't yellow card me! It's just Tutu over here…")
("Don't put him at the goal! He's too dainty to block the ball!")
("Quit picking flowers, blockhead! It's match time, MAN UP!")
The boy had pulled out a pen, and he was about to write his name (reluctantly) on the sign-up sheet, but he had pursed his lips as he remembered all of that. It put a bad taste in his mouth.
He found himself lowering the pen.
But, he couldn't step back. He still did have to sign up for summer soccer. He always signed up for that. It… it wasn't a particularly engaging activity, sure, but it was an obligation he had, a box he needed to tick off.
("MAN UP!")
He stopped moving the pen on the paper, and ended up smudging it. He had been writing a T on the next open line, which just turned into a squiggly splotch. He gripped the pen tighter.
…
He put the pen back in his pocket, and backed off from the flier.
…
…
"Tulip!"
With barely enough time to turn around, Tulip found himself being practically tackle-hugged against the wall by a girl not much shorter than him. A few months ago, he probably would've freaked out at being touched like that (or at all). But it was just her usual greeting. She'd let go soon.
"Uh… hi Sunny."
The girl did in fact let go, twirling away to let her white sundress flair out. She shot a grin at him, a beaming smile that would blind someone if they weren't careful. He supposed she lived up to her namesake.
They had talked for a while, he remembered. Or, more so, she talked, and he did his best to listen. That was usually how their conversations went, anyhow. She loved to talk, and he didn't, so the dynamic just worked out.
It was mostly just small talk, stuff that seemed important then, but he couldn't recall now. But that was OK. Really, he was just glad someone talked to him at all; most people either ignored him or made fun of him these days. Sunny was the only kid in his grade that enjoyed his presence, maybe.
He couldn't be sure why. It wasn't like he was good at being "welcoming" or "outspoken" like she was. He usually just shrugged a black hoodie over one of his many, many purple t-shirts (he had a favorite color, sue him) and hoped no one noticed him. Himself included.
(Tulip didn't like being perceived. Sometimes he wished he didn't even have a body to perceive at all.)
Sunny didn't seem to mind him, though. He's not sure what she saw in him, but the girl practically latched onto him, and refused to let him go, both figuratively and literally. Figuratively in how she always sat next to him at lunch, how she managed to get her number in his contacts, how she insisted on having sleepovers at her house, and then promised not to tell anybody when he told her how the other boys said it was "stupid" for boys to have sleepovers.
Literally in how she was… really touchy. She liked to, well, touch. She was a bouncy ball of energy, and she took him by the hands, hugged him, ran her hands through his curly hair and told him how soft and pretty it was, and that he ought to stop hiding it under his hoodie. He usually didn't like being touched. It's part of why he wore the jacket in the first place.
He didn't mind Sunny touching him, though. He knew she'd stop if he asked, she was respectful like that. But he almost didn't want her to stop. He… maybe he liked it, just a little.
Then, the bell for next period rang, and he politely waved goodbye to her. There was a little hint of a smile on his lips that went away as he walked to class, and a big grin on Sunny's face that didn't disappear as she waved her hand over her head.
Tulip sighed, and made his way to his third period. He couldn't remember what it was, really. It was so late in the school year that he didn't care anymore. (He'd rather be at another sleepover at Sunny's house anyways.)
But then, she called out to him.
"Oh, Tulip, before I forget!"
Again, he could barely turn around before she was on him, but instead of a hug, this time, she shoved a paper into his chest. He stumbled back for a second with an "Oof!", tentatively holding the crumpled sheet in his hands.
He glanced at it. It was the same flier he still had crumpled in his pockets now, weeks later. Auditions for The Sound of Music.
For a moment, panic surged through him. What if the other boys saw him with this, what sort of things would they say? "Of course the sissy wants to join the plaaaaaay! Gonna run off to be an actor, Tutu? When are you finally gonna stop playing with dolls and grow a pair?!"
(Sometimes he wonders whose voice he hears when he imagines those things.)
For a flicker of an instant, he imagined rushing over to the trash can and throwing it out before anybody else could see him. But, the hall had thinned out, and he suppressed that urge when he caught Sunny's beaming face in the corner of his eyes, looking expectantly. He wondered if she waited for the crowd to thin on purpose, or if it was just a coincidence.
He glanced up at her properly, then. "You… want me to join the play with you?"
"The musical, yep!" Sunny said, subtly emphasizing the word "musical," as if "play" was incorrect, somehow, "You seemed to be super excited to see Mamma Mia!, so I thought… why not invite you to the next one?"
He turned to the side, hugging the flier to his chest. "I was excited 'cause you were in it…"
She giggled a bit at that, albeit playfully.
"Well, of course," she shot a wink at him, "Who wouldn't be excited to see me?"
A lot of people, he thought to himself. Sunny wasn't exactly popular herself, like how he wasn't. Kids called her annoying, thought she was "too much," and kept their distance. But he elected not to tell her that. She didn't seem to mind, after all.
(He wished he could be as confident in his own skin as she was in hers.)
"Still, though," she turned her smile into something more genuine, at that, lowering her voice from a shout to a reasonable volume, "It was super duper fun, so I just thought you might enjoy it too. The people who do these things are like us, y'know? Us misfits oughta stick together!"
…
He glanced down at the paper, the word rolling around in his head. Sunny called herself a "misfit" all the time, granted, but he… couldn't really deny that for himself, he supposed. He didn't fit in either, albeit not for a lack of effort. Tulip certainly did his best to stay off the "misfit" radar, after all. He did his best to stay unnoticed.
(When they noticed, they seemed to see something in him that he tried to ignore, that itching in his skin, that sensation that made him wish he could just be someone else. They seemed to sense that he didn't belong; they saw something in him that he just couldn't. And they didn't like what they saw.)
That didn't mean he felt at home there, though, on the sidelines.
Sensing his hesitation, Sunny had glanced up at the wall clock, and rubbed the back of her neck. He took a look as well. Two minutes until class started. Better get a move on.
"Just… think about it, yeah?" she said. She had started to walk backwards; their classes for this period were on opposite ends of the building, "I'm sure you'd like it more than those soccer games I know you hate!"
("Know you hate"?)
Before he could question how she knew that, or why she said "soccer" with such vitriol, she was off like a shot, dyed teal hair fluttering as she dashed away. He stood there for a few moments, just staring at where she had been.
He still kept that flier, in the pocket of his black pants.
("Those soccer games I know you hate!")
On the screen, Maria sang another song, now, to the van Trapp children she was looking after. They were scared of a thunderstorm brewing outside, and so she told them all about wild geese that flew with the moon on their wings, and brown paper packages tied up with string.
"These are a few of my favorite things!"
He'd heard of her, the actress. Some older woman named Julie Andrews. Sunny was a huge fan of hers, so of course he knew a thing or two. But right now, he was just listening to her cute little songs about music, and confidence, and loving simple pleasures, and strangely found himself calm, warm. Something unnamed in him reacted to that.
He knew he couldn't, but for a fleeting moment, he considered auditioning for Maria.
.
(…)
(OOOOOhh nonononononononono—)
((carefully, he sent that thought to the back of his head, not to be touched))
Tulip glanced at the flier again. A part of him, that scared part of him that didn't like conflict, didn't like being seen, didn't like people laughing at him or looking at him or perceiving him at all, just wanted to tear it to pieces and forget it even happened. It was a stupid idea, he shouldn't have even considered it. If any of the boys at school caught wind of this…
But it wasn't a stupid idea. It was Sunny's idea.
("Us misfits oughta stick together!")
("MAN UP!")
("I thought you might enjoy it too.")
("What's the matter with you, Tutu, can't even take that? WOW, you really are a—")
He stopped remembering what that boy had said to him. Tulip didn't like remembering that one.
It wasn't really a contest for his emotions, as to what he would prefer to do this summer. Something in him almost hoped that he wouldn't really be into the play if he gave it a try, that he could justify doing what he always did, justify not taking any risks. But, something else was more relieved than ever to be given an alternative to sweltering in the mid-June sun, with boys too rough and mean and smelly for his liking, who seemingly would never like him no matter what he tried.
(Why did he hold out hope that someone might like him? No one liked him.)
(Except Sunny. And his dad. Maybe.)
(But what else could he do?)
(If he stopped trying, then he'd just have to rely on himself, and he couldn't effortlessly love who he was like Sunny could. To do that, he'd have to look at himself in the mirror, and be alright with whoever stared back at him.)
(He hasn't been able to do that in years.)
"I simply remember my favorite things, and then I don't feel… so bad!"
"Oh, it's been a while since I've seen this one. What inspired this, kid?"
…
Tulip froze on the couch, unable to turn away.
The movie continued playing on the screen, and a man in blue came around the couch, sitting to his right. Tulip didn't inch in the slightest, eyes wide, staring down at the carpet. Almost as if he was caught in the act.
(He was caught in the act.)
(Everything he did, he did in private. Sometimes with Sunny, but doing things with her didn't feel public. It felt like their collective private time, to him.)
(People knowing what he did in his own time should've been a surface level fact, but it just wasn't. It felt more like he was being peeled back, like someone was looking into him, into something he barely knew himself. He wanted to cover that up desperately. He wanted there to be nothing at all.)
"I, uh…" he couldn't bring himself to speak, to pause the screen. He hadn't heard the man come in. Had he been so engrossed that he didn't notice? Stupid, stupid…!
"Hi, dad."
…
…hold on, that doesn't mean anything to you.
If you could see pictures, images, like I could, you'd probably know who this was. But I don't know how to show you the world yet, so you're gonna have to make do with my descriptions. A man in blue sat next to Tulip, and inched closer to him.
After a second of his child not responding to him, wordlessly, he grabbed the remote, and paused the movie. Tulip almost flinched
He glanced away from the man, and held his flier to his chest. But Gentian Hazel, to his dismay, seemed to already have noticed it.
…
(See, I told you you'd know him.)
(Oh, shoot, can I do the parenthesis thing too? That's good to know, actually, I'll have to use that more! I'll just keep that in mind for later…)
Noticing his child's discomfort, though, he did his best to put on a warm smile. It didn't usually work for Tulip, but still, he tended to respond to it.
At the very least, Gentian knew to try and be gentle with Tulip. He's a good kid, just… fragile. Shy. And tried not to reveal either of those facts. He liked trying to be tougher, less breakable.
"Like" wasn't the word Tulip would use, though. It was self-defense at most. It hurt, but it was necessary.
(Self-defense and self-harm didn't make a difference to him. It was just better to hurt himself than to let someone else do it.)
("WOW, you really are a—")
"You want to join the play?"
At those words, Tulip's brain seemed to realize that yes, he was a real human who existed in space and time, and someone was talking to him. Flush with embarrassment, he clutched the flier tighter, and began stuffing it in his pockets again.
His dad looked concerned as he started doing that, before stumbling over his words, "Well, I—uh, I mean it was Sunny's idea and all, but, no, it's, it's stupid, I shouldn't have tho—wait, wait not Sunny, Sunny's not dumb, but, I, I, I, I just—"
"Tulip, Tulip."
Carefully, Gentian scootched closer to him on the couch, putting an arm around his shoulders. Tulip shied away a bit, but didn't leave, just averted his gaze again. Gentian thought a bit on what to say, before speaking again, methodically.
"I don't think it's stupid, if you wanted to do that."
This seemed to get his attention, somewhat. His eyes were a dark brown, bordering on black, so sometimes it was hard to tell where he was looking in the low light. Tulip flicked his eyes in his direction, though. Gentian hoped he was looking at him.
Tentatively, he reached his hand out, almost gesturing for the flier, to get a closer look. Tulip hesitated. Almost as if, when his father had it, it would be a genuine consideration.
His father glanced over at it, smoothing over the page with his hands, before putting on a pair of reading glasses on the end table.
(Laughing at him they're laughing at him they all hate him they all think he's stupid—)
"Hmmm…" he didn't look at his father as he held the page up, reading the details. He glanced at Tulip. Tulip didn't look back.
"I think I remember this group…" he mused, lowering the page, "We went to see your friend Sunny at one, yes?"
Tulip nodded, and he was sure that there was a bit of a blush on his face. Despite how the low lighting and his darker skin probably hid that, he couldn't help but feel embarrassed that he was blushing at all. If anything, it made it worse. A real Catch 22.
He almost shook his head at how that was his first thought, biting his inner cheek. Stupid… he was such a nerd…
"Well, it's good that you have a friend there already. I think it's good for you to branch out somewhere… kinder."
Tulip hugged his knees to his chest at that. He didn't look up. He muttered something that Gentian couldn't quite hear.
"Hm?"
"I…" he swallowed. Tulip tended to stutter a lot when he was nervous, Gentian noticed. He never brought it up, though. The kid was self-conscious enough. "I just don't… they'll…"
"…you don't have to do anything you don't want to, Tulip."
Oh, how he wished he could believe that.
…
…
…Gentian had had enough silence, though.
His father scootched closer to him again, and put a hand around his shoulder that Tulip tried not to react to. He didn't shrug it off. He didn't want to lean into it either. He didn't really know what he was feeling at all.
But, it was almost like he could feel himself wanting something, but actively chose to ignore it.
(Familiar.)
His father pulled him into a hug.
He leaned into it.
…
(…gosh, he remembered watching Mean Girls once. What was it that one girl had said about wanting to go back to kindergarten, when everyone was kinder? That sounded nice. He could do whatever he wanted then. He wouldn't have to worry about anything.)
"Look, kiddo," his father's voice was gentle, gentler than anybody else he knew. It wasn't abrasive, like the boys were. It wasn't bursting with energy like Sunny, either. It was just… steady. In a way that he couldn't help but listen to, against his better judgements. Something in him fought back, but at the same time, he didn't ever really want to fight back.
(The only person to be patient with him. Not even the teachers were.)
(Was he weak just for wanting that?)
(The boys would say he was.)
((he didn't like the boys))
Gentian sighed. A deep, genuine one, as he rubbed his hand on Tulip's shoulder.
He wanted to be tougher. Less breakable. Gentian knew why. And, while he wanted to be patient with his son, not everyone wanted to be that way. The kid was just too stubborn to just… walk away from those sorts of people, the kinds that couldn't appreciate him. Too stubborn for his own good, to accept that sometimes, he couldn't just will himself into someone he wasn't.
Stubborn. Just like his mother.
"I know you have… troubles, with making friends," he was slow when saying this, picking each word out of his head meticulously. But it was still so hard to think of just what to say. Why didn't someone ever make a guidebook on how to do this? He was an anthropologist, yet he only seemed to understand people when it wasn't the one who mattered.
Was he connecting? Was he connecting with his son? Gentian hoped so.
"And…" his son wasn't looking him in the eyes, but he could tell the eyes were wide. Was he panicking? "…I just want you to do whatever it is that makes you… happy. Happy, and comfortable."
After a second, he added (albeit slightly haphazardly), "No matter what anybody else thinks."
…
…
"…I…"
It was the first thing Tulip said, after all of that. He seemed not to be able to say anymore, though, opting to just turn away. Stubborn, yet simultaneously, weak-willed. A contradiction, that kid. Gentian couldn't wrap his head around him.
"You don't have to make any decisions you don't want to," Gentian added, slowly. He tried to gauge Tulip's feelings on the matter, but Tulip, as ever, remained unreadable. Like he had just… shut down. "And you don't have to do anything now."
…
…he needed a change in subject. The kid had shut himself off.
And that's when an idea struck him.
"Here. I want to show you something."
Tulip heard his father rustling through a bag, and tentatively, turned over to see it. There was a stack of white papers, not-too-freshly printed, that he neatly placed in his lap, dusting them off. Even in the low light, he could tell they were color-printed.
Pokemon
…
…what.
He found himself leaning over, slowly, as his father clicked on a lamp by the end table. The soft light revealed that the word "Pokemon" was written in a cartoony yellow and blue, very unlike his incredibly professional father. It was more like Sunny, to him.
He cocked his head, glancing up at Gentian. The man just chuckled, turning the page. Or, really, just putting the top sheet of paper aside, to reveal more Sunny-esque drawings.
"One of my students was working on this project," he passed a page over to Tulip, who looked at it up and down. Some sort of… horse, llama thing, in a gate. Strange. It almost felt like it belonged in a children's show. Arceus, it was labelled.
His father continued, as Tulip looked through the strange images.
(They were… kinda cute.)
((he liked cute things))
"She emailed me her project folder, so I thought I'd show you," he shrugged, "I thought you'd be interested!"
There was a little pink cat on the page, a friendly smile on its face. Apparently, this was a self-insert for the artist. It said so on the side. Mew.
((that one was really cute))
((he wondered how it would look, if it was purple?))
…wait.
"Why?"
He felt like he should've thrown the pages away and refused to look at them. Those weren't right for a boy his age to be looking at, were they? Boys his age were usually all about… uh… the… the army? Yeah, that seemed kinda correct. Maybe. He honestly wasn't sure what they were into, so it was probably that. They were violent enough for it.
("You really are a—")
Tulip, instead, neatly stacked the pile of drawings—the Pokedex, as it was called in one of the many, many footnotes (whoever made this was certainly passionate…)—and looked up at his father. The man just smiled down at him.
"I thought they were…" he pauses for a moment, looking into the distance, as if to find the right word.
(Don't say cute, Tulip doesn't like cute. Tulip'll shut down again if he hears "cute.")
(Don't say cool, not cool! He'll smile awkwardly and shuffle away, never to look at the drawings again.)
"…neat. I thought they were neat."
Tulip furrowed a brow at this, causing Gentian to rub the back of his neck.
"O…kay?" Tulip bit his lip. Then… tentatively, stacked the Pokedex in a neat pile to his side. "Uh… thanks, dad."
(Oh, thank goodness, he didn't shut down. He's alright.)
Gentian withheld the urge to sigh in relief as Tulip got comfortable on the couch again, not slouching back into it like he wanted a sofa gremlin to pull him between the cushions, never to be seen again. He did that surprisingly often! (That's not a good thing.)
…
…
…Gentian took the remote control, and looked at Tulip again.
"Did you want to finish your movie, kiddo?"
…
…
…he nodded. Slowly. "…yeah."
(Oh. Thank goodness. He thought he ruined something for him for a moment then.)
(But it's alright.)
(Everything's going to be alright.)
"Alright."
It was an old movie, but certainly one he was fond of, over the years. Something about an old-timey, but sweet-hearted movie, it made him nostalgic.
"Let's start at the very beginning, a very good place to start…"
His son, though, was watching more intently than he'd ever admit. His eyes were practically glowing with the reflection of the movie; he hardly ever blinked. He didn't know the words, and yet, he was silently mouthing the lyrics to the song.
And, again, Gentian withheld a sigh.
(Sometimes he wondered if he had to start at the very beginning with his son.)
(Sometimes, he wondered if his son was someone else entirely from who he told himself he was.)
Of course, there were those who never got the opportunities to forget. You've probably been worrying about them. But don't worry, they're mostly as we left them.
Gina doesn't have legs again, though.
"This place still gives me the heebeegeebees."
Patty glanced around nervously, beholding, once again, the wretched void she got sent to just a few hours before. Isolated, reddish isles, subject to no laws of physics, and staying solid on a whim, had been scattered like specks of dust in her view. She did her best to kneel (curse her weird, dragony legs and ambiguous joints…), getting closer to her brother, comatose on their isle's surface.
She was especially grateful that Gina had opened the portal under him; the isle had cracked under his weight despite his floaty fall. Then again, if she was a space dragon goddess… thing, would she be strong enough to lift him anyways?
Part of her, the one not focused on the inherent horrors of everything at hand, almost wanted to test that.
From across the void, a hole into the waking world began to close up, as if being shut with a zipper. Gina, once again legless (her body really did just shift when she was in here, didn't it?) found it precisely that simple. It was a bit unsettling. The first time she opened a portal, it gave her vertigo and a headache. Now it's just so easy.
She fully closed the portal, only leaving the swirling purple void where it had been. Then, she glanced back at Patty.
"It was your idea to travel through here, y'know," she said. She cringed slightly, remembering the oddities of her voice. Voices. Ugh. Patty scratched the back of her weirdly long neck in response.
"We couldn't just stay in the streets, though," she said, "We couldn't leave Danny with… all those people watching."
(All those cameras, all those silent stares, all that fear, all that panic…)
(It gave Patty the creeps, if she was honest! She usually got looks because she had no idea how to act like a normal person in public spaces, not because she was. Well. This.)
Gina hummed in agreement, glancing at her brother.
He didn't have to breathe.
None of them had to breathe. She wasn't sure when she became aware of it, she seemed to be shaken by the revelation over and over again. But they didn't have lungs, or innards, and thus, they didn't have a need for air.
But Danny's chest, draconic and weird and metallic as it was, still had the steady rise and fall of someone merely sleeping.
She sighed, despite her own needlessness for air. Force of habit. Maybe, some part of him was doing this subconsciously, like how she did. At the very least, it meant he wasn't dead.
They didn't need something like that on top of everything else.
Although, whatever this was couldn't be much better than all that.
"You, uh…" Patty looked around the little island, trying to move Danny's legs into a position that looked more comfortable. Or at least, less like a dead insect, like how he collapsed, "You mentioned something about a time shift?"
Gina, again, sighed. It was a bad habit. And a force of habit. She's using every habit idiom today!
"That's what Alex said, anyhows," she floated closer to the two of them, on their little island. Thinking for a moment, she glanced at one of the weird, zero-gravity waterfalls scattered throughout her Realm Thing. Using a tendril, she reached out for it. In a normal space, this would be too far away. And also water. And also falling, as the fall part of "waterfall" implied.
But instead, being the Magic Realm Of Distortion And Whatnot, or whatever they chose to call it, Gina managed to drape it over Danny, like some sort of blanket. She blinked at that. Huh. She didn't actually think that would've worked.
"What the…" she shook her head, clearing her throat, "Regardless, yes. I… I think. Things are already weird enough, I've lost track."
Patty didn't find this answer satisfactory, she could tell. There was a tenseness in her arms and a seriousness to her gaze that had some kind of anger behind it. One that didn't really have anywhere to go.
(If only there was somewhere it could go.)
(If all of their problems could be solved by Patty just beating someone up. How easy would it be? Even if she was still a human, at this point, with how frustrated she was, she could probably beat up an eldritch god within an inch of its life. She'd do it with ease!)
(Just look at Danny! Just… just look at…)
(Oh Danny…)
Patty turned away from Gina.
(Maybe it was Leah to blame. That's who Alex sent to her pocket world for all of this, after all. She did this, didn't she? She caused the whole "time travel" thing, right? Or, no, that was Caleb, technically? But he's unconscious too, and with Alex, and… her wires were getting crossed. She needed to reorganize them.)
(And, Alex said that Leah wasn't acting herself. Did this whole… thing, break her too? Made Danny go to sleep, and made Leah crazy?)
(She wishes she could just… do something about it. But who could she aim her anger at when everyone was victimized, in some way or another?)
(Ugh. This is why she got suspended so many times in high school.)
She stared at Danny.
Danny…
(Danny.)
(Oh, wow. Wasn't it not even a week ago, that their last semester at college ended? She could remember that day clearly; maybe it was because it was the last day before this whole, stupid project started. The two of them had driven out of town to get those nice donuts. They were late to the study meeting because of that, but when Danny was driving, they were always late.)
(But it was so… simple.)
(Boston Creme donut for him, extra sprinkles for her. Gina got a muffin. Alex got her white hot chocolate with chai tea.)
(Where did that go?)
(Where did he go?)
(When is her brother gonna wake up?)
"In one mile, make a right onto Crown Road."
Turning her phone off, Sharon kept driving, merely setting the device in an empty cupholder. "I can take it from here, Maps."
The sun had set by now, and thankfully, their journey home was almost done. She had to go well over the speed limit to do such a thing, going on a few backstreets to avoid traffic, and the stray cop car, but she was gonna make it home. She was gonna make it home.
"You don't have to come in when I get there," Sharon said. She gave a side-eye to Ryan in her passenger seat, shifting uncomfortably in his green jacket, "I can drop you off first, even, if you want. I know Jewel's still gotta take her meds."
He just shook his head at her, glancing back at the girl in the backseat again. Her eyes were glazed over at this point, staring blankly out the window in exhaustion. But she wasn't asleep. Goodness knows she needed it, but she just couldn't get it.
Still, though. His oldest friend was worried, and for good reason. He couldn't just leave her to the wolves, even with his own good reasons.
"You know I have to make sure you're alright, Sharon," he glanced back at her. Sharon sighed, slumping at the wheel. The suburban streets were familiar, and slower, and so she could afford to take her pedal off the metal. Moreso, though, if she didn't, she was probably going to hit someone. And then keep driving.
She had a mission.
She couldn't bring herself to muster many words. The drive back from the flower show had been a long, long stretch. But still, she tried her best, looking at Ryan briefly.
"Well, thanks," she muttered. She passed another intersection. Turnback Boulevard. That's the place where Alex's girlfriend lived, yeah? Maybe she should've called up Gina too, to see if she could find anything. Or, did she already? She can't remember. She's so tired.
Red light. She stopped herself from slumping over in her seat right then and there and going to sleep. Maybe she ought to make Jewel drive, at this rate. At least there wouldn't be a risk of her falling asleep at the wheel.
Green light. Forcing herself to sit back up, she groaned. Wherever her family was, she hoped they had a good explanation for all this. A really good explanation.
(In all honesty, though, she'd just be grateful to see that they're alright.)
In the backseat, Ryan's daughter stirred, adjusting her headphones on her head. Ryan flicked his eyes back to her again, watching Jewel grimace, if just a bit. She pressed the starry headphones closer to her head, closing her eyes, but still very much not sleeping. Was she tired? He frowned in response, something Sharon could pick up on. She started again.
"Are you sure you don't want me to drop you off?" she asked, "I know you're fine with coming in, but I want to make sure Jewel's alright."
Ryan sighed. "A bit late for that now. We're almost at your place."
She stopped at the intersection. Stop sign. Blearily, she tried to make out the street names in her dim headlights.
Velle Rd - Crown Rd
…huh.
"So we are…" she muttered to herself. She couldn't tell if all of Edwardsville looked the same, or if she was just that tired.
She made that right.
"OK, kids, Regi, where are you…?"
Alex stared out into Gina's abyss. Then, to Caleb.
She couldn't tell what concerned her more.
Logically, any human part of her mind was telling her that it should be the swirling mass of chaotic nonexistence that made up the twisted dimension she was in. That would be most people's concern, anyhow. The green pixie on the isle before her would merely be a cherry on top, compared to everything in this nothing.
But she was more focused on Caleb.
("Leah, stop.")
("What are you even planning on doing to her?")
The way he spoke to her wasn't the way Caleb spoke to Leah.
It was the way Caleb spoke, definitely. There wasn't anything out of the ordinary, or there wouldn't be, if he was talking to anybody else. But Caleb didn't act so forcefully with Leah.
She'd known Caleb for a while. They aren't the oldest friends in the group—they only met through Leah after all—but… something had to have been wrong.
(Or maybe things just changed.)
(The two of them barely talked, after all. This wasn't Gina, who she saw everyday. This isn't Leah, whom she had known for as long as she knew. This was… Caleb. A sweet writer who just grew distant with distance.)
((alex didn't like change))
((and that was just another part of the waking nightmare that was her life now))
(Leah…)
She shook her head. She told herself, after Patty had asked for this portal to open, that, until she could just sort everything out, she wasn't gonna think about it. She wasn't gonna think about how she just…
(A crack in the ground, rosy in color, swallowing her whole.)
…threw her oldest friend into a swirling void, deep in a pit of rage.
(Swirling, twirling, shifting, how could she not be full of rage? Look at how the world burned. Look at how for an instant, nothing was!)
((it's not like her to feel angry))
(It's not her fault.)
((getting upset drove people away. a good friend isn't upset. a good friend is supportive and quiet))
((they left you anyways))
"Shut up!"
Alex put one of her golden hooves to her head, looking down. She didn't have to breathe, but she found herself doing it anyway, as if trying to calm herself. There wasn't any relief in the action.
Get it together.
"A… Alex?"
The girl opened her eyes, putting her hoof back down on the unstable surface of the isle. It didn't wobble. It did most of the time. Just not for her. For once in her life, she was slightly grateful to be the one left out of something.
Until she saw the big blue eyes of the green pixie before her, not wide, but still open.
…
…
…
"…hi, Caleb."
Tentatively, he tried sitting up. The tiny floating rock Alex had situated him on seemed to accommodate to this, morphing almost to the shape of a chair as he did so. For a moment, he looked as if he was about to comment, before he shook his head, ignoring it.
She got the feeling. There was too much happening as of late.
They glanced at each other for a while. Neither quite knew how to bring up the blatant fact in the room. If she still had lips, Alex would've bit hers.
Really, they did have to talk about it, she knew. She probably should've thought her whole "don't think about it" plan through before waiting on Caleb. And, as if he was aware of this, he had to bring it up.
"Where is she?"
(Ah, fiddlesticks.)
(She'd love to use a stronger word there, but her distaste for foul language was probably the last check on herself she had yet to break.)
"Leah is…" she turned away from him, looking into the swirling void. Really, where was she, exactly? She put her into Patty's pocket dimension, and told Patty not to let her out until they figured out what to do with her. But what exactly was that pocket dimension? Was it like this? Was it a swirling nothing?
Ugh, that just sounded absurd. She was so sick of all this. She just wanted to go home.
"Leah… wasn't acting herself. I…"
She inhaled sharply. Caleb curled a brow at her. He seemed almost ready to burst. She got the feeling.
"I… contained her. Until we can figure it out."
…
…
…
…oh gosh, that was a tense moment in Alex's life.
She's never been a face reader. But when the face was on what appeared to be a fairy made of celery, from a friend that she, admittedly, could've been closer to, it looked aggressively neutral, in a way not much else could be.
He glanced aside.
"She said you went missing," he said, after a moment. He looked back at her, "Before all of… this happened, and that, that thing turned her into a creature. Leah went looking for you. She was so scared, Alex. Is this where you were? Is this where she is?"
…Alex held back a sigh.
(She also held back a brief bout of panic.)
(She went looking for her? She went to her house, didn't she? Was… were her siblings alright? Her dad? Surely, if they were fine, then Leah wouldn't have been so worried, right? Or at the very least, she'd have heard about them. Where were they?)
((was it her fault?))
((it was her house. Leah went looking for her at her own house and couldn't find her. and then she became Mew? that couldn't be a coincidence))
"Alex. I'm worried about her. She was calling herself Mew, for goodness sake."
((…she called herself by a similar name))
((when she woke up on the Zehn's lawn. she remembered that she couldn't remember much, and started calling herself
Arceus
…
"…Alex?"
…
…she got better, though. she remembered being pulled out of it, eventually. There was a white room with pillars, and she just… she… she…))
((it's blurry))
((leah just needed time to adjust))
((she just needed time))
"…Alex? Are you listening? What's wrong?"
"She'll be fine."
She didn't realize that she zoned out. She's been doing that way too much, gaze hardened in exhaustion, and she sighed.
"I'm leaving her in her containment, for now," Alex said. Her voice was so dry, it felt almost ready to crack (like the rest of her), "I was like this when it came for me. She needs to come to terms with it."
((she hoped she was right))
Caleb blinked.
Alex sighed, despite her lack of a mouth, and started to walk to the edge of her isle. She had… so much to do. It was Tuesday, yeah? She hadn't seen or even contacted her family since… What, yesterday? And she didn't even know if they were safe. She remembered, when she awoke again, there was this… golden storm, and she could see something in her mind's eye about them—
"…'Lexi?"
—but then again, everything about when she first woke up, both times, had been so disorienting that she could hardly remember what had happened. She kind of remembered, but everything was starting to blur together—
"I've never… uh, seen you that assertive."
—and when things started to blur, she found it hard to focus, and then she found it hard to remember just what to do. Home. Home. Alex was going home today. That's what she had to do, she had to see if her family was doing well, and to tell them she wasn't dead, wasn't trampled by the magic white deer who was probably on Snapchat, wasn't—
"…you're still Alex, aren't you?"
—some victim of ego death—
.
…?
Slowly, she turned to him again.
His eyes, blue and shining, were open in a sense of trepidation, of fear, that Alex had never seen directed at her.
…
(And, when she realized just what he was asking, what he was implying of her, the typically nervous-wreck, self-doubting college student, she mirrored his expression.)
(Her thoughts almost fell off into a ravine at that.)
No.
"I… yes, Caleb. I'm still Alex."
No, you're much more than that.
…
…they never really could hold a conversation anyways. Not without her in the room. That was fine. She knew he liked her more anyways.
(It was hard not to.)
"I need to go."
.
He shook his head. "Huh?"
But she was already on her way, practically rushing off without so much as an explanation. Alex wasn't usually this sudden, this to-the-point. Quickly, she shuffled to the edge of the isle, as if she couldn't help but to get away from this conversation. Simultaneously, it was both like, and unlike her.
Caleb didn't know if he had to worry or not.
("My name is Mew.")
("I'm still Alex.")
…
…
…why her, then?
Why did Leah break so easily?
.
"Alex."
"AAH!"
She flinched and almost fell backwards onto her rear as the shadowy dragon appeared before her, practically not-a-nose to not-a-nose. As she caught her breath, at the very least, Gina had the decency to look ashamed, if only a little, before delivering news.
She backed away, just out of her face, and turned aside, "I… hm. I've got some bad news."
Oh. Joy. Another thing to add onto the pile. She could swear, she was developing eye bags at this point, and they only got deeper anytime she heard poor news.
Letting out a deep, deep sigh, Alex glanced up at Gina, about ready to collapse, "What's it now?"
"Well, I can see a lot from this world, I found out, and…" Gina trailed off. She squinted her eyes, thinking of how to phrase herself.
"And…?"
Gina groaned herself. At the very least, both of them were exhausted together. How… romantic.
"…it's better just to show you."
"Regi? Kids?"
Stepping into her empty home past 10 PM wasn't usual for Sharon Gigas. Especially not with the car still running, and another man scrambling to turn it off while trailing behind her. She also usually got the lock on the first try, instead of missing the keyhole five times while said other man managed to turn off the car and collect his insomniac daughter from the backseat before she could even take a crack at it. Usually, she was very normal, and very punctual.
These times were not normal or punctual in the slightest, these times were the times to start panicking.
"REGI! KIDS!"
Inching further into her house, flipping on lights as she went, Sharon Gigas frantically rushed about, kicking open doors and slamming them with reckless abandon. Every empty room only served to make her more frantic, to the point where she was willing to walk in on someone showering if it meant getting any sort of response.
The man behind her was looking as well, albeit with a touch less fanaticism. Lethargically, Jewel tried alongside Ryan, yawning as she went up the staircase, and went back down again.
"No… not there."
"Then WHERE ARE THEY?!"
When the kid flinched, Ryan turned and gave Sharon a look. At this, she took a deep breath, leaning against the wall. Sharon looked at Jewel apologetically.
"Didn't mean to yell at you, kid. I just…"
She sighed, deeply. A hint of a frustrated groan made its way through as well.
Ryan went over to pat her shoulder, somewhat consolingly, only for her to snap back to work, heading towards the basement door.
"Sharon—"
"I need to find them."
"Sharon," he began following after her, "I think it's time we report them missing."
She ignored him, waving her hand in dismissal as she continued to walk, "I'm not trusting a cop to find my family."
Walking through the dining room, Ryan reached for her again, only for her to walk away from him faster, "The first twenty-four hours of a missing persons case is the most important—"
"I'm not calling the police," she practically growled at him, "I can't count the amount of times the ones in Edwardsville've tried to screw us over. I don't trust 'em."
"It's your kids!"
"Exactly!"
She threw open the basement door, slamming it hard enough to shut the both of them up.
…
…
…
After their little staring contest was over, Sharon went to go down the stairs.
—only to run head first into three beings floating up it at full speed.
"AH—!" Sharon stumbled backwards, falling on her rear, as the three strange beings emerged. All looking vaguely jellyfish-like, one yellow, one pink, one blue. All of them arguing. Or, the yellow and pink ones arguing, while the blue one watched on in shock.
"WHY DID WE GO IN THERE?! THAT WAS AN AWFUL IDEA!"
"He's our father, Mary, and he's stuck!"
"Yeah, and then WE got stuck trying to help him!"
"So we shouldn't have tried to help our dad?!"
"YEAH, UNI! NOT WHEN WE WERE GONNA— c'mon, back me up here, Zeke!"
"…uh…"
"SEE! HE AGREES!"
They hadn't seemed to notice the two adults staring at them yet. Maybe because, in their bickering, Sharon was so utterly flabbergasted that she didn't know what to say.
What were these things doing in her basemen—
(Wait.)
((what did they call each other?))
She shot her gaze between the three of them, observing them imminently.
The pink one, Hands on her hips, a musical lilt to how she spoke. Exaggerated movements. No concept of an inside voice and a flair for the dramatic.
The yellow one. Questioning and precise. Her eyes were closed, and yet she still appeared somewhat reserved, like she was trying to constrain herself. Like she was trying to act like her big sister Alex, even when she wasn't here.
The blue one. He didn't speak very much, merely floating to the side. His eyes were shifty, avoiding eye-contact with anybody in particular. He still tried to look as confident as he could, despite this.
It was…
(Oh.)
(oh no)
…just too familiar.
"What are we even saying? We couldn't help our own dad, and now he's gonna collapse the house on uUUUUUUUUUUUU—"
"OOF!"
"EE"
With a noise akin to a squeaky toy, the three of them, without warning, found themselves being scooped up into the arms of a woman now six times taller than them. The strong embrace of a woman staring at the wall in shock, refusing to let go.
"HEY!" the pink one shouted, unawares, "HEY PUT ME D— d…"
Seeming to notice her current situation, she looked up. Her jaw dropped. She was… so much taller than she is now…
And it was Uni that spoke up.
"Mom?"
…
"You're OK."
She seemed breathless when she said that. There was a weight on her shoulders that was lifted, it felt like. For a moment, a timeless moment, she didn't even care, much less process, the inhumanity in her arms. She only heard that they were her kids, and that was all that mattered.
(They're not missing.)
(They're not missing, they're right here.)
"I…" Mary stammered, squiggling a bit. She was being manhandled a little too much for her tastes, "I wouldn't say we're necessarily OK, but—"
"I thought you were dead."
That seemed to shut Mary up, real quickly. All three of the triplets blanched at this, in fact, staring up at her, as she glanced at the wall.
A single tear rolled down her cheek.
But, she smiled.
Choking a laugh, she hugged them tighter, finally looking down at them, "Oh… oh I'm so happy! I'm just—!"
All three of them shrieked a bit, as she hugged them even tighter still, laughing all the way in pure elation. Before long, though, to their relief, she relented, looking down at them once more.
"I'm just so grateful you're alright!"
Oh.
Yeah, in my opinion, she shouldn't have said that.
The triplets, had they not been floating, would've fallen to the floor with their mother the moment her grip vanished. To the side, an already slack-jawed Ryan practically jumped as Sharon almost completely vanished from sight, pinning himself to a wall.
"Sharon?!"
"Mom?!"
But she wasn't gone. She didn't disappear. I said almost.
She just got much, much shorter. About as short as, well, her three children.
Splayed on the floor, sputtering in shock, the three Gigas triplets descended down to the floor, as a little green hedgehog with quills of grass blinked in confusion.
"Wh… huh?"
And, coming through to her house, from a swirling portal in her front yard, Alex closed her eyes in annoyance.
Oh, come on.