Chapter Text
It’s been a few years.
You’re at a Waffle House after a movie. A random weeknight means fewer people, both in the theater and at the restaurant. You’re not seeing a lot of people day-to-day between working from home and your significant others being… elsewhere. But you still have no desire to contract The Rona if you can help it.
It’s become a routine for the three of you: one of you goes to some form of entertainment—be it a movie, a concert, a stage performance—and then the three of you discuss it over a meal. You usually end up at the Waffle House since it’s one of the few places you can think of that’s acceptable to eat at alone.
At least, visibly alone.
You’re halfway through your waffle when a pair of people walk in. A man and a woman, both African-American. The man walks to a booth; the woman glides behind him, steadfastly keeping her hands in her coat pockets.
You give a friendly nod from your place at the bar, and they return it.
And you turn back to your meal and the discussion.
At least… until you overhear the man say “she handled visitors from multiple worlds like it was nothing.”
The woman puts her fork down. “She was genuinely freaked out.”
The man nods. “True, she was. So it wasn’t nothing. But she did handle it, which is more than I can say for anyone else.”
The woman starts to pick her fork back up, but her arm twitches in a strange way and she drops it onto the floor. “Stupid arms,” she mutters.
You focus back on your food. But Red and Green and you are buzzing with excitement.
It takes you a few minutes to figure out how to approach them, but once you’ve paid your check you walk over to their booth.
“Excuse me,” you say, putting on your broadest, non-threatening smile, “couldn’t help but overhear. Are you from out of town?”
“Yeah,” the woman says quickly. “We’re from…”
“Alabama,” the man fills in. It’s a deflection, and you both know it.
You nod and turn back to the woman. “Do your friends in… Alabama… have trouble with their arms too?” You catch a flash of something—either fight or flight—in her face and press on quickly. “I only ask because I’ve got a friend that’s a world away, and their arm hair is so thick they end up preening it like a bird.”
You turn to the man. “Or my other friend who can only wear the most loose-fitting pants or else it‘ll irritate their leg hair.”
The woman looks ready to burst out laughing, but the man just raises an eyebrow. “Where did you say your friends were?”
You stare down the man, silently begging him to understand. “A whole world away,” you say softly. “I’ve never been able to travel to them, but they’re my best friends.
“Anyway!” You say at a more normal volume. “I don’t know where you’re headed, but if you need someplace to stay the night I’ve got a couple of guest rooms.”
You braced yourself for an awkward send-off. At which point you would wave good-bye, leave, and not come back to this Waffle House for at least three months. Maybe ever.
Instead, the man smiles. “Actually, if you have a place we’d love that.”
Their names are Richard and Dana, and they’re pretty cool.
You leave them in your living room while you grab some drinks from the kitchen. While you’re in there, you ask them, directly, if they’ve been to other worlds.
“Absolutely,” Richard says. “We’re actually building a place in an in-between space for people traveling around different worlds.”
You try to calm your racing heart and ask, if you described it, could they get to a particular world?
“Depends on the world; I don’t know all of them off the top of my head, but we’ve got a list back at the Lighthouse of all of the ones we know of. And if it’s not on that list, we can keep an eye out. What are you looking for?”
You describe Green’s world first as you set the drinks on the coffee table. It’s the easiest to put into a sentence: everyone can fly.
Richard isn’t sure, but Dana chimes in instantly. “It literally just came in last week. Sam is freaking out in the best way.”
You feel your pulse rise. Green is in shock, and Red is beside themselves with anticipation. You describe their world: fawns, minotaurs, the occasional pegasus.
They aren’t sure.
Red starts feeding you information about the other continents and their residents. The kirin. The dwarves. The elves—
“Wait, Melodia? Is the name of the elven kingdom Melodia?”
Red is pretty sure it is.
Richard smiles. “They’re actually helping us a whole lot. They were the first world we—or really just I—went to.”
Afraid to get your hopes up, you ask how difficult it would be to meet up with someone from each of those worlds.
Richard shrugged. “As long as they can get to the portal in their world, not difficult at all. We’ve got a lot of rooms around the Lighthouse, food—well, we’re working on better food, but yeah, as long as they can get to Nowhere, it should work.”
You want to believe. But you’re afraid to. You’re all afraid to. Desperate to find out what the catch is, what dealbreaker must be hiding in the shadows, you ask what the risks are.
Richard leans back to consider the question, but Dana jumps in. “Nowhere—that’s what we call the in-between world—is really strange. Physics are weird, the sky doesn’t change color, it can drive some people a little crazy. And then, if you decide to go to a different world than the one you were born in, you’ll end up in a different body.”
You grin and mention the arms.
She blushes. “Well, when you’ve got two arms and two legs and you’re used to four arms and no legs, things feel weird.”
“Are you looking for particular people?” Richard asks.
You check with the others, and you all agree.
And you tell your story. Of how you first came to know each other. Of how your bond deepened. Of how you fell in love, out of love, and then learned to love each other.
Of how a few years ago you all resigned yourselves to never meeting in person. Of how you decided to commit to each other anyway, not wanting to lose what you had.
Of how you’ve helped each other grow, shared each other’s burdens and joys.
“So,” you finish, “I can tell you anything they can tell me. Is… is this going to happen?”
Richard looks you in the eyes. “I don’t see any reason why it won’t.”
It doesn’t quite resonate. “I want to believe you…” you say.
Dana stands up. “If I were to show you what I was born as,” she says, “would that help?”
You shrug. You think it would, but you don’t really have any idea.
Richard is taken aback. “You can do that?”
Dana smiles at him. “Celeste has been teaching us a few tricks. She’s been traveling the worlds a lot longer than we have.” She turns to you. “But this is the first time I’m trying this in another world. If I can’t survive here, I won’t be able to transform.”
You don’t really understand what she means by that, but you tell her to try if she wants.
Dana shrugs off her coat and walks out to a clear space. “I’m not much taller,” she explains, “but I’ve got a long tail.” She takes a breath. Closes her eyes.
And she changes.
There’s a shimmer, like a heat wave or a cloud of dust, just slower than a blink. And the woman becomes a green-scaled four-armed snake person. She’s standing at the same height but with about eight feet of tail trailing behind her. Her upper body is still snake-like, but with more sapient proportions.
You don’t say anything out loud, but you dryly note in your head that you know it’s real because she avoided the furry cliché of reptiles-with-boobs. Indeed, she’s still feminine, just in a way that feels natural to her.
She opens her eyes and looks at you. “Is thisss enoug—“ She coughs and mutters something about dumb languages using a particular sound.
You get up and walk towards her. You hold up your hands.
She takes each of your hands in two of hers.
“You’re real,” you breathe.
She nods.
“You’re from another world.”
“That’s right,” she says, gently.
“And y—you know where they are. Alex and Euty?”
“I’m pretty sure we can find them.” She glances over your shoulder at Richard.
“And we can s—“ You can’t finish the sentence out loud. “And we can be…” A sob escapes. And another one.
And Dana lets go of your hands and wraps you in a hug.
And you can’t get a single word out between sobs.
And Red is hugging their nearest cousin with everything they have and lifting her off the ground and spinning her around.
And Green is soaring and diving and screeching for joy.
And you feel the faintest inkling of not wanting to impose on this person you just met and you have no idea how salt water interacts with scales but your body just stands there and releases everything you’ve held inside, ever since you stopped looking, ever since you accepted that you would never see Red and Green in this life.
You can finally fulfill your first promise to each other.
You give yourselves a month to get ready.
Green doesn’t have many obligations, but they’re going to have the toughest time finding the portal. Red has to go to the other end of the world but they’ve got a clear shot once they can go. You’ve got to find a house-sitter and get a leave of absence from your job.
If you can’t get leave, you’ll quit.
Richard left a phone with you. It’s reminiscent of an old candy bar cellphone, with physical buttons and really hard plastic. Yes, it does have the snake game. But this phone connects directly to their home base.
The Lighthouse, they called it. In the middle of Nowhere. Once Green is ready, you’ll coordinate on guiding them to the portal.
Red is going to make her way to the Melodian embassy on their continent. You’ve already passed on her information to the Lighthouse, and it’s making its way through those diplomatic channels. When they get there, the embassy will be ready for them.
Your house has been paid off for a while, so you just need to find someone to stay there. Utility bills are usually in a renter’s name, so you would only need to worry about taxes and insurance. Insurance is auto-paid to your credit card, and that’s auto-paid from your bank account. Taxes…
Well, it’s March. You should be back by the end of the year.
That’s the other question you have: how long are you going to stay together? Are you going to try to come back to your lives, or is this it?
Green points out that, since entering a world gives you a body native to that world, you can visit and spend time in each others’ worlds too.
You consider that. You also consider that Richard claimed to have good WiFi at the Lighthouse.
Considering previous experiences, the three of you are hesitant to dive in without an exit strategy. But you’re also quickly realizing that you’ve got options. Quite a few, in fact.
So, given your resources and the time of year, you’re giving yourselves six months in Nowhere. Six months of living together, of being together. After that… It could be over. It could be spending holidays together. It could be rotating worlds. It could be picking a world to live in and visiting the others.
It could be staying in Nowhere and never looking back.
(None of you actually think that’ll be the case, but it’s fun to dream.)
In the meantime, you’re not sure which conversation you’re dreading more:
Your work, or your family.
There is no doubt that the three of you will be visiting Red's home. It's a big, chaotic family; you'll fit right in.
There is no doubt that the three of you will not be visiting Green's home. Green's as close with their parents as they are with their coworkers, except the coworkers don't have a childhood's worth of baggage.
Whether you will visit your family... depends on how this goes.
No pressure, right?
Your headmates have been a... touchy topic in the past. It definitely didn't help that the second time you mentioned them was an apology for lying during the first time. Followed by a description of the faun you were in a long-distance relationship with. And the feathered dragon you were also in a long-distance relationship with. And how the long-distance was essentially infinite-distance.
You essentially ended that conversation by saying you wouldn't bring them up unless they brought them up first. And they did a few times, but always as your "telephone friends." And never acknowledging any of the otherworldly aspects.
You were really glad Red and Green saw the same things you saw. Because it was obvious your parents were trying to relate, trying to show interest; but you weren't sure what would be a bridge too far.
If anything, it would be this.
"So," you say, leaning onto the outdoor dining table at the hottest breakfast spot outside of town, "things have changed, and I'm going to go meet Alex and Euty."
(You use the English-ized version of Alex; you have ever since they winced the first few times you pronounced it correctly.)
There's a flash of confusion across their faces before your dad smiles. "That's great!" he says. "Are you going to... their place?"
You saw the mental hiccup as he was saying that: it's they/them, but I think there's two of them, so is it still 'their'? It's a little frustrating, but at this point, the three of you are genuinely happy he's trying.
It's like the early days of your bond: trying to communicate foreign concepts by getting to the root of the idea. Red and Green had no idea you were a programmer, after all, but still managed to teach you something about it. "We found a middle ground that all of us can get to," you explain. "It's relatively new, so it's not surprising that we didn't find out about it until now."
"So you're going... abroad?" your mom says, pausing because she knows it's a euphemism.
You nod. "I've been told there's internet access, so I should be able to stay in touch. No idea how consistent it is, though. Other than that, though, it's basically off the grid."
You can tell that thought makes her more uneasy. "Will you be okay if something happens?"
"Definitely," you say with a fierce nod. "There's..." You struggle for a moment to find the right concept.
Green assists. They've gotten really good at this sort of thing.
"There's a village," you say. "They've got food, housing, and a medical clinic. We've already got a place with our name on it, and if I understand it correctly, I will have my car if we need it."
She's mollified a bit. "How long do you think you'll be gone?"
This is the part you're really concerned with. Anyone can understand taking a trip to see someone. It's a little different when it's
"Six months," you say, trying your best to be confident in your answer. "We want to give ourselves enough time to... be together before deciding what comes next."
You wish you could take that last phrase back, you can tell it scared her.
You panic a bit. Red supplies the quick fix. "I'm not saying goodbye," you say quickly. You visibly close your eyes, trying to make it obvious you're taking it seriously. "We want to have enough time to decide if we're going to live together long-term, and if so, where. But no matter what, I'm going to stay in touch with you. I'm still going to see you, hopefully around the holidays among other times."
Your dad chimes in. "You might be moving farther away."
You nod. "I don't know, but I didn't want to blindside you if I did."
He smiles at you. Your mom is trying to smile, but you can tell she's working through her own fears. "Just invite us to the wedding," he says.
You can’t help but smile. You have no idea what a wedding would look like for the three of you, but of course you’d imagined something. “Absolutely,” you say.
Red had hopped on an airship a week ago.
Green was on their way to their portal after a week of research.
Your job didn’t do leaves of absence, but they promised not to hold it against you if you gave two weeks notice. So you did.
You hop in your car for what you hope is the last time in a while. You had asked if it would work where you were going, which had prompted Dana to take a look under the hood and give it her approval. Apparently she was the resident mechanic at the Lighthouse.
You had wondered aloud whether an electric would be better. She said she’d swap in an electric motor if that becomes the case.
The back of your little hatchback is stuffed with all of your worldly possessions that you still have left. Lots of clothes had gone to Goodwill, the furniture was staying for your house-sitter (a young couple who needed a place that wouldn’t get sold out from under them), and you had ruthlessly Marie-Kondo’d the rest. Video games, books, music, movies; all replaced with their digital equivalents.
You are bringing along your instrument, though. That sparks joy.
Your little car isn’t the same little car you had driven up and down the mountain all those years ago. Times changed, engines degraded, and you have a new little car with a touchscreen.
But you do have one thing that was the same.
As you say goodbye to your house for the time being, you fire up that old CD. And skip to the last track.
Windows down. Volume up. “All I wanna get is,” you sang, “A little bit closer.”
There’s a sense of giddiness among the three of you. It’s finally happening.
It’s! Finally! Happening!
Red had given you a tour of the airship when they first got on. It’s like an old passenger ship, except with hot air balloons in addition to sails. There was apparently some magic involved too.
But now the ship had docked in the Melodian capitol. They head down the gangplank and scan the crowd at the pier for their guide.
“All you’re thinking lately,” they sing along, grinning to themselves and sending a salacious image.
Red finally sees an elf with lilac hair and mage’s robes waving at them. Red waves back, and the elf runs up and takes their larger suitcase.
“Eutychia?” she says. Red nods.
The elf smiles broadly, and the two of them start walking. She starts talking a mile a minute in an unrecognizable language, but with the gestures at her and Red’s heads you can imagine what she’s talking about.
Red finally holds up their hands and points to their ears. “I’m excited too,” they say, “but I don’t understand a thing you’re saying!”
The elf blinks twice, then forcefully slaps her palm to her forehead. She mutters what you assume to be an apology and twirls her hand in a strange gesture, an aura the same hue as her hair surrounding it.
“How’s this?” she says.
“That’s better!” Red says with a smile. “So what was your name again?”
“Oh! I’m Margo! I’m here to escort you to the portal.” She fidgeted with her hands. “And… if it’s okay, can I ask you a few questions?”
Red laughed. “So you know?”
“No!” she says with a smile bordering on manic. “I mean, I heard the basics: a cross-dimensional mental and magical bond forming seemingly out of nowhere, with people that didn’t even know that other worlds existed—which, sorry—“
“Yeah, about that,” Red says. “How long have you known about other worlds?”
Margo has the decency to blush. “It’s been an open secret as long as I can remember,” she says quietly. “It was just always described as incredibly dangerous.”
Red huffs. “I would have done it,” they mutter.
“I’m sure you would have,” Margo says gently. “I can only imagine the depth of your love for each other.”
Red smiles. “Me too.” They makes eye contact with her. “But it was rough for a bit.” At Margo’s confused look, they continue. “It’s a strange relationship, but it’s still a relationship.”
If anything Margo’s eyes seem to get brighter. “So you still had to become friends?”
Meanwhile Green touches down on a public vista for a break. They pull out their travel mug and take a few gulps of water.
“You alright there, son?” an elderly gryphon says behind them.
Green shakes off the strangeness of being called “son” and turns around. “I am,” they say. “Anything I need to be worried about in the valley here?”
“Not unless you’re afraid of ghosts,” the gryphon says.
Green smiles back. “Not a chance.” Internally they wince: they were hoping to have a bit longer to rest, but they’re not keen on getting roped into a conversation, not when they’re so close. With a cry they dive down into the valley.
“Here come the dreams of you and me,” they sing to themselves.
“Here come the dreams,” you answer as you pull onto the highway. The portal is about an hour from you, and with any luck the three of you will get where you’re going at the same time.
Green glides over the treetops, looking for a particular cliff.
You pull off the highway onto a road that feels like it's heading straight up a mountain.
Red is walking through the city streets, making a note for the three of you to come back and visit.
You're trying not to get distracted as you carefully take your car around the switchbacks.
Green finds their landmark and dips below the trees.
Red arrives at the portal.
"Here you go!" Margo says. "Though, if you're willing to talk more..."
Red laughs. You've all made your thoughts on the matter quite clear. "We would love to sit down with you," they hold up a hand, "later."
You can see the dots connect for Margo. "Right," she says. "In each others' heads, never been together in person."
Red nods. "Can you show us around the city sometime?"
She brightens up. "Yes! Oh, of course, just send a message to the palace."
Red blanches. "The... palace?"
Margo shrinks back a bit. "Yeah, that's... where I work! So just send a message—"
"Are you a princess?" Red says flatly.
"Please don't call me tha—" Margo instinctively responds before clamping a hand over her mouth, eyes wide in shock.
Red shrinks back a bit. "Okay, talking with royalty. Got it."
"I'm serious," Margo says, and she looks... sad. "I basically got a promotion and now everyone thinks I'm this big deal and my friends say it's because I am but..."
Red puts their hand on her shoulder. "You feel like people aren't seeing you, just who they imagine you are?"
Margo nods, her smile coming back. "On the bright side," she says, "we can use the diplomatic channels to get in touch."
You finally get to the top of the mountain.
Green is at their portal.
Red takes their other suitcase from Margo and walks up to the portal.
"Oh!" Margo says, "do you need a language spell?"
Red smirks at her and points at their head. "We've already got one."
You laugh out loud. "I told them we've already got one," you say.
Red turns back to the portal.
There's an awkward silence on their end.
"Um..." Margo says, looking between Red and the portal.
You glance at your GPS: two minutes out.
Red turns to Margo. "Waiting for everyone to get to their portals," they explain.
You finally find the turn-off. It's a dirt path, barely a driveway, but it's exactly as Richard described it to you. And at the end of it...
There are ripples around it, similar to the ripples that appeared when Dana transformed in your living room. It's translucent, in that you can see through it to the rest of the meadow behind it. You can't see through it to wherever it leads.
You stop your car in front of it.
Red squares their shoulders and takes a deep breath.
Green tenses into an attack stance.
And you rush in.
Two seconds in and you can tell why they call it "Nowhere." There's floating islands, the landscape can't seem to decide if it's barren or lush, there's a surprising amount of debris and rusting structures, and the sky is an eerie shade of pink, like the underside of a storm cloud at night with city lights reflecting off of it.
"Great," you say in your best impression of a hobbit, "where are we going?"
Your place is a second floor warehouse?
Apparently Richard picked it for you because it has a working freight elevator. And because he had no idea what kind of furniture you would need.
You're the first one there. Because you're in a car. You park by the elevator and start moving all your stuff onto it.
You hear Green land on the roof. You do not look up.
Red is climbing up the stairs on the other side of the building. You offer to come get their suitcases. They decline.
You forgot how strong they are.
You shake off that vision and put the last box on the elevator. You say a quick thanks to the others for letting you have the most bad. ass. entrance. Ever.
Green wonders why landing on the roof doesn't count.
Red is standing in the main room wondering when you two are going to get there.
"Right," you mutter. You close the elevator door and start it going.
You've heard people describe nervousness as their heart trying to explode out of their chest. You don't feel that yourself. It feels more like your blood vessels are trying to escape, like you can only feel your fingers and your heart beating stronger than ever—not faster; just more blood.
The elevator stops. You know Green's at the door to the patio. Red's standing at the staircase door trying to look cool. You open the elevator door but keep your eyes shut.
And then you all look.
And you're... confused.
You walk a little closer to each other.
And it finally dawns on you (and the others quickly after): you've only ever seen each others' reflections.
With a laugh, you quickly close the distance. Almost.
Red is a little taller than you. And definitely more buff. Not quite Amazonian, but definitely buff.
Green is intentionally keeping their head on eye level with you, but you can tell they could be a good couple of feet taller if they stood all the way up. You can see the fine oils on their feathers, how they’re slightly harried from the long journey.
They're both surprised at your... hair?
The three of you hold your hands/claws up.
You take a deep breath.
And you connect. Red's calloused hands. Green's feathered claws. Your softer hands.
Then nothing happens.
Then everything happens.
You’re walking down the street towards the Lighthouse. You stumble every so often on your new legs. Your legs that you’ve always had. That you just got. It’s throwing off your balance. Your balance is normal. It’s completely different without a tail. Plantigrade legs are so weird.
You stop and balance for a second, still taking in all the new sensations and feelings and newness of it all.
The breeze tickles your fingers. It messes with your hair. It catches your wings.
Your wings! You unfurl them and let the wind lift you just off the ground. You flap a few times to get a little altitude. You belong up here. You’ve never been up here.
You definitely don’t feel confident enough in them to try any stunts.
You get enough altitude to get over some of the buildings and hills and then start gliding toward the Lighthouse.
You see Richard talking with a woman in a kitchen uniform. You land nearby and walk up.
He spots you. “Well, hello there,” he says.
The woman backs away. “I’ll let you know about the produce,” she says to Richard.
“Wait!” you shout to her. “Are you the chef?”
The woman is slightly embarrassed. “Yes?”
You smile broadly. “Great, we’re starving. When’s dinner?”
She laughs slightly. “Kitchen doesn’t open for two hours; we’re way behind on prep.” Before you can be too disappointed, she continues. “But we just restocked the snack cubbies in the dining pavilion, so I hope that tides you over?”
“Oh, that’s great,” you say with a sigh of relief. “Which way is that?”
She motions you over. “I’m headed that way now, I can show you.”
“Gre—wait!” You turn back to Richard. “Thank you!”
Richard raises an eyebrow. “While I’m sure you’re welcome, I’m a bit lost as to what I’ve done for you.”
You don’t understand his confusion. “You… you brought us here? Brought us together?”
Richard’s eyes go wide for a half second. “You don’t quite look like anyone I’ve met; remind me what your name is?”
“We’re—“ You choke on the word. A host of names tried to exit your brain and ran into each other at the door.
You look down in thought. “I’m…” You know who you are, and you have no idea who you are.
You’re the faun that wanted to experience everything.
You’re the dragon that wanted to show the world everything.
You’re the human that wanted to make everything.
You’re all of them. And yet…
“We’re me.” You look at Richard, ecstatic. “We’re me!”
Richard’s eyebrow goes back up.
“Ugh, stupid language,” you grumble. You try again. “We’re Red and Green and Blue—and that makes White!” You smile in victory. “We’re White.”
Understanding dawns on Richard’s face. “You’re the trio?”
You nod. “We are. But we’re me. I’m us. But I’m new.”
The chef anxiously shuffles her feet. “Can we walk and talk?”
“Right,” you say. “Sorry, I’m coming.” You start to say goodbye to Richard, but he’s walking with you.
“So,” he says, “are the others… around?”
“Yes,” you say, “we’re all here.”
“But are they separate from you?”
You groan in frustration. He still doesn’t get it. You… also might not get it. You feel like you do, but if you can’t put it into words, maybe you don’t get it.
It’s your first problem all over again.
The thought brings a smile to you, and you try again, remembering that people are usually singular, and you’re the exception.
“You met Blue a month ago,” you begin. “Blue called us Red and Green. So I’m White, because when you put red, green, and blue together, you get white.”
“So, what, did the three of you merge or something?” the chef says, using her stride to put a little more distance between the two of you.
“Yes!” you say. Wait. “Kind of.” That word feels slightly incomplete. “We—I’m something new.”
“Is this permanent?” Richard says. You get a hint of fear, anxiety from him.
Does he think you’re dead?
“Oh, no no no no” you wave your hands in front of you, “no, this is just…” You dig for words again. “We’re together. But we aren’t always together. We could be ourselves—our separate selves if we wanted.”
You could show them! Wait—
You blush. “But we’re not sure if clothes come with the separation so we’re not going to show you right now,” you say quickly.
You think a little further. “And we might not be me next time either.” You look at your arms, feel your plantigrade legs. “There’s more human in us right now, we might be more faun next time. Or dragon.” You smile. “But we’re still us.”
You turn to the chef. “And we’re definitely hungr—We’re so sorry, it’s nice to meet you…?”
Her nervousness relaxes a bit. “Justine.” She holds out a hand, and you shake it. You’ve both got firm grips.
“Nice to meet you, Justine,” you say. “You’re going to be our favorite person in two hours.”
You’re on the roof of your loft, leaning against Red, your backs against Green.
It would be more romantic if there was a sunset here. But you are watching the Lighthouse’s gently rotating light change color from a deep orange to a cool white.
You’re all spent from an active day of travel, the emotional weight of finally meeting each other, and the… integration that happened.
You make a note to look up Steven Universe at some point.
Red giggles at that.
You lean into them further, feeling very affectionate.
Green lifts their head up and gently rests it on top of yours and Red’s.
You shift slightly, your new feathers brushing against Red’s. You shift to take another look, still in awe at the changes. You and Red both have a small patch of downy feathers on the tops of your shoulders down to the middle of your shoulder blades on your backs.
Your attention shifts to your legs. You’ve gained a patch of long fur on your ankles, similar to the featherIng on Red’s legs. Green’s gained the same on the tip of their tail.
You’re not sure why your hair was your defining physical trait, but seeing as how Red’s hair was barely distinguishable from their fur, you guess it makes sense. They’ve ended up with a streak of brown above their right eye.
Green has a Mohawk. They like it more than they care to admit.
You take a deep, satisfied breath. And let it out.
You’ll unpack your stuff later. And figure out what comes next. And visit each other’s worlds. Find out if there’s any others like you? Figure out how to find out if there’s any others like you. And find your place, wherever it may be.
But right now?
You, all three of you, are more content than you have ever been.
The ache is gone. Your promises are fulfilled.
You’re home.