Chapter Text
Time is cruel to those who wait for it to be right. It's capable of passing through the stones blocking the flow of the river, cracks in the glass that let the cold wind in, and mourning dust that floats in the room, yet it stops its flow once it notices the audience. Clocks tick in silence, even when there's none to hear them chime, but the batteries only run out when there's someone around to replace them. Spiders spin their webs, papers rot, the world keeps spinning — they don't need permission to do so, but, Ender, does sometimes one wish for it to consider humans' feelings.
Does a grieving person care about the water damage that caused a huge moldy spot on their ceiling? Do they care about the stains on the carpet and the couch from machine oil spilling all over them? What about the rotting pasta on the ground that's fully covered with ants? They don't, do they? How can they care about the space they are filling, when they have nothing to fill their space from within themselves?
The world doesn't care about them either. It keeps spinning.
Parrot practically doesn't feel his fingers when he scoops up the pasta and the shards of the broken plate with his hand covered by trash bags. The smell doesn't fully reach him with how clogged his nose is. Maybe he's just gotten blind to the stink of the house, maybe he's gotten numb to everything happening around him. Parrot barely recognizes how he scrubs the oil spots off the carpet and the couch; he only realizes when he looks down at his fingers and notices that the skin has almost rubbed off them, leaving the flesh exposed and aching.
Parrot is standing in the middle of his kitchen, but he doesn't know what to do with himself. His arms flex at his sides, itching to do something in hopes of getting some type of feeling back. Eventually, Parrot turns to the sink and the incredible amount of dishes in it. He doesn't even remember where and when those came from; his numb mind is thankful for some distraction nevertheless.
The action of washing dishes is pleasurable in its easiness. Just apply some dish soap on the sponge and scrub the dish. The instruction is clear, providing minimum space to make mistakes. Parrot finds comfort in doing something this insignificant, despite the huge moldy spot on the ceiling still looming over him. He can ignore it further, even be delusional enough to brush over the possibility of that mold being the thing that drives him this insane. Only for a day more, he needs more time, another time, right time.
Mold isn't the only thing occupying the empty space of the house. The air is as thick with tension as ever, almost sharp enough to cut through Parrot's tissue and expose his brain to some sticky air. It would be helpful to him. Definitely. Especially with how quiet everything is. Even the rain stopped pouring, making way to the sun, whose presence became almost as unbearable in an hour.
The sunlight pours in the house easily, as though it owns the place. It could have, since none of the owners of the house seem to care about the house enough to take care of it — Parrot, with how destructive he got within it, and Wifies, because he didn't know how to care enough to allow himself to have a home.
Even now when Wifies is sitting on the couch, his shoulders slumped and the light gone from his eyes, he looks more like a guest than someone who lived in this house for more than a month. Parrot doesn't need to turn around to know that that's how he too looks right now. His good memory is his enemy — supplying him with all the memories he's had of Wifies in this house. The times when he thought that Wifies was content, but in reality he was bored out of his mind, flipping through the pages of the same books in hopes of finally finding something entertaining. Or how he would do the same puzzles multiple times over and over again, not because he actually liked them, but because he had nothing better to do.
How can a person live like this? In a house they aren't sure how to occupy? Parrot has no idea how long Wifies has been carrying that feeling of non-belonging inside, but it has to be long enough for resentment to build up. It has Parrot double-looking every interaction they've had. He's searching through his memories in cold detachment, wondering which moments were the crucial ones — when Wifies realized that he was playing a role of a dead friend instead of growing to be a real person.
At the end of the day, when everything is said and done, Parrot's best friend is buried under the rubble of Paragon. Whatever clone of him Parrot has found under the rubble of this house is just an imitation. Wifies might retrieve his memory, but he will never remember Parrot. He will never be him again.
And Parrot, who's never truly gotten over his death, doesn't know what to do with himself.
Now that the rose-colored glasses have shattered and the glass has poked Parrot in the eyes, he can see how ignorant he's been. Forcing a person — his friend — to be someone else and trapping them inside four walls and calling it a 'safe haven'? Sounds like someone familiar, Parrot thinks bitterly as the dish slips from his soapy hands and lands in the sink with a loud clink. It echoes against the walls of the empty house and lands on Parrot's deaf ears.
Suddenly, Parrot can't stand this house and everything it stands for — safety, healing, the hopes of mending a friendship that's beyond repair. Has always been, even before it was shattered like a spyglass against the cold pavement. Everything feels too much, as though the bare walls of the house are making fun of him and his pathetic self. They no longer feel merciful enough to entertain his delusions, shedding light on how fucked up the place he grew to love became. Nothing can save it now. Not when Parrot sees all the imperfections he was too blind to see and can't accept them.
He has to get out.
One second Parrot is standing before the sink, the next he's at the front door, slippery hands fumbling with the doorknob. When he finally rips the door open, the harsh sunlight hits him in the face, as though punishing him for getting out of his own version of the purgatory. It doesn't matter to Parrot — he can handle being burned alive under the cruel sun rather than slowly bleeding to death inside that house.
However, getting out doesn't bring him the expected joy. The opposite, actually. The second Parrot's eyes land on the wheat farm in front of the house, something inside his chest grows cold. The beautiful wheat that used to glow golden under the sun has drowned due to the continuous rain. Golden wheat is now gray, withered, just like everything in Parrot's perception. It's gone, beyond repair.
Parrot approaches the farm slowly to assess the damage. Too much water has gathered around the roots of the plants, probably suffocating them. They've been rotting this entire time — all of Wifies' effort in vain. There's no saving them. Parrot reaches out and gently touches wheat ears only to wrap his fingers around a couple of them and tug them out of the soil along with the roots. He brings the crop closer to his face, inspecting the darkened roots.
"Irrigation. In agri— agriculture it's the… watering. Yeah, but fake. Arti— eh, arti—"
"Artificial? Artificial."
"Yeah, that."
"No, say it with me,"
The memory invades Parrot's brain like a plague. He and Wifies are sitting in their living room, all homey and happy. The time moved slowly then, yet it feels like that moment happened years ago, not a few days ago. When they could sit in front of each other and exist in each other's presence without the experience turning painful.
"Artificial watering. When there is no rain."
"Yeah, we would do well without rain."
"Rain. Rain is good. For us. No need for artificial watering."
"Well, can't argue with that, can I?"
Rain is not good, apparently. Not for them, at least. It didn't water their friendship and allowed it to bloom. Instead it drowned it, until the roots started rotting and poisoning the rest of the plant.
The sound of the front door slamming shut rips Parrot out of his deranged state. All the feelings slam back into his body, and he can't contain the ragged gasp that leaves him. He lets go of the stems as though they burned his palm and instinctively presses a hand to his chest. His heart feels too frozen to be beating this fast, almost bursting out of his ribcage. Parrot takes a deep, anxious breath and turns to look in the direction of the house.
Wifies is sitting at the porch, his knees touching his chest and arms wrapped around them. His shoulders sink against the weight of something invisible yet heavy enough to bring him down; his hair is rustled and uncared for, but nothing even comes close to the horror of his damaged cheek, lacking skin. There's something tragic in the way he sits — too small to fit into his body, yet not big enough to fill the house with his presence. Or maybe he's the perfect size and it's Parrot who sees things disproportionally.
Wifies catches Parrot's stare and his gaze deepens. Whatever emotion passes over his face is unknown to Parrot, all he sees is the way the corner of his mouth twitches. Whether in disgust or in a sick and twisted smile, Parrot doesn't know. Either way, Wifies slowly raises his hand and waves it as a small sign of recognition. Parrot goes still for a second, surprised that Wifies is willing to even look at him, before the rest of the wheat falls onto the ground and Parrot waves back.
The action is small, but it wakes up new sensations in Parrot's palm first, then they grow further up his arm and the rest of his body. Parrot moves in slow-motion when he approaches the porch and sits down on the stairs next to Wifies — close enough to be considered 'hanging out together' but far enough to not even see each other from peripheral vision.
Parrot slowly turns his head to look at Wifies and immediately snaps his head back forward, when he catches Wifies already staring at him. Unlike Parrot, Wifies isn't scared to look at him, his gaze deep and curious in a scary way. The sun shines down on them, despite the shadow the house throws over them. Ahead of them is a ruined farm and a lake that shines bright under the sunlight. If Parrot and Wifies weren't as damaged as they were, they could take a nice swim there, enjoy the nature and life. But they are, and nothing can mend the damage Parrot has done.
"The farm is ruined," Wifies says, his voice surprisingly even but hollow, all emotions sucked out of him.
"Yeah," Parrot says, everything he wants to say gets stuck in his throat. "It is."
"We can't fix it," he continues. "It's beyond repair."
For whatever reason, Parrot takes Wifies' statement personally. It lands harshly on his tender heart and tugs until it bleeds. Parrot feels the sudden, irrational urge to defend himself, defend the farm he himself deemed unfixable a second ago.
"It's not," Parrot says with a frown. "I can fix it."
"Really?" Wifies asks with a small huff. "And how will you?"
It takes only a moment for Parrot to form a proper plan. "I will drain all the water, remove dead plants and plant new seeds. Nothing difficult about that."
"Really?" Wifies repeats. "But will it be the same farm if you replace every crop?"
"Yes? What kind of question is that?" Parrot questions and turns to look at Wifies. "You replace the crops every time during the harvest. I don't think there's a single piece of original wheat left on this farm. How is me replacing something rotten and you replacing something already ripe any different?"
"There's a difference, Parrot," Wifies says while looking him up and down. "It's a shame you don't see it."
"Oh, really?" Parrot mimics him, forcing out a laugh. "What is the difference then? Enlighten me, Wifies."
They fall quiet, only the jungle around them makes some noise and forbids them to drown in silence. Parrot looks away from him the second it becomes too painful to do so. He'd rather stare at the blinding sun than Wifies — at least that star in the sky will save his bleeding heart.
Eventually, Wifies starts speaking again. "You could cut the rotten parts of roots," he answers. "Repot the plant. Make sure it has enough sunlight and is in dry soil."
"You haven't answered my question, though," Parrot brushes his answer off. "What is the difference between you and me?"
"Or you could just use the ruined plants as a fertilizer for other plants. You don't need to throw them out like that," he keeps going, ignoring Parrot completely despite looking right at him. "Or there could be some that survived the rain. Maybe some of the wheat was sturdier than the rest, who knows."
"Wifies, answer my question," Parrot grits out. "Plus, this is wheat we're talking about. Not some — I don't know? — torchflower, or something. Why would you go through all that for some wheat?"
"What, do you think that wheat is less deserving of saving? That it's not worth the effort?"
"That's not what I'm saying, Wifies. I'm asking, what's the difference between you and me."
Wifies shakes his head, placing his cheek on his knees to stare at Parrot through his bangs constricting his view. "I thought of fixing it. You thought of replacing it. That's the difference."
"What?" Parrot is taken aback by his statement. "Have you ever considered that me replacing the rotten parts is my way of fixing it?"
"Have you ever considered that it's not considered fixing if you give up on something and move on to another thing to fix?"
"I don't do that."
"But you do, Parrot," Wifies lets out an empty laugh. "You do."
The silence that stretches between them is so thick you can cut it with a sword, yet it doesn't bring Parrot any horror, agitation, or anger. If anything, their little 'debate' has sucked the rest of the energy out of Parrot, leaving him an empty, numb shell. Funnily enough, in a state as deranged as this, Parrot feels like he's on the same ground with Wifies — both of them confused at the vast, broken world before them, but instead they focus on a friendship that means nothing in the grand scheme of things.
Parrot has so much he should worry about — not fixing anything, maybe try focusing on himself and the kingdom he will have to save — yet he fails to even see what's ahead of him, beside him. He blinks once and Wifies' silhouette grows blurry. Parrot doesn't know why until he feels wetness on his cheeks. At first he assumes that it's sweat from all the work he's been doing throughout the day and under the sun, but when his palm moves to wipe it off his forehead only to find it dry, he frowns. His hand moves lower down his face, to his cheeks. A droplet slides to his upper lip and he can't help but lick it away, his throat constricting at the salty taste.
Oh, he's crying.
That's when he feels it — the numbness in his chest is just tension waiting to snap, the stinging of his eyes and how they ache to close, and the pounding headache rendering him useless. Parrot opens his mouth only to choke on a sob that never really leaves his throat. It gets stuck somewhere, leaving a huge lump in his airflow.
He can't breathe. Parrot puts a hand on his throat and turns away from Wifies — even in his current state he can't show Wifies how… how unstable he truly is. How shameful, Parrot thinks bitterly, breathing heavily, how can one fix someone else when they themselves aren't 'fixed'. The tears roll down his face. Whenever they reach his lips Parrot licks them away, getting drunk on a bitter taste full of desperation. Something in his screams that it's poison, that he shouldn't keep going, but he barely hears his own thoughts, let alone someone else.
Suddenly, Parrot feels a small touch against his shoulder, so tender and like out of this world. It brings back some feeling to his body, like an ink spreading across the water — too small to cause any real change, but enough to ripple the water. Parrot slowly turns back to Wifies and looks down on his shoulder. Wifies has moved a bit closer, still with his knees to his chest and one hand around them, but he extended his free arm to poke Parrot in the shoulder with his pointer finger. An action so soft and pointless it almost makes Parrot let out an empty, wet laugh.
"You're crying," Wifies states, some lively curiosity bleeding back into his voice. "You're sad."
Parrot lets out another laugh, this time giddier for whatever reason. He feels lighter, still poisoned and drunk on his own misery, but light nonetheless. As though the compressed tension in his chest has unraveled the tiniest bit, but it was enough to move a huge boulder from a sore spot, even if for a fraction of a second.
"Yeah," Parrot says, his lips stretching in a shaky smile. "I guess I am."
Wifies looks at Parrot like it's the first time he's seen him. Some life crawls back into his eyes and his mouth opens ever so slightly. He moves then, his knees hitting the wooden planks of the porch as Wifies slowly crawls to him. Wifies raises his hand to Parrot's cheek, wiping one tear track off it. Parrot can't help but lean into the soothing, cooling touch; he closes his eyes in full bliss and lets out a shuddering exhale.
"I think I used to cry too," Wifies whispers, his thumb moving to Parrot's eyelid. "A long time ago."
"Really?" Parrot asks, his voice weak and quiet. "When? How?"
Wifies doesn't respond for some time, enough to make Parrot worry. He opens his eye that's not constricted by Wifies' thumb and goes still at the fascinated look on Wifies' face. When Wifies catches him staring, he smiles weakly and moves his other thumb to cover Parrot's other eyelid as well.
"I don't fully remember everything about it," Wifies continues, still in a hushed whisper. "It was cold, so cold. I don't think I can even experience coldness the way I did back then. But I remember I felt so cold. Both from the outside and inside. And I was crying. The tears were warming my cheeks."
Parrot's heart sinks at the realization of which memory Wifies is talking about. He swallows the lump in his throat and asks, "Why were you crying?"
Wifies hums, thinking over an answer for a second. His speech has gone better, maybe Ken has done something to his speech box. Maybe his shutdown has done him good. "I think it was because of you."
"Because of me?"
"Yeah, because of you."
He goes quiet for a moment, and Parrot tries not to push him. Parrot knows exactly what Wifies is talking about, he knows the exact memory, the exact moment, the pain it caused to both of them. He just has never thought that he would experience that event from Wifies' point of view.
Eventually, Wifies starts speaking again.
"You were standing in front of me, you looked scared. Of me? For me?"
"For you," Parrot whispers immediately, not wanting Wifies to even doubt him. "Never of you."
"For me," he hums again. "It was snowing. So cold. I think someone else was there too, but I don't remember looking at them. Only you and your face and how I was crying." After a beat of silence passes, he adds, almost reluctantly, "This is the only memory I have that's from the first person point of view. Others are usually from the sidelines."
The confession leaves him breathless; Parrot can almost feel the puffs of air hit his face. He moves away slightly and touches Wifies' wrists to tug his hands off his face. Parrot opens his eyes to stare at Wifies, but now it's Wifies who seems to be shying away from him. He's staring at the ruined farm, his eyes wide as though he's just seen the destruction.
"I want to go back there," he says and his voice breaks in the end. Wifies shakes his head and turns back to face Parrot. "Cold. I want that cold."
"What? Why?"
Wifies shakes his head again, but more violently this time, as though trying to shake some annoying thought off his brain. "I just… I just feel like I need to be there. That cold. I need it."
"Why that place specifically?" Parrot asks, confused. "It's obvious that that place has hurt you. So why go back to where it hurts?"
Frankly, Parrot would rather face Flame himself in a duel, become king Saparata's personal jester, move to the Farlands and never see the main server, than ever go back to that snowy cabin — go back to the place where he last saw his best friend. That memory is old, yet it has left such a deep wound it has never truly had a chance to heal. Even the thought of it, of standing in the same spot where Wifies last stood before he 'fell into the void', is sickening. Parrot doesn't think he can go to any cold biome without dark memories flooding his brain and eating away at his soul.
However, at the same time, Parrot remembers their argument, remembers Wifies' desperate face, and how Parrot thought that the entire thing was pointless. They are here, at this point of no return, because Parrot has thought of himself as higher than he is actually. In reality, Parrot is no hero, he's no doctor, or a fixer. He's just a guy — some dude that wished to have his best friend back so desperately, he lied, and lied, and lied, until the foundation of their friendship was nothing but a web of lies, and that doesn't usually last long. It didn't last with them either.
As much as Parrot wants Wifies back, he wants him happy. He wants not that artificial happiness that was just an illusion created by rose-colored glasses, but a real one. Something almost tangible, like their quiet evenings together, going out to the city just because, and enjoying each other's company without it resulting in an argument.
Parrot wants Wifies free, and if that freedom comes at the cost of Parrot giving up his peace of mind, then so be it. After everything he's put Wifies through, he can handle a day or two of discomfort in a house that no longer belongs to him, if that means that Wifies would feel somewhat happy, in his place.
So Parrot gets up, even if his legs protest. He pulls Wifies up with him, his hands never leaving Wifies' wrist. They stand like this for what seems like hours, bathing in sunlight for the last time before escaping back into the house. It feels better now — existing in an open view with gentle rays of sunlight kissing Parrot's face. The coldness he was so scared of doesn't scare him as much anymore, if he's confident in the sun's presence for when he returns.
It's going to be fine. It is fine, Parrot thinks, smiling widely at Wifies. Tears have dried on his face and they tug on his skin uncomfortably, yet Parrot has half a mind to pay them any attention. He's too busy soaking in the sun's warmth and his best friend's presence — one he's never recognized until now, one he's so curious to know.
"We need to prepare some warm clothes then," Parrot says, and his grin almost splits his face in half from how bright Wifies begins to shine.
***
The cabin in the snowy biome is still the same after all the time Parrot has spent away from it. No one ever wanders out so deep into a biome like this — even if they do, they don't survive for long, if all the frozen bodies they've found on the way here are any indicator — so the cabin stands untouched by people, in a fine state. Its roof is covered by layers and layers of snow, so is the front porch, preventing any entry, as though pushing visitors away from it.
Parrot wraps his coat tighter around himself, shivering from head to toe. Whether it's the obviously cold weather or the realization of what place he's visiting causing the shiver Parrot doesn't know. What he knows is that he's cold, freezing his ass off while Wifies doesn't look at all bothered. Snowflakes land on his hair and Parrot reaches out to tug a hood over Wifies' head, which Wifies constantly brushes off, saying that he 'enjoys the cold'. Parrot shuts him up each time. Neither know how the cold weather affects Wifies' robotic body and Parrot isn't thrilled to find out.
Being in this place is already hard enough. Parrot tries his best not to look at the exact same spot where Wifies stood before he teleported away and 'fell into the void'. Despite Parrot knowing the truth now, that Wifies merely faked his death to 'protect' Parrot in some sick, twisted way, it doesn't stop the hurt from blooming in Parrot's chest even after all this time. His eyes drift towards that spot, the thick layer of snow covering it, yet Parrot can almost see Wifies — or whoever was playing his role — standing small and frail behind Ash, shaking his head in a futile attempt to tell Parrot something.
To this day Parrot wonders whether that was the moment Wifies gave up on his humanity and became The Director, or whether he truly felt the same horror as Parrot did.
"How do we get inside?" Wifies asks, annoyingly even.
"Ender knows," Parrot answers, his teeth clattering against each other.
Wifies sends him an unimpressed glare, before shuffling closer, taking off his heavy coat and throwing it over Parrot's shoulders. Parrot tries to fight it, but gives up at Wifies' threatening hiss and succumbs to the additional warmth. Meanwhile Wifies walks closer to the place where the door should be and equips a shovel from his inventory. Parrot doesn't know where and when he got it, but decides not to question it. instead, he hugs himself around the shoulders and waits for Wifies to dig them a small way into the house.
It takes a couple of minutes of Wifies clearing out the snow and throwing it somewhere behind himself, being mindful of Parrot's position so as not to throw it on his head, which Parrot greatly appreciates. Eventually, he clears out a small way to the front door and doesn't spend too long thinking before opening the front door. Its hinges protest loudly, the wind carrying the screeching noise over the entire biome. Parrot slightly cringes at the dramatic sound and quickly walks toward the entrance. Wifies steps away from it, allowing Parrot to step inside first.
The inside hasn't changed much, except for the dust, cobwebs, and the specific scent of an old house filling the space. Everything is the same as Parrot left it in a rush; even the opened chests with multiple items spilling over the edges haven't changed. The only unusual thing is the absence of a dog, which Parrot thought belonged to him, but was just a part of Wifies' plan of fooling him. Parrot can only hope that the dog ran away and found itself a better life than starving in a forgotten house in the middle of nowhere.
"Looks… boring," Wifies says, closing the door behind himself. He walks over Parrot and moves to the fireplace and the single couch. "You had nowhere to sleep?"
Parrot shrugs, although the question makes him quite uncomfortable. "I slept on the couch, Wifies—" Parrot stumbles all over his words, but quickly catches himself. "You were never comfortable with sleeping during that time, so you usually sat and took watch."
"Huh," Wifies doesn't seem to notice Parrot's slip up, or he just decides to ignore it. "Interesting."
"Not really," Parrot says, walking deeper into the cabin. He sits down on the extremely stiff couch and his back whines in a traumatized protest, probably remembering all the nights he's slept on it. "That time was hard. We barely even had each other."
Parrot allows his eyes to explore the emptiness of the cabin. It really does look boring, with only a couch, a fireplace, a torn red carpet, and some chests and ovens scattered around the corners. More of a survival shelter, than a place anyone would call a home. No bed, because Parrot was deathly terrified of setting his spawnpoint anywhere. Nothing to connect back to either Parrot nor Wifies, because Parrot was scared that anyone would find them. Which was a futile effort — they got easily found in a week or so.
The last time Parrot was here — in this house, in this biome — he was too afraid and high on adrenaline to even think about how sad the entire place looks. He remembers how The Director's hand was gripping his wrist and showing him off the dull interior, as though Parrot wasn't the one who's built this place with his own bare, shaky hands. But he doesn't remember this place lacking a soul. Maybe both him and Wifies were so down and desperate, they didn't have enough energy to make this house a proper home. Maybe because they've never truly had the chance to.
Meanwhile, Wifies has lit the fireplace up. Parrot immediately relaxes at the sound of wood burning and takes Wifies' coat off his shoulders, throwing it over the couch's armrest. He then takes his coat off as well, placing it on his lap. His shoulders sink into the small warmth the fireplace provides. It's not enough to fully wipe off his trembles, but it's getting there.
Wifies sits on the couch as well, with his back leaning against the opposite armrest and legs stretched out until they reach Parrot's lap. Parrot only huffs out a laugh and half-heartedly throws Wifies' legs off himself.
"You've never answered my question," Parrot says, playing with a loose thread on his coat. "Why did you want to visit this place exactly? Surely, there are other places you remember that we could visit."
Wifies mumbles something unintelligible, placing his cheek on his bent knees and staring at the front door.
"I didn't hear that."
Wifies sends him a disgruntled look, before rolling his eyes and saying, "I saw this place in my… 'dreams'? Memories? Whatever they are."
"Really?" Parrot asks. "Is that how you remembered crying?"
"Yeah," Wifies nods. "I guess you could say I was curious about the… nature of this place? Is this the right phrase to use?"
"It depends on what you mean by that."
Wifies goes quiet, looking up in thought. Despite Parrot's curiosity, he decides to leave him be for now, content where he is. Surprisingly, the place that caused him so much pain and horror doesn't bother him as much anymore. If anything, he feels calm, as though the storm in his chest finally found a place it could stop its raging, if only for a moment. Parrot thought that even seeing this cabin in the distance would undo all the nonexistent healing he's done, yet nothing happens. He sits here, expecting tears, fears, everything to collapse on him and choke him to death, but all he feels is a weird sensation of content and something soft settling in his head, soothing his constantly running brain.
"Why do we always talk?" Wifies says unexpectedly. "We always talk, talk, and talk, but we never do anything together."
"Excuse me?" Parrot lets out a small laugh, looking Wifies up and down. "What do you mean by that?"
"I meant what I meant," he says. "I feel all we do is talk. Except for the time when we visited the city. We never do anything together."
"Oh?" Parrot can't help the smile stretching on his face. "So you want to do something with me?" At Wifies' nod, he smiles even wider. "Okay then, what do you want to do in the literal middle of nowhere?"
Without a second thought, Wifies rolls off the couch with a loud bang. Parrot sits up, worry filling him when Wifies at first doesn't bother to get up. But he rolls his eyes when Wifies recovers and shows him a 'thumbs-up'. Wifies sits up on the red carpet and takes out two objects from his inventory. Upon seeing them, Parrot rolls his eyes even harder, his smile turning slightly exasperated.
"Seriously? You brought freaking puzzles all the way here?"
"Yeah."
"And we couldn't do them back at home?"
"Nope."
"Was this your plan since the very beginning?"
"Yep," Wifies nods his head, the motion looking way too animated and almost comedic. "I thought that doing puzzles together was a very nice bonding moment. And we, very clearly, need that."
Parrot laughs again, this time hard enough to make him tear up. Or maybe it's the innocence in Wifies' request that brings him to tears. Either way, Parrot shoves his coat off his lap and slides off the couch, his knees touching the rough surface of the carpet, and crawls to sit in front of Wifies. Wifies seems to be very happy at Parrot's agreement, and raises two boxes with colorful pictures on both of them. One of the boxes has the forest print on it, while the other — space.
"Which one?" Wifies asks him. "The lush forest during the morning, or the vast cosmos during the… something. I don't know."
"Haven't you done them like a thousand times already?" Parrot says with an arch of his eyebrow.
"Well, it's not like I have access to the new ones."
"How did you even get them in the first place?"
"Well," Wifies drawls. "I found the forest one in my Ender chest. And the space one was a gift from Wato."
The explanation, unfortunately, makes sense. Parrot can't argue with that. Instead, he looks at both the puzzles and thinks over his decision. Although Wifies' offer to bond over doing puzzles is incredibly cute, there's something cruel about making Wifies do something he always does already, just together. There will be nothing entertaining, nothing new about it.
Until an idea pops into Parrot's brain.
"What if we did both puzzles?" he proposes.
Wifies blinks at him. "I guess we have enough time for that," he nods slowly, though his face falls a bit for some reason. "Which one first?"
"No, I meant both puzzles at the same time," Parrot explains. "Like, we mix the pieces and collect them together. Whatever pieces fit, we fit them, regardless of which puzzle they are from."
A moment of silence passes between them. "What…?"
"Come on, Wifies," Parrot says and practically rips the boxes out of Wifies' hands. He opens them and spills the colorful pieces on the carpet, mixing them. "It's going to be fun, trust me bro."
With that, Parrot starts collecting the pieces based on the vibes rather than the theme. If a puzzle piece with a grass print on it looks pretty with a star, then he's going to connect them. If not, then he won't even bother. At first Wifies just stares at him, but then he joins in as well. He seems unsure, hands visibly itching to connect the right puzzle pieces, but eventually he finds the courage to do what he wants.
The moment they share feels nice — doing puzzles together in complete silence interrupted only by the sound of the fireplace and the wind outside. They don't need to talk to have fun — it's entertaining on its own. Sometimes they both reach for the same puzzle piece, sometimes they connect the pieces they've already combined, sometimes they just play with the heap of puzzles like sand. Parrot would have never thought that he'd find something like this fun.
Who knew that just sitting together and existing in the same space could be this soft and entertaining? They don't need loud laughter, funny stories of the past, or some complicated activity to find the time they spend together enjoyable. Briefly, Parrot wishes he could preserve this memory in a snow globe to shake it occasionally and see the ghosts of them existing together again. Keep it safe inside his Ender chest and remember this day when either of them eventually fucks up. Because they most definitely will, and who knows if their friendship will survive another disaster.
"This is fun," is the only thing Wifies says.
"Yeah," Parrot agrees. "It really is."
And they fall quiet again.
Eventually, they finish up. Some pieces are left without a pair, but they decide to sprinkle them around the edges like the picture is dissolving. The picture itself doesn't make sense — a tree is interrupted by the purple sky, the green grass has stars popping between it, and the space has the regular looking sun in the corner. However, despite the messy edges of the puzzle, despite the nonsense they created, they can't stop staring at the masterpiece before them.
A mess of green and purple stares back at them.
And maybe they are a mess too, and that's alright.
"I wanted to come here because this place always looks different in all my memories," Wifies confesses softly, his finger gently caressing the green parts of the picture. "Sometimes it's so gray, I wonder if the world even had any color. Sometimes it's normal-looking, but there's definitely something wrong with it, I just can't see what. Sometimes it's dull, but," he stops, looks up at Parrot, his eyes burning with something vulnerable, "you're the only saturated thing there."
Parrot doesn't know how to respond, so he doesn't. Instead, he traces the edges of the purple puzzle pieces, his finger occasionally grazing Wifies'.
"I always think about him, you know," Wifies keeps going. "About your Wifies."
Parrot doesn't flinch at that, but he does freeze. I thought you didn't want to talk, his mind screams, I thought you wanted to enjoy my company without anything bringing the mood down.
"I remember Ken, and I remember Wato. And I remember your Wifies like he was a real person, and not another me. I remember you too, obviously. And I remember how you always cared for both me and him, and sometimes I grow so jealous of him, of me."
Wifies looks away, eyes drifting towards the puzzle, where his and Parrot's pointer fingers touch.
"I'm so jealous that he got to experience you to the fullest, and I don't get to do that," he hangs his head, as though in shame, but doesn't stop. "Sometimes I remember The Director too. He's always in this cabin in my memories. And it's not one memory. He used to visit this place a lot."
That rips Parrot out of his shock, but immediately sends him into another one, the deeper one. "What?"
"Yeah," Wifies hums, still avoiding Parrot's eyes. "He was always here before he died. I think he was lonely. Maybe that's why he— I had the forest puzzle in my Ender chest."
Parrot takes a deep breath, trying to will the anxiety away from his chest. It shouldn't matter to him what The Director has felt, especially if it's loneliness of all things. That man trapped Parrot in a cage, bound his wings, and called it freedom — there shouldn't be any mercy for him, at least not from Parrot.
Yet some part of him — the one that still prayed that his Wifies was still somewhere there, under the cold play The Director used to put on — aches at the revelation. If he used to visit this cabin, then that has to mean something, right? Maybe The Director — his Wifies — has regained a part of his humanity back, only to leave it behind again. Did he sit on this sofa and do his puzzles, imagining Parrot sleeping on the couch? Or did he visit this place to reminisce about the days they've spent together?
Those thoughts are dangerous, they crack open Parrot's ribcage and reveal the ugly truth Parrot has been hiding this entire time. Hiding in plain sight, somewhere where Parrot looked every day, but didn't really pay attention, because he knew. He knew that revealing the truth once would result in him coming back to it over and over again, until it left a scar on his brain tissue and broke him forever.
The truth that despite the hurt, the fear, and every scar left on his body, he misses Wifies.
Parrot misses Wifies.
Misses him like one would miss their collapsed lung. Misses him like an old man misses his past adventures with long dead companions. Misses him like he's the only star shining in the night sky — his only hope to get back home safely. Misses him like he's someone that absolutely cannot be replaced by anything, anyone, even another version of him.
Parrot has never stopped to think about how much he misses Wifies, and how huge of a gap his absence left in his heart. Every adventure they had, every argument, every laugh. Every piece of fish they shared, every riddle they argued over, every plant they planted. Every little thing. Parrot misses them all. Misses them more than anything.
Only now, after the years have passed, after the wars have waged and people have been killed over and over again, does Parrot understand that Wifies is dead. It took so long, but eventually the understanding came crashing onto him, embracing him softly like only a best friend could.
They will never see each other again. Escape from a dangerous situation together in a narrow tunnel. Collect flowers for Wifies' house. Laugh at Wemmbu's dumb jokes. Curse Spoke out for no reason. Parrot will never get to introduce Theo to Wifies as his other best friend. Parrot will never see how radiant Wifies looks with a sunrise highlighting his features.
Wifies is dead. Truly dead. Has been for the longest time.
And Parrot understood it only now.
"Can you tell me about him?" Wifies whispers, yet his words echo against the walls of Parrot's skull like a scream. "About your Wifies?"
There's so much to tell, so Parrot says nothing. He just opens his mouth uselessly, nothing coming to mind. Eventually he settles on the dumbest thing ever and decides to roll with that.
"He was so stupid," Parrot says, his voice wet and sticky. He shakes his head and lets out a weak laugh that sounds more like his soul leaving his body. "How could someone be this stupid and smart at the same the time?
I remember that one time we were fishing and he was so convinced that he was going to catch the biggest fish ever. Result: his hook got stuck between rocks and he pulled the rod so hard that he snapped the string, fell over and almost cracked his skull open. I didn't know he was a robot then, I just thought he had a tough bone, you know?"
Parrot laughs at the memory and how easily it floats before his eyes.
"He was kind, so kind. Before everything went to shit. I wonder whether I was the reason he became the way he is, or was The Mafia. He was so hopeful throughout all of it though, with his 'beacons of hope' and shit. Sometimes it's so hard to think that that person became The Director. And I'm the one to blame.
He would always tell me random facts. Joke unfunny jokes. Do stupid stuff. And I have never said how much I appreciated him being an idiot. You know? Even if he was an idiot, he was my idiot. And I don't need any other idiot. Just him. My idiot."
For a moment, in Parrot's delusional state of mind, the Wifies in front of him turns into his Wifies. The same one who used to be Parrot's best friend. The same one Parrot misses more than anything. Surprisingly, he doesn't feel relief upon seeing him. Only dread at the realization that this is their final goodbye.
"I miss you so much," Parrot whispers to his Wifies, who only smiles at him. The fireplace behind him almost resembles the sunrise of the day they first met. Same orange hue embracing Wifies' form and the same smile softening his features. "I miss you more than anything. I wish you were here. I wish you never left. I wish it could be the two of us against the world too."
He chokes on his words, yet doesn't look away from Wifies. Can't.
"I wish I could tell you that. About how much I miss you. And all the adventures I've been through without you. I'm sure they would be funnier with you by my side.
I really am sorry if I've ever been a reason for your struggle. And I'm so sorry that I'm the reason why you've been dragged into all this mess. But if I could go back in time, knowing that I'm incapable of changing the past, I would gladly repeat every step of our friendship. I would go through the Paragon over and over again, if it meant reliving those earlier moments of our friendship.
You have always been a good friend. I'm so sorry for not being one to you. Thank you for being my friend. And I'm so sorry that I was your friend."
The silence stretches over Parrot and the ghost of Wifies longer than it should have, but the next time Parrot has to blink away his tears, he's back in reality. The fireplace has died, the sunrise is gone, and only this new version of Wifies is sitting in front of him.
Ever so slowly, Wifies sits up on his knees and crawls towards Parrot, messing up the puzzle between them in the process. Without saying another word, he wraps his arms around Parrot's shoulders and brings him closer, burying Parrot's face in his own shoulder. Parrot surrenders to the touch and closes his eyes, shutting off his mind as well in the process.
For the first time ever, Parrot doesn't try to pretend which version of Wifies is touching him.