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Hey, Stevie
An eerie voice echoed from nowhere, words so whispy, Dr two brains for a moment almost disregarded it as another voice in his head.
The doctor lounged on his cheesy, scratched up garage-sale couch, flipping channels and proudly wearing his mousy slippers without a care in the world. He lifted his head up a moment, sniffing the air passively for any signs of predators, to find nothing. The warehouse was just dark and full of long, flickering shadows cast by the sole light of his cathode ray junker.
Right as he was about to forget it forever, he heard the noise again, louder, more insistent, clearly ringing through his mind like the thought was being shoved into his consciousness.
Hey, Stevie
His prey instincts washed over him before a rational thought could take over. The mouse man snapped out of the couch, ready to bolt at a moments notice, whiskers twitching with fear, eyes darting around the room feverishly.
He was home alone. The henchmen were out on their legally mandated paid vacation. He had committed no crime recently…
"Hey, not funny Wordgirl," as soon as the groggy words fell from his mouth, he knew that was the wrong guess. Wasn't her style. This creeping feeling was telltale signs of paranoia, probably sleep-deprived induced hallucinations, the biologist inside him suggested.
Stevie. He hadn't heard that name in years. It stirred a vague, foggy memory. No one called him stevie, no one, right….? He couldn't… remember?
"...Who's ther-"
Haha, ah no, it's not wordgirl, the slurred voice cut him off, lagging behind.
the words echoed again, and he felt another involuntary wave of prey-like fear come and go, leaving him with goose-bumps. The doctor gulped, forcing himself to calm down. Maybe he was on drugs..? No… he hadn't taken anything in years it can't… be, no.
Well, if the voice responded to him, maybe this delusion was worth reasoning with.
"Who are you?"
There was a long pause as he looked around the empty warehouse, doubting himself. He was just some crazy scientist talking to himsel-
I'm hurt you don't remember me, but, I don't blame you. Most people don't… It's been really lonely, Stevie, the deep voice sighed.
"What?" Dr Twobrains uttered to himself to fill in during his confusion. That nickname again… it stirred foggy memories he had long since no use for. Old, old… professor memories. The doctor didn't exactly mourn his past self, (he saw no reason to, he had long since evolved passed him into a better creature) but the more he was forced to think about it, he realized how little he actually remembered anything older than three years ago… who… was that? The voice suddenly felt extremely familiar. Painfully familiar.
He spoke again, almost conversationally, into the empty room.
"Should I know you?"
There was another pause. He stood completely still, but he could feel a cold draft roll past, the TV glitch and flicker, shadows shift and move without a source.
Maybe, the voice returned, quieter and more somber.
I miss you, it unexpectedly added.
Dr Twobrains was taken aback. Be blinked a few times, maybe a little more convinced this time it was tricks his double mind was playing on himself. No one… missed him. No one cared. Who would?
A lot of people, actually, it responded to his thoughts. He jumped.
"Wh- wait what? No," he stuttered frantically trying to piece together what was really going on.
...I could go on and on about how there are people in your self-made present who do love you, miss you, but… your present isn't why I'm here.
the words were the most intelligible and distinct they had ever been before, speaking with a drunken confidence. Dr two-brain's blood-red eyes locked onto something, the darkest shadows in the furthest corner of the warehouse. He could have sworn he saw something, almost certain. Warily, he approached, hand reaching in his side pocket for a familiar handle.
It's okay if you don't remember your past. I barely do, either. But I still feel it. I was hoping you still felt the same way, Stevie,
The pet name made him flinch this time, unsure how to take it. He finally unlocked that safe in his mind, clumsily sifting through broken memories of a man barely himself anymore. 'Stevie'…? Maybe a friend called him that? The blurry names and faces of a hundred so people surfaced his mind. Colleagues, peers, friends, bosses, drinking buddies, no, no, it rang a bell but he came up short.
It's Wing, by the way, the voice suggested, feeling him search.
"Wing Ding Gaster," they said in unison. The name raced to the front of his mind, slipping from his tongue with frustratingly tantalizing familiarity. He knew that name.
Dr Twobrains clutched the handle of his goop ray, unholstering it from his coat, aiming it towards the shadows as he approached.
From the darkness, he could barely make out the outline of a human… humanoid thing. There was definitely something there. And that thing laughed.
A goop ray? Really? It seemed incredibly amused. The last thing I need is more goop.
Something darted out of the shadows right at him. Instinctively he fired two shots at the aggressor, but something very real smacked the gun from his hand, sending it flying across the room. Something very, very real wrapped around his gloved wrist tightly. He glanced down at it in shock, seeing what looked like a kind of tentacle made of the darkest, deepest shadows, slowly and unwelcomingly creep up his arm.
He looked up. That something emerged from the shadows. It barely held its humanoid shape together, dripping and falling apart as it stepped out with unusual comfort. He looked up at where it's face should have been, but all he saw was a gaunt, pale head with two pitch black, pupil-less eyes, dripping and warping as it moved closer to him.
His mouse brain took over in the moment of sheer primal terror at the sight. He ripped his sweaty hand out of the rubber glove, and turned to scamper to all fours, running towards where the gun had clattered to the floor. He skidded along the floor and turned around, firing off five, ten, fifteen futile rapidfire shots into the black mass.
Each time it landed with no effect, each laser blast being absorbed into its body with no sense of force.
What he could barely describe was it's mouth turned its corners down in a disappointed frown.
I'm sorry I scared you, It spoke with infinite calm. I should be used to people's fear of me by now…
Twobrains breathed heavily, ready to make a b-line to jump out the window, but for some reason couldn't quite tear his eyes away from the horrific sight.
"Wind ding gaster, wing ding gaster, wing ding gaster…" he repeated again and again under his breath, begging himself to remember. He would have remembered a creature like this! He should have! How could you forget??
Despite the figure's stillness, somehow it had appeared again at his side.
Do you want help? It offered gently.
Help? Foreboding crept up his spine. The voice… it was close to him, it tingle with familiarity, just on the tip of his mind, he reached for it no avail. Who…
He felt a hand rest against his cheek, a gentle gesture he hadn't felt in years. His mouse brain screamed in panic, rattling the cage of his mind, while his human half sat there in silence.
He suddenly felt a wave of drowsiness wash over him, shoring out the panging headache.
The mouse's out cries faded into nothing. The migraine slipped away. All he felt was a warm memory. Warm and safe.
Sizzling noise. Buttery aroma. Voices. Laughter.
"So I normally, like, eyeball it, I guess, but if you reeeaaally feel insecure about it I guess you could put a timer to it" you laugh. Grilling a sandwich? Really? This was the easiest think you could ever make?
"I couldn't cook my way out of a paper bag. I will end up burning it. Please make this experiment consistently reproducible, doctor" a warm voice joked, joining your laughter.
"Oh come on, it's just edible chemistry it's not that hard. Here, I'll just… make another one and time it this time"
"Okay, thank the heavens, good, yes, thanks" he placed his boney hands against his chest in mock relief. You pick up another two pieces of bread and begun buttering, preparing another sandwich with routine ease. Your friend leaned against the counter, a consistent smile lingering on his face, but it was genuine. He looked out the kitchenette window, clearly not really worried about the sandwiches anymore. Sun streamed down onto his eerily bone white face, his hollow eyes glinted with magic you wished you could understand. Magic was just science humanity hadn't figured out, right? You had been picking this alien's brain all afternoon about it, but he seemed to work on a completely different level than you it seemed. Not that you should have been surprised, but…
"I missed the sun" he mused gently, not looking away from the cityscape sky.
It took you off guard a second, but you flipped the grilled cheese anyway, and looked up at him.
"None where you're from?" asked captain obvious.
"Nah…" he replied with an air of casualness, but his pained expression betrayed more story than that.
You lay off.
"It's not exactly the prettiest view in town, sorry. I guess I don't think much about it while I'm working."
"Haha, nah, nah, don't worry about it. It's all interesting to see anyway. I'm used to seeing a big ol' boring lava lake out my window, but that'd amuse the heck out of you wouldn't it, Stevie?"
"Ooh, fair point" Ooh, lava? Lava?? Your voice concealed how curious you were now. Despite how much time you spent with him you kept uncovering big rather interesting details.
"It's okay you can use big boy swears around me, the kids aren't here," you added on jokingly. He seemed to find that funny, too.
"No, no, I shouldn't. I just got my mouth under control…" his strange, malleable fangled mouth. His tongue was purple, you could have sworn, but was it? Maybe it was see through? Ghostly. You weren't quite sure. Did skeleton creatures have similair-
"Hey, stop thinking about my mouth, you're making this weird," he spoke up, rolling his eyes. "Okay, so about fifteen minutes? You didn't stop the timer," He changed the topic and reached over to grab the fresh sandwich off the plate to take a cheerful bite.
The thought hit you like a truck. You stood there in stunned silence, a warm flush in your cheeks.
"Wh-"
"Did you just read my mind." You asked, stone cold.
"Aah," he grumbled mouth half-full of crunchy cheesy goodness, "no, I guess I'm just good at picking stuff up,"
"Liar,"
He held up his hands in defense, "no, really!"
"What number I'm I thinking of?"
"Oh my gods, st-"
"No, please really, try it! Try it!"
"I can't read your mind."
"C'mooon"
"69"
You burst out laughing, seriousness fizzled off, "You take me as that immature?"
Wing chuckled a little, too, amused, but showing a twinge of guilty confusion.
"Why is that funny?"
You stopped laughing. You were that immature. He correctly guessed the number. He didn't even know the joke. Your smile faded.
"Haha, what the..."
"...fuck," Dr. Twobrains was ripped back to the present, words slurred and groggy, eyes fluttering open like it was a dream. Sunlight streamed through the cracked windows of the warehouse, tiny dust floating in its beams like little fairies. Birds sang joyous muffled tunes outside, unhindered by the regular grumble and churn of noisy cars and trains chugging along their normal route.
He grumpily sat up from his napping spot upon the couch, and his labcoat fell to the floor. The familiar touch of his gloves wasn't there anymore. It looks like he took them off and put them somewhere…
His head throbbed with a splitting headache, but it was hardly new. He got headaches and migraines all the time. It was just a part of life.
He forced himself to get up. He picked up his coat from the floor and walked over to the wall to hang it up, but something caught his attention. A whiff of cheese immediately woke him up, piquing his interest. He lifted his head to sniff the air and twitched his whiskers, instinctively curling both his hands up to his chest like an animal again.
It wasn't going to be an extensive search. He immediately spotted the plate of food on the counter of his scratched up garage-sale table.
Two freshly made grilled cheese sandwiches, just for him.