Work Text:
December 10, 2027
Saint Mary’s Cemetery
Hey, mom, I know we're gettin' old
Clay doesn’t remember the last time he’d visited here without dad. Doing this is depressing as hell. Being alone makes it so much worse.
But he already regretted a lot with his mother.
A freak explosion. At her work. The urn was mostly symbolic since they couldn’t recover her body.
It’s behind a glass case with a framed image of her with dad and him. He has a tooth missing in that. He’s so small. So young.
And the lines on our hands have changed
He places the bouquet of flowers into the slotted rack. It’s freshly cut, meaning his hands were a tad sticky after handling them.
Her hands were somehow always dirty, always fixing at something. Was it oil residue? The memories are fuzzy at best.
Clay does remember the stickiness. He’d compare his tiny hands against hers and stick his tongue out at how gross they were. She only laughed, telling him to wash it off.
His hands have been through a lot of weight training, now calloused and rough.
Hers were too.
While rubbing his hands together, he stares into the glass case.
But you still look at me the same
She looks so happy in that photo. After she got the job, mom immediately came home to tell the family.
Even if they had to move to California, his family was so happy that it made him excited too.
The framed image is the day they moved out.
Having this memoir immortalizes his mom, and that is how he wants to remember her. Wild dark hair just like his. Slight under-eye bags. Smiling.
The astronaut takes a seat on the empty bench.
Hey, mom, guess what? You're really tough
“I know I should come by more often, but I’ve been busy...” That confession already tires him out.
What can he say?
He wanted to visit her because he’ll be going to space soon.
Well, that isn’t exactly true. He’d feel odd doing anything else though. Lying to himself about what he’s going to do next is the only thing keeping him sane.
Is he being strong by doing this?
Or is he weak?
And I know you did all you could
Coming here is useless if he’s just going to sit in silence. However, no words come to him.
This is just him being selfish.
Mom was never like that.
Before her final job and before moving to San Francisco, his family was struggling with money problems. His parents staring at overdue bills at the dining table are ingrained into his memory.
Mom continued to call and bother anyone she knew just to get a better job, a better life for all of them. She always had something to say, something to achieve. All for his sake.
They were strong for him then. Doing this for Mr. Cosmos makes him just as strong.
Just to make sure my life was good
The astronaut wants to hear her voice again, to hear her gush about being a rocket scientist. Remembering what she said is so difficult. But he does remember that his mom always insisted that Clay follow his dreams. Wherever that may lead, he’d be supported.
His family had been whole for such a short amount of time.
At least he had that memory of a whole family. Apollo didn’t.
Being in this place brings him back to his childhood, and faded images of then flicker through his head.
Sorry for the fights and the tone of my voice
His grades used to be terrible before her death. Mom berated him for that. Of course, he deserved it.
But in those moments, he always yelled back at her.
Clay wanted to prove grades wouldn’t do anything to his life after school, or something like that. Another of his selfish decisions with flimsy evidence while she was alive.
Sorry for the nights when I made the wrong choice
One time, he’d disappeared to hang out with friends. Even if he was just in elementary school, Clay had snuck out and went to loiter around. Unimportant. Stupid. Selfish.
When his mom found him, she insisted she was worried sick. She dragged him home, and he was grounded for months.
“God, Mom, I don’t know if I can do this.” He grips at his jeans, trembling.
Life is flyin' by and it's hittin' me now
The moment dad found out mom died, Clay was taken out of school for a few days. He was too young to understand that she was gone forever.
Everything hit at her funeral. He barely understood why so many were crying. When his dad delivered her eulogy, something clicked.
He wanted to see his mom again, but he couldn’t. Screaming for her didn’t help.
I hope it's not, but
Clay wants to scream right now.
His emotions are caught in his throat. Grief. Anger. Anguish.
Mr. Cosmos made him do this. Lying to the world to save their lives. The Phantom sounds like a cheesy horror film villain, but they are real. They have murdered someone else, and they will kill him and Mr. Starbuck if he doesn’t go through with this plan.
Maybe he’s here because he’s scared to die.
If this is the last time, please come close
He thumbs at his necklace. The saturn charm is cool against his sweaty palms.
Cassini Terran.
As if his parents were destined to have a kid be an astronaut. A rocket scientist. Named after a spacecraft.
This necklace is one thing that survived the blast. His dad wanted to put it with the urn, but Clay insisted on keeping it. Some part of him believes it’s to keep her close.
Some part of him believes it’s to demonstrate how much he loves her.
I love you with all my heart, you know
When was the last time he told his mom he loved her? It’s been far too long since then.
When he left for school that fateful morning, he didn’t say I love you too. The last time he ever saw her, that’s what she yelled.
He missed that chance.
Sure, she knew he did love her too. Making the conscious choice to not reply is one of his biggest regrets.
I don't wanna cry, I'm bad at goodbye
The amount of selfish decisions he made as a kid wreck him to no end. The selfish decision to even go through with this plan nearly causes him to slip off of the bench. Tears prick at his eyes.
Crying now is the worst. There’s no use in portraying it. It only pains him.
He hasn’t even spoken that much. Being in the presence of her urn is enough to turn him into that broken and motherless child crying underneath the stars.
If this is the last time
His emotions come streaking down his face. Clay could die in a few days. This Phantom business scares him. And he’s the one who adores horror films.
Does he want to confess? To tell this urn everything before HAT-2? Does he want to talk about his own life or his memories with her?
His voice can’t even come out.
Everything’s gone wrong.
Then let's do the things we always do
Despite the weight of his actions and how badly his body wishes to collapse, memories spring forth. Mom is the one who adored space. Never stopped talking about it. Her mind always had random facts about the universe ready to come out to whoever would listen.
He’d listen intently. Even if he didn’t understand it at all.
She wanted to share her passion with him, even late into the night. They’d turn off all the lights in the house just to stargaze as a family. Falling asleep was inevitable at such a young age. But, they always carried him back inside their house and tucked him into bed.
He kept that tradition up with Apollo now.
Like go to the mall and buy some shoes
“You remember when...” He swallows, trying to hold back tears. “When I asked for those dumb light up shoes? It’s because you talked about how stars could shine even in the dark night sky. It wasn’t because they were cool.”
Clay laughs amidst his sobbing.
Why is that the only thing he can say?
I don't wanna cry, I'm bad at goodbye
It’s because what he wants to say is something he can’t admit.
At the back of his mind, he’s sure this could be the last memory he ever has with his mother. He’s always been terrible at goodbyes ever since her death. Too many thoughts cloud his brain, and then he forgets to say the most important things.
Saying goodbye to an inanimate object feels awkward too. Something in him believes his mother doesn’t need to hear him voice these concerns.
If this is the last time
“You already know what I’m thinking, don’t you?”
The light of the sun reflects on the glass. He can see himself in it, still in tears. Under-eye bags make him look almost like her.
“Thanks, I guess.” He sighs and gets up from the bench. “For everything.”
Clay believes those words are enough. If anything, he might just get to meet her.
He hopes he won’t.
For his dad.
For Apollo.
December 11, 2027
Clay Terran’s Childhood Home
Hey, dad, what's up? Miss you so much
Clay knocks at the door. After visiting his mom, he wants to thank his dad too. The words will hopefully come to him.
A scraggly beard greets him. “...Clay?”
“The one and only!” He wanted to surprise him. He smiles brightly.
His dad then opens the screen door and hugs him tightly. The astronaut hugs him back.
“I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too.”
Yeah, the shade of your hair has changed
Dad insisted on cooking a meal for him, even though he didn’t need to. It’s nice to be home. Familiar. What’s unfamiliar is how the other looks.
When did dad’s hair get so gray?
“You’re looking older, dad.”
A hearty chuckle comes from the other. “You’ve been gone for a while. Chasing those dreams. A father worries when his son doesn’t come home for a while.”
He doesn’t even turn around. Like always.
But I look up to you the same
“I come home for Christmas and New Year’s! You really expect me to stay here? I’m space bound!” The astronaut stretches in the rickety chair.
“Of course not!” Dad scratches his back. “You could call more often though.”
“I’ll call you first when I’m up there then.”
He bites his tongue. Could fool himself with how nonchalant that sounded.
Taught me how to fish, taught me how to ride a bike
Dad has been there for him the entire time. Through everything. Clay’s relationship with him could rival Apollo’s in terms of friendship.
He learned a lot from him. How to fish, even though they didn’t catch anything. How to ride a bike, even though California was made for a car.
His dad is a tangible person. Down to earth. Fitting that his last name is Terran.
Being here with him is comforting. In a way his best friend can’t.
Taught me how to love, how to treat a woman right
“Are you visiting Justice too?”
The question catches Clay off guard. He told the attorney that even calling was off limits; lying to Apollo is impossible.
“Not yet.” He grumbles. “He’s the last person I want to say goodbye to.”
“Have you confessed yet?”
These questions continue to get worse. He almost regrets showing up. “No. I’ll tell him after I come back.”
“From space? You are hopeless, kid. Just tell him already.” His dad turns to place the food in the center of the table.
When dad talked about romance, Clay just blurted out the fact that he liked Apollo. Unprompted. The older man didn’t mind, of course. Something that trivial wasn’t going to affect their relationship.
All his father wanted was to treat whoever he liked with the respect they deserve.
Life is flyin' by and it's hittin' me now
It’s been years since that. He takes a bite, and the emotions for home come rushing back. It tastes wonderful.
“I’m guessing you’re not going to listen to this old man.”
“Nope!” Clay says, mouth already half full of food. “I haven’t had this in ages! It’s so good!”
His father scoops from the pot and plops it onto Clay’s prepared plate. “Then enjoy.”
I hope it's not, but
They eat in silence, allowing the television to fill the void. Talking about serious things like ‘I could die in a few days. Wanted you to know how much I love you before that.’ is a struggle.
His dad is barely lit by the cold tv and the flickering ceiling light. He’s so casual.
The astronaut wonders why dad never remarried.
Was it for him?
Couldn’t be. He would’ve met the person by now if he was dating anyone.
Was it because he missed mom just as much as Clay did, if not more?
Most likely.
If this is the last time, please come close
On instinct, the space cadet picks up the dishes to wash them. It is the least he can do after being treated to such a good meal.
The mindless chatter and strained laugh track in the background force a smile on his face. His dad barely changed.
His gray-haired father slinks onto the couch, watching a scripted comedy show.
The couch is far from Clay while scrubbing the dishes, but that’s how they show each other love. In little actions over words. Even if he wanted to say it aloud, finding the voice to do it is much more difficult.
I love you with all my heart, you know
He dries his hands on his khakis and joins dad on the couch. Lying down onto his father’s lap feels natural, and the other casually tries untangling his hair.
The smell of cigarette smoke is familiar. It nearly makes him tear up.
“Dad, I love you.”
Expressing love through words is confusing. His father tenses up, as expected of such an out of the blue yet genuine statement.
“You don’t need to tell me that, Clay. But, I love you too.”
I don't wanna cry, I'm bad at goodbye
The astronaut turns to hide his face. He’s really crying again.
Without a word, his father softly pets his head and hands him a tissue. He doesn’t deserve such a good person as family.
Not while he’s lying to him.
He’s getting choked up over that rather than missing his dad.
If this is the last time
HAT-2 can’t go wrong with Mr. Cosmos’ plan. If he’s caught lying about everything, dad will despise him. He can’t even imagine what Apollo would do.
Shut him out. Never speak to him again. Ignore him for the rest of his life.
Against his own will, he's imagining what Apollo would do. It causes him so much pain.
Then let's do the things we always do
“Why are you crying?” His father manages to say.
He’s not too good with this whole consoling thing either. Clay knows that.
As a kid, he only caught his father crying once after the funeral. It wasn’t pretty. All he did was cry while holding him close. The son couldn’t find the words to stop it, so all he did was hold onto him too.
Like go for a drive or watch the news
“I’ll miss you up there...” The lie shakes him to his core. He hates this feeling.
Dying in a couple days sounds terrible.
He wants to go back to when he was being taught to drive by his dad. Them laughing when Clay could barely control the car. Listening to the news while eating dinner. Just being with his father without having to fake happiness.
But he can’t return to that. He has to face this plan head on.
“You’ll do okay. I know that.” He can hear dad sniffling too. “You’re fine! That’s what you and Apollo say, right?”
I don't wanna cry, I'm bad at goodbye
Hearing his best friend’s name stings. “Right...”
“You two are always saying that. You’re acting as if this is the end.”
Maybe it is, for Clay. The Phantom looms over him like a nightmare he can’t awake from. He’s keeping this to himself to protect him.
It’s selfish, but he must.
If this is the last time
“I know that, dad. Just... Things can go wrong.”
“But they can also go right.”
Clay lifts his head from his father’s lap, wiping the tears with that tissue. Dad was crying too.
“Now, do me a favor and make sure things go right. You being pessimistic isn’t flattering.” The other messes with the hair he just untangled.
“Thanks though.” The astronaut smiles meekly. “For everything.”
“You just want to make me cry more, don’t you?” His dad runs a hand through that graying hair. He’s happy to have a caring father.
He has to live. HAT-2 has to stop controlling him.
For his family.
For his best friend.
December 13, 2027
Clay Terran’s Apartment
Hey you, sit back
He settles into the spacecraft, buckling himself in. The lights and switches all come to him effortlessly. Reciting checks is all too easy.
But then the explosion pounds in his ears.
The rocket around him disintegrates into flames. He has to make it out alive with Mr. Starbuck.
He has to make it back for Apollo.
Don't go so fast
When he turns to the man beside him, he instantly recognizes that it’s a woman. But that makes no sense. Only he and Mr. Starbuck should be on the ship.
Then, the woman’s helmet melts off to reveal that wild hair. His mother.
How is his mother here?
How is she alive?
Her soulless eyes glisten as she becomes engulfed in the flames. His voice doesn’t even scream for help as he too, gets scorched. The final image he sees is the masked phantom’s evil grin clashing with his mother’s kind smile.
Clay shoots up from his bed.
If this is the last time, please come close
The tears are uncontrollable at this point. His body aches. He wants... No. He needs Apollo. The astronaut grabs his phone.
[call. Now. I just want to hear you talk.]
[i cant say anything but i’ll text you back.]
Apollo immediately replies.
[okay, but you better tell me what’s going on]
With shaky hands, he calls his best friend. After picking up, he’s greeted by those infamous chords of steel.
“Clay?? What’s wrong?”
He doesn’t have the strength to mute himself. This is the closest he can get to having Apollo here.
“Are you crying? Did you have a nightmare?!” The attorney has a desperation in his voice.
I love you with all my heart, you know
[yea]
[it wasn’t pretty]
He hugs his knees on the bed, desperately desiring to be held by the man on the other side of the line.
“I wish I could hug you, Clay.”
Romantic thoughts leap into his mind. He wants to kiss Apollo. He wants to date Apollo. He wants to love Apollo with every fiber of h being.
But he’s stuck in silence during this call.
I don't wanna cry, I'm bad at goodbye
[i wish i could hug you too]
He would never imagine crying this much over that stupid quick nightmare. It wasn’t even that bad.
However, with how he’s spent the past few days, it couldn’t have come at a more inopportune time. He’s been trying to say final goodbyes and failing. Even to an urn.
“You sure you don’t want me to come over?”
The astronaut huffs shakily.
[you know you can’t]
“I want to though... If I wasn’t endangering your job, I would be there right now.”
If this is the last time
[i know]
[i really miss you aj]
That text has so much meaning behind it. He misses all the dumb little moments. His best friend screaming at him to do the dishes since cooking is impossible for him. His best friend doodling constellations on his arms. His best friend simply being present in his life.
“I miss you too, Clay. I miss you so goddamn much.”
The attorney will miss Clay more if the Phantom comes around. This irrational fear of murder by a spy has infected his entire life.
So let's do the things we always do
However, with Apollo on the line, fears subside. It’s hauntingly nice to just be in each other’s presence without speaking.
Why can’t he just confess?
Clay already doesn’t mind showing Apollo physical affection as his best friend. Hugs, hand holding, forehead and cheek kisses.
Maybe he can do one final thing for the attorney.
One last letter admitting how he feels.
Just in case.
Or maybe we try something brand new
“God, this is so weird. But I’m not ending the call! No way! This is... different.”
He’s messily writing down words at god knows what hour. Some tears stain the paper. He cares not. All Clay is doing in this is confessing to selfish decisions, these unnatural deeds he’s bent over backwards to do to spare everyone he’s close to.
[its nice though, right?]
The space cadet texts back, resuming writing down all of his feelings for Apollo.
I don't wanna cry, I'm bad at goodbye
As soon as he’s done, the man rushes to seal the letter. He leaves it right by the door, unmistakably writing Apollo Justice on the envelope.
“It is but... Can I hear your voice? Just once?”
Being Apollo’s best friend is a blessing and a curse. He knows when his best friend is crying too. Right now is one of those times.
[don’t make this harder, asstorney]
[not talking to you is the worst thing in the world]
“I’m begging you! Just a few words. Not about space...” Apollo hiccups, sending a pang through the astronaut’s heart. “I want a goodbye from you before you go.”
If this is the last time
Before he goes, huh?
[can you record me?]
“That’s an odd request, assteroid.” A half-hearted laugh comes through the line.
[Humor me]
After some radio silence, he hears a sound that is probably an affirmation. “You’re good to speak.”
If this is the last time
He clears his throat.
“Apollo, you’re my best friend.”
The voice that comes out is raw and passionate. There’s a fire, a brightness, that sparks in him.
If this is the last time
“I’m going to miss you like hell.”
He wants to see Apollo terribly. Every inch of his body yearns for his best friend. After returning to his bed, he hugs a pillow to comfort himself.
Oh, if this is the last time
Space travel is half-cursed in the Terran family by now. Scratch that, it happening twice cannot be simple coincidence. The dream is cursed, but Clay still wants to achieve it.
“You’ve been there for me every step of the way and I...” He chuckles. “I‘ll never be able to repay you for your friendship.”
If this is the last time
The memories between the two rush in and out of his mind, weaving between different ages. Apollo telling him that he would be fine after his mom’s death. Them falling asleep in the Cosmos Space Center senior year of high school. Clay stargazing all night with Apollo after having such a terrible day.
“So you listen to me, AJ. And you listen good.”
If this is the last time
“You’re Apollo Justice! And you’re fine!”
The declaration echoes in his empty house. Silence lingers on the phone call, but he’s sure of the last thing he’ll say.
“If... And this is a large if.” Mr. Cosmos will kill him for this if he ever finds out, but he trusts Apollo won’t tell.
“If this is the last time you hear from me, I want you to know you’re the reason I kept chasing this dream. You brought light into my life when there was only darkness. The star twinkling in my night sky.”
Oh, if this is the last time
He’s talking too much, but his mouth doesn’t stop running.
“Thanks. For everything.”
Clay ends the call and collapses into more tears. That’s the best goodbye he can come up with outside of this letter.
He hopes tomorrow will turn out okay.
For those he loves.
And for himself.