Chapter Text
“Multiple times now in these adventures, I have been alone . And you two have charged at a thing and dived in the water and I have been left alone -” he breathes this out, like a confession.
Devo isn’t used to… needing people, he thinks. Well, better said, he is overly comfortable, overly expectant, of acting on his own. Don’t ask for help, don’t hold on, and don’t trust too easily - these are things he’s learned difficultly. And yet, these people, they are blunt and forgiving. Amber will never sugarcoat something for him, but she will be there to squeeze his shoulder, and Zoox does not work well on a team, but he will always forgive him if he asks. Devo hasn’t known them for long, and yet he feels as though they are slipping away. The moment you want someone is the moment you realize it will hurt more to lose them, and Devo can’t stand that.
This give and take that is friendship, that is family, it’s not something he’s used to. Too often growing up Devo needed to be perfect, he was not forgiven for his flaws, and yet was expected to forgive his peers of theirs.
He wishes there was a rule book for this.
“Well, the way I grew up, you don’t expect much better than this,” Amber says. Which for her, Devo thinks, must be true, but why did it have to be? Why does it have to be unfair? Zoox nods, and there is part of his acceptance that frustrates Devo, because Zoox should not know, he should be angry too.
“You two keep getting hurt, and I don’t like this. I- I am invested in you in a way I have not been before with anybody , and I don’t like when you get hurt and I want to be able to keep you safe and protect you, but you don’t listen , and I-”
Amber reaches a hand forward and places it on Devo’s shoulder, placing another on Zoox’s. He notices that she’s trembling, just slightly, but doesn’t comment, can’t stand the idea of bothering them more.
“Alright there, it’s okay. We’re okay, and we’re gonna keep bein’ okay,” she smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
_
“For how long?” Devotion asks.
The room is darkly lit and sparse. Devotion has been here before, but never for these reasons. He’s seen kids, his classmates, sent there if they said something sinful or blasphemous, but never him. He doesn’t know what he said.
The Hand of Guidance looks at him and smiles, “Until you learn, Devotion. Don’t worry all little boys go through this.”
He makes a faint attempt to grasp for her hand, but she turns and then leaves. He is alone.
The first couple of hours are the worst. He isn’t sure what he did wrong, too young to question the church’s authority, but too old to cry out for help. He sits in the dark, knobbly knees brought up to his chin, and he prays.
He isn’t sure to who, for all the church teaches, “God” is still something as mythical as oak trees and bright sunshine. They exist, he’s sure of it, but he isn’t sure how or when or why or… or anything. He does know that he’s done something terribly wrong though. Something blasphemous, something sinful, but he doesn’t know what.
God doesn’t answer.
If he wasn’t alone maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, he thinks. If he wasn’t so alone , so desolate. If only Guidance was there to hold his hand, to explain to him what he did wrong, how to fix it how to make everything better how to -
He’s panicking. Devotion realizes this distantly as if watching it from yards away. He feels himself choke, somewhere deep within his chest. He can’t breathe.
Then there’s the water.
The water is all around him, rising up past his knees to his jawline. He stands, but he isn’t tall enough. It’s coming up all around him and for a moment he’s grateful. Somebody will surely come save him, he won’t be alone for much longer.
The water is in his mouth now. Salty and spiteful.
Before he knows, the water is too high and he is sinking quickly. He kicks desperately at something that isn’t there, and to his surprise, he feels resistance. A hand on his ankle, pulling him down under.
It shakes him harder.
Devo
He tries to swim up and away -
Devo
Devo wake up!
_
He awakes with a start, gasping deep and full. He is sitting at the helm of the ship, one foot slung over the armrest. Zoox is holding the end of his boot looking somehow shocked.
“Bad dream or… should I get my crossbow?” Zoox says more than asks, letting go of his boot.
“Yes,” Devo says. “I believe the answer is yes.”
Zoox tilts his head, “To the dream or the crossbow?”
“Yes,” Devo says with a half-smile, looking tired. He shakes himself a little, sitting properly in the helm, twisting to see Zoox. “How was your talk with Tesselation?”
Zoox looks away for a moment. “It was- well, let’s just say I have more questions.”
Devo nods, “That is understandable.” Then he pauses, “Zoox do you, do you lament the loss of remembering life on land?”
Zoox looks taken aback for a moment, maybe thinking about it for the first time. “Well, do you?”
Devo shakes his head to say no, but stops. “I wish to say that I cannot miss something I did not know, but. Sometimes I wonder, you know?”
“I don’t,” says Zoox. “I have nothing to compare it to. Would knowing it change me, you think?”
Devo stops to think before answering. “There is a lot I wish I did not remember, real or nightmare,” he laughs quietly, “but they do shape me. Maybe in the same way that the lack of it, shapes you . Food for thought, yes?”
“Maybe,” Zoox considers. He taps the edge of Devo’s chair a couple times and then turns to walk away, “I’m gonna go to the moon pool, but go drink a juice box or something alright? I want this to be fun for you, and I know Amber does too.”