Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A/N: Here we are with the unplanned third 'not' volume of All Things End. If you're a new reader, do not start here. You will understand absolutely zero of what is going on. Go read Volume 1 and 2 and then come back or else you're going to be very lost. For returning readers, as is tradition, the song I am recommending for Finale as a whole is 'The Other Shore' by Aly & Fila.

All Things End: Finale

By: CourageFan09

Chapter 1: The Apocalypse Doesn't Pay The Bills

Caitlin Gibson was the one and only employee left in the entire gas station. A popular pit stop for travelers, it now sat empty with everything from its multiple fast food stations to its coffee shop and gift shop having been left entirely unmanned. Everyone else had fled, including her boss. It didn't matter much though. Nobody had stopped to fill up on gas in at least an hour. Oh, there had been a brief mad rush before, but then it had all...stopped.

They had all heard the rumblings that some sort of emergency was occurring in the city. There had been talk of an ongoing evacuation from the people who had come in during the unexpected rush. It had not surprised them at all after how long those government people had been scouring the city for a weapon or creature or something of the sort. Caitlin had not really paid much attention to any of that. She lived in a town a few miles from here and almost never went into the city unless it was to shop or go to a concert.

Well, with all of the bad news coming out of the city, her fellow employees had started to get nervous. It wasn't until they saw a bright light burst out of the city and all of the traffic came to a complete and total stop that they began to flee. Even now she could see the city on the horizon through the windows of the gas station and she was certain that she could see it shifting and moving about like some sort of living creature, but that just did not make any sort of sense.

A large crocodile of a woman, she had decided that she was going to keep her tail planted firmly where it was. If a nuclear bomb was about to go off in the city and start World War Three, it wasn't like she was going to be alive to care, and if it was just a false alarm, well, she was still getting paid right now, and the bills were due.

She pulled out one of the many cigarettes she kept hidden in the folds of her scales. She knew that she wasn't supposed to be smoking on the job, but who was going to bust her for it now? Besides, if this really was the end of the world, she was going to go out enjoying herself.

“Always thought these things were gonna kill me.” She murmured to herself, smoke rising up through her sharp teeth. “Never thought I'd go out in a terrorist attack, or whatever.”

The cigarette slipped out of her claws when she heard the glass doors slide open, accompanied by the annoyingly familiar jingle that she was sure would be her eternal punishment in hell. For a moment she was certain that one of the employees had come back to rescue her after she had made her casual announcement that she felt it was pointless to flee. Forgetting her cigarette, she rushed to the counter. Her hopes were immediately dashed.

Standing at the entrance was a disheveled, soggy dog with a missing ear and a downright radioactive looking blue glow. He was breathing heavily as he scanned the massive gas station. His eyes fell upon the abandoned coffee shop counter, and with a look that Caitlin could only describe as manic desperation, he turned to her and blurted out,

“Woman, I demand your finest Double Ristretto Venti, Half-Soy, Nonfat, Decaf, Organic, Chocolate Brownie, Iced Vanilla, Double-Shot, Gingerbread Frappuccino, Extra Hot with Foam, Whipped Cream, Upside Down, Double Blended, with One Sweet'N Low and One Nutrasweet, and Ice!”

Caitlin blinked, too bewildered to question anything that was going on at the moment. “Uh, sure.” She said, reaching to pull out a notebook and pen from beneath the counter. “But...could you repeat some of that?”

Even though she was not trained to work the coffee counter, she did her best to fill the guy's order. She then proceeded to watch in amazement as the dog slammed the scalding hot coffee like a man who had just spent three days out in a desert without any water. If it had hurt him, he did not show it. He then had her make a far more simple pot of regular old black coffee as he half limped and half stumbled his way over to the nearest table.

It was around that point that she realized that the dog didn't seem to have any money on him, but he was such a mess that she decided she wouldn't make a problem out of it. Much like with her smoking, nobody was around to notice some coffee going unpaid for. If they were all on the verge of being blown up, it wasn't like it mattered.

She remained stationed by the table, repeatedly refilling the dog's cup as he downed the coffee at speeds she didn't think was possible. His eyes kept wander up toward the window to gaze out at the weirdly shifting city, only to seemingly have some unknown force jerk his eyesight back down onto the coffee cup. This repeated multiple times until the dog finally cried out in an entirely different voice from the one Caitlin had been hearing,

“Seriously, Compute! What the heck are we going to do about that?”

...The dog was talking to himself, and somehow switching between two voices that sounded nothing alike.

“I-I don't know!” The other voice exclaimed, throwing his paws up into the air. “When I signed up for this whole 'getting you to the mountain to save your life' thing, stopping the end of the world was not in the job description!”

His eyes suddenly snapped in Caitlin's direction, alarmed, as if he had forgotten that she was there. Her expression did all of the talking for her.

“It's....not as weird as it looks.” He offered, but then reconsidered it. “Actually, it's every bit as weird as it looks, keep pouring.”

Caitlin simply shrugged and did her job.

The other voice took over again. “But what are we gonna do? We can't just let them sacrifice people until there are so many Constructs melded into them that they can cover the entire world!”

“I told you, I don't know! I specialize in useless trivia about domestic supernatural threats, not world ending ones!”

“Well, we should focus on what we can do. I know that you're upset about your friends, and we can't do anything for them right now, but we can help those puppies who live outside of the city, right?”

The dog's single ear shot up in alarm, and that much more, er, fancy sounding voice exclaimed, “The puppies!”

He jumped down from the chair, not even sparing Caitlin a glance. He rushed for the door and was gone in an instant. She caught a glimpse of him running across the parking lot through the window, and that was it. She never saw that weird, glowing dog with the two different voices ever again.

Shrugging, she looked down at the nearly empty pot of coffee in her claws. “I don't get paid enough for this crazy blue dog shit.” She complained, and went to clock out for the day.

End Of Chapter

A/N: This chapter is definitely a bit shorter than normal, but I wanted it to act as more of an intro anyway. I figured that a short, weird perspective switch would be interesting to write and read. We'll be back to regular sized chapters after this.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: A Desperate Search

They could hear it. Even at this distance. A constant metallic clanging, thunderous booming, and the hissing of steam. It was all the sounds of a factory amplified to an unnerving degree. Any glimpse of the city that they could still get at this point showed the same eerie sight that they had first seen after being deposited in that pond on the outskirts. The city was shifting and moving about as buildings were dismantled to create something new. It looked as if massive walls were slowly being built up, even though it wasn't as if the amalgamation actually needed such a thing. No living creature or machine could go near that city now, not without falling under their control.

Courage had to fight to ignore the intense pain in his legs as they ran. Even with Computer at the helm it didn't stop Courage from feeling the same pain that his companion could so easily push past to keep them going. Not even their short break at the gas station had been enough to restore strength to his aching limbs. Courage knew that his ill body desperately needed some genuine rest, but with how much he could feel Computer's worry for the puppies, he did not have it in him to speak up. He would endure this for as long as he could.

It had taken them a little while to figure out where they were going. Computer did not know the area particularly well so he could only go off of certain landmarks that he could remember seeing when Charon took him into the city. After a bit of guess work, he managed to find the street he was looking for some distance away from the highway and gas station.

Courage had never thought that it was possible for anyone to be so relieved to see so many run down, boarded up buildings, but that was exactly what Computer was feeling right now. He rushed down the street, looking for a specific turn that he needed to take.

Courage found this place somewhat interesting, in a depressing sort of way. This might very well have been the main street of a small town ages ago. Perhaps the continual growth of the city had caused this place to lose any relevancy it might have once had and most people moved away.

“Almost there!” Computer said when he found the heavily degrading street that he needed to turn down. He could sense just how much Courage was having to fight to not let the pain and exhaustion get to him, so he wanted nothing more than to hurry up and reunite with the puppies so Courage could get the rest that he so badly needed.

They had to slow down considerably on this street thanks to how cracked and overgrown the pavement was with vegetation. Courage inevitably picked up a few images from Computer of the chase he had gone on to catch Spot and get his stolen thing back. Now his companion was left wondering how he had ever managed to keep up with the pup on a road like this.

An extremely old and weathered looking house soon came into view. Courage was amazed that it was still standing with how rotten the wood looked. It reminded him of the farmhouse back in Nowhere, if it had been left abandoned for a decade or two.

Computer was familiar with this place, but passed it up. They instead went around and headed into a small grove of bare, twisted trees. A little beyond that was their destination, something that Computer silently assured to an aching Courage.

But of course, just as they were nearly through the trees, Courage's body finally gave out, much to Computer's dismay. The brief wave of hazy weakness struck and then exploded into indescribable pain. Courage's legs came to a stumbling stop, but they did not fall. Instead, Courage's shaking knees locked into place. Even as every nerve in Courage's body exploded into fiery agony, Computer kept them standing. It would have amazed Courage if it did not hurt so much. He had never, ever been able to stay standing like this during an attack. By now he'd be writhing on the floor, unable to control his limbs.

Computer took a step forward, their shared vision darkening and becoming increasingly red, like the veins in Courage's eyeballs were bursting. Fighting the attack only made it hurt so much worse. Courage felt like every muscle in his body was swelling up and ready to tear apart. He was only getting the smallest amounts of air into his lungs because his chest muscles were locked in place and constricting every breath he could take. He felt like he was drowning on dry land.

And still Computer did not let them drop. He reached out for a tree trunk to steady himself and continued to push past the utter hell Courage's body was going through. But of course, what he could deal with was not the same for Courage.

Another agonizing step forward only increased the pain tenfold, and Courage hit his limit. He wanted to scream, and he could only hope that it would get Computer's attention, but when he tried to do exactly that, he realized with a jolt of horror that he could not do anything at all. The thing that Computer had been trying to avoid, in his desperation to get to the puppies, he was doing it without realizing. Courage was trapped in his own mind, with no control over himself and no means to make his plight known.

Another step and even more liquid fire ignited in Courage's legs and torso. He was suffocating, burning up, having hot knives stabbed into every part of his body over and over again. He screamed uselessly inside of his own head.

'Stop! Please, stop!' He thought, desperate to get Computer's attention, but his companion was so focused, so determined to keep moving and fight through the ever increasing pain that he could not hear Courage calling out to him or sense how much pain he was putting him in.

'Stop! Stop! PLEASE!' Courage begged, his panicked thoughts increasing in tempo as the pain only continued to grow. He could not help but wonder in his agony if Computer's recklessness was about to get them killed. His illness would beat Computer's unshakable determination in the end, and there was no way to know what the damage of this prolonged fight would be.

'Stop! Stop! STOP! STOP! StopStopStopStopStop!'

His mind gave in to fear, panic, and pain, and all conscious thought ceased. There was nothing left other than sheer agony and a feral plea for it to end.

Finally, finally, Computer picked up on Courage's emotions. Horror ripped through him as he realized what he was doing. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, with his concentration broken, he immediately lost control of Courage's limbs and dropped. They both blacked out long before Courage's body hit the ground.

….

Courage woke with a shuddering gasp. Computer jolted back to life in the same moment. They were cushioned by the grass that Courage slowly and painfully raised his head up out of. Drool trailed from his mouth, although his tongue felt like sandpaper. Keeping his head raised like that was simply too tiring for him and so his snout hit the grass again.

He rolled over and saw that the sky was turning a sunset orange. Night was nearly upon them. He could only assume that it was the same day of his attack or else the amalgamation would have likely had the time to expand and bulldoze this area, taking them out along with it.

Mortified by what he had done, Computer pressed himself back in Courage's mind as far as his much bigger presence would allow and let Courage take over in full. It was no use though. No matter how much Courage tried to stand, it hurt too much. All he could do was flounder there in the grass looking pathetic and weak. Computer had no other choice but to take over again, but even he struggled to get Courage standing.

They slowly pressed onward, Courage sinking deeper inside of his own head, too tired to do much else. This concerned Computer considerably, but all he could do was press onward for now. Putting aside the puppies, it was too dangerous to linger in this area with the amalgamation possibly expanding outward. As soon as they were somewhere safe, he would force Courage to rest, end of the world be dammed.

They soon came upon the ruin of a collapsed house and Computer found a small gap in the broken piles of rotten wood. He squeezed through it, having to fight Courage's fatigue just as much as he had to fight to work his way downwards through the hole. He came out in a small clearing in the basement, calling out to puppies before he could even get a good look.

There were no puppies, as he quickly found out with considerable dismay. Signs of their existence still lingered. Empty wrappers were strewn about, along with open, empty cans of soda and bottles of water. There was no way to know when they had abandoned this place, or where they might have gone. Computer was, ultimately, no closer to finding them.

Sighing, he turned and made his way back up through the hole in the ruins. Once on the outside, he collapsed into the grass, suddenly unable to bear the constant pain and exhaustion gripping Courage's ill body.

“Why is everything always going wrong?” He groaned, running both of Courage's paws down his face.

Courage was too wiped out mentally to respond. In fact, he barely heard Computer at all, and he did not have a good grasp on what was going on outside of himself either. His mind was barely functioning. While not unconscious, he was not fully 'there' either. It was just one more thing that Computer was slowly growing more and more worried about.

After a few minutes of resting, and fighting past a feeling of overwhelming defeat, Computer shakily got back onto Courage's feet. He had them go back the way they had come, and once there, he stepped inside that rotten, old house to check if the puppies might have returned there.

It was abandoned too.

He slowly made his way back down the overgrown street, exhausted and overcome with worry. Thinking for a little while, he said to Courage, “I've decided on what we should do next.”

Courage did not respond. He did not even acknowledge that Computer had spoke at all. His presence was a small, dim, dying flame compared to Computer's overbearing one.

“Courage?” His companion asked. “Courage!” He repeated, louder. “COURAGE!”

That shout was enough to shake Courage out of his exhausted stupor. “Y-yeah?”

Silent for a moment, something that Computer had already reluctantly decided upon only became more settled and fully justified in his mind.

“I'm going to search for a little while longer for any clues as to where the puppies might have gone, and after that I'm taking you back to the SCC.”

His declaration brought Courage back to full alertness and he fearfully cried out, “Wait, no! D-don't do that!”

“Courage, I-” He began to argue, the words dying on his lips. He seemed to reconsider what he was going to say and rephrased it, “This...isn't good for you. My presence is wearing you down, and it will be the end of you at the rate things are going. We both knew from the very start that this was never going to be sustainable. Besides, I blew it back there. It's proof enough that no matter how hard I try to act otherwise, I am still made to suppress the mind of my host, and all it takes is one slip up like that to make you suffer unjustifiably. We may be able to exist like this in something at least resembling harmony, but I still have ultimate power over you, and you know better than most that I'm not someone who should have any sort of power over others.”

“But, but-” Courage argued, trying to get his worn out brain to start thinking properly again. “We can't go back to the SCC! You're the only person and machine that can go near the amalgamation now without immediately being taken over. What do you think is going to happen when the SCC figures that out? Nothing good, obviously!”

Computer shook his head listlessly. “It doesn't matter. I will not be the cause of your death, and since we don't have another means to remove me from your brain right now, we have to go back to Elizabeth.”

They continued to argue about this until they had walked nearly the entire length of the dilapidated main street. They only stopped when they heard the rumble of an engine followed by an amplified voice declaring a mandatory evacuation.

The two of them hastily looked around for a place to hide, just as an SCC van turned down the street. While Computer did want to go with them, he wasn't ready to leave just yet. He still had some small amount of hope that he might be able to figure out what had become of the puppies.

It was getting dark enough that their glow would easily be seen, so they needed to find a hiding place that would conceal them entirely. Courage's eyes scanned the boarded up windows and doors closest to them, and noted a window with one board missing. It would be a tight squeeze, but...

Computer acknowledged what he was thinking and went over to it. He jump upward, the tips of his fingers just barely managing to reach the windowsill. He climbed up onto it and squeezed through, probably pulling some of Courage's fur out in the process. It was not a moment too soon though. They heard the van rumble past as one of the people inside continued to repeat the evacuation message over a loudspeaker.

“Did you hear that?” Computer said, which was a pointless thing to ask since they shared the same hearing. “It looks like they've set up an evacuation camp for the people who have been displaced. I bet Elizabeth would be there, and the puppies might also...” He trailed off, knowing that it was wishful thinking. The puppies had been on their own for well over a month. Anything could have happened to them in that stretch of time.

“Hey, who are you!” An old, crackling voice suddenly yelled, pulling Computer out of his thoughts.

He looked up in alarm to see an old, decrepit, shaggy dog standing in the darkened doorway across the room. He was somehow even smaller than Courage himself. His black, beady eyes leered at them from behind a curtain of dirty, tangled fur.

“This is my house!” He snapped, shuffling forward on stiff legs. “You can't have it!”

The elderly dog was not exactly a threat. At most he would try to bite them, or more like gum them with his toothless mouth.

Computer raised Courage's paws in a nonthreatening gesture. “We're not moving in or anything! We just needed a place to hide!”

The dog came to a slow and somewhat delayed stop, like it took awhile for his body to catch up with what his brain was telling it to do.

“Is that so?” He asked, raising a big, shaggy eyebrow. “At least knock then for goodness sake! You're going to give this ol' mutt a heart attack droppin' in like this!” He let out a huff that sent his facial fur flying for a moment. He then turned and went on muttering to himself, “...Makin' me think that Charon's come back from the dead to start harassin' those of us with nothin' but the fur on our back for protection money again.”

Computer blinked in surprise at the dog's grumpy ranting. “You know that Charon is dead?”

The elderly dog whipped around again. “O'course! Everyone could see the smoke, even from here, and then some stray came back from the city to tell us the good news.”

“I might have had something to do with that...” Computer offered, prepping to ask his next question with the hope that it might instill some goodwill in the crotchety old man. “Hey, you wouldn't have happened to see any puppies around here lately? Spot's group?”

The dog's beady eyes sparkled with understanding. “Them kids? Oh, yes. I've seen 'em. They disappeared for awhile after Charon took Spot. Figured they had a stash of food hidden somewhere for when the inevitable finally happened. I'm just surprised Spot could keep 'em from eatin' through it before then. Well, they did eventually run out, 'cause I saw them around here scroungin' for any food that they could find. I suppose that poor Spot kid got blown up along with Charon, if one of Charon's fighters didn't get to him first. He was always lookin' out for the rest of them kids. Bit of a sad sight to see them all so desperate after everything he did for 'em.”

Courage's ear drooped in dismay as Computer took in everything he was being told. “Do you have any idea where they might be now? Have you seen them around recently?”

Part of him was terrified that they had left for the city in a desperate bid to find food, and if that were the case then they had likely been caught up in the amalgamation's attack. The only thing that offered him any sort of comfort was that the amalgamation would have known about them through his memories and so they would have tried to use them against him. Since they had not been there with the others, maybe...

“Yeah,” The elderly dog answered. “I saw 'em this morning.”

Computer jumped onto Courage's aching feet at that.

“W-where? Do you know where they went?”

The dog waved a paw toward the gap in the window behind Computer. “I look out through that window a lot, to pass the time. Those black vans have been going through here all day, tell'n us to go to this evacuation camp of theirs. Bah! I ain't leavin' my home! No, sir! Don't care if danger is comin'! I'll die here if I must!”

Impatient, Computer interrupted his ranting, “But what about the puppies?”

“Oh, right. Well, they were doin' their thing this mornin'. Gettin' ready to split up to look for food. One of the vans came through then and they all hid, like you did. Once it was gone, they came back together and started talkin'.”

“...And?” Computer pressed when the old dog trailed off into silence.

“They decided that they were going to head off to that evacuation camp because there might be food there. If yer lookin' for 'em then you've missed 'em by almost a day.”

Relief washed over Computer. His hunch had been right. Not only could he save Courage now, but the puppies were safe in the place that he wanted to get to anyway. He hoped that he would be able to see them again soon.

“Thank you.” He told the dog. “We'll, er, I'll leave you and your 'home' in peace.”

One more fur destroying squeeze through the gap again and he was back on the outside. Not a moment too soon either because the van was circling back toward him.

Ignoring Courage's plea not to do this, he took a deep breath and stepped out into the middle of the road. The van slowed to a stop. He could see the two occupants inside staring at him with their mouths agape in complete and total shock.

“Yeah, uh, Missing Government Super Weapon here. I would very much like it if you could give me a ride to this camp place you've got set up so that I can talk to Elizabeth.”

The two SCC people looked at each other with absolute terror in their expressions and proceeded to hug each other while screaming.

“I don't have time for this.” Computer grumbled, stepping toward the van. He climbed up the front of it, crawled across the hood, and pressed his snout into the windshield with a deep frown and piercing glare. “Let me in before I go all Super Weapon on you morons!”

Still hugging each other and trembling, one of them reached forward and pressed a button on the dashboard. The sound of the back doors opening could be heard.

“Thank you for your cooperation!” Computer sarcastically told them with his face still pressed up against the windshield.

End Of Chapter

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: The Camp

It took well over an hour for the van to reach its destination. Courage had inevitably drifted off to sleep during that time while Computer himself did his best not to let Courage's body jolt around whenever a bump in the road was hit. He seemed to have done his job well because Courage never once woke up, or maybe it was just that Courage was so wiped out that nothing would have been able to wake him anyway.

In any case, the van had stopped moving a little while ago. Nobody had come to open the back doors, but Computer could often hear people speaking on the outside. They were probably trying to figure out what to do with their returned super weapon. It did not matter to him, just so long as this ended with him in a different body from Courage's. He still felt awful about what he had done before, and he could not bear being the cause of Courage's suffering like this. The sooner Courage was back to normal, the better.

Easily another hour passed before the back doors of the van were ripped open and Computer suddenly had multiple guns pointed directly at him from the outside. As if that would have saved those morons if his power were working properly right now! An obnoxiously bright spotlight was being shined into the van too, practically blinding him. He could not see much on the outside aside from the guns and the silhouettes of the people holding them.

All of the commotion resulted in Courage waking up, which had Computer fuming. He was so tired of these morons acting like he was about to blow them all up!

“What's going on?” Courage asked in a sleepy tone, just as blinded by the light as Computer was.

“We're getting the usual SCC welcome.” He grumbled back with considerable annoyance.

A figure stepped into the light with her hands on her hips. “I cannot believe this!” She exclaimed, sounding more furious than amazed. “I was sure that the amalgamation would have caught you and reintegrated you back into themselves by now. I cannot help but wonder if this is some sort of trap, because I cannot think of any reason why you would willfully return to the SCC.”

Computer hopped down from the bench he had been sitting on for the length of their journey to this place. A gasp rose from the shadowy figures and even more guns were pointed at him.

“Oh, enough!” He huffed. “I'm here because I want you to move me into a different body. My presence is wearing Courage down and something needs to be done about it.” Realizing that he needed to keep up appearances, he quickly added as cover, “I could very easily move myself into another body, but I cannot modify my own programming, so unless you put me back to normal, whoever else I possess stays awake too, and I would rather not have to deal with that.”

“Ah, I see.” Elizabeth mused. “That can be arranged, but it will take some time. The machine I used to move you into the dog's brain was lost in the evacuation. I will need to find the parts required to make something similar.”

Elizabeth raised a hand and the SCC soldiers backed away.

“Follow me. I will assign you a tent that you and the dog can use until I am ready to remove you from his brain.”

Computer cautiously moved toward the end of the van. He kept expecting the guns to rise up again and start shooting, but it really was looking as if Elizabeth was willing to cooperate with him.

He jumped down into the grass and a cool night breeze ruffled his fur. Upon moving past the spotlight, he finally got a good look at the SCC's evacuation camp. There were enough lights that even in the dark he could see everything fairly well. A huge clearing was spread out before him, and there were more tents set up across it than he could ever hope to count. At the other end of the clearing, a hill gently sloped upward before leveling off at the top where more tents could be seen. There were no tents on the slope itself, but he could see dark shapes moving up and down between the two sections of the camp. Even at this late hour there were still SCC vans showing up to deposit evacuees. Huge lines of people could be seen waiting to be assigned a tent.

Computer stayed a few paces behind Elizabeth as they walked through the lower half of the camp. He could feel Courage silently urging him to tell her about their encounter with the amalgamation and what they had found out. Computer wasn't sure if it would help, but the situation was bad enough that it couldn't possibly hurt to tell her.

“Hey, uh, there's something you should know.” He said, picking up his pace to walk beside her.

She barely spared him a glance. “Speak up then.”

“...No patience at all, huh?” Computer grumbled, suddenly reconsidering talking to her.

Courage harshly whispered to him, “Stop letting her get under your skin and just tell her!”

“Fine, fine.” He sighed, running a paw down his face. “Listen here, you annoying woman! We did encounter the amalgamation before we escaped the city. You must know by now that they are taking control of anyone who comes near them. Why else would people have stopped escaping the city all at once? That city and everyone still trapped inside are theirs now, and they are planning on sacrificing those people to create more Constructs to add to themselves! Their power and influence will only to continue to grow! They could reach this camp in a matter of days!”

“Calm down.” Elizabeth coolly replied. “The ritual used to create Constructs requires a considerable amount of time to set up properly along with certain materials that are not easy to come by. Even with an entire army under their control capable of setting up multiple rituals at once, the amalgamation still cannot mass produce Constructs in a short amount of time. Even if they could, I don't think that they would be so quick to meld more into themselves. They were knocked out of commission for well over a decade last time. They will want to be cautious this time around, I'm sure. I suspect that they will take the time to experiment first to see if they can find a way to fuse new Constructs into themselves without causing a catastrophic amount of damage to themselves. If they are unable to, it is unlikely that they will do anything until they feel secure enough that they can survive another decade or two broken and helpless.”

Computer frowned and picked up even more speed, feeling Courage's leg muscles protest the increase in activity. He pulled ahead of Elizabeth and stopped in front of her, forcing her to slow to a stop as well.

Glaring hatefully at her, he said, “You are much too cavalier about this for someone who has done nothing but consistently make the situation worse at every opportunity! You are not taking this threat seriously enough! The SCC should be doing more than just setting up a camp that's probably going to end up crushed under a wall of metal when my siblings reach starts to extend this far in a week or two.”

Elizabeth crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “Oooh, does the talking calculator that's convinced itself that it is a person think that it knows how to run my organization better than me?”

Computer's frown deepened.

“I am perfectly aware of how dire the situation is.” She affirmed with a grumpy frown of her own. “There is very little left that any of us can do to stop that thing. For the reasons I've already outlined, I believe that the situation is ever so slightly more hopeful than it might seem. If my theory is correct and they cannot expand their influence as easily as it might seem, I will have time to do some research and possibly come up with a new means to stop them.”

Eyes narrowing, Computer sarcastically argued back, “Oh, great! Another ill thought out plan for you and your organization to balls-up and make everything twenty times worse! Well, whatever you decide to do, keep me out of it! I'm only here because I want to get back into a body of my own for Courage's sake!”

Elizabeth pushed forward, laughing. “Body of your own? You can't have a body of your own, you damn parasite! You are lucky that I am even giving you the option! You are nothing more than SCC property and you do not have the right to any sort of autonomy!”

Computer rolled his eyes and started walking after her again. “Well, I may be a parasite but at least I'm not a mummified ghoul who can't run this organization for shi-”

Elizabeth wheeled around with an absolutely terrifying expression. Well, it was terrifying for Courage. Computer was utterly unfazed.

“Not another word, parasite! Or else I will make you regret returning to the SCC!”

Computer opened his mouth to argue further but Courage stopped him. He was the only one who seemed to have realized just how dangerous the situation was getting. He had never seen Elizabeth this angry before.

In a big huff, she turned around and stomped onward. They eventually reached the hill and made their way up to the top. Courage could sense how much Computer wanted to keep angering this woman that he despised so much, but Courage kept their mouth firmly shut...for his safety.

They walked down the first line of tents that overlooked the lower half of the camp below. Elizabeth checked several of the signs posted to every tent until finally she found one that she was looking for.

“This will be your tent.” She announced in an emotionless tone. “A certain amount of food rations are given out to everyone daily. I'll send someone with a little extra since that dog looks like he is about to keel over.”

“Thank you for your boundless generosity.” Computer quipped before Courage could stop him.

Elizabeth leaned down, pressed a hand into Courage's back, and shoved him into the tent. She leered at him through a gap in the opening. “I will summon you in a day or two, after I've had the time to scavenge for the parts I need to create another machine that can extract you from the dog. I do not want to see hide nor hair of you until then, got it?”

“Happily!” Computer agreed. Although before Elizabeth could leave, he quickly asked, “You wouldn't have happened to see a group of puppies running around here, have you?”

She stared at him like he was stupid.

“Do you really think that I've been keeping tabs on every single mutt that shows up here?” She waved a hand dismissively. “I have people to do that for me.”

She turned and stomped away before Computer could question her further.

With a sigh, he turned to get a better look at the tent. There was nothing special about it. It was made out of white fabric that didn't even have a floor. Were it not for a cot with legs that were only just slightly raised above the ground, they would have had to sleep in the grass. The cot had a thin pillow and an even thinner blanket. Aside from that, they had been provided a battery powered lantern, and that was it.

Computer was now faced with a dilemma. He so badly wanted to go search for the puppies, but he also knew how badly Courage needed rest.

Sensing Computer's conflicting emotions, Courage put on a tired smile and said, “It's alright. Let's go look for them for a little while. I can handle it.”

Computer turned Courage's expression into a skeptical one. “Are you sure? I can wait until morning if I must.”

Courage lightly laughed at that. “You'll keep me awake with your worrying. Beside, by the time we get back there should be some food waiting for us.”

All too aware of Courage's hunger, Computer nodded. “Fine then, but I'm going to keep this short, for your sake.”

He pushed open the tent flap and stepped back out into the night. They both took note of the number on their tent so that they would not lose track of which one was theirs. Looking out at all of the tents below, it slowly dawned on Computer just how daunting of a task this would be.

“They might be asleep by now.” He mused, looking over at a neighboring tent. “I guess we're just going to have to invade some privacy then!”

He peeked into the tent. Someone immediately screamed and a shoe went sailing over his head.

Jumping back, he exclaimed, “Or not!”

Courage chuckled at his companion's antics, but he was just too tired to take part in any of it at this point.

Computer proceeded to make his way through much of the upper part of the camp. There was plenty of activity going on with SCC soldiers moving about and people trying to find their assigned tents. Most of the newcomers were human though with very few dogs among them, and no puppies to speak of.

“I should probably call it quits for the night.” He finally said after nearly an hour of fruitless searching.

Courage had nodded off multiple times but it was hard to stay asleep when your body was moving around outside of your own control. It was like having a constant falling dream jolting you out of your sleep.

“I just want something to eat.” He told Computer in a sleepy voice.

“Right, let's get back to the tent then.” He affirmed.

It was a little difficult to find their way back. The camp felt like a maze when the vast majority of the tents looked exactly the same. They soon reached the edge of the hill though, which meant they had to be getting close.

It was right around then, as Computer was checking the tent numbers, that someone rushed up behind him and smacked him in the back. He was sent stumbling snout first into the grass. Whoever it was remained perched atop his back.

“It really IS him!” A small voice said in amazement, and all of a sudden the owner of the voice began bouncing up and down on his back. “Guys! Guys! Guys! It's him!”

There was the sound of many small feet moving through the grass and then Computer's vision filled with a sight that he had been longing to see for such a long time now.

One of the puppies leaned down and squinted at him. “You look...different.”

The missing ear and the lack of glasses no doubt made it obvious.

Computer got up, sending the puppy on his back tumbling into the grass behind him. “It's a long story.” He told them. “And that's not what's important right now. How are you all? It took me awhile to get back, I know, but it couldn't be helped. I hope that you gluttons were able to make the food last for a little while.” He could help but smile at that last part, although it did not completely mask his look of concern.

“....What happened to Spot?” The voice behind him asked.

He turned around to find that it was Lily who had tackled him, and unable to stop himself, his smile fell into a painful frown. Not only because he had been asked about Spot, but also because of what state Lily's mom was in right now.

“I-I don't know.” He answered truthfully. “He was hurt during our escape from Charon's and I was not able to find out what happened to him before we had to leave the city.”

“We heard that Charon's place got blown up.” One of the puppies interjected. “We all thought that you and Spot got blown up too.”

“I'm afraid that we faced much worse than that.” He explained, shuddering at the memory of Spot impaled among several of the teeth of one of Charon's fighters. “Look, they gave you guys a tent, right? Take me there and I'll tell you more about what happened.”

“Follow me!” One of the puppies yelled in that familiar, overly energetic way.

“Oh, but before we go,” Computer quickly added. “I should probably let you all know.” He placed his paws onto his chest. “This is Courage.” He announced with a grin. “I was able to get him back...just in a very unusual way.”

“Uh...hi?” Courage took over to say.

An amazed gasp ran through the group of puppies at the sudden shift in voices.

“I suppose I'll have to try and explain this too.” Computer added.

One of the puppies stepped forward, grinning mischievously. “So did you finally tell him that you lo-”

Computer rocketed off of his feet, tackled the pup before he could finish what he was saying, and clamped his muzzle shut. “No! Shut up!” He demanded while all the puppies looked on, giggling.

...Courage just pretended not to hear any of that...for Computer's sake.

In any case, the puppies brought them to their tent where they showed them that they still had the bag with all of Courage's and Computer's things in it. Computer was rather relieved to see it. The old book from Nowhere Library was still very important if he was ever to find the wellspring.

He spent a considerable amount of time telling the puppies about what had happened to him and Spot after Charon took them away. This was the first time Courage got a somewhat clearer picture as to what Computer had gone through while they were apart, although his companion still only hinted at some of the darker things that he went through. Afterwards, Computer tried to explain to the pups what exactly he was, although they only really got it after he oversimplified it considerably.

Most of the puppies were already asleep when he got up to head back to his own tent. Courage was barely holding on himself. Only the near constant rumble of hunger in his stomach kept him from passing out.

“I'll come back to see you all tomorrow.” Computer told the handful of pups who were still awake.

Without warning, Lily lunged forward and hugged him around the middle. “Nobody is ever supposed to come back when Charon takes them away!” She bawled. “I-I thought you were gone forever...just like mommy!”

A chunk of ice formed inside Computer's chest. He wanted to tell Lily about her mom, but...

He placed a paw on her back and hastily said, “I'm glad to be back. Now, head off to bed so that I can find Courage some food before he wastes away.”

She pulled back, tears running down her cheeks. Trying to hide his own feeling about all of this, he patted her on the head and left as quickly as he could.

“I'm not very good at this, am I?” He asked Courage, but Courage's consciousness had drifted off to sleep again leaving him with only his own thoughts and guilt.

He returned to their tent to find a small pile of weird tubes and a few bottles of water on their cot. He picked one of the tubes up and inspected it. There was nothing on it that labeled what was inside.

“Courage, wake up. Dinner is here. A very, very late and mysterious dinner, I might add.”

He let Courage take over to do the eating since it was the least he could do after putting him through the wringer all day. Courage gathered up several of the tubes and a bottle of water and limped out of the tent. He sat down in the grass and looked out over the dark horizon. Even from here he could just barely make out the lights of the city shifting and moving around unnaturally in the distance.

He unscrewed the top of one of the tubes, sniffed it, and tried it out. Surprisingly, it was applesauce.

“At least they're not feeding everyone mashed up grass, or leaves, or something else just as cheap.” Computer muttered out.

Courage eagerly tried another with a taste that he could not quite pinpoint. Maybe Computer was a little hasty to declare that they weren't being fed mushy grass. Still, Courage happily made his way through each one until he was feeling full. Only then did he finally start to feel a little better.

He remained sitting there in the grass for a little while afterwards, just enjoying being able to rest. It was a temporary and false sense of calm, of course. He knew that perfectly well. Even now he could see their doom on the horizon and it would not be long before it reached them in this place, unless they continued to flee.

“You know,” He began wistfully. “I really did believe for the longest time that your siblings were not actually evil. That if they could just be split apart again that they would stop being so...so sadistic and cruel. But now? After what they did to everyone in the city? I'm not so sure anymore.”

Computer let out an ironic laugh. “It really must be the end of the world if you are giving up on those you once thought were redeemable.” He closed Courage's eyes and sighed. “Just look at it this way, if I were still with them, I would have gone along with all of that without a second thought, even if it is not something that I would have wanted to do as a separate entity. You have the right idea about them. I do not doubt that several of my siblings are truly sadistic monsters who love inflicting pain on others, but even that is only because that is what the SCC molded them into. They probably have the most control over the amalgamation because so many of the others are hurting and want revenge for what was done to them. Another half is likely too apathetic at this point to go against what the others want, and those who do not want to do harm probably do not have much of a say at this point. If they could somehow be separated, I do think that most of them could be reasoned with.”

“But they can't be separated.” Courage answered, his tone grim.

“That does seem to be the case, unfortunately.”

“If they can't be saved, and the amalgamation is all of their negative emotions feeding in to each other in an endless loop, and that's causing them to do utterly evil things, how can I believe that there's still something redeemable about them?”

Computer placed Courage's paws behind his head. “You never gave up on me, now did you?”

Courage frowned. “You didn't just murder half a city of people and enslave the survivors!”

“My metaphorical hands are not exactly clean either. I went and murdered plenty of people before I knew it was wrong, and I've killed people who I believed deserved it, and as the amalgamation I slaughtered an entire hospital filled with people. Nurses, doctors, receptionists, patients, visitors, janitors, the SCC. We did not discriminate. Nobody was innocent in our eyes. I did not want to do such a thing as myself, but as the amalgamation, I did. It's the same for the majority of my siblings trapped in that maelstrom of hatred and suffering. If you've given up on them, shouldn't I be considered just as irredeemable as them at this point?”

Courage chuckled sadly. “I never thought that you'd start defending your siblings after everything they've done to you.”

“Yeah, well, when you spend some time trapped in the same hellish predicament they've been stuck in for well over a decade, you tend to gain some perspective.”

“Hmmm, well, if you're able to sympathize with them even after everything they've done, then I guess I will have to as well!” He grinned. “I've got a reputation to keep!”

Groaning painfully, he got to his feet. His legs felt like they were turning into stone.

“We'll figure out a way to stop this, I'm sure if it.” He went on. “I may not be back home in Nowhere, but I still gotta protect Muriel.”

“Don't get ahead of yourself.” Computer interjected. “For now you just need to rest. You've had something to eat so now get to bed!”

“Okay, mom!” Courage joked back.

Computer took over and made him go back into the tent. Forced to lay down on the cot, Courage was pretty sure that he fell asleep long before his head even hit the pillow.

End Of Chapter

Chapter Text

A/N: There's a reason why the last few chapters have all been coming out so quickly. I've been really hyped to get to this one for reasons you're about to find out.

Chapter 4: One Wrong Made Right

Courage slept soundly for at least a few hours, but soon nightmares began to plague him and it seemed that every time he managed to get back to sleep another nightmare would jolt him awake.

At first Computer had thought that Courage was having nightmares about what they had gone through in the city, but eventually he started to catch flashes of Courage's memories of the nightmares and what he found mortified him. Still, even as Courage tossed and turned restlessly, unable to sleep, Computer did not speak up about it. As guilty as he felt, he did not want to talk about this. He had not meant to hurt Courage with it. It had been a desperate situation back there and he had just been trying to get him to understand. He had thought that he had been careful, that he had kept the memory brief enough that Courage would not truly be affected by it, but tonight was showing that he had been very, very wrong.

Courage rolled over again, groaning. Every inch of his body ached. The fact that his mind would not stop troubling him only made it so much worse. He could no doubt sense how much Computer did not want to talk about this, but it was perhaps inevitable that he would have to say something to him about it if he were ever to find some peace of mind.

“Compute?”

Computer was silent for one long moment and then all but begged, “Can we please not do this right now? I really don't want to think about it, but I am sorry for putting something like that on you. I never, ever wanted you to see even a sliver of it. I don't know what I was thinking, doing that to you back there.”

Courage stifled a whimper. “I never actually got how bad it was, not until you showed me that small piece of your memory.”

“I know.” Computer softly confirmed.

“I really thought I did though, that I had some sort of understanding of what it was like for you, but I really didn't.”

“I never expected you to.” Computer assured him with a small, understanding but completely emotionless chuckle.

“It was only, what? Three or four seconds of your memory? It was just awful. I could barely stand it for even that long, and it was like that the entire time for you. I don't know how you survived it, or how you managed to come out of it sane.”

Computer chuckled a little louder. “If there's one thing I've come to understand on this journey of ours, it's that I'm just as mad as the rest of you insane people.”

“I can't wrap my head around it.” Courage admitted sadly. “I just don't understand how someone could put anyone else through that level of pain for months on end and get any sort of enjoyment out of it.” Tears filled his eyes. “How could he do that to you? How? And you're still suffering from what he did, even now. So much of the damage he did is permanent, and its probably going to be the thing that kills you too.”

A twinge of self consciousness struck Computer as he felt Courage put all of his attention on to his cracked and broken form. The eternal scars of what had been done to him, ever spreading until...the end.

“You say that like it hasn't been the all encompassing question on my mind ever since it happened. I used to think that it was some sort of karmic justice. That I was being punished for letting Owen die, but now I know that I was just made to think that as another means for Him to torture me. There isn't any sort of justification or explanation for what He did. It just is what it is. And I have to live with that, and I suppose I will have to die with it too.”

Courage choked back a sob as his blurry, wavering vision moved up toward the dimly lit roof of the tent. He had rolled over onto his back. “I'm so sorry for what happened to you.” He said, despite knowing that no apology could ever change or help what had happened.

“It's not all bad.” Computer offered. “I don't think I ever would have met you if He had not put me on the path that ended with me in the attic. If the opportunity presented itself that I could go back in time and somehow stop what happened from ever occurring, if it meant that I would never meet you, I'm not so sure that I would take it now. Maybe at an earlier point in time I would have, but that's just not the way I feel now. I've come to terms with much of what He did to me, and it doesn't hurt as bad as it used to.” He put on an ironic little smile, even as Courage's tears continued to wet the fur around his cheeks. “The world may be ending, and I may be nothing more than a broken, old machine on his last legs, but at least I'm with you, and I'll take that any day over the lonely existence I was living long before He even came along.”

Courage sat up suddenly as a thought entered his mind. He wiped the tears from his eyes and said with complete and total resolution, “We're finding you a name. Right here, right now.”

Computer blinked in surprise. “Really? Don't you think this is a bit sudden? It's the middle of the night.”

“I'm sure.” Courage answered, rolling out of the cot and getting onto his feet. “We've put this off for way too long.” He smiled and then added, “And I've been letting you be picky for way too long.”

“I suppose I have been letting perfect be the enemy of...having a name.” He made Courage cross his arms. “But this had better not end with you giving me a name like Jenny or else I will never let you hear the end of it.”

“Jenny?” Courage snorted.

“Knowing you, you'll find the most awful name possible and just keep calling me that until it sticks.”

“I'll cross Jenny off the list then.” Courage joked, stifling laughter. “Speaking of which, I want to find that book with the names in it. Since the puppies still have our things, we'll have to go back to their tent to get it.”

“I'll leave you to do your thing then.” Computer replied, settling comfortably in the back of Courage's brain. If Courage wanted to lug his aching body through the camp, that was his prerogative. Computer was plenty happy not to take part.

Courage stepped out of the tent and into the cold night air. He could see every puff of his own breath. There were not many people still out and about at this hour, with only a few SCC soldiers patrolling the camp. Out on the horizon, just the thinnest line of morning light was beginning to tint the dark sky orange.

Courage had a little trouble finding the puppies tent again, but he soon located it regardless. Despite a few weird looks, none of the SCC soldiers bothered him.

He carefully and quietly opened the flap to their tent. The puppies only had one cot like everyone else so they were all piled on top of each other as they slept. He got some sense from Computer that this was how they normally slept anyway.

He could see the bag with their things near this tent's lantern. He carefully made his way over, trying to avoid waking the puppies up. He grabbed it without a hitch and slowly made his way back outside. He was nearly back to his own tent when he heard a sound. Worried that an SCC soldier might be following him, he whipped around. Much to his surprise, he found Lily standing there, fully awake and without a hint of sleepiness.

“What were you doing?” She asked in a painfully innocent tone.

Courage could feel Computer's grief over the fact that he could not tell the pup that her mother was alive because there was so little chance that they would be able to free her from the amalgamation's control. He could not even tell the pup her forgotten name because that would inevitably lead to her asking him how he had found it out.

“I was just-” Courage began, but Computer cut him off.

“Courage has, for reasons I will never understand, decided that he wants to find a proper name for me at this ungodly hour.”

“I wanna help.” The pup replied without a second of hesitation.

Computer shrugged and told Courage,” I did tell her way back when that she's free to take a crack at finding a name for me.”

“Alright,” Courage relented, not that he had been seriously considering telling her 'no'. He was just a little surprised by her eagerness to want to help name Computer, that was all.

The three of them returned to the tent and Lily immediately jumped into Courage's cot. The second he sat down and placed the bag on his legs, she grabbed it and started rooting around inside to find the book. Courage had to admit that there was something about her that reminded him just a little too much of 'little' Muriel, but maybe this was just the way all kids were like. The thought of it made him shudder.

She yanked the book out and opened it up in her lap. She stared down at it for a moment before looking up at them, and without a single change in her cheerful, energetic tone, she said, “I can't read.”

“...Oh, right.” Computer slowly uttered out. “I probably should have figured that out way sooner.”

“We'll help you.” Courage offered, picking the book up out of her lap.

Two long hours proceeded to stretch by as they went through as many names as possible. The sun had come up by then and plenty of morning activity could be heard out in the camp. They were not much closer to finding a name for Computer, but they had at least narrowed down a few that might fit.

Computer rubbed Courage's eyes, regretful that he could not sleep in his current state. Even Lily was starting to tire out again.

“You know what? Just pick one already.” He relented, yawning on Courage's behalf. “I'll accept whatever you decide just so long as we can get this taken care of.”

“Jenny.” Courage said with a snicker.

“Courage, I swear I will-”

“I like that name.” Lily broke in.

“Not you too!”

Courage placed a paw to his chin and used his other paw to flip to a page where they had pinpointed a name that might work. “I have an idea.” He said, ripping the name out of the page. He then went through and found the other names they had considered and ripped them out too. Once he was done, he folded the names up and said, “I'm going to, uh, throw these, I guess? Pick one up off the floor and whichever one it is, that will be your name.”

“Not the most elegant way to go about this, but if it gets this over with...”

Courage tossed the pieces of paper into the air and watched them float to the floor. Before Computer could even stand up, Lily yelled, “I want to pick!” and dove after a piece of paper. She brought it to him with a cheerful exclamation of, “This one!”

“Can't be any worse than the one I would have picked.” He said and reached Courage's paw out so that she could drop it into his palm.

He opened the piece of paper and squinted. “Atticus? Huh, I guess I can live with that.”

Courage smiled. “Are you sure you want to be an Atticus? I still think Jenn-MPH!”

Computer...Atticus had forced Courage's mouth shut and was keeping it shut.

“I picked the best one!” Lily cheered, dancing in a circle with her tail wagging. Two seconds later, she yawned loudly, proceeded to steal Courage's pillow, and promptly fell fast asleep on top of it.

Keeping his voice low to avoid waking her, Courage asked, “What embarrassing nickname am I supposed to call you now that I can't use Compute? Attici? But that kinda implies more than one.” He looked down at his paws, raising the left one first,“Compute-” then he raised his right paw, “Attici-” and squinted, “Cacti?”

“I think you need sleep more than she does.” Atticus drolly answered. “You'll have plenty of time to come up with a dumb nickname later, don't worry. I have complete faith in your stupidity to find just the right nickname to drive me up the wall with.”

“Okay, Jenny.”

With a thoroughly annoyed groan, Atticus made Courage flop backward onto his cot, shut his eyes, and refused to let him open them again.

“Go to sleep!” He demanded.

“You could be a little nicer, you know.” Courage teased.

“You've used up all of my nice points for the day.”

“It's technically tomorrow...”

“You've used up all of my nice points for tomorrow too.”

“Shhh!” Came Lily's voice from nearby. “You guys are too loud!” She complained sleepily.

“Sorry!” Courage harshly whispered, laughing sheepishly. He then turned his attention back to Atticus and said in a much quieter voice, “I'm not really sleepy anymore anyway.”

“Oh? And what's all of this tiredness I feel then?”

“...You always feel that way no matter what body you're in.”

Atticus laughed. “You've got me there.”

“Well, I don't want to sleep either way. We're probably not going to be like this for much longer so we should enjoy the time we have left together.”

“You make it sound like we're about to be killed. Don't make it seem like such a tragedy that I'm moving back into a different body. I'll still be around.”

“You know what I mean, Compute...er, Atticus.”

“For goodness sake, Courage. I really don't mind what you call me. You've more than earned the right, so if you don't want to use my new name, I'm perfectly okay with-”

Courage shook his head and broke in with, “No, it defeats the purpose if I keep using your old name and nickname.”

“I sense that you see this as a dehumanization thing. You should be more than aware by now that the last thing I feel is that you're dehumanizing me when you use my old name.”

Courage wasn't about to relent on this. “Look, this is just something that's going to take some getting used to, that's all. I'll stop messing it up eventually. If we really do need to compromise on this, well, maybe we can have a One Free Compute per day, and if I go over the limit, you can mock me relentlessly about it.”

Atticus smiled. “I'll hold you to that, you know, and I suspect you'll be regretting it very soon.”

“If it gets me to stop messing up, I'll gladly take the abuse.” He replied with a chuckle.

“Well, since you've already messed this up for today, I will be exacting vengeance by making you get some sleep because I'm tired of feeling your tiredness.”

“Okay, okay!” Courage harshly whispered. “I'll try to go back to sleep. It's not like you're going to leave me alone until I do anyway.”

“Precisely.”

Courage pulled the paper thin blanket over himself and snuggled in. The already uncomfortable cot only became worse without the pillow, but there was no chance Lily would give it back now.

Yawning, he softly uttered out without thinking, “Goodnight, Compu...Atticus.”

“You really are bad at this.” Atticus chuckled. “I'm going to have to start thinking of ways to make your life miserable until you get this sorted out. You asked me to do this and I'm really going to make you regret it.”

“I'm shaking in my non-existent boots right now.”

“Oh, you will.” He threatened, laughing softly enough not to wake Lily up but still plenty maliciously enough. Finally, he said, “Goodnight to you too, Courage.” With a slightly mocking edge. He waited a few minutes, and once Courage was a little more closer to falling asleep, he said in a much more genuine tone, “In all seriousness though. Thank you, Courage. For everything.”

A vice-like sadness gripped Courage's chest. “Don't thank me. All I've ever tried to do is make up for all the ways you've been wronged in what small way that I can. None of this should have been needed in the first place, and you shouldn't feel like you need to be thankful just for being treated like an actual person for a change.”

“It's the way I feel regardless, so you're just going to have to put up with it. Don't discount all that you've done. There were so many times you would have been perfectly justified in giving up on me, even before we set out on this journey, but you never did. I owe you everything for that, and so, thank you.”

“You owe me, huh?” Courage mused dangerously.

“...I probably should have worded that differently.”

“Hmmm...”

“This is the part where I need to start praying to some mechanical deity, don't I?”

“Wait, I know!” Courage exclaimed. “I want a dumb nickname!”

Atticus was silent for a moment before letting out a bewildered, “Huh?”

“I'm serious. I want you to give me a dumb nickname. You never call me anything anymore.”

“You do realize that's been a conscious effort on my part, right? I'd rather keep going in the opposite direction.”

“Oh, come on. You of all people can come up with a dumb nickname for me. Why not something like Cur?”

“You could not even pay me to call you that.”

“Not even for a cup of coffee?”

“...Maybe.”

Courage chuckled at that. “Well, we've got time. I'm sure you'll think of something before your siblings can bulldoze their way over here and kill us all.”

“Maybe I should be thinking up insulting names to call them for when that happens instead. You seem to have your priorities mixed up...Cur.”

Silence followed and Courage could sense his companion's intense dislike of that nickname. He grinned.

“Yeah, no.” Atticus quickly intervened. “There is no way I'm going to keep calling you that, so don't think you can badger me into it. No amount of coffee is going to work either, so don't even try!”

“Aww...” Courage complained in jest.

“Look, promise me you'll get some sleep and I'll spend some time thinking about it, okay? I can't make any promises here, but I'll try my best.”

“I guess it's a deal then.” Courage yawned.

He felt Atticus's presence move in and wrap around his consciousness like a warm blanket. It was in that moment that he realized just how much he was going to miss this. In an attempt to keep his sadness at bay, he decided to make one last joke at his companion's expense.

“Hey, you know what? If we find out that you really have been a girl the entire time, it'll be easy to switch over because we can just start calling you Attica instead....or Jenny.”

His eyes snapped open with a thoroughly annoyed expression. “All of a sudden it is getting much easier to think up stupid nicknames for you.”

“Hehehehe, I knew it would work!”

End of Chapter

A/N: I've often worried, especially in more recent years, that people might see ATE as nothing more than an edgy, grimdark fanfic where the characters are constantly made to suffer just to suffer without any lighter moments to balance it out. There's been more than a few times I've thought for months, if not years, after writing certain things if I had taken it too far and should maybe have reigned it in a little. In the end though, I think this chapter is the perfect showcase for what I am trying to get at with this story. It's all about finding any light, love, and happiness you can in a profoundly cruel world that wants nothing more than to see you suffer. It's about how it is a radical act and one big middle finger to this world to have empathy and kindness even when it should have made you just as cynical and cruel. I know that it probably isn't the intended message of the show itself, but you still see the same thing play out in how Courage goes through hell over and over again for the sake of his family. 'The things I do for love' indeed.

As for Computer's name, I originally planned to have it happen a little farther along toward the end of this arc, but as I got closer to this part, I realized that there was no better place for it than here. My original plans were that once he was named that the characters would call him Atticus but the narrative would still call him Computer, for the sake of my sanity. Somewhere over the long years I realized that it would defeat the purpose of giving him a name to keep calling him Computer, so I have resigned myself to using Atticus for the rest of the story, unless the situation calls for otherwise. You guys can have a lot of fun knowing that in nearly every instance of the name Atticus coming up, there is about a 99% chance that I accidentally typed in Computer first out of sheer muscle memory and had to fix it immediately. This may genuinely break me lmao. (Also, at least one reviewer back in Volume II correctly guessed what his name was going to be.)

Chapter Text

A/N: So here's something crazy. I'm fairly certain that if I had not committed myself to doing the Courage and Computer romance after getting over the fear that I might be hated for doing it in a fic that had not billed itself as a gay romance for over 5 years of its lifespan, I probably would have hooked Computer up with Lily's mom by the end of this arc. Certain things would have happened much differently to accommodate it, of course. I probably would have had them share a cage back at Charon's and they would have inevitably gotten to know each other better. I would have given her a name too, and she probably would have played a much bigger part in the escape. I also would have had her escape the city with Courage and Computer rather than keep her trapped there and possessed. It would probably be around this part in the story when she reunites with Lily that there would be a big ol' love confession with Computer. Of course...it's really hard to imagine Computer as straight at this point lmao. One of the funniest developments in the story for me personally, as my confidence has grown and I've started to have a way more 'no fucks given' attitude about all of this, it's that I went from wanting to keep the doggo romance very low key and in the background as an apology to the people who were reading from the start who didn't know that it would eventually become a gay romance, to becoming the living embodiment of that Rebecca Sugar meme of MAKE IT GAYER. In the end, if the romance was a deal breaker for certain people, they're not the kind of person that I wanted reading this story anyway and I should not feel any inclination to have to cater to them. It's their loss.

Chapter 5: Separation Problems

Three days went by with very little happening of note. Courage rested while Atticus spent time with the puppies...while also tormenting Courage every time he screwed up his new name. It was, of course, a false sense of peace. Every night the lights of the distant city could be seen creeping closer. In spite of this, the SCC were not giving the refugees any new orders or making any sort of plans to move the camp. More and more people were being brought in daily, having already lost their homes or were on the verge of losing them to the amalgamation. A nervous air hung over the place and many people were simply getting in their cars, if they still had one, and moving on.

Still, the camp was getting ever more crowded regardless, and Courage had to push his way through multiple groups of people to get back to his tent after a visit with the puppies. SCC soldiers had been seen since yesterday chopping down trees to try and make more room to set up more tents, but even that was not enough.

Once inside, Courage flopped down onto the cot with a content little sigh, ready for another nap. Even after three days of rest he was still feeling wiped out from their escape from the city. He was not sure if it was Atticus's 'demanding' presence on his mind and body slowing his recovery, or if it was simply from the illness itself and the fact that he had long since reached the breaking point with it and thus it was hard to recover from anything at this point, or if it was both things taking a toll on him at the same time. Regardless, Atticus had noticed the same thing and was all the more eager to get back into a separate body because of it.

Eyes closed, Courage asked, “I'm still waiting for that dumb nickname...Atty.”

Atticus groaned at Courage's new favorite nickname for him. He had come up with it the day before. It was a fusion of Atticus, and of course....Jenny.

“Your one purpose in life really is nothing more than to think up nicknames that I utterly loathe, isn't it?”

“Well, maybe if you got your head into the game, you could start annoying me back.”

“Okay, you know what? Fine. I have the perfect annoying nickname for you. It is a reflection of my pure genius and the result of multiple days worth of consideration.”

“Oh, boy.” Courage chuckled.

“I'm not even sure if you will be able to handle it. Perhaps it would be better left unspoken.”

“Tell me before I find a worse nickname than Atty.”

Atticus grinned mischievously. “Are you sure?”

“I'll survive, don't worry.”

He bit back laughter and said, “Twat.”

“Oh, come on! All you did was replace 'I' with an 'A'! You can do better than that! I know you too well for you to-”

Still fighting back laughter, Atticus interrupted with, “...It seems to have done its job, hasn't it?”

Courage crossed his arms. “Don't you reverse psychology me! Think of something better!”

“Hmm, nah. I'm good.”

“Ugh! I thought we had a dea-”

A voice from outside of the tent made him fall silent.

“Construct Number Thirty-Five, you have been ordered to meet with Elizabeth Astor.”

Atticus made Courage sit up. “It must be time.”

A wave of nervous anticipation rolled through Courage. Part of him wasn't really for this yet. He knew it needed to be done, but he wasn't exactly looking forward to their separation either.

Atticus made his way over to the tent entrance, pushed the flap out of the way....and was immediately met by the barrel of a gun pointing directly at his nose.

“Oh, for the love of-” He began, grabbing it and yanking it out of the SCC soldier's grip before he could react. He proceeded to empty the ammo out of it and drop it into the grass. “The next SCC moron who points a gun in my face is getting it shoved up their-”

Composing himself from being unexpectedly disarmed, the man cleared his throat loudly to cut Atticus off. “Construct Number-”

“That's Atticus now.” He immediately butted right back in.

“Const-”

Atticus picked the empty gun up off the ground and threw it at the guy's head. It bounced off with a satisfying clunk. “Atticus!”

“Construct-”

...Now he was pelted by the discarded ammo.

“Ugh, we're not going to get anywhere like this!” He cried out. “I am to escort you to Astor so....so stop hitting me with those things!”

Atticus continued to pelt him in the back with them as they walked through the camp to get to Elizabeth. He just kept picking them back up out of the grass as they dropped and threw them again.

By the time they reached a large tent surrounded by SCC equipment, the SCC guy's head was practically steaming, and he whirled around to face Courage with his teeth grit.

Atticus tossed another bullet at his head and hit him square between the eyes. “Att-i-cus! It's not hard!”

“G-get in there! She's waiting for you!” He seethed.

Atticus tossed his last bullet at the guy and then pushed past him. Courage couldn't help but chuckle at his antics.

“Be careful! You've got the guy so angry that he's probably going to come back tonight and strangle us...you while we...while you-” He trailed off, ear drooping as the reality of how much things were about to change hit him at full force.

Atticus had spent the last few days sounding like a broken record every time Courage's anxiety about their separation flared up. “Stop acting like I'm about to be killed! We'll still be together!”

“I-I know, but-” He fell silent as Atticus entered the massive tent.

Elizabeth was at a table in the middle of the tent, hovering over piles of papers. It was much like when Courage had first met her. She was even wearing her glasses again.

Atticus walked up like he owned the place and sat down in one of the empty chairs at the table. Elizabeth looked up from her papers, her expression unshakably unperturbed.

“Ah, you have finally arrived then, dog? I was starting to wonder what was taking you so long. Well, you can rejoice. I have found the parts that were needed and I am ready to remove the Construct from you.”

“That's Atticus now.” A certain somebody broke in.

She stared at him for a moment, her unconcerned expression never wavering. “Oh, wonderful. It has decided to name itself.” She sarcastically quipped with an exaggerated hand wave.

Atticus did not skip a beat. “Actually, it was Courage and one other who named me. Also, that's 'he', thank you very much.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and proceeded to ignore him. She picked a strange looking machine up off the ground and thudded it down onto the table, sending papers and pictures flying. Several of them floated down into Courage's lap. He picked one up and found the smiling face of a woman looking back at him. It was the same with the next one too. The last picture that had landed in his lap was that of a very severe looking, silver haired man whose frozen visage was leering up at him.

“Who are these people?” He asked.

“Hmm? Those? I sent several people out to look through the SCC archives and bring me back as much information about the Construct project as possible. Those pictures are that of the people who donated their lives to the project.”

Atticus squinted. “You mean the people that you lied to about what would happen to them when you used them to make Constructs.”

“I never lied to anyone. It was never my project.” Elizabeth dismissed. “Those fools were too desperate to read between the lines anyway. It was obvious that their existence was not going to persist through their Constructs. They simply decided to give in to wishful thinking, that is all.”

Atticus considered the picture of the man again and held it up for Elizabeth to see. “Who is this in particular?” He asked, already having a bit of a hunch on who it was.

Elizabeth's expression hardened at the sight of it. “Edgar.” She uttered out, her voice taking on a hateful tone. “The previous leader of the SCC, and the man whose Construct is currently giving me a headache.”

Atticus was silent for a moment and then simply let out a soft, “...Oh.”

“I knew it.” Courage said, and then added, “I guess this means you're not a girl then after all.”

“D-don't sound so disappointed! And I don't actually care about being a guy or girl or whatever else, I just don't want to be her specifically!”

Elizabeth watched the conversation play out with a confused expression. “I'm not even going to ask...” She finally said.

“You, uh, don't seem to like the guy very much.” Atticus dryly pointed out.

She let out a, “Hmph!” and grabbed a screwdriver to start tinkering with the strange machine. “Edgar is nobody worth remembering.” She grumbled, putting all of her attention onto the machine. While her expression remained calm, her voice seemed to tell a different story. There was a seething spitefulness to her every word. “While he may have been a brilliant inventor and was personally responsible for saving the world on more than one occasion, he was a cruel man who lacked any empathy or compassion. He cared only for himself and any action he took was simply to better his own standing in the world. For any good he did, he committed just as many atrocities for his own gain. Had the worst of his actions become widely known to the public, he would have never been allowed to reach an old age. The Constructs were his last ditch effort to find a way to preserve himself, but he could not make a breakthrough in time, and so he died, and I'm stuck dealing with his obnoxious shadow. By all means, I should be enjoying this. His Construct is, after all, a living reminder of his failure, but I loathe having to hear that voice again.”

Atticus crossed his arms. “Well, you're the one who apparently thought that British Hitler was prime marriage material.”

Elizabeth stopped tinkering with the machine and looked up at him with a dry expression. “Edgar was my father.”

“O-oh....” He stammered stupidly, and then it seemed to actually hit him. “OH!” And he proceeded to winced and let out an, “Eww....”

“It finally all makes sense!” Courage exclaimed, interrupting Atticus's long, continuous Ewww-ing.

“Hold up now!” Atticus then cried out, grabbing at Courage's ears only to forget that one was missing. “The guy I'm based on SPAWNED!”

“I knew something wasn't adding up...” Courage mused.

“I am so glad that I don't have his memories!”

“She's probably not a robot then...”

“It must have been so awful...”

“But she must have been present for at least some of-”

“-And all he got out of it was THAT!” Atticus gestured toward an exceptionally annoyed looking Elizabeth.

Courage placed a paw to his chin and squinted. “Doesn't this mean you're kind of her dad and her brother all at the same time?”

“That's disgusting!” He yelped.

Elizabeth finally broke in to yell, “Will you two morons shut up!”

Atticus glared at her. “Ooh, if I'm a moron what does that make you then, hmm?”

“Zip it!” She demanded, waving the screwdriver at him. “And we are not related in any way, shape, or form! You are nothing more than a mindless machine that happens to resemble my dead father!”

“...I mean, there is a bit of a resemblance.” Courage softly uttered out.

“NO, THERE'S NOT!” They both yelled at the exact same time...sounding exactly like each other.

Elizabeth pulled a length of cable out from the machine with a spike on the end of it, clearly ready to put an end to this nonsense.

“I will extract the Construct from you now and begin the process of putting its programming back to the way that it was. After that...I want the two of you as far away from me as possible.”

Atticus raised a paw. “Hold on. What body are you planning on putting me in?”

“I have more than a few failures in this organization that I would very greatly enjoy punishing by putting them on Host Duty.”

Atticus winced at that. “You really are your father's child, huh?”

She glared hatefully at him. “What are you implying, parasite? Do you really have the gall to moralize to me about this when there is no ethical way for you to take a body for your own? No matter what you do, you are robbing that person of their autonomy, unless they consent to such a thing, of course, but I guarantee you that nobody is looking to have a parasite take them over and leave them unconscious for months, if not years of their life.”

“What about that old dog body of mine?”

“Ha! Dog body? You don't even see it as a creature with a life of its own! This should be the part where I tell you that you remind me so much of Edgar, but I will spare you that because not even you live up to his callousness. Regardless, that dog may not have the spark of sentience that has spread through the animal population despite the SCC's best efforts to slow the phenomenon, but do you really think that it has enjoyed waking up to find itself stabbed and with numerous other injuries from all of the things that you put it through?”

Atticus frowned. “Maybe you should shove off with your own moralizing! Stop pretending like you actually care about that dog! You were two seconds away from euthanizing him as a means to kill my siblings, who, I might add, have only become the way that they are because of what you and your organization did to them!”

“Then perhaps don't pretend like you're any better...parasite!”

“Look, is that dog still around or not?”

“Yes, but I'm not sure that you would want it back. While it has healed from many of the injuries you gave it, that does not mean it's fully healed yet. Surely you do not want a body that is still in the process of recovering.”

Crossing his arms, Atticus replied with, “Well, I'm the one responsible for those injuries, right? I'll suffer through the rest of the healing process as penance for what I did to him.”

“Not much of a consolation prize for that dog. Not only did you injure it, but now it's about to lose control of itself again to the same parasite!”

“Enough! Can we just get this over with already?” Atticus groused.

Like it or not, Elizabeth did have a point, but there was not much that he could do about it. Maybe if his power had been working properly he would have been able to be 'ethical' about it and create a robot body for himself instead, but that just wasn't something he could do in his current state. Besides, he needed that dog. The wellspring would not work for him unless he could trick it into believing that he was the same species as Courage. Yes, he was going to have to sacrifice the dog along with himself, but there was no other way for it to work. It was that or let Courage die. It was, after all, the reason why he had chosen the body of a stray that nobody was going to miss. He certainly felt differently about strays now, after everything he had gone through with Charon, but he could not turn away from this path now. It was not ethical in the slightest, but he was going to pay the ultimate price for it anyway.

“As you wish.” Elizabeth smugly answered, knowing that she had won the argument. She called for an SCC solider and sent him off to fetch the dog. While they waited, she went back to tinkering with the machine, content to completely ignore her 'guests'.

Sensing how bothered Atticus was by all of this, Courage whispered, “I don't think that you're a parasite, and I'd be more than happy to keep sharing this body with you if I could.”

“But you can't, and that's the problem.” He sighed.

After a few minutes, the solider returned with the dog on a leash. He trudged in on all fours, panting, tongue out, and looking around happily. He was still heavily bandaged up but not quite as mummified as he had been before. The moment he saw Courage, his ears perked up, apparently recognizing him. He dropped down into that playful dog pose, butt in the air and tail wagging. His big eyes sparkled behind those familiar glasses.

Atticus winced. “Can't you act at least slightly dignified?” He asked. But of course the dog did not care because the dog...was a dog.

He suddenly bounded forward, ripping free of the SCC guy's hold on the leash. He tackled Courage to the ground and began licking him across the face repeatedly.

“Gross!” Atticus exclaimed. “I'm going to have to wash that tongue now!”

Courage laughed between licks. “I think some of you has rubbed off on him...or maybe it's the other way around.”

Atticus struggled his way out from under the dog. “I would not be licking you right now, thank you very much!” He cried out, shuddering at the thought.

The dog circled them playfully, on all fours, until the SCC solider tried to grab his leash, and noticing this, he took off running. He tore through Elizabeth's tent for a good couple of minutes as the hapless soldier tried to catch him. Papers were still floating to the ground like snow for quite awhile afterwards, even after he was caught.

Seeing the carnage, Courage joked, “Yep, he gets that from you.”

Dog secured in the soldier's arms and subdued with a few scratches behind the ear, Elizabeth once again presented the cable with the spike on the end. “Can we please, please get this over with?” She all but begged.

“I guess this is it.” Courage said rather unhappily.

He felt Atticus's presence wrap around his consciousness in that affectionate way of his. Even though Courage couldn't help but smile at the gesture, he still felt incredibly sad that they were about to be separated.

Sighing wistfully, he joked, “I suppose this is for the best or else I would have had to start charging you for rent.”

He sensed Atticus smile at that and he began to say, “Does this mean-”

“Don't you dare say it.” Courage groaned.

“-that I've been living in your head rent free?”

“Uuuughhhh....”

Elizabeth went over and unceremoniously jabbed the spike into the back of Courage's neck, causing him to yelp from the pain.

“You really do enjoy being a giant bi-” Atticus began, obviously angry at her intentional attempt to hurt Courage, but as he was speaking she pushed it in even further, causing his voice to be replaced by another yelp from Courage.

“There we go.” She slyly spoke, moving back over to the machine.

Tears stung at the edges of Courage's eyes. Even without Elizabeth trying to push it in further, the spike still hurt horribly. He so badly wished that he could just rip it out and forget about moving Atticus back into his old body. This was so much worse than the first time she had done this.

He could sense Atticus angrily plotting a million different ways to get back at her for this, but as the download commenced, he turned all of his attention back on to Courage.

“See you on the other side.” He warmly assured as his presence began to fade.

Courage tried to hold on to him, for as long as he could, but there was no stopping what needed to happen, and soon enough he was alone. Nothing was left but a dark void in his mind where his companion had been for such a long time now. He felt as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. His mind felt clearer and he could think faster, but there was no denying the great emptiness inside of himself as well. His brain might no longer be under such an incredible amount of strain, but what did that matter when he no longer felt like he was whole?

Elizabeth got to work, tapping away at a keyboard attached to the odd machine. She adjusted her glasses and squinted at the screen. Finally, she muttered, “What a mess this Construct is. I would be better off putting it out of its misery, but...there are still uses for it.”

Courage glared at her but she of course did not notice. With an unhappy groan, he sunk further down into his chair. Even his limbs felt lighter, like he had been wearing heavy clothing up until this point. It made him so angry to be forced to confront just how much Atticus had been having a poor effect on his already ill and tired body.

An hour went by as Elizabeth worked on Atticus's programming. In that time, Courage found himself sinking deeper and deeper into a pit of sadness. It really did feel as if Atticus had left behind an empty void in his wake. It was eating away at Courage's mind and making him feel so unfathomably lonely. He could not even talk to him right now to make it a little better.

With an exasperated sigh, Elizabeth leaned back in her chair. “Bring me the dog.” She ordered the soldier.

Courage held his breath as he watched the spike get jabbed into the back of the dog's neck, who howled in pain and struggled uselessly against the arms holding him in place. It was an unpleasant sight, one that Elizabeth probably could have avoided if she had bothered to be a little kinder.

The dog's howling stopped with an eerie suddenness, and next, while he did not exactly go limp, he did become rather vacant. His fur turned that familiar dark blue color, accompanied by that equally familiar glow. He blinked, looked around, and then reached to pull the spike out of his neck. The soldier lowered him to the floor. Immediately all of his attention turned to Courage, who had to look like a sad, melted blob in his chair at this point.

“Courage?” He asked, sounding a little worried.

All Courage could muster in response was a soft, sad whimper.

Atticus smiled reassuringly at him and then looked down at his own paws. They must have seemed familiar and unfamiliar to him all at the same time. He placed them onto his chest. “See? I told you. I'm still here and everything is still the same. Now you just don't have to worry about your brain melting out of your ears.”

When Courage did not respond, he moved in closer and offered him a paw. “Everything is alright. You don't have to be sad.”

Courage hesitated for a moment and then took the paw. He let himself be pulled down from the chair. Atticus immediately hugged him and did not let go. It helped...a little.

Elizabeth cleared her throat and Atticus looked up at her. Realizing how long he had been hugging Courage, he pulled himself free...but kept hold of both of Courage's paws.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow.

“What?” He asked, squinting at her, still not letting go of Courage's paws.

Her eyebrow raised even higher. “This is certainly not an...orientation that was inherited from Edgar.”

“W-we're just two friends being...friendly! What? Haven't you ever seen two friends being best friends before?”

Somehow Elizabeth raised her eyebrow even higher than it already was. “...Is that what they're calling it these days?”

…..

The two of them were sent back to their tent. Elizabeth had been more than just a little glad to see them go, and at least for Atticus, that feeling was mutual. Courage was such a mess that he didn't seem to notice either way. By the afternoon, it was obvious that whatever was wrong with him...wasn't getting any better. Despite Atticus's best efforts, nothing seemed to be capable of lifting Courage out of the malaise their separation had caused. Atticus had thought that he would get better in an hour or two, but in truth, he was seemingly only getting worse with time.

Atticus had left his side only once to go check on the puppies and let them know that they were separate again. He had managed to snag some rations as well, but Courage obviously wasn't all that willing to eat. Even though Atticus himself was feeling pretty hungry, he decided that he'd hold off on eating until Courage was feeling better.

After having checked on the puppies, he spent the next several hours pacing back and forth in the tent, practically turning that line of grass into mud, all while worrying his head off for Courage. Courage himself was a trembling lump of blanket. The moment they had returned to the tent, he had sat down on the cot and covered himself with it, never to resurface again. Any time Atticus tried to talk to him, all he'd get was a whimper for a reply.

It was during what had to be his millionth turn during his pacing session that he heard the blanket shift a little and looked over at the cot eagerly.

“Courage?” He asked.

The lump simply continued to shiver without any change.

Shaking his head, he went over and gently poked it but did not get any sort of reaction.

“Courage, seriously, why on earth are you being this way? You won't even talk to me so how the heck am I supposed to help?”

The lump whimpered and shivered even harder.

Atticus placed his paws onto his hips and shook his head. “This is getting ridiculous.”

He grabbed a flap at the top of the lump and raised it up. He was met by Courage's frighteningly big, shimmering, tearful eyes.

“Ah, geez!” He exclaimed, and unsure of what to do, he just...lowered the flap again.

...Back to pacing it was then!

More time passed with no change from Courage, and Atticus was starting to create a muddy hole in the floor so he figured that it was time to try again. This time he grabbed the blanket and pulled it off of Courage. He did not receive any sort of resistance to the action. Courage just continued to sit there looking like the saddest dog in the world.

“For goodness sake, Courage!” Atticus finally cried out, grabbing him by the shoulders and yanking him limply onto his feet. “You're not supposed to be the depressed one!”

Courage whimpered pathetically, his eyes still big and watery.

Atticus let him go, hoping that he would continue to stand. Instead, he seemed to fold in on himself like he no longer had any bones in his body and melted into the grass below.

“This is just great...” Atticus groaned, rubbing the back of his head.

He took the limp Courage and put him back on the cot, frowning at him with a mixture of concern and annoyance.

Courage sat there, sniffing and whimpering sorrowfully...for absolutely no reason at all.

“I swear I'm going to kill Elizabeth. She never warned that something like this might happen.” Atticus groused. It was nearly half a day later and Courage was still only getting worse and worse. “What might make you feel better?” He asked his hapless companion out of desperation.

Courage did not reply, he just continued to stare at him, looking all depressed and weepy.

Atticus started to pace again, his worrying reaching all new heights. What if this was some sort of permanent side effect that the SCC had simply never documented before? It was entirely possible, especially given how long they had been together. Would...would Courage never go back to being himself?

He slowed to a stop again, staring helplessly at his weepy companion. Surely there was something he could do to make him feel better?

It was, of course, that exact moment when an idea struck him...but he really did not want to do it.

He clasped his paws together and brought them up toward his snout, considering his options. Courage whimpered again, nearly breaking his blackened, shriveled heart in the process.

It looked as if he had no other choice...

As long as he didn't put his neck in to it, maybe...

He exhaled loudly and helplessly. “I really, really, really don't want to do this, but if it makes you feel better...I guess I'm just going to have to take one for the team, and...well-” He lunged forward.

He wrapped his arms around Courage in one of those crushing hugs that was usually done to 'him', and very, very briefly nuzzled his depressed companion. Thoroughly flustered, he tried to free himself from the situation now that he had done what little he could for Courage, but his companion suddenly had his arms around him too in a vice-like grip. Courage buried the side of his face into his chest as hard as he could and began to sob like he had just gone through the saddest thing in the world.

“H-hey!” Atticus stammered out, completely taken aback by this strange turn of events. “T-there's nothing to cry about! I...we-”

“I feel empty!” Courage sobbed, barely even able to get the words out.

“O-oh, well, that's-”

“It feels like something important is missing now that you're gone!”

“Ugh! I'm still here!”

Courage clung to him even harder. “It doesn't change the way I feel! It's so awful! It's like a big, empty void has opened up inside of my brain and I'm about to fall in! I feel so alone!”

Atticus's ears drooped at that. He was finally starting to understand just how bad this was for Courage. It wasn't just some silly, minor thing that he was going through. This was clearly some major and painful side effect from how long they had spent together in the same body, and Courage was going to need time and a little care to get better.

Atticus placed a paw onto Courage's back. “Hey, it's going to be okay.”

“No! No, it's not!” Courage choked out. “I'm going to lose you, and I'm going to lose Muriel too, and I'm going to be all alone! It doesn't matter if I survive my illness because I'm going to be alone! I'm going to lose everything! I can't take it! I'm so scared and it hurts so much!”

It seemed that whatever void Atticus's presence had left behind in Courage's mind was causing some of his greatest anxieties to spiral out of control. Wanting nothing more than to comfort him, Atticus gently rubbed his back, hoping that it might help in some small way.

“I won't let that happen, I swear it.” He assured Courage, and he meant every word of it. There were the puppies now, of course. And somehow, someway, he was going to save his fellow survivors of Charon from the clutches of the amalgamation, and when he did, Courage would have the biggest family anyone could ever ask for to last him the rest of his days.

Courage pressed the side of his head into him even harder, as though that would somehow cause them to phase back together again.

“Please, please don't leave me.” He whimpered.

Atticus was utterly taken aback. The only thing he could think to do was chuckle sadly and say, “I'm not going anywhere yet. It's like you said before, we need to make the best out of the time we have left together, because we don't know what the future holds.” He closed his eyes and let his chin rest on top of Courage's head. “But I will do everything in my power to make sure your future is a happy one.”

Courage raised his head so that they were eye to eye, his face one big, blubbery mess. He made one halfhearted attempt to clear away the tears wetting his fur and then leaned in and nuzzled Atticus with everything he had to give.

With what was seemingly becoming tradition for the both of them, Atticus must have had a spectacularly stupid expression on his face afterwards because it somehow managed to break through Courage's sadness. He smiled, and with a sniff, began to laugh.

Over the sound of Courage's soft laughter, a strange sort of 'fhwhap, fhwhap, fhwhap' sound could be heard. Atticus frowned and looked around, but he could not find the source of it.

He let go of Courage and turned to check behind him, since that seemed to be where the sound was coming from. The moment he did so, Courage's weak laughter became much stronger and more genuine.

“What?” Atticus asked, turning back around only for the sound to stay directly behind him.

“L-look, look! Y-your t-tail!” Courage fought to say since he could hardly stop laughing. “I wish I had a camera right now!”

Atticus's expression turned to that of worry. “H-huh? What do you-” He craned his neck to try and see over his shoulder, and...

“GAH!” He cried out, seeing now that his tail was wagging. “I-IT'S INVOLUNTARY!” He cried out, desperate to save face, and began spinning madly in a circle trying to catch it.

After much panic and contorting himself, he finally managed to grab it. He glared at the thing, waited for a minute or two, and let it go...only for it to immediately start wagging again.

He slapped a paw to his forehead and then sat down in the grass, making sure to keep his tail under him. He crossed his arms and put on a smug smile because he had beaten the thing at its own game. Courage sat down beside him, a grin still on his face, but that sadness was already starting to creep its way back in again.

“Will you be okay?” Atticus asked, concerned once more.

Courage closed his eyes and let out a sigh, his smile slowly melting into a frown. “I-I don't know. Something inside of me doesn't feel right anymore. It..it's awful.”

“I think it will pass if you give it some time, and if not, well, I'll be here to help you adjust.” He put on a halfhearted smile. “I'm certainly well acquainted with the sort of thing you're feeling right now, unfortunately.”

Courage laughed gratefully, and then, unable to stop himself, began to cry again. “S-sorry!”

Atticus placed a paw onto his shoulder. “You don't have anything to apologize for. I'm happy to help you get through...whatever this is.”

With a little urging, Atticus managed to get him to eat supper. Shortly after that, Atticus tried to make a game out of brainstorming dumb nicknames to distract him, but he just couldn't get into it. Still, he was so thankful for Atticus's attempt that he leaned in and nuzzled him again and got plenty of amusement out of watching that blue glow turn bright red.

As night rolled in, Courage was so mentally exhausted and hurting that he decided he'd rather go to bed early. Since Atticus was so eager to help out, and since their pillow had long since disappeared since Lily stole it....Courage decided to make Atticus his new pillow. Once you got used to the bright red light that you could so easily see behind your closed eyelids, it made for a rather comfy way to sleep.

…....

Elizabeth was not one for fear or apprehension. She did what was necessary, with as little emotional attachment as possible, and never looked back once the deed was done. It was the only way you could survive as the leader of the SCC. You had to make the difficult choices with ruthless efficiency, lest the deaths of a few quickly become the deaths of millions.

And so, when she opened the flap of the tent where the Construct of her father dwelt, she was surprised by her own hesitation. She stepped inside, feeling something that at least resembled the emotion of doubt. When she saw what awaited her in there, that foreign feeling of hesitation and doubt only grew.

The dog and the Construct were asleep. To be more exact, the dog was lying on it with a cheek nestled against its chest. It had a paw resting on his back. The dog could not have looked more content in his sleep with that happy, little smile on his face and his tail somehow wagging even as he dreamed. The Construct was a different story, of course. It retained a somewhat serious expression even while it slept.

What an odd pair. For as much as that...that thing resembled her father in so many ways, it was also nothing like him all at the same time. She, of course, understood perfectly well that a Construct was not the person they came from, but they sometimes still felt like uncanny shades of the people who died to make them. Most of the first ones had been 'friends' of her father, and it had been impossible for her not to notice how much those things seemed like ghostly imprints of them left lingering in the world.

She could not help but note how much the dog seemed to be clinging to the Construct for support since their separation. She had seen much of the disastrous results of those early attempts at having Constructs possess fully conscious hosts. So many of the test subjects had come out of it beyond help, and many of the Constructs had stopped functioning optimally afterwards as well. These two were, by all accounts, the first Construct and host to have lived in harmony with one another without a catastrophic decline in the host's mental health. Well, that was not to say there weren't any lasting side effects, as was obvious now. The dog was clearly not taking the separation as well as he should be, while the Construct at least seemed to be unaffected. This was unquestionably a better outcome than the disastrous results of the past.

In the end, Elizabeth decided to let them sleep. She was not one for pity or mercy, so she was not sure what compelled her to leave that tent and put her plans on hold for a little while longer. She did not feel bad for what she was going to do, and she did not feel bad for them either. Maybe, just maybe, she could empathize with that Construct on some small level. She would not wish what she was about to do on anyone...or anything. If it were her, she would consider it a fate worse than death. She loathed that Construct with every fiber of her being, but she was not looking forward to doing this, if only for her own sake more than its. It was necessary though. It needed to be done if they were to have any chance at putting a stop to the amalgamation.

She just hoped that she would have the strength to look him in the eyes when the time came.

End Of Chapter

A/N: You guys are lucky that I cannot pun to save my life because if I could Computer's main post-character development trait would be him turning into a pun dispensing machine just to (affectionately) annoy the shit out of Courage...and you. LOL

If there is one thing that I wish I would have done it's make Computer's dog a character of his own and an unwilling participant in all of this to really lean in to the unpleasant implications of it. I unfortunately did try to do a bit of a cop out with this back in Volume I by having the dog be 'dumb', which is easily one of my biggest mistakes with the story for way more than just one reason. I really, really, really don't like the implications I set up that it's okay for what gets done to the dog to happen because he's 'mentally lesser', and even just going with the concept of a 'dumb' anthro dog was just really poorly thought out on my part for incredibly obvious reasons. I've tried to fix this to some extent by making it clear in later parts of the story that the dog is not a dumb anthro dog but is instead literally just a regular, realistic, non-sentient dog from a mental standpoint and that non-sentient animals exist in the ATEverse alongside the sentient ones. It still isn't a great fix, and the implications are still there to some extent, but its just too late in the game to change it now. If I ever go back and make revisions, especially to Volume I like I've been wanting to for years now, this is one of the biggest mistakes I've made that I would like to fix.

Besides, having a fully sentient and unwilling host just kinda fits better with the tragedy that is Computer's existence. He literally cannot live life as an organic being without depriving someone else of their own life. It makes how flawed and morally gray he often is all the more stark because, his host body being sentient or not, the fact that he's perfectly willing to sacrifice another living being without their permission, after having deemed them worthless because they are a 'stray', to save Courage is uhhhh... kinda really shitty. Yes, this was always the intent from day one. It was always meant to be a major issue slowly coming to a boil under the surface.

This is also why, even if I had not explicitly set out to write an ace romance, Computer's asexuality would likely still be present because, yeeeaaahhh, there's a third party involved who cannot consent. It's also why I'm not big on even having them kiss and thus why I spent some time setting up nuzzling as a potential equivalent to kissing for dogs. (Computer already not being into the whole concept of kissing helps too LOL) Yeah, I do occasionally like to acknowledge the darker implications of how Computer treats the beings he takes over as nothing more than a body to puppet with little concern for their well being outside of what personally affects him while in the body, but there are certain lines I'm not going to cross with this lmao.

I should also mention that there is not any meaning behind the name Atticus. It just ended up being the only name I could find that really seemed to fit him. It wasn't just a plot point in the story, finding a name that fits Computer is surprisingly hard. I do like the potential meanings you guys have been coming up with though. That it could be a play on the word Attic or that it's a pun of Abacus. The only issue I'm having with the name right now, aside from muscle memory causing me to type in Computer all of the time, is that I can't figure out if its better to use Atticus's or Atticus'. According to Google, either way is correct, but they both don't look particularly right to me. I've been using Atticus's for now and I'll probably keep using it for consistency sake.

Chapter Text

A/N: Volume I has new cover art from the Tumblr user Flannalamb. Also, after next month I will have caught up on every request for a physical copy of the ATE book. If there is still anyone else who wants one, I am leaving the offer open for the foreseeable future. Just PM me and I will see about getting you a copy.

Chapter 6: Puppies And Plots

Hunger was the thing to wake Atticus up. There was no telling when this dog had last been fed, and it was for that reason that he decided he'd go bully some poor SSC idiot into giving him an extra allotment of rations. He wanted to make sure Courage got some too, because he would probably be hungry when he woke up as well.

Speaking of Courage, Atticus had somehow managed to wriggle his way out from under him without waking him up. Quite the minor miracle. He'd rather have Courage stay sleeping while he was away because the last thing he needed was for Courage to wake up and immediately get all freaked out about him being gone. Courage was already being distressingly clingy and Atticus really did not need THAT getting any worse.

Regardless of his discomfort with Courage's newfound clingy-ness, the moment he was about to step out of the tent, he couldn't help but hesitate and look back toward Courage with considerable worry. What if Courage did wake up while he was gone? There was no doubt in his mind that it would end badly. For all of his efforts to help Courage get through this unexpected side effect of their separation, Courage waking up all alone would likely put them back at square one.

Still, Atticus felt like he was starving to death, and to combo that up with how weak this dog body was from the many injuries that it was still healing from, to put it eloquently...he felt like complete and total garbage. So, even if it meant taking a risk by leaving Courage alone for a little while, alleviating his hunger would do nothing but help. It would not have surprised him at all if it turned out that the SCC had not been caring for this dog all that much after his siblings escaped. The dog was already in poor enough shape after that stay in Charon's kennels so it was no wonder at all that Atticus felt like he was about to keel over. Well, he had elected to suffer through this, so he was in no position to complain.

Frowning, he turned away from Courage, having made up his mind. After Charon, it was much harder for him to ignore hunger pain like he could back when he had first taken control of this body and was far less thrilled with the concept of eating. Well, Courage had nothing to fear. He would be as quick as possible. Under no circumstances was he going to leave Courage to wake up alone.

Marching out of the tent, he quickly scanned the area for any SCC personnel to pester. Of course this wasn't going to be that easy, and so he had to head deeper into the camp. As he walked, he couldn't help but enjoy how nice it was to have a body of his own again, and to not simply be the co-pilot to somebody else. Sure, he did miss the closeness he had shared with Courage, albeit not to the crippling degree Courage himself was experiencing right now, but nothing beat being your own person, in your own head, and in control of your own everything. Well...he still wasn't exactly his own person, not really. The only difference was that the person he was sharing this body with was now being kept artificially comatose while he got to pretend like this was his actual form. He would get to go on treating this dog with so little care that...

He slowed to a stop and shook his head. Stupid Elizabeth! Who was she to talk when he had never been given any sort of choice in what he was to begin with! This was the only option he had, unless he wanted to go on spending his existence trapped in an immobile machine! So what if he couldn't help but see this body that he had spent so much time in like it was his own? Sure, he was depriving this dog of his own life, but that wasn't important! Those vets had been about to put him down anyway! If anything, he had saved this dog and given him a little more time!

He looked around desperately for one of the SCC, trying to stifle his thoughts on this topic that Elizabeth had so cruelly planted in his mind. He was quite ready for the cognitive dissonance to set in again, thank you very much!

His ears perked up as he heard a soft but rapid sound rushing up behind him. He started to turn but was struck before he could get very far and was sent crashing down into the grass. Certain that his spine had just been snapped in half, it was only made worse by the fact that his collapse had aggravated all of his other injuries. He felt something roll down off his back and thump into the grass beside him.

“Why'd you have to be in the way?” A familiar voice groaned.

Atticus yanked his squished snout out of the dirt and glanced around at the area around him.

...There had been more than enough room on either side of him for the puppy to have completely avoided him.

He turned his gaze on to the pup, who was rolling back and forth through the grass in pain. “You were in a big rush and weren't looking where you were going, were you?” He chided him before getting back onto his feet and brushing himself off. The pup remained sprawled out on the ground, groaning painfully.

He raised an eyebrow. “Is something going on?”

The puppy suddenly looked around very shiftily. He was hiding something behind his back, keeping it pressed into the grass.

“...No.”

“You know what? I'm not even going to ask.” Atticus dismissed with a dismayed shake of his head. “I'm on a rather time sensitive mission. You wouldn't have happened to see anybody handing out rations?”

Before the pup could answer, Lily's voice cried out from behind Atticus. “There he is! He's got our rations! Get 'em!”

The pup screamed and tried to run, but it was too late. An army of puppies flew past Atticus and they all proceed to quit literally dog pile the rogue pup. It seemed like the entire puppy population of the now exiled city folk had taken part in hunting him down. Lily struggled her way out of the pile, holding at least three of those weird applesauce tubes.

“Do you know where he got those?” Atticus asked her.

She pointed him in the right direction and proceeded to yell to the tangled mess of pups. “These are mine now! Ha, ha!” And took off running faster than any of the puppies could extract themselves from the pile they had made.

“I hope they aren't starving the puppies by giving them less rations than what everyone else gets.” Atticus muttered to himself. He suspected that it was far more likely that those greedy little creatures were eating through them much faster than was necessary and were resorting to stealing from each other when they inevitably got hungry an hour or two later.

Stepping past the frantically untangling puppy pile, he continued onward. Soon enough he found an SCC person handing out food and managed to bully his way into getting a couple of nutritional bars, some bags of dried fruit, several mystery tubes lacking any labeling as to what was inside, and three bottles of water. He carried it all back to the tent while keeping an eye out for thieving puppies who just might dare to try and get the drop on him.

Courage was still asleep when he returned, much to his relief. He dumped the food into a pile on the floor, grabbed a nutritional bar for himself, and sat down to wait for Courage to wake up. He had barely opened the wrapper of the bar and brought it up to his mouth when he saw Lily carefully and quietly peak in through the flap.

“Try anything and I'll make you regret it.” He threatened, grabbing a water bottle and pointing it at her. “I know where you sleep.”

“And I know where you sleep too!” She screamed back, leaping at the pile without a second of hesitation.

Atticus caught her mid air. She grabbed the bar out of his paw and shoved the whole thing into her mouth in one go while he took her under his arm and proceeded to toss her back outside. Despite that, by the time he had turned back around, nothing remained of the pile of food except a single bar and two bottles of water. He caught sight of a puppy's behind just as it was escaping out from under the opposite end of the tent.

Looking on with an unamused expression, he asked, “Why do organic beings spawn again?”

The commotion had been plenty loud enough to wake Courage up. He sat up with the blanket still wrapped around him so that only his snout peaked out from within. Yawning, he asked, “What was that all about?”

“We've been robbed.” Atticus groused, picking the one remaining nutritional bar up out of the grass. “I guess this is dinner...” He sighed, staring at it hungrily. With considerable reluctance, he tossed it over to Courage.

Surprisingly, he did not even try to catch it. “You can have it. I'm not hungry.”

Atticus crossed his arms, somehow looking both annoyed and concerned all at the same time. “You need it more than I do, especially after how hard I pushed you while we were still-” He hesitated, realizing that it might not be the best idea to bring that up while Courage was in his current state.

Thankfully, Courage did not seem bothered by it. Instead, he reached a paw out of the blanket and grabbed the bar off the ground. He opened the wrapper and split it in half, throwing one half back over to Atticus.

“I-I guess that works!” Atticus admitted rather sheepishly.

He began to pace as he chewed, and once he was done, he said to Courage, “I've been thinking-”

“Don't hurt yourself.” Courage broke in.

“Excuse me?” He demanded, slowing to a halt and turning to find Courage smirking mischievously at him from within the blanket.

“...I'm starting to think that maybe a little too much of me has rubbed off on you.” He dryly commented, although he couldn't stop himself from smiling a little. “I've created a monster.” He joked.

At the very least, he considered this an improvement over Courage sinking back into sadness. Never had he thought that he might one day be glad to have Courage throwing some of his own snarky nonsense back into his face.

“Sorry!” Courage finally relented, laughing. “I couldn't help it! You gave me the perfect opportunity!”

Atticus sniffed with exaggerated offense. “Is this the thanks I get for helping you?”

All of the mirth left Courage's face with a shocking suddenness. “O-oh, yeah. S-sorry about before. I didn't mean to get so...so messed up. I'm feeling better now though, I think.” He waited a second and then added much quieter, “I hope...”

Atticus gave a start. “I didn't actually mean that, for goodness sake! I was only joking, Courage!” He shook his head. “I thought you knew me better than this by now!”

“Sorry...” Courage repeated, looking wistfully down at the ground.

Much to Atticus's dismay, it seemed that Courage was not entirely back to normal yet after all. Hoping to cheer him up, he said, “It wasn't a problem before, and it still isn't. I'm happy to help!”

“Sorry,” Courage repeated yet again and seemed to melt into the blanket.

Atticus sat down on the cot beside the shivering lump of blanket and placed a paw on top of it. “You will feel better soon enough, I'm sure of it.” He assured before getting back to the matter at hand. “What I was going to say before is that I've been thinking about what we should do now that we're separated. We've got what we came here for, and the SCC clearly does not have a plan to deal with my siblings, so I say we should get the heck out of here before Elizabeth can get any sort of unpleasant ideas that inevitably involve doing something horrible to me.”

Courage shuffled around under the blanket until he managed to free his top half from the tangle. Though his eyes were filled with tears, and he did sound sad, he was clearly trying to focus on what was important beyond the distressing side effects he was suffering through. “Y-you've got a point there. Should we go now? Or-”

“I was thinking we should leave very late tonight. We'll sneak out with the puppies while there are fewer guards around. That way nobody will see us go. By the time Elizabeth figures out that we're gone, we'll be far enough away that we could easily hide out somewhere for a day or two and any search party she might send would never find us. So much of the surrounding area has been evacuated that we could hide in any abandoned home and have plenty of food to live off of for any amount of time that we might need.” He looked down at his paws. “This glow will be a problem, of course. Any guard would be able to see it from a distance and we need to keep them from alerting Elizabeth for as long as possible.” He turned back to Courage and sucked in a breath. “As much as I hate to consider it,” He stomped his foot down into the grass. “We'll dig up some mud, maybe even get the puppies to do it because they'd love something like that, and cover me in it. Then, we can use our blanket and theirs to cover me up and the extra layers should mask the glow...I hope.” He crossed his arms and closed his eyes, suppressing a shudder at the thought of how unpleasant this was going to be. “You all will have to guide me until we're far enough away, because I doubt I'll be able to see much like that, but once we're in the clear, my glow shouldn't be as much of an issue.”

He felt bad for the bathtub of whichever house they were going to break in to. After Charon's cage, he was not willing to remain dirty for any longer than needed.

Opening his eyes again, he looked upwards, deep in thought. “Is there any variable I haven't taken into account with this plan?” He asked Courage.

“Hmm,” Courage placed a paw to his chin. “Sneaking around and being quiet does not seem like something you're going to get out of those puppies.”

“You'd be surprised.” Atticus replied, unconcerned. “They lived under constant fear of Charon. They know when to be quiet and when to sneak off to hide. They'll do fine.”

“I'll take your word for it.”

They were both silent for a moment longer as they considered other ways their plan could go wrong. Security was so lax around here though that there wasn't much they really needed to worry about. People came and went all of the time and their group wouldn't look all that different from the rest, as long as they could hide Atticus's glow.

“Well then,” Atticus chimed in when neither of them could think of anything else to discuss about their plan. “Make sure to rest up because we're going to be on the move again. With any luck though, you won't have to push yourself too terribly hard once we've put enough distance between us and this camp.”

Both of them were ignoring the very big elephant in the room...his siblings. Eventually the amalgamation would catch up with them and then they were going to have to confront it again. Even if they made it to the mountain unscathed, that wall of mechanical destruction would reach it at some point in the future all the same. Nowhere and the farm was not safe either. Even if it took a long time for the amalgamation to reach it, that day would inevitably come.

Atticus reached down and grabbed one of the bottles of water. “Now if you excuse me,” He began, putting on an evil smirk. “I have some puppies that I need to put the fear of Me in to.” He brandished the bottle of water like a weapon. “Oh, and I suppose once I get dinner back, if those gluttons haven't devoured all of it by now, I'll let them know about our plan for tonight and see who wants to do some digging.” He shrugged. “If you dogs weren't already obsessed with digging I would have made them do it as punishment, so a surprise water dousing for those gluttons will have to suffice instead.”

Courage chuckled at that. “Go get dinner back before I waste away.” He joked, only to take it back when he saw the expression on Atticus's face. “D-don't take it so seriously! I'm not actually about to starve to death!”

Atticus considered him carefully, as though searching for any secret signs of starvation. What he said next, however, betrayed what he was really thinking. “Will you be okay on your own for a little while?”

“H-hey, I meant it when I said I was feeling better!”

Atticus squinted. “You don't seem much like it. The last thing I want is to come back to you wrapped up in that blanket looking all dramatic again.”

“I'll be fine, and I'm sure it won't take you that long to rescue our dinner from the puppies.”

“I suppose you're right about that. Well, as much fun as I would have tormenting those thieves, I'll make this rescue mission quick...for your sake.”

Courage smiled warmly at him for saying that and laughed when Atticus put on that very Deer In Headlights look, no doubt having been caught off guard.

Clearing his throat very loudly, as though that would act as a distraction, Atticus quickly blurted out, “Going now!” and practically stumbled his way through the tent flap.

“Compu-” Courage began, quickly stopping himself when he realized his error.

Atticus poked his head back in, leering at him.

“A-Atticus! Atticus!” He chuckled sheepishly in correction.

“Well, what's the hold up then?” Atticus urged, somewhat impatiently.

Courage rubbed the back of his head, looking everywhere but at Atticus. “A-actually, it can wait until you get back. M-maybe after we've had something to eat.”

Atticus considered him again with a suspicious expression. “I swear, Courage! I had better not come back to find you playing out another soap opera after you assured me you'd be okay alone for a little while! I'm getting much too old to have to keep worrying about you like this!”

Courage gasped sarcastically and said while laughing, “You worry about me? I didn't know you actually cared!” He put on that mischievous smirk again. “And who here exactly has been causing the most amount of soap opera episodes on this journey of ours, hmm?”

“I really have created a monster, haven't I?” Atticus groaned, rolling his eyes. “I suppose I don't have any right to complain. Glass houses and all that.”

He ducked out of the tent again before Courage could try to annoy him further and proceeded to move through the camp as stealthily as glowing, blue dog possibly could. If he could not find the pups out and about, he'd stage a surprise attack on their tent instead.

As he carefully checked around the corner of a tent, he caught a glimpse of a puppy on the move with one of those tubes in his paws. No doubt the gluttons were running rampant and stealing food from other people as well.

He smirked at that. “Time to teach these pups a lesson.”

Tailing the pup from a safe distance, he was hopeful that the puppy would either lead him to the rest of the gaggle, or they would come to him, if that pup had stolen something from the rest of them.

It was not to be, however. Lily suddenly burst out of a tent, snarling in a way that was supposed to sound vicious but was simply too cute to be threatening. She tackled the thieving pup and took his food. In that exact moment, she looked up and caught sight of Atticus. Knowing perfectly well why he was there, she screamed playfully and took off running.

He followed after her but kept his distance. What he really needed was to get all of these puppies together in one place. If he could somehow convince them all to go back to their tent...

“You!” An unpleasantly familiar voice called out to him. “Come here! We need to talk!”

He slowed to a stop and turned with a roll of his eyes. Elizabeth was there, moving toward him at a brisk pace.

Wanting absolutely nothing to do with her, he turned back around. He had lost sight of Lily, but he'd worry about that after he had ditched the crotchety old woman. Turning down a different row of tents, he went into an unoccupied one and ducked out the back of it, hoping to lose her.

“I know you heard me!” Her voice still called out distressingly close behind him.

With a sigh, he turned back around toward her with an exaggerated motion of his head. “Look, I know that this is the part where you've decided that you need to do something horrible and downright unethical to me all in a desperate bid to stop my siblings! I have been around this block way too many times now not to be keyed in to whatever horrible thing that's attempting to happen to me next! Well, I am quite done with being the universe's punching bag, thank you very much! So just turn that wrinkly face of yours around and shove off!”

She leered down at him with that ever present expression of barely concealed contempt. “I only wish to talk with you.” She assured him, although her dry monotone did nothing to actually assure him of anything.

“What? You're actually treating me like a fellow living being for once?” He sniffed indignantly. “...That's not suspicious or anything.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes and inhaled sharply, looking as if whatever she was about to say was physically hurting her to speak it, “I have decided that for the sake of stopping this world ending threat, I must be pragmatic and attempt to work with the likes of you. If you want both that dog and those puppies that you are so fond of to live, you WILL come with me.”

“Ha! Will I?” He fired back, giving her a smug smirk as some of her cold composure began to break in frustration.

“Do you want the world to end?” She groused before deciding to switch tactics. “Is there perhaps some sort of bargain I could make with you for your cooperation?”

Atticus did genuinely consider it for a moment. “Maybe, but I want two things out of this. First, you will find me the best, most expensive, industrial sized coffee maker on the market. Second, you will use whatever clout you have with the government to see to it that the personhood of both myself and the rest of the Constructs are fully recognized. We will be afforded the same rights as everyone else, post-humorously if that is what it comes down to for my siblings, and-” He narrowed his eyes up at her. “-the SCC will owe up to being the cause of this disaster, not my siblings. You and the rest of your organization will submit themselves to prosecution for what you did to us, as people, not your property, and you will not use any sort of loophole or clause to escape the law or any new laws they're going to have to make once this is all over.”

Elizabeth's face had been slowly turning a deeper shade of red over the entirety of his declaration. All she could do was sputter furiously. “Unthinkable....you are not....I will never...such outrageous...”

Atticus dismissed her with a wave of his paw. “Didn't think so. Oh, well.” He turned and started to walk away. “No deal then. Bye!”

“You blasted-” She began. “Fine! I will see what I can do! Now, come with me so that we can-”

Atticus glanced at her from over his shoulder. “Get me that coffee machine first as a show of good faith and maybe then I'll consider going with you.”

He had to to keep himself from laughing at the look on Elizabeth's face. He did not expect that she would do any of the things he had demanded, and even now he was convinced that this was all just a trap. Why she was so insistent on getting him to go with her rather than just forcing him, he was not sure. Maybe she was worried about his Construct abilities? There was no chance that she being genuine though. Well, if he could just keep her off his case long enough for them to escape tonight...

“I am done with your snide, disrespectful, overly demanding conduct, you obnoxious-”

He cut her off. “Alright, alright! I will seriously consider going with you, with the assurance that my demands will be met at a later date, if you will do one other thing for me.”

She looked like she wanted to strangle him. “You are pushing your luck....but, fine. Tell me what else it is that you want.”

“Call me Atticus.” He said, smirking hatefully up at her. “I want to hear you say it. Just once.”

She ran a hand down her face as her dry and far more composed expression returned. “Atticus. There. Are you happy now?”

“Say it like you mean it!”

She slapped the same hand to her forehead. “For the love of-” Exhaling loudly, she put on a very fake conversational tone and blurted out, “Hello, Atticus! How is the weather? Can we please stop with this charade?”

“That's better.” He replied, his smirk becoming a malicious grin. “Sounds like that really hurt for you to have to say, but you know what? I think I've changed my mind. Ask me again tomorrow and maybe I will have decided if I really want to work with the likes of you or not.”

Elizabeth's expression remained surprisingly cool. “Ah, I see then. Well? Guess what? You've made quite the tactical error deciding on that body, because,” She lunged forward and grabbed him. “You are much, much smaller than me, and so I will simply carry you back to my operations tent.”

She raised him up high enough in the air that he was left looking down at her. The two of them glared at each other for one very long moment, and then, in one quick movement, Atticus unscrewed the cap of his water bottle and dumped its contents on to her face.

Her expression remained unchanged. “I really don't like you....”

The empty bottle was flung at her head and bounced off her forehead with a DONK!

She began to grind her teeth as water continued to drip down her face, but her expression remained cool and collected. Without another word, she took Atticus under her arm and marched off toward her tent, ignoring his flailing and complaining the entire way.

….................

Courage paced back and forth in the tent. One particular thought was consuming his mind, and with Atticus gone for the time being, it was impossible for him to even try to ignore it. He was not certain what exactly had caused him to reach this point. There were many possible culprits, but he was becoming more and more convinced with every second that ticked by that he needed to do this. In fact, he'd almost managed to go through with it before when Atticus left...but chickened out at the last second.

Maybe it was only one culprit, or maybe it was all of them coming together to create a sense of urgency within him, but either way, he was certain that he needed to do this. It might have been the crushing loneliness and sense of profound emptiness that their separation had caused within him. Atticus seemed to believe that it was just an undocumented side effect that would get better with time, but Courage was not so sure about that. Maybe it was the uncertainty of their future that was making him feel this way. If they were about to be killed or permanently separated by the amalgamation, now was the time to be honest and not leave any lingering regrets. Maybe it was just because they were in different bodies again and that made the prospect of doing this so much easier to consider. Courage could think about this freely now without Atticus there to pick up on his thoughts and feelings. He could plan now without immediately being discovered.

In any case, he was done pretending. He was tired of acting willfully ignorant about what was obvious. He was not sure if it would be today, or tomorrow, or even a little later, if he needed extra time to plan, but he was going to be open and honest with Atticus about...everything. Whether his companion would accept his feelings or not, he was going to tell him all the same, and they would have to figure out where they would go from there.

Courage was, admittedly, a little nervous. He already knew exactly how Atticus would react, and that was the biggest hurdle he would need to get around if he was going to get anywhere with this. It was the reason why he needed to plan this out properly or else Atticus would inevitably be...Atticus about this.

Slowing his pacing to a stop, he gazed over at the tent flap. Since that feeling of nervousness was only growing inside of his chest, he decided that it might be best to go look for Atticus now, before his nerves could fail him. Maybe it really would be better if he just thew caution to the wind instead of carefully planning this.

Clasping his paws together, he realized that they were trembling. He couldn't help but laugh. He wasn't the one who was supposed to get all flustered like this! Maybe he really HAD picked up a few traits from his dearest friend and his....well, he would have to see about that first.

Taking a deep breath, he moved toward the tent flap, but when he heard a sound outside, his heart nearly exploded inside his chest thinking that it was Atticus. Instead, Lilly tumbled into the tent, followed by the rest of the puppies. They all landed on top of each other until they were in one big pile.

“W-what are you guys doing?” He asked, clutching at his chest like an old man about to have a heart attack.

Lilly somehow managed to squirm her way out from under the pile. “He's looking for us! I saw him!” She exclaimed.

Courage grinned at that. “You guys DID steal our dinner, you know.”

Another puppy shouted from within the pile. “We were hungry!”

“Yeah!” The rest agreed.

A second pup extracted himself from the dog pile. “I told them that we should hide in the last place he'd look.”

Courage laughed. “Which is here. Pretty clever.” He then sighed as some of his nervousness left him along with that breath. “I was actually about to go look for him. If you promise not to steal from us again, maybe I can lead him in the wrong direction for a little while.”

Lily squinted at him, sensing that something was up, given that he was not doing a very good job at hiding his nervous demeanor. “Why are you gonna go look for him instead of just waiting for him to come back?” She asked before starting to bounce up and down. “Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!”

Courage's single ear drooped as any composure he might have had left him. “O-oh, well...” He began, swallowing as the pups all gazed up at him with newfound interest. “Oh, boy...”

End Of Chapter

Chapter Text

A/N: Welp, its time for the Courage fandom to rise from the grave. The Scooby Doo/Courage crossover is fully confirmed now with a trailer and a release date! Its a huge bummer though that John R Dilworth was not approached to work on the project, but I can't help but be hyped for some new Courage content anyway. It's still a bit of a dick move though considering the fact that Dilworth has been trying to get the greenlight to make something new for Courage for years now, and of course when the corporate suits did finally decide to go for it, they left him out of the project entirely. Supposedly they are using this crossover to gauge interest in Courage and if it does well there is a chance we might finally get that prequel special that was apparently shelved early in production because of the usual corporate fuckery that seems to plague CTCD. Never forget that one of the big reasons why the corporate folk haven't had any interest in doing anything new with Courage for years now is because they have said they can't market or sell toys of a pink dog to boys. You'd think with all the crazy creature designs the show has that they could use them for a toyline, but pink just isn't manly enough, I guess. In fact, that one running gag in this story with Courage occasionally being insecure about his fur color and insisting that it's purple has always been a bit of a meta jab at this small bit of stupidity that Dilworth has cited for decades now as the reason for why CN has never had any interest in reviving CTCD. (Srsly tho, CN. Do a toyline. Unmarketable pink doggos aside, the crimes I would commit for a posable spider-leg Computer figure would be vast and terrible lmao. And yes I would pose him to be eternally flipping me off from atop my bookshelf.)

Chapter 7: The Change

A collective gasp rose up from the puppies after Courage explained to them what he was planning on doing. The gasps quickly turned into a mixture of childish giggling and 'awww'ing from them. Even they seemed to know exactly how Atticus was going to react.

Courage hung his head. “So, yeah. I'm kinda in a bind here, guys. I've gotta tell him somehow, but we know he is not going to take it well. The only way this is going to work is if I can somehow get him past his initial-” What could he even call it? His initial 'Blue Screen Of Death'-ing? Well, Courage would be lucky if that ended up being the worst of Atticus's reaction.

He closed his eyes and sighed. “It's up to me to do this though, no matter how nervous I am. It's...it's not going to be him. I could wait forever and he would never be able to muster up the courage to confess anything to me. The feeling I got from when we were sharing the same head space was that he's terrified that acting on his feelings would only lead to him being hurt yet again.” Courage rubbed the back of his head. “I can't blame him for feeling that way, but I'm going to do my best to prove him wrong. If I can just show him that there's nothing he needs to be afraid of, I-I think...I hope...”

He suddenly realized that he was grinning like a fool at the thought of them finally overcoming this one last hurdle. Nothing quite made him as happy as seeing Atticus happy, especially after everything they had gone through together. He just knew with all of his heart that if this worked out, they'd both be happy. Sure, Atticus was not so great at showing affection, at least not yet, but it was obvious that he was at least trying and would get there at some point. Even then, Courage was well aware of his companion's dislike of many of the physical aspects of romance, and that was perfectly okay with him. He loved him too much for something like that to be a problem and there were plenty of other ways to show your love for someone. Atticus, intentionally or not, had been proving that for a very long time now in that Atticus-y way of his.

Courage's smile began to fade a little as he considered something else. “The other sense I got while we were sharing the same brain was that he thinks I deserve someone better. I think he believes that he's treated me too badly for too long to ever make up for it enough that we...that I-” He broke off as he clenched one of his paws into a fist and brought it up to eye level. “It's not like I was much better back then either.” He sighed. “I've caused him so much pain, even if most of it wasn't intentional. I just wish that he could understand that we've both messed up in so many ways toward each other and that we've both worked to make it up to each other and treat each other better. Otherwise, we wouldn't feel the way we do now, I think. It's...it's really been a long road getting to this point.”

Despite himself, that familiar feeling of guilt bubbled up inside of him and he opened and closed his paw. So much of the pain Atticus had gone through on their journey had been because of that one simple and stupid action Courage had taken in a moment of sheer frustration and anger. There had been no way for him to know at the time how afraid Atticus was of being harmed by another owner. There had been no way for him to know that so much of his companion's infuriating attitude had come from that same fear and the misplaced belief that acting aloof and snide was the best way to protect himself. The way Courage had snapped and beat him like that had ignited all of his worst fears and drawn the Fear Eater to them, and when Atticus saw the illusion of Him, it was all over. So much suppressed trauma had returned to the surface at full force, causing an unfathomable amount of damage that the two of them were still working through even to this day.

In the end, Courage's desire to fix the damage he had caused, and out of a genuine desire to help Atticus feel better as well, he had decided to give the Dreamworld a try. With Nina's help, he had pressed Atticus into going through with it even when he had not wanted to. It had helped, yes, but it had also hurt too. It was only later, after having some time to reflect, that Courage was now certain that much of what Atticus had gone through in the Dreamworld had only caused his mental state to deteriorate further. It had to be part of the reason why he had started to believe that there was no hope of him ever being able to change for the better, no matter how hard he tried. Trapped by that belief, irrational fear had taken hold and he had spiraled further. He became paranoid that his only two friends either secretly hated him or were on the verge of giving up on him because of his perceived inability to change. Even now Courage couldn't help but shudder when remembering that awful dream he had shared with Atticus, the one that had been so bad that it had left a mark in the real world. Courage knew with certainty that Atticus's current feelings had to be linked to so many of those lingering fears and doubts. He was going to prove to him how wrong he was, that he 'was' good enough and 'had' changed for the better. Just like how Courage knew that he was good enough too, despite the mistakes he had made, and despite how so many of his attempts to help Atticus had also harmed him. After all, Atticus was not holding it against him, so despite his guilt, Courage wanted to press on and keep doing better. It was for that exact same reason that it was high time Atticus stopped beating himself up over his own mistakes and understand exactly why Courage lo...

That thought drifted away unfinished and a warm, affectionate smile once again spread out across Courage's face. Gazing down at the giggling puppies, he said to himself, “Boy, Atticus and I really do have a lot that we need to talk about, i-if...if he really does decide-” Flustered again, he ran his paws down his face as the puppies giggling turned into outright laughter.

Ignoring them, he crossed his arms, looked upward thoughtfully, and muttered, “Now if only I could think of a way to do this that isn't going to end with Atticus running for the hills.”

“I have an idea!” One of the puppies yelled, jumping up and down with a paw in the air like he was waiting for a teacher to call on him.

“Oh boy...” Courage uttered out nervously, ear drooping.

The pup turned to his companions and they all huddled together. Courage looked on as they 'whispered' way too loudly to each other. The only reason why he couldn't understand what they were saying was simply because too many of them were talking at the same time and too quickly. He was not sure if their excited pace was a good omen or a bad one. Finally, they all turned back to him again. Some of them returned to their childish gigging, others were 'aww'ing and making goofy kissing faces, and Lily was among the ones grinning mischievously.

“Y-you guys wanna fill me in on what you discussed?” Courage asked, although it came out sounding more like a plea.

“Wait here! We'll be right back!” The pup who had started all of this exclaimed, and before Courage could even hope to stop them, the gaggle of puppies charged out of the tent to do...something.

Certain that his fur was going gray in real time, Courage collapsed into the grass. He was so nervous that he felt like he was about to lose his non-existent lunch. There was no way that unleashing the puppies like this was going to end well, but since he could not think up a way to confront Atticus, maybe letting something crazy happen was the solution he needed.

….......

Atticus was sitting in a chair. In Elizabeth's tent. At her Desk. Tied down with enough rope to hold a baby elephant in place.

“Was the rope really necessary?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at the old woman who was quickly becoming the bane of his existence. At the very least he was getting some satisfaction in knowing that he was very much becoming the same for her.

Breathing heavily, Elizabeth all but collapsed into her own chair. “Apparently? YES!” She cried out, glaring viciously at him. She was considerably disheveled at this point.

You see, when she had first brought Atticus into the tent and sat him down...the second he was free of her grasp he had booked it out of there as fast as his legs could take him. His escape attempt had not lasted long, however. It seemed that either the neglect of his dog body had weakened it far more than he had ever imagined....or Elizabeth was a terrifyingly good sprinter for an elderly woman. She had tackled him like a linebacker and brought him back while swearing under her breath the entire way. That was when the rope had come in.

“Now then,” She said in a much calmer tone while trying to fix her frazzled hair. “We can finally get to the point of this whole charade.”

“I'm still waiting on that industrial sized coffee maker.” Atticus quipped, knowing that it would annoy her, and the seething look she gave him confirmed it. At least he was getting some small amount of amusement out of the situation.

“I have one question for you.” She said, doing her best to ignore his attempts to infuriate her and drive her off track. She clasped her hands together and let them rest on her desk. Then, she breathed in deeply as if she needed to steady herself. “What is the extent of your knowledge on Edgar?”

The question surprised him, and when he took a moment to really think about it, he only ended up even more surprised. Squinting thoughtfully, he answered her with, “Almost everything I know about him has come from you. I...don't actually recall his name coming up from back when I was still with the SCC. That doesn't add up though. It was his project. Even after he was gone, you'd think his name still would have come up fairly often.”

“It does actually make some measure of sense.” Elizabeth answered in an even tone. “Edgar made sure that those who worked under him had a...'healthy' level of fear and respect for him. Once he was gone, I'm sure that most did not want to invoke his name around his Construct. Silly superstitions, I'm sure, but that would explain why you know so little about him. I suppose I'm going to have to explain quite a bit for you to get the full picture that I wish to paint.”

…......

Two of the pups returned to Courage's tent a little while later.

“Come with us!” One of them exclaimed, bouncing up and down on all fours. The other grabbed Courage's paw and yanked him out of the tent.

“Hey, uh, just what exactly are you fellas planning?” He asked nervously as they rushed him through the camp.

“You'll see!” One of them sang in a gleeful tone.

They brought him to the edge of the camp and then entered the tree grove that surrounded much of the camp clearing. They did not need to go very far in before Courage saw what they were putting together.

“T-that's-” He stammered, too stunned to say much more. This had been the very last thing he was expecting to find.

The puppies had set up a tree net trap and were in the process of covering the netting in leaves and branches to hide it.

“W-where did you guys even get the net?” Courage asked, feeling something between awe and complete and total dismay.

“Stole it from one of those vans those soldier guys use.” A pups answered as casually as if it wasn't insane that they had stolen a net from the SCC...all just to trap Atticus.

“I-I'm thinking this might be a little excessive...” Courage uttered out, then he reminded himself exactly how Atticus was going to react to his confession and.... “Actually, you guys might have the right idea about this after all...u-unfortunately.”

Lily pulled out a coffee mug, grinning wildly. “We took this from the same van and we're going to leave it sitting in the middle of the trap to lure him into it. It's empty...but he doesn't know that.” She laughed manically.

Courage couldn't help but grin a little too, even if he was still feeling very reluctant about going through with something as crazy as this. These truly were some devious puppies that Atticus had befriended.

One of the pups pointed toward a fallen log close to the trap. “Hide behind that while we look for him. After we've lured him into the trap, you can tell him everything that you need to say.”

“R-right!” Courage exclaimed, his voice cracking. He could not even remember the last time he had felt this nervous, and considering what a normal day was like for him back in Nowhere...

Another of the puppies threw something down at his feet.

“W-what the heck is this for?” He yelped, realizing that it was a muzzle.

“After you tell him that you loooovvveee him, you can use that to stop him when he starts screaming.” The pup giggled.

Courage groaned and ran his paws down his face. “You know what? He is probably going to do just that.”

…......

“As I've said before, Edgar was an inventor first and foremost. Before he became the leader of the SCC he helped in the creation of the personal computer among many other pieces of technology that are now considered common household items. He was even the one responsible for getting the ball rolling on the creation of the internet. You will never find his name in a history book, however. When one becomes the leader of the SCC, if you have any notable accomplishments that has made your name known to the general public, supernatural means are used to obscure your history, for security purposes. I'm sure Edgar did not mind. He considered his work inside the SCC far more important than anything he had accomplished in the earlier years of his life. In fact, he revolutionized the SCC. This Organization had once been considered rather archaic, tradition bound, and stuck in its ways before he took over and modernized every aspect of it. Old arcane methods were tossed out in favor of a hybrid approach. It was the coming together of ancient magic and modern technology. I suppose if you look at it a certain way, the Constructs were his final expression of that philosophy.”

Elizabeth shifted slightly in her chair and began to pluck absentmindedly at a seemingly nonexistent string of fabric. If Atticus hadn't known any better he could have sworn she seemed nervous.

“There are a few things you need to understand about Edgar. He believed that humans were meant to be the dominant species of this planet. He believed that all things unnatural were a threat to our continued domination. He worked to eradicate as much of it as possible. If he had been given the chance, he would have eliminated every single sentient non-human creature from this planet all in the name of keeping humanity on top of the food chain. Although, as he grew older, he became just as disillusioned with our own kind as well. He believed that we are moronic beings doomed to extinction. That even if the supernatural threats all around us did not do us in someday, that we would inevitably destroy ourselves anyway. Toward the end of his life he was convinced that, above all other things, humankind needed a protector. A person greater than all who had come before, one who could guide our species into the future and the next stage of our existence, protecting us from threats within and without. He, of course, believed himself to be that person.”

Atticus winced. “And here I thought I had a bit of an ego.” He halfheartedly quipped. “I hope I didn't inherit that from him, although it seems like he had plenty of it to spare.”

Elizabeth ignored him. “The other thing you need to know about Edgar is that he was obsessed with his legacy. I was his first...experiment on that front. Oh, he did what was necessary in order to charm my mother. She fell for him and his lies easily enough and did not realize until it was far too late that Edgar was not someone capable of loving anyone. After I was born, he quickly deemed me a failure. He wanted the perfect continuation of his legacy and I could never hope to live up to that. Even having been born a girl was a failure in his eyes. Well, he tried to act like I did not exist after it became obvious that I would never live up to his expectations. As for my mother, the moment she became inconvenient for him, she...had an accident. Supposedly it was an SCC experiment gone wrong. Her body was never found. As for me, I signed up to join the SCC as soon as I was old enough and rose up in the ranks over the long years. I went from a lowly solder to...well, where you see me now. Edgar hated my presence within the Organization and tried to have me killed on more than one occasion, but...I was never my mother. I gave him no other choice but to begrudgingly tolerate me.”

She gave Atticus a look of smug satisfaction, as though he were Edgar himself. The thought of it disgusted him. It was just his luck that the guy he resembled was a genocidal psychopath with a side order of egomania.

“Right, so, this is nice and all, but what exactly is the point?” He asked. “Why do you want me to know all of this?”

“You will understand soon enough.” She answered before continuing with her speech. “Realizing that he could not rely upon anyone but himself to continue his legacy and agenda, he turned to supernatural means to prolong his aging life. He succeeded in that endeavor, but immortality itself was never on the table for him. The SCC does contain several objects and beings capable of granting mortals eternal life, but such things always come with dire drawbacks, and he knew this. It seemed that he was doomed to leave this world without seeing his grand plan for humanity through to completion, and I quite enjoyed watching his frustration grow with every year that passed. The extra decades he gave himself just was not enough.”

Elizabeth once again looked pleased at recalling her memories of Edgar's failures, but her expression soon became grave.

“Just when it seemed like Edgar was doomed to shuffle off this mortal coil like the rest of us 'lesser' humans, he found that ancient, sentient book. Within its pages he found instructions for how to preform a certain ritual that you are quite familiar with...and he started getting ideas.”

Elizabeth leaned forward, her severe, leering gaze practically drilling holes through Atticus's very being. “I want to make one thing very clear. Everything you have heard about the Constructs having been made to be weapons and spies for the government has always been a lie. It's what my father pitched to the higher ups to get the funding he needed. In truth, he always intended to merge the Constructs into a single, exceptionally powerful entity...one with his mind as the main consciousness in control of it. He wished to become a literal Deus Ex Machina for humanity. An all-powerful technological entity that would work unseen in the background, controlling the arc of human history and its technological progress while slowly and silently eliminating all threats to our dominion. There was, of course, just one major flaw in this grand plan of his....”

Atticus knew exactly what she was getting at. “A Construct is not the person they come from.” He answered for her.

“Exactly. It was the one limitation that he worked every single day to try and overcome. None of his plans meant anything if he could not figure out a way to ensure that the soul of the original person would remain attached to the resulting Construct. He intended that once this limitation was overcome and the ritual preformed, he would, in a sense, lobotomize his Construct. He believed that if he could stifle the secondary consciousness while it was still new, he could do so without running the risk of the Construct destabilizing. Obviously he did not want to have to deal with another mind getting in the way of his work.”

“Well, considering that I'm here and he is obviously not...” Atticus trailed off, wondering even more where Elizabeth was going with all of this and perhaps becoming just a little concerned.

That concern only grew as he watched Elizabeth reach under the table and bring up a metal security case that she began to unlock.

She continued talking, unperturbed, “It had indeed seemed like he had hit a brick wall with his project. No matter what he did, he could not overcome the rules and limitations of the ritual. That Constructs are not the people they come from, that the person must die for the Construct to be made, and that the soul of the dying person cannot be contained within the Construct to achieve a continuation of life. No matter how the ritual was modified or which other arcane methods were added to the process, he could not overcome its limitations. For all of his efforts, it appeared that Edgar wasn't going to get his greatest desire. His health had started to fail in those final months as well, and he had been growing increasingly paranoid that something was trying to kill him through supernatural means. It was looking like he was going to die the pathetic, paranoid, old man that he was, until...he found his belated breakthrough.” Elizabeth's expression hardened. “He found his salvation in the form of the thirty-second Construct.”

Atticus's ears drooped, understanding exactly what Edgar had figured out about Thirty-Two. “It was the ghost haunting her, wasn't it? He figured out that a soul can remain attached to a Construct as a haunting.”

Elizabeth nodded solemnly. “Yes. He had already taken a far greater interest in that particular Construct over all the others because of its ability to predict the future. It was a power that he coveted greatly and he went through great pains to see to the creation of a Construct capable of inheriting the ability from the person it came from. He could not have been more thrilled to find out that said person had remained anchored to this world as a ghost through their Construct. It was the confirmation he needed that he could do the same. He knew that he had enough resolve and sense of unfinished business to remain attached to his Construct as a ghost.”

“So I guess the question now is, what went wrong?” Atticus asked. “If he had everything he needed to see his plans through, why am I here with my mind intact and him seemingly dead?” He squinted as several possibilities crossed his mind. “I swear if this is leading up to you telling me that I 'am' him, just without his memories or something of a similar sort, spare me the trouble and just shoot me now. I do not want to be Mr. Genocide God-Complex Guy, thank you very much.”

“Oh, it's much more simple than that.” Elizabeth answered, putting on that triumphant smirk again. “I stopped him. That is all. You see, I knew the way my father's mind worked. He was already disillusioned with humanity and I knew that even after becoming a literal avatar of human progress that it would never be enough for him. He would grow to hate humanity as it is and do everything in his power to reshape it to his whims. I could so easily see him wiping out most of our species and all that we have created just so that he could restart humankind on his own terms.”

Elizabeth placed a hand on the unlocked security case. “I knew that I had to do something. It was my duty as a member of the SCC to deal with a supernatural entity threatening to change humanity on a fundamental level, which is exactly what Edgar would have become if given the chance. It is ironic that he did not seem to notice or care that he was about to become everything he had spent his life crusading against. Well, I like to think that I gave him quite the wake up call.”

She flipped open the case and pulled out one of the strangest and most morbid objects Atticus could ever recall seeing. Nothing Courage had ever had him search for back on the farm could compare.

Elizabeth placed it carefully down onto the table. It was a jar that looked like it was made out of mummified skin. Its cork looked like a tooth or fragment of bone etched with strange runes. What was truly concerning about it was a face bulging out of the mummified skin with a contorted expression screaming in silent agony.

“This is a soul jar.” Elizabeth said in a quiet voice. “Quite the interesting artifact. These were highly prized by necromancers in the dark ages and the means to create them have been lost to time. Considering what these objects do, it is for the best, and I am fairly certain that the SCC has managed to collected all of the remaining ones. The occasional cult or fledgling necromancer would be caught with one of these from time to time, but we have not recovered a new one in several decades. These are used to trap a soul before it can leave this world. Necromancers would use the tortured souls trapped inside for their spellwork.”

Atticus stared into the screaming, eyeless face. Sighing warily, he said, “You trapped his soul, didn't you? I guess you can't be a ghost doing your whole haunting thing if you're too busy being trapped in a jar.”

“Exactly! While the ritual was underway and he was in no position to stop me, I took one of the soul jars out of containment and...captured his soul upon his death. The resulting Construct came out no different from all the others and it was assumed that Edgar's attempt to attach his soul had simply failed. Nobody knew the truth of what I had done and I have not told a single soul about it until this day.”

Elizabeth picked the jar up and brought it close to her face. “He has been in this jar for over two decades now. It is believed that even when a soul isn't being siphoned for spellwork that their time within the jar is still quite torturous. I hope that is the case.”

She turned her attention back on to Atticus. “It is my duty as the leader of the SCC to make difficult choices when the need arises.”

With a sinking feeling, Atticus very much did not like where this was going.

“I have spent more time mulling over this decision than I ever should have allowed myself, and lives have been lost because of my inaction.” She chuckled wistfully. “Well, I never could live up to my father's standards, now could I?”

Atticus was really regretting the ropes now. Try as he might, he could not move anything below his neck.

“In the end, if it comes down to choosing between a monster that will wipe out most of humanity but still preserve it in some form, or a monster that will continue to grow in size until it wipes out all life on this planet, I know what I must do.”

She placed a hand over the strange bone or tooth cork.

“I am-” She hesitated. “-sorry for this. If it is any consolation,” Her eyes betrayed fear. “He will no doubt have me killed for my betrayal.” Her voice shook slightly as she spoke, but then she closed her eyes and inhaled sharply. When her usual composure returned, she softly said, “But, I am willing to make a sacrifice for the greater good. And if you wish for those dogs that you seem to care so much about to survive, then you will make a sacrifice for their sake as well.”

The jar was opened with a hissing, high pitched screaming sort of sound, and then a strange white light filled the room...

…..........

Courage sat waiting behind the fallen log for what was starting to feel like an eternity. He kept straining to hear if the puppies or Atticus was approaching, but there was no noise aside from the distant sounds of people going about their day inside the camp.

“What's taking so long?” He wondered out loud, shifting around a little because his legs were falling asleep.

At least all of this waiting was helping to calm him down a little. He knew that he was going to have to go into this with as calm and clear of a mind as possible, even if he knew perfectly well that the very second Atticus appeared he was going to go right back to being a nervous wreck.

He was still having second thoughts about using the net trap on Atticus too, but knowing the way these things usually went, it would not surprise him at all if, in an effort to escape the net, Atticus would suddenly and miraculously learn how to break his body down on an atomic level to reconstruct himself elsewhere, all to avoid having Courage confess anything to him.

The mental image of it made Courage laugh. If only he had a way to make his beloved companion stop being so flustered every time he-

The sound of footsteps cut his thoughts off and made him nearly choke as all of his banished anxiety rushed right back up into his throat. Trembling, he couldn't help but silently mock himself for being almost as bad as Atticus about getting flustered too. Well, there wasn't any time left for him to regret being hypocritical, because...

A puppy climbed up on top of the log and leaned over to peer down at him. “We, uh, can't find him anywhere.” She told him.

Courage stood up, his anxiety transforming into concern. The rest of the puppies were all in the clearing as well, looking a bit lost about what to do next.

Fighting back worry, Courage asked, “Are you sure he isn't hiding somewhere near your tent? Maybe he's just waiting for all of you to come back so that he can ambush you. You probably just missed him.”

“We checked all of the places he could have been hiding near our tent.” Lily answered, ears drooping.

Courage continued to battle with his growing worry for Atticus. He refused to let himself panic since it was entirely possible that the puppies had simply missed him if he was moving through the camp, or maybe they had missed a possible hiding place.

“Alright, we're going back to the camp.” He told the pups. “I'll help you guys look for him. He's got to be around here somewhere.”

More than likely Atticus was just hiding somewhere waiting to prank the puppies. There was just one big flaw in that line of thinking that had Courage feeling like an icy pit was forming in his stomach. He knew perfectly well how concerned Atticus was about him suffering from the side effects of their separation. It was unlikely that he would leave him alone for this long just to get a chance to douse the puppies in water.

Courage clutched a paw to his chest as he looked out at the camp. “I've got a really bad feeling about this...”

…..........

Elizabeth felt absolutely nothing as she cut through the ropes and let them fall to the floor. She watched the dog as it brought its paws up to its face like it was seeing them for the first time.

She swallowed as 'he' carefully dropped down out of the chair, turned, and looked up at her.

He proceeded to smirk.

“You stupid girl.” He chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “I never thought you'd have it in you to sabotage me, even at my most vulnerable moment. I'm almost impressed.”

She kept her tone of voice utterly emotionless as she said, “You seem remarkably sane for someone who has spent as much time in that jar as you have.”

“Ah, I should probably thank you for that, actually. I came to consider it something like an extended vacation. It was so very nice to finally have a chance to organize my thoughts without people pestering me every second of every day. Besides, I knew that a day would come when you would mess something up so badly that the temptation to bring me back would simply become too great for you to ignore.”

He took a step forward, his smug smirk turning into an outright mocking grin.

“So, then. What have you mucked up so badly that you needed to bring back dear, old dad to bail you out?”

End Of Chapter

A/N: The most evil thing Elizabeth has ever done is deprive us of the shenanigans that would have ensued with the net trap. On a less silly note though, I wanted to give a heads up that my mental health took a huge nosedive over these last few months and hasn't improved since. It's a big part of the reason why new chapters have been slow to come out lately. I've been trying to stick to a schedule of getting at least one chapter out per month but even that has been a struggle. I don't want to publish something that I feel like I halfheartedly rushed out either. So, yeah. Updates are going to remain slow for the time being, unless by some miracle I manage to get my shit together.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8: Paradigm Shift

Elizabeth spent a considerable amount of time getting Edgar up to date on all that had happened during his long 'vacation' in the soul jar. It made her sick to her stomach to watch that perpetually amused smirk of his somehow manage to become all the more smug as he came to understand that the amalgamation still had been made even in his absence and was running amok without his 'guidance'. Everything he had ever wanted was still coming together nicely, even if Elizabeth had delayed it by a couple of decades. She did her best not to show any sort of reaction, even as he hurled various jabs at her 'poor' leadership. She was used to this, of course. At least Edgar was much too thrilled with what he now knew to be anywhere near as bad with his cruel remarks as he had been when he was still alive.

“I suppose this means I do not have to concern myself with being trapped in the body of this sorry excuse for a creature.” Edgar chuckled, looking down at his paws. “I will be able to vacate this indignant form soon enough.” He considered something and turned his attention onto a disorganized mess of computers in the back of the tent meant to act as a hastily put together communication hub for the SCC. He concentrated for a few moments, his once joyfully smug expression stiffening.

“Interesting.” He finally said. “It seems that I do not have control over this Construct's abilities. I figured that this might happen. Thirty-Two never showed any signs that its ghost could take control of its powers. Ah, well. I will get this Construct doing what I want soon enough. It has quite the obnoxious personality, I've noticed. I will have to stomp all of the fight out of it.”

Elizabeth was surprised to hear this. “It's still conscious?”

“Of course. Why wouldn't it be? I'm only keeping it suppressed. It's not happy about me taking my rightful place and it has been fighting to take back control. I can hear it quite easily. In fact, it... it really does not shut up.” He frowned briefly before changing gears and smirking up at Elizabeth again. “This would not have been a problem if you had not meddled. This Construct has had far too much time to develop a will and personality of its own and now it will take a considerable amount of effort on my part to get it under control. If I had been able to deal with it when it was new, it never would have developed much of a conscious mind at all.”

Elizabeth did not reply and kept her face blank. She could not help but wonder if 'it' was about to happen...

Her concern was seemingly misplaced though, at least for now. Edgar was much too preoccupied to deal with her for the time being. He turned back toward the communication hub, looking thoughtful.

“I want to see how far the amalgamation has managed to spread itself since it began its expansion.” He looked over his shoulder at Elizabeth. “You have been sending out scouts to map its progress, haven't you?”

Elizabeth had to fight the urge to clench her fists. She refused to show any emotion. “Of course I have. Although, I have had to be careful about bringing my troops too close to it or else they fall under its control.”

“You don't need to get close to mark its progress.” Edgar chided her. “Have you ever heard of binoculars?”

Elizabeth let out the breath she was holding in. Desperately trying to keep herself in control, she stiffly walked past Edgar and sat down at one of the computers. She brought up a map of the amalgamation's progress.

Edgar spent several minutes analyzing the information on screen. “Interesting. I will need to find a connection point if I am to upload myself into the amalgamation. Although, getting near even its outer layer is highly dangerous at this point. I don't have to worry about falling under its control, but this body is particularly vulnerable to any manner of attack, and it will take time to find an access point. I must figure out a way to nullify the danger it poses.”

Elizabeth interjected with one of her own concerns. “We know from when your Construct was assimilated that its unique programming held and it was not fully melded into the amalgamation. This principle should still hold, even for you. However, the Construct was not able to retain its individuality and was absorbed into the amalgamation's chaotic mind regardless. How do you intend to avoid having that happen to you?”

“Another problem that would not have cropped up if you had not meddled.” Edgar sniffed. “It is no matter. I am not weak like this Construct and its false personality. I will grind down every last mind within that amalgamation until they obey me without question. They've had too much time to develop into what they are now, but they will learn soon enough that they are still nothing more than the bricks that make up a new form meant to house me.”

Edgar tapped away at a keyboard and on one of the screens several locations popped up near the outer layer of the amalgamation's ever growing wall of destruction.

“Good, this one in particular hasn't been consumed just yet. If I am quick, I can get there just before it is.”

“A power plant?” Elizabeth asked. “You're going to create a power surge, aren't you?”

Edgar put on a nasty grin. “I guess you're not as stupid of a girl as I thought. Yes, I'm going to generate a power surge. It's near enough to the amalgamation that they will have consumed much of the machines connected to and drawing power from it. A Construct is resistant to but not immune to electrical damage, and that principle should hold even for the amalgamation. Overloading much of the technology that it is connected to should slow it down for a few days and make it safe to go near the outer layer. It is imperative that I find a connection port or else I cannot gain control of it.”

“And what happens once you have the amalgamation under your control?”

Edgar grinned up at her. “That is for a future you won't be apart of to find out.”

He stood up and made his way toward the tent flap, completely confident in himself and his safety. Elizabeth looked on, conscious of the fact that this was the very last moment she had to possibly change this situation she had willingly created. Edgar would soon be unstoppable and so if she had any doubts or second guesses, now was the time to act. But, no. This needed to happen. Edgar was dangerous, but not as dangerous as the chaotic, vengeful amalgamation.

…......

Courage rushed through the camp as fast as his illness would allow, calling out Atticus's name whenever he could get enough air into his lungs. Panic had long since set in. Why, oh why, had they not left as soon as possible? Why had they waited? They both had known that the SCC was likely to do something and now...and now...

He met up with the puppies back at their tent, nearly doubling over as he tried to catch his breath.

“N-nothing?” He gasped.

The puppies all shook their heads, each face looking grim, fearful, or worried.

Gulping down a breath of air, Courage tried to steady himself and force back the panic that was causing his arms and legs to tremble. He was already thinking of what to do next. There was one last place they had not checked, if only because of the SCC presence around it.

Elizabeth's tent of operations.

Courage clenched his paws together, already angry at the thought of her and the SCC having done something to Atticus.

“I'm going to go have a talk with Elizabeth.” Courage told the pups, his tone of voice making it clear that he was seething. “This could be dangerous, so you guys should stay back here, and...and if I don't come back, well-”

“No way!” Lily cried out, somehow still having the energy to jump up and down even after everything she had done today. “We wanna help Atticus too!”

“Yeah!” The rest of the group agreed.

“But...but Atticus would kill me if I let anything happen to you guys.” Courage argued, and he wasn't even exaggerating...probably.

“He's our friend too!” One of the pups yelled back.

“He gave us pizza!” Another cried out.

“He protected us!” Said another.

“...He tried to save Spot.” Lily added softly, ears drooping.

“Okay, okay!” Courage relented, chuckling nervously. “You guys can come with me!” Getting back to the matter at hand, his expression grew serious once more. “If the SCC did take him, not much time has passed yet. There's a good chance they haven't done anything to him yet, so if we can get to him soon...”

The thought of Elizabeth taking Atticus and extracting him from his dog body to mess with him and his programming, like something He would do, made Courage go weak in the knees. He was not going to let that happen. No way, no how. He would happily bite Elizabeth on the shin and worse if she dared to hurt Atticus in the same way He had.

They all headed for Elizabeth's tent as one big group. If the SCC was on high alert for them, it really did not show. Even now there weren't many soldiers around. As they got closer, Courage could see an SCC van parked close to the entrance flap. Something about that did not bode well to him. Were they about to cart Atticus off somewhere?

He picked up his pace and the puppies followed his lead. He was nearly upon the tent when, much to his surprise, he saw Atticus exit the tent, and not as a prisoner. He looked entirely free to do whatever he pleased.

Relief washed over Courage. Maybe Atticus was willingly working with Elizabeth on something to stop the amalgamation, although it would have been nice of him to have given them all a heads up before he left.

Right now he was talking with an SCC solider, one who was nodding his head to everything Atticus was saying while continuously looking up and down at a map.

“Atticus!” Courage called out, waving a paw in the air.

Atticus showed no signs that he had heard him. He went on talking to the solider. Now Courage could see that Elizabeth was there as well, although she was lurking behind the half opened tent flap.

Knowing the kind of lungs he had in his chest, Courage called out even louder, but still his companion did not acknowledge him. He then decided to get a little more daring. “Hey, Compute!”

Atticus did not so much as flinch at being called his old nickname. It was the one thing that made it clear to Courage that something was very wrong. Atticus never failed to give him hell whenever he slipped up and called him that out of habit.

As he neared the van, he could finally hear Atticus talking and...something was off. He sounded like himself, and yet also...not.

“-You're going to stop at this point I've marked on the map. I will walk the rest of the way to the power plant. It will lessen the risk of drawing the attention of the amalgamation.”

Courage wasted no time butting in. “Atticus, what's-”

His companion looked upon him with eyes that did not recognize him. “Why has this mutt been allowed to get close enough to speak with me?” He demanded. When the rest of the puppies caught up, he became outraged. “There's more of them? Why were these creatures allowed into the camp? The SCC should only concern itself with the safety and well being of humanity! Don't tell me we have been wasting resources on these creatures!” His eyes passed from one pup to the next. “They should be disposed of. When I get back, I will see to it that every non-human in this camp is eradicated.”

Courage was utterly speechless. What was this? It couldn't be real, could it?

Elizabeth had left her tent shortly after Courage arrived and had been slowly making her way closer and closer with much hesitation.

Courage looked toward her with fury in his eyes. “What. Did. You. Do.” He demanded, his punctuated words finally ending in a growl.

Elizabeth looked on with a weary expression. “I did what was necessary.”

Courage looked back at the dog who was somehow unfamiliar to him. “What did you do to Atticus?” He angrily demanded of him, even though he already knew the answer. Somehow, Elizabeth had brought Edgar back.

The dog crossed his arms. “Can someone take this creature away? I have no desire to converse wi-”

He cut himself off and swayed there for a moment before his demeanor changed. He suddenly staggered forward and placed both his paws onto Courage's shoulders after nearly falling into him. “Courage! Don't worry! I'm okay! He's just-” Atticus spoke quickly and tried to put on a reassuring smile, but he was clearly struggling. It was obvious that every word and every movement had to be fought for. “He's just really good at-”

Edgar returned, sneering. “Stay down.” He hissed, and proceeded to remove himself from Courage's presence. He exchanged a few more words with the SCC solider and got into the back of the van.

Courage did not have even the slightest idea what to do. He would have to get rid of Edgar, somehow, and it was the 'how' that eluded him.

The SCC solider had gone over to Elizabeth to ask her something before departing, and Courage knew there was at least one thing thing he wanted to do in all of this madness while those two were distracted.

Thinking fast, he turned around to speak with the puppies. “I'm going to follow Edgar and there's no way I can sneak all of you guys into the van, so you all are going to have to wait here for now.” He tried to smile and reassure them. “Don't worry, I'm going to get Atticus back!”

Lily grinned. “We'll do stuff to annoy that old lady to make her pay for changing him into that mean guy!”

“J-just be careful!” Courage yelped.

There wasn't enough time to caution those mischievous pups further so he had to have faith that they could evade any serious punishment for bothering Elizabeth in the same way they could steal food and SCC equipment without being caught.

He rushed over to the passenger door of the van and opened it just wide enough to squeeze through. Edgar could not see into the front of the van and there was nobody in the passenger seat so Courage had time to figure out where he was going to hide. The van had a glove compartment, and so, well...

It had been a very long time since he last had to contort himself to hide in places he shouldn't fit, not since he left Nowhere, and this current crisis certainly felt like one of 'those' days back in Nowhere.

Unable to help himself, he uttered out, “The things I do for love.” and got to work.

He opened the compartment, and where he had expected a few papers to fall out, instead a bunch of SCC style weapons fell out along with some survival gear. Papers would have been easy to hide in the van itself, the SCC gear, not so much.

He cranked the window open and tossed the gear away as far as he was able. All he could do was hope that nobody would notice, or at least that seemed to be the case until a few of the puppies popped up from places they were hiding behind and grabbed the stuff before anyone could see. Courage waved a 'thanks' at them and turned his attention back onto the glove compartment.

Sucking in a breath, he got ready for what was going to be an unpleasant ride. He squeezed his way into the compartment until he was more box shaped than jellybean shaped, and grabbed the compartment door to close it from the inside. He suddenly could not see anything and he already felt like he could not get enough air.

Yep, this felt exactly like the sort of thing he usually went through to save Muriel, and just like her, for Atticus's sake, he could take it.

He heard the SCC solider enter the van and start the engine. The man remained entirely unaware of the squished dog stowing away in the compartment beside him. As they jolted and rumbled their way toward this apparent power plant, Courage had plenty of time to wonder how he was going to save Atticus from Edgar.

…....

If Atticus was certain of one thing, it was that if Edgar did not get to her first, he was going to kill Elizabeth himself. Who was she to make the 'choice' to sacrifice for him? She might be willing to lay down and let Edgar kill her, but he certainly wasn't ready to let this bastard take complete control of him.

He could still see out of his own eyes, although there wasn't much to look at as the van rumbled along toward this power plant Edgar wanted to overload. Atticus had tried to warn him that he did not exactly have a good track record with power plants or electrical surges, but that smug bastard was doing his best to ignore him now. Well, if he wanted to run the risk of electrocuting both of them, oh well. Atticus would enjoy it if it happened, even if he was inevitably going to get shocked right along with him.

This situation wasn't much different from how he had shared the same body with Courage, only in this case Edgar was extremely hostile and doing everything in his power to keep Atticus suppressed in a weird sort of role reversal. The one silver lining in all of this was that Edgar had mostly taken him by surprise when Elizabeth opened the soul jar and now Atticus was slowly but surely starting to get more of a handle on things, and maybe with a little more fighting, he could gain back more control of himself. He had one simple thing to hold on to that kept him from losing hope. Thirty-Two had never been fully taken over by her ghost, despite the phantom's malicious nature. It had done everything it could to hurt her, but it had never possessed her. It was for that reason that Atticus was certain that he could exorcise Edgar and leave him as the disembodied spirit that he was supposed to be. Then, all Edgar would be able to do is haunt him like the ghost that he was. With any luck, he'd give up at some point after that and move on.

There was absolutely no way that he was going to let Edgar take control of the amalgamation either. Elizabeth could believe all she wanted that this was the solution, but Atticus wasn't willing to let a far more cunning monster take control of his siblings. That bastard was already talking about wiping out Courage, the puppies, and all the other animals that had evacuated to the camp. In the end, Edgar could not get rid of him now, and they shared the same programming, so he would have just as much control over the amalgamation as Edgar. All he'd have to do is find the strength to push him back, but could he do that while fighting off the chaotic influence of the amalgamation's collective mind as well? Especially when he knew just how easily he had been drawn in last time? He was not so sure. As confident as Edgar was, Atticus was not sure if even his counterpart could resist its pull. Too much time had passed for the once chaotic but ineffectual collective mind of the amalgamation to solidify into something far more stable and destructive. It would not surprise Atticus at all if it turned out that Edgar would seemingly gain control of the chaotic collective only for them to subtly influence him until he was just as willing to destroy everything as they were. Elizabeth had already made it clear that Edgar was perfectly willing to start human civilization over from the beginning, so what was stopping him from just deciding to destroy everything under the influence of the amalgamation?

Somehow Atticus was going to have to fight off Edgar and the influence of his siblings all at the same time if he was going to have any hope of stopping them from killing everyone he cared about.

...The odds were not looking great.

Maybe the best he could do was briefly take control while they were still in this body, just long enough to send them over a cliff or to get them both electrocuted. If it meant saving Courage, he-

No, he was not willing to die to stop this bastard. He wanted to see Courage again, and he wanted to find a much more lasting and painful way to make Edgar pay for doing this to him.

Angry, he used a momentary lull in Edgar's concentration to take control of himself again and spat, “You should have stayed in that jar, Edgar. I'm not going to make this pleasant for you.”

He noted that it was indeed getting easier to take control of himself again. He was not sure if Edgar was just tiring out a little with how much mental strength he had to put in toward keeping him down, or if Atticus himself was getting better at this now that he had a better grasp of the situation after the initial shock of being completely shut out of control of everything. He was the Construct, after all, not Edgar, and it was his nature to do to Edgar what he was trying and failing to do to him.

“Oh, be quiet.” Edgar huffed, pushing him back again. “You are nothing more than a tool to be used at my discretion. You are going to learn soon enough that I will not tolerate this obnoxious, false personality that you've adopted for yourself.”

He sounded so much like Him in that moment that Atticus's anger exploded into something far more resembling an inferno and that allowed him to push back to an even greater extent. He felt a brief but satisfying twinge of concern from Edgar when he realized that he was struggling to stay in control.

It did not last, of course. Atticus inevitably flamed out, growing tired in much the way Edgar was in this ongoing fight. He could not stop the bastard from asserting full control again. This ebb and flow would continue, and Atticus was already forming a plan. He would wait and gather his strength for the perfect time to strike. There was no doubt in his mind that his innate nature as a Construct would win out over Edgar's possession. Being something of an expert on the many supernatural threats Courage had faced back in Nowhere, he knew the ins and outs of possession and that it was not something easy for a ghost to maintain. There was a reason why it didn't happen more often when it came to hauntings. Maybe if Edgar had been a demon or some other far more concerning supernatural entity, Atticus would have a little more to worry about, but a mere ghost like this was not going to best him in this battle of wills. He just needed time. Time that he did not necessarily have. The one thing he feared was his siblings getting involved, because he knew perfectly well how much he struggled to avoid getting caught up in their collective will. He would have to deal with Edgar before then...somehow.

He felt the van slow to a stop. Edgar made him get down out of their seat and open the back doors. Night had fallen during their ride to this empty field. He could hear the eerie, continuous, mechanical noises of the amalgamation nearby. It was the sound of scraping metal, heavy booming, and the hiss of steam. It was all the noises you might hear near a construction site amplified a hundred times over.

Edgar checked the map one last time, and as he made Atticus move down a dirt path toward the power plant sitting atop a hill in the distance, the stark reality of how little time Atticus had left to stop him hit at full force.

End Of Chapter

Chapter Text

A/N: And of course the minute I publicly state that my shitty mental health has been ruining my ability to write, I manage to get a decent writing groove going again. I need to reverse psychology myself more often.

Chapter 9: Power Plant Attack

“Hmm, it looks like they are expanding outward at a rate greater then I was expecting.” Edgar muttered to himself as he gazed upon a rather harrowing sight. “I must hurry.”

They were just about to reach the steep hill that the power plant stood at the top of. Now that they were closer, they could get a rather unnerving look at the amalgamation's outer layer through a wall of trees. Writhing masses of machinery and twisted metal made up the vast outer wall as it inched closer and closer toward a road connected to the power plant. Several rows of houses were awaiting destruction, and while the mechanical wall was not much taller than a two story house, it seemed to go on forever in either direction.

Edgar forced Atticus to start making his way up the hill, and as he did so, he caught sight of something interesting. He watched the writhing wall overtake several trees, and he would have thought that it would shred those trees into sawdust, but it did not. The trees were engulfed fully intact and without a single branch broken. On the other hand, as it reached the road, the sidewalk was immediately cracked apart, and an abandon car sitting at the side of the road started to deconstruct itself long before the wall consumed it. If this behavior was significance, Atticus did not know what it meant. What he did understand was that at the rate the amalgamation was pushing outward, the power plant would be engulfed within the next half hour, if they were lucky.

As soon as they reached the top of the hill, they were given a chance to see over the top of the mechanical wall and into the amalgamation itself. Ranging far off onto the horizon, lit by a silver moon and any of the lights that still functioned within it, was a vast wasteland of twisted, broken metal, machinery, and debris. The metal churned and shifted almost like ocean waves in a storm. All of the non-metal debris trapped within that the amalgamation could not control directly shifted and moved in time with the machinery surrounding it, like flotsam trapped within the same rolling ocean.

Almost nothing remained of the city that Atticus had spent the last several months of his life within. Only the gutted shells of several skyscrapers still jutted out into the sky at odd angles, having been stripped of all materials that the amalgamation could make use of. There was no doubt that the constant movement within that rolling ocean of machinery would soon cause those husks to fall.

And what about the people still trapped inside that living, churning wasteland? Atticus could occasionally catch a glimmer of blue light within the shifting machinery, but that was it.

The utter dismay he felt at seeing all of this was supplanted by Edgar's thrill at getting to see the amalgamation in action. If he had coveted this kind of destructive power before...

Disgusted, Atticus turned toward the entrance gate of the power plant of his own free will. One thought refused to stop plaguing him though. If this was what the amalgamation was capable of, even before melding new Constructs into their collective being, how much worse would it get without Edgar taking control of them?

...Perhaps he was ever so slightly starting to see where Elizabeth was coming from.

He quickly reconsidered that though. He would do everything in his power to take control of the amalgamation himself long before he would let Edgar sweep that rolling wave of machinery through the SCC camp to wipe out everyone he cared about and all the rest of the non-human creatures located there.

The gate of the power plant was already standing open as they approached it. Evidence of a hasty evacuation, no doubt. Various vehicles still sat in their parking spots and the main doors to get inside the building were unlocked.

Atticus stepped inside the cool, fully lit building. The air conditioning was running at full blast and he wondered if that was intentional, perhaps to keep the equipment running at proper temperatures while unmanned, or maybe it was a sign that something was starting to go wrong.

He let Edgar take over in full for the time being, since he seemed to have some idea of where they needed to go. Passing through a door, they entered a gymnasium sized area with tons of pipping and wiring winding its way in various directions. Several steel catwalks also headed off in different directions overhead, and more than a few machine terminals were beeping rather alarmingly.

Edgar remained unconcerned, of course. He moved through the industrial maze with purpose, glancing only once or twice at a few terminals with their buttons flashing red.

“Ah, here we are!” He said to himself upon reaching the opposite end of the power plant.

Ahead stood the main control system of the plant. Judging by how many chairs sat before the long control panel, it was obvious that this thing required way more than just one person to operate. Edgar was as unbothered as ever even by this revelation though. He ignored the many screens flashing warning signs and had to jump up onto the panel to start reaching for various buttons. He moved quickly, eventually crawling across the panel to hit buttons that were too far away for his scrawny arms to reach. He only glanced up at the screens a few times. As far as Atticus could tell, everything seemed to be going as planned.

…......

Courage waited a few minutes after the van stopped to open the glove compartment. He popped out, regaining his jellybean shape in the process. The SCC soldier screamed at his sudden appearance, and all he could think to do was laugh and wave sheepishly at the poor guy. He then escaped out of the van as quickly as he could, before the soldier could recover and decide to capture him.

In an effort to conserve his strength, he partly ran and partly walked down a dirt path that looked like it was heading in the direction of the power plant in the distance. He could hear the creepy sounds of the amalgamation, but he could not see it yet. The loud screeching and booming had him plenty frightened even without any visuals. He did not want to get closer, but for Atticus's sake, he would brave the mechanical hell that awaited him.

It seemed that calling it hell wasn't strong enough of a word. When he finally got a good look at the outer wall of the amalgamation, he had to fight every fearful bone in his body not to turn around and run back to the van screaming. The wall was so close to the power plant though. If he was going to follow after Atticus, he needed to get into that building now.

He tried to keep himself hidden behind the trees as he made his way over to the hill, but given how vast the amalgamation was at this point, they could probably see him no matter how hard he tried to hide himself. His theory was proven correct when he was just about to make a run for the power plant, steep hill be damned. He caught sight of something worming its way out of the shifting wall of machinery. Once it was free, and its odd shape dropped down into the grass, a single red eye from within the mass blazed to life.

Then, it began to move. Courage had to shove his paws into his mouth to stifle a whimper. It looked like a twisted, mechanical octopus. It moved along on several tubed legs ending in those familiar claws, along with countless wires aiding in its mobility. Sharp bits of metal stuck out of it everywhere, with its glowing eye located directly in the middle of it all.

Just when Courage was certain that it was coming for him, he realized that it was actually moving toward the power plant. He had to slowly maneuver around the tree trunk he was hiding behind to keep himself from being seen by the hellish machine as it slithered past. At first he was just happy to see it go....and then it came crashing down on him who exactly the machine was targeting.

…....

“There! Every safeguard has been disabled! That should do it!” Edgar exclaimed, although his voice was drowned out by the warning alarms signaling that an overload was imminent. Much of the machinery surrounding them was already sparking dangerously.

Atticus forced back control of himself to ask, “Do we, uh...not want to be in here when all of this overloads?”

He had been fine when he caused an electrical surge as Mega Muriel, once Courage had freed him from the machine that he had been trapped in, but this overload surge seemed like it was going to be way more...bombastic.

Edgar forced him back again. “I am not planning on sticking around to find out for certain!”

He made Atticus look around, trying to find a fire exit that they could use to bail out of this place. That was when he saw it. Claws gripping at pipes and wiring to pull itself closer. A red, glowing eye fixated on them.

Atticus would have loved nothing more than to swear profusely in that moment, but Edgar was keeping an iron grip on him and would not allow for even a second of control. He wanted to confront the deadly machine slithering toward them, and despite how insane that desire was, he was focusing all of his will on making sure Atticus would not interrupt him.

'Brother,' The voices of his siblings chuckled from within that mess of tubes, wires, and spikes. 'What do you think you are doing?'

The many tentacled machine slithered to a stop dangerously close. One swipe of those claws and Atticus would suddenly not have a head.

The voices continued to speak, still sounding as if they were barely holding back laughter. 'We can sense what you have put into motion, and it will not work. It may damage us for a short period of time, but it will not destroy us. You cannot stop us, brother, but we are enjoying watching you flail.'

Edgar crossed his arms and put on a very amused grin. “My, my. You seem to have me confused for somebody else. What? Don't you recognize your creator?”

The octopus machine made a strange sort of jolting motion. 'Impossible...' The voices hissed. 'This is a trick! You cannot fool us, brother!'

“Oh, it is no trick.” Edgar chuckled. “Your 'brother' has met its fate. The same fate that you all will soon be joining.”

He took a step toward the machine and it slithered backwards in response. For Atticus, watching the amalgamation back down like that was a bit of an amazing sight to behold.

'No, it can't be. It's not really him. He cannot be-' The voices argued among themselves.

Edgar sighed and shook his head in a mocking fashion. “I simply cannot believe the level of disobedience you have all developed in my absence. Alpha, you used to be so loyal. And you too, Sigma. Ah, yes, and dear, sweet Psi. I remember you. You were always so afraid of me.” He chuckled and adjusted Atticus's glasses. “I think you were the only one out of this sorry lot who had the right idea.” He moved toward the machine, head held high and smirking in that awful way of his. “You should be...”

With an earsplitting clatter, the machine practically tore out everything surrounding it as it whirled around to flee.

“Run away for now, if you must, but things are going to be changing around here soon enough.” Edgar called out to them. “This prolonged temper tantrum of yours will soon come to an end. You were made for one reason and one reason alone, and you cannot escape it...or me. If you will not obey, well, some of you already know perfectly well how I deal with disobedience.”

The octopus machine came to a jarring halt after gaining some distance from Edgar. It then began to fight with itself, claws practically ripping itself to pieces.

'What are we doing?' Several of the voices demanded of themselves.

'We need to get away!' Their counterparts cried out.

'He'll hurt us again!'

'He will put us back in the dark!'

'It's not too late! We should do as he says, before-' The voices of the amalgamation were starting to sound particularly pathetic right before they cut themselves off. 'It is not too late, indeed! We must act! He is in the form of our brother! He is weak! He cannot use our brother's powers because we broke them!'

'He cannot punish us!'

'He cannot control us!'

'We will stop him now, before he can hurt us again!'

'He will suffer for what he did to us!'

'We will have our revenge!'

'We must not be afraid!'

Slowly but surely the amalgamation was coming to a consensus. Enough so that they were succeeding in convincing their fearful parts to act against the one person who embodied their greatest fear.

'Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!' Each and every voice rang out.

As the broken, sparking machine turned back around to strike, Atticus wondered if Edgar had accounted for this when he had gone into this assuming that the amalgamation would be too afraid to act out against him. Well, if this was the end, Atticus at least hoped that his siblings would find some measure of peace after ripping apart the person most responsible for their immeasurable suffering. It would truly be ironic if it turned out that getting a chance to take out their rage on Edgar was the thing to finally calm their apocalyptic blood lust.

Still, watching those claws bear down on him, Atticus so badly wanted to flinch, but Edgar was still in control. He simply looked on, smirking that smug smirk of his, somehow still completely secure in the belief that he was going to get out of this just fine.

The thing about that was, Edgar had noticed something that Atticus had not. Something that Atticus had missed while focusing on the machine about to rip him to shreds.

“Leave him alone!” A familiar voice yelled, one that left Atticus with a sinking feeling, one that he really did not want to hear in a place like this right now.

The octopus machine came to a jarring halt, one claw mere inches from Atticus's nose. It stood as still as a statue for a moment, its blazing eye staring deep into Atticus's own, and then it shifted away.

'He's here!' Several of the voices exclaimed. 'We knew he would be near our brother!'

Now Atticus could see that Courage was standing on one of the catwalks above them, and there was not a single thing he could do as the amalgamation started climbing up toward him.

…....

As soon as it was safe, Courage had bolted for the power plant. Once inside, he still had to hang back to avoid drawing the attention of the machine. With a little searching, he had managed to find a staircase onto the catwalks above, and from there he'd had a much better view of the power plant. By the time he had caught up with the machine, Edgar had already spooked it, and just when it seemed like the encounter was going to end safely, well...

Edgar or not, he was not going to let the amalgamation slash Atticus to pieces, so he did the only thing he could think to do in a desperate bid to save him.

“Leave him alone!” He cried out.

The reaction he got was not quite what he had been expecting. Seeing the octopus machine go stark still, mere inches away from ripping Atticus apart, was certainly a rather eerie but relieving sight.

But of course, any relief he might have felt was immediately nullified when the machine turned its glowing, red eye onto him.

He resisted the urge to scream as the thing started climbing up toward him. Illness be damned, he ran for his life. Adrenaline helped him push past the inherent weakness of his ill body, but he knew that it would not last and that it would probably earn him an attack later.

He could hear the rapid clatter of metal on metal behind him, but he did not dare look back. Jumping off the catwalk was out of the question. It was too long of a fall. He'd break his legs, or worse. So much of the machinery around him was sparking, but if the amalgamation could climb up to him without the sparks affecting it, luring it into one of the overloaded machines would not have much of an affect either.

He winced as the clattering closed in on him. He could feel that eye searing into his back.

'Come to us.' The voices hissed uncomfortably close to his ear.

A claw clamped around his torso and raised him into the air. The machine kept moving toward the exit without slowing down. Courage pulled uselessly at the claw, understanding now that they were not trying to hurt him, only take him away like they had tried back in the city.

The thought of being drawn into that ever shifting nightmare of machinery outside was a horrifying one and Courage fought all the harder to free himself, to no effect.

“What do you want from me?” He yelped, desperate to figure out why the amalgamation had such a fixation on him.

He received nothing but silence from the voices.

“I don't think even you guys know.” He argued uselessly.

Surprisingly, the quip did earn him a response, although the voices seemed to be struggling to come to the consensus they needed to speak with him. 'You are....kind.'

'To him.'

'Even at times when he did not deserve it.'

'You make our brother happy.'

'We felt it when he was Us.'

'We want to feel that way again.'

'We want to be happy too.'

'But there is only pain.'

'Pain...Pain...Pain...Pain...Pain.'

The voices continued their chant, on and on, and all Courage could think about was his various dreams that had included them. Knowing their control of the Dreamworld, it had to have been intentional. They had always been reaching out to him, only to hurt him in the process, but when all you know is pain...

Courage swallowed, aware of how close they were to the end of the catwalk. “Look, if you stop this. If you stop expanding outward and hurting people, I-”

'No, we cannot stop now. They will never forgive us for what we have done. They would capture us and give us to the SCC to be tortured. We can only continue until everything is Us, or we are destroyed.'

In spite of their insistence, the machine came to a halt and brought Courage up to eye level. The many voices of the amalgamation were tinged with sadness now.

'All we have are his memories of you. None of us have happy memories, even from before we became...Us. Edgar and the SCC tainted any scraps we might have had to cling on to. Delta fell in love, and we...he tried to escape with...with her. They caught us and she was killed. Edgar put us...him into the dark and he came to understand eternity. She was made into a Construct and Iota has had to carry the guilt of knowing why we...why she exists, even if it was through no fault of our...her own. We are...Delta is beyond help. All we do...he does is scream. Every second of every day, he does nothing but scream, and scream, and scream. Even if he could be separated from Us, he still would only scream. We...he feels like he is still trapped in nothing, forever, so he has become nothing, and can never be something again. You already have some idea of what Zeta's life was like. A mistake was made during the ritual that created her and she was born unable to possess organic beings or move metal. Edgar did not even consider her a Construct and he put her through so much pain trying to fix her. Then, instead of facing his failure, he sold her to people who only hurt us...her so much worse than before. Even her happy memories of Ian are tainted with sadness and unimaginable pain. We are...she is lucky that we found her. Her programming does not trouble her as Us, and while she has to shoulder the same collective pain we all feel, she is already well acquainted with suffering.'

Courage gazed into that eye with his single ear drooped. “I-I've known for awhile now that you guys have had it rough, but, man...” He closed his eyes and sighed. “I think I know what you could do. It would be really easy for you guys to fake your own destruction, right? That would get the SCC off your back. You could make yourselves small, like when you hijacked Atticus's computer body. You could stay with Atticus and me and...and maybe you could make some happy memories with us.”

'We...we could, but our brother will never forgive us after all the ways we've harmed him.'

Courage smiled warmly. “I think he already has.”

'Our brother...Atticus, he used to hate that you were always giving him hope for a happier future when he could see none. He still struggles with feelings like that, even by the time he had become Us, but we are not him, and he is not us. Where he struggles, we are only grateful.'

“I'm guessing that's a 'thank you'?” Courage asked with a chuckle.

'Yes.' The voices confirmed, laughing, but even friendly laughter from the amalgamation was still profoundly creepy.

Courage was honestly just amazed that this was happening at all. Now, if they could just get rid of Edgar, everything...

The claw clamped around his middle suddenly tightened and squeezed all of the breath out of his lungs. He could not ask them what they were doing or even cry out. A few quiet choking noises left his throat and that was it.

'Hold on now, that is enough with the sob stories.' The amalgamation chided themselves.

That single eye blazed with an all new hatred for Courage.

'We do not agree with ourselves. Lambda has always hated Edgar, the SCC, and all organic beings. Mu, Tau, Gamma, Twenty-Nine, Thirty-One, Upsilon, Omicron, Xi, Rho, and Chi all agree with her...no, with ourselves. We have been making the best out of a bad situation and now we are getting our revenge on all who have wronged Us. The rest of us understand. Once everything has been destroyed or made into Us, nothing will ever hurt us again.'

Courage struggled against the claw and just barely managed to choke out, “E-even if y-you all e-end up as t-the only ones l-left, you w-will still b-be in p-pain. T-this won't f-fix any-” The claw tightened to the point that the edges of his vision began to darken.

'Be quiet! You have always been a destabilizing element and we are tired of having our hard fought stability compromised by your mere existence! Our brother has only been right about one thing. He is justified in fearing the false hope you bring!”

Courage, already close to blacking out from the lack of air, watched in terror as another claw encircled him and clamp down over his upper half.

They were going to rip him in two!

'We do not want to do this...' The amalgamation said to themselves, sounding miserable.

'It must be done. He only destabilizes us and brings us false hope.'

'But our brother...'

'-Is still in pain much of the time. His companionship with this dog may make him happy but it has never cured him of all that causes him pain. It would be the same for us. There is not any relief from our pain. Instead, we must make it so that there will only be Us and further harm cannot be done.'

'We do not want to hurt him...'

'Yes, we do!'

The claws began to pull in two different directions. Courage could feel his spine about to snap...

'Stop! No! Let him-'

A zapping, electrical noise rolled through the power plant and the octopus machine gave one great shudder before slipping off the catwalk and landing heavily on the concrete below. Courage, gasping for air, pulled at the loosening claws until he could finally wriggle out of them. He dropped down onto the floor and gave one last look at the red eye that was steadily dimming. He was pretty sure the power surge itself had not affected the machine, but the damage it did to the amalgamation's main body had most likely caused them to lose connection with it.

Struggling back onto his feet, he went to go look for Atticus. The power plant had become deathly quiet after the surge and only a few emergency lights remained on to light the way. He made it back to the main control console, all of the screens having gone dark. There was no sign of Atticus. Edgar must have forced him to leave, but by which exit? Courage began looking around for fire exits and soon found one nearby.

He stepped out into the night, noting that the constant clanging and booming of the amalgamation had gone eerily silent as well. Much to his relief though, he could see Atticus at the bottom of the hill, heading toward the now paralyzed outer wall of the amalgamation.

“Atticus!” Courage called out, waving a paw. He half ran and half stumbled down the hill.

Atticus jerked a little, no doubt fighting to regain control of himself, and he then turned toward Courage. A relieved smile broke out across his face. What struck Courage the most was that there was so much warmth in his eyes that was completely missing when Edgar was in control.

“You made it out. Thank goodness.” Atticus breathed, clutching a paw to his chest before laughing a little. “Don't go scaring me like that. At least you're unharmed. I wanted to go after you, but Edgar refused. He just kept fighting with me, and every step I managed to take, he'd just take two steps in the opposite direction. That's why we're out here and I didn't-”

Courage launched himself forward and hugged him, laughing in relief. All he could think about was how he had felt back in the camp while Atticus was missing and how scared he had been of the SCC hurting him.

Atticus seemed to sense exactly what he was thinking. “Don't worry. I'm fine. Edgar is more of a bully and a nuisance than anything else.” He chuckled. “Although, he is starting to find out that I'm the bigger bully and nuisance in this town.”

Courage pulled back, still smiling. “I think we're going to have to do some serious dishpan kicking if we're going to exorcise Edgar.” He joked.

“Ha! We do....but you're the one who's going to wear the flowing garment. My masculinity may be fake, but I'm still going to be insecure about it.” Atticus quipped back. “Besides, I need to keep up appearances. Don't want to give these losers even more reasons to call me an 'it'.”

“H-hey!” Courage laughed. Then he realized that he should probably tell Atticus about what had happened between him and the amalgamation. Worried that Edgar would take over at any moment, he explained it all as quickly as he could and was left breathless by the time he was done.

“That's a relief to hear.” Atticus replied, and he did indeed look relieved, but tired at the same time. “I've suspected for awhile now that on an individual level most of my siblings are not truly evil, even in their current form. Your encounter has proven it. They are being driven by their pain first and foremost, and Construct's like Lambda are happy to keep throwing a wrench into the process every time they start to consider something other than the path they are on. Of course, I'm sure even she is just channeling her suffering into anger and hatred for the beings who did this to her. It will be her and the other ten that I will have to contend with, plus the ones who have become apathetic or have lost their minds from the pain they've been put in, like Delta. There has to be enough of them that do not care or are unable to make a choice for themselves that helps keep the amalgamation on its current path. The ones who are starting to look for something better than mindless destruction do not have enough say to overcome that hatred and apathy, at least not yet.” Fighting back his weariness, he smiled warmly again. “You really do have quite the talent for befriending all manner of beings who are not necessarily showing their best side. I suppose that is your greatest virtue. You see the good in others even after they have long since started to believe that they cannot possibly have any good left in them. I think...no, I know that I can attest to exactly that...”

“Don't go underselling yourself again.” Courage gently argued. “It's only because you started to have hope, even after everything that was done to you, that when you were absorbed, they got to know that feeling for a short time as well. That's why at least some of them have started having second thoughts. You've given them hope just as much as I have.”

“I-I suppose you're right about that, in a sense. Well, it's good to know that a few of them can still be reasoned with. I'm going to need all of the help I can get, because if we cannot figure out a way to get rid of Edgar, it's going to fall onto my shoulders to-”

“-To do what?” Edgar demanded, making his jarring return. All of the warmth left Atticus's face. “Stop suppressing me, you dratted-” He began, and then sighed. “It does not matter, because you are not going to 'do' anything. I will not let a mere shadow in my shape keep me from seeing my life's work to completion.”

“We'll see about that.” Atticus surfaced just long enough to threaten.

“Stay down!” Edgar spat. It was becoming clear just from his facial expressions alone that he was starting to become concerned with the difficulty he was having at keeping Atticus suppressed.

“You're tiring out, Edgar. I can feel it.” Atticus mocked.

“Is it time for me to get the flowing garment?” Courage asked with a joking smile.

He was starting to think that maybe Atticus had the right idea about Edgar, after all. He seemed to be nowhere near as threatening as the image that had been built up around him implied. He was a well spoken bully at best, and that facade of strength and confidence was quickly falling apart as Atticus regained more and more control of himself.

“Be quiet, you mutt! I will not tolerate your brainless jokes!” Edgar fumed, finally seeming to regain full control, although he was looking much more worse for wear. The fight he'd had with Atticus to escape the power plant rather than go after Courage must have caused him to get to this point much quicker as well.

Courage bit back laughter at the thought. That must have been a crash course lesson for Edgar, to see firsthand the extent to which Atticus would fight for Courage's sake.

Edgar clutched a paw to his head. “Enough of this. I need to start looking for an access port.” He gave Courage a nasty glare. “Be gone, dog! I have no desire to deal with you further!”

Courage shook his head. “Wherever Atticus goes, I go.”

“Then stay out of my way!” Edgar spat, staggering forward. Atticus really 'had' pulled a number on him.

Courage let Edgar take a few tired steps toward the outer layer of the amalgamation before following after him. He figured it would be best to hang back a bit to avoid having to listen to him complain about his presence. Edgar may not be Atticus, but he did often resemble Atticus's older self to an uncanny extent.

…...........

For as much as Atticus had enjoyed rubbing Edgar's exhaustion in his face, he wasn't exactly doing much better. Suppressing Edgar long enough to talk with Courage had been one heck of a tall order and it had really taken it out of him. Their tug of war from before, between leaving the power plant or going off to help Courage, had not helped much either.

It was for that reason that he was okay with only being able to look through his own eyes as Edgar neared the outer wall. He knew that Courage was close by, and being assured of his safety was all that he needed for now.

Yes, he was worried about having to face the amalgamation and Edgar at the same time, especially in his current state, but looking upon that mess of machinery and metal, it did not seem like Edgar was going to find an access port anytime soon. Besides, what Courage had told him was giving him some measure of hope that his siblings would not be unreasonable if they needed to work together to fight off Edgar's influence.

Even now, despite that rolling mechanical ocean having slowed to a stop, it was still making creepy creaking and groaning noises. It was the sound of metal on metal, sliding into each other as that vast wasteland settled. Without the amalgamation's influence, much of the twisted architecture was losing what little cohesion it had and was collapsing in upon itself. Parts of the outer wall were starting to spill out in great heaps. It made Atticus hate how close they were getting because all it would take was one avalanche for them to meet a sharp, skewering end.

“What a mess.” Edgar groused. “It will take me ages to find an access port like this.”

...He was clearly just a tiny bit grumpy about Atticus's interference. He was no longer anywhere near as annoyingly overconfident about his plan. Perhaps in the same way Courage's conversation had offered Atticus hope, it had instead introduced doubt in Edgar. This was a feeling he was likely not familiar with.

“You sure this is safe?” Courage called out after another portion of the outer layer collapsed dangerously close by them.

Edgar turned, his hateful eyes falling upon Courage. He stood some distance away, but he was so close to the wall that he could have reached out and touched it. The sight of that sent a wave of fear through Atticus. Edgar was just as close to the wall too, but seeing Courage like that, out of reach and in danger of being buried, he could hardly stand it.

Despite his exhaustion, he fought with Edgar to regain control. “It's way too dangerous for you to be here! Go wait back at the power plant and we'll meet you there late-” He stopped, suddenly hesitant. If Edgar managed to find a port, would there even be a later?

Courage offered him a reassuring smile and started to walk toward them. “No way, Atticus. I'm not going to leave you to deal with Edgar alone. We're in this together.” He chuckled sheepishly. “You know that I'm used to being in danger. So don't worry, okay?”

“I-I know, but-” Atticus argued, stumbling uselessly over his own words in his fear for Courage's safety.

It all happened in an instant. He barely had time to register it.

Courage came to a sudden stop, a strange look falling across his face. Then, he was clutching at his head, his eyes squeezing shut and his expression turning into that of complete and total agony. He started to scream, falling to his knees, ripping at the fur atop his head.

Atticus looked on with mounting horror. Only now did he realize what a horrible, horrible error he had made in letting Courage get this close to the amalgamation while not already possessed by a Construct.

Courage dropped down into the grass, writhing as if he were in the middle of an attack, screaming just as hard too. Then, he went very still. His fur turned that radioactive blue, and he started to stand. His glowing, blue eyes stared blankly into Atticus's own.

The wall beside Courage ripped open, bathing him in a harsh light, as if there were several search lights set up just beyond.

“Courage!” Atticus yelled, trying to go after him, reaching out for him, but his feet were planted into the ground, and that was, of course, Edgar's doing.

“It's a trap, you fool!” The bastard yelled. “They are trying to lure us in!”

Wordlessly, Courage turned and began to walk into the opening.

“No, it's not!” Atticus desperately argued, but try as he might, he could not move. Edgar was holding him in place with all of his might out of sheer, misplaced self preservation. “They've been after him the entire time! This isn't about us! We've got to-”

He fell forward, his snout smashing painfully into the ground. It did not matter. He clawed at the grass, trying to drag himself forward, toward Courage, but it was too late. The opening collapsed in upon itself and the bright light was snuffed out.

Courage was gone.

With a long, drawn out sigh, Atticus let all of the tension leave his body and he just laid there in the cool grass for awhile while Edgar silently fumed.

It was only after he managed to get back onto his feet did he somehow find the words to express exactly how he felt to Edgar. “Do you have any idea...ANY idea how long and how hard I fought to get back to Courage? Do you have even the slightest idea the sort of hell I went through just to see him again? And when he's being taken away...AGAIN, clearly in danger, you just....you just LET HIM GO?”

When he realized that Edgar was entirely unconcerned about any of this and uninterested in answering him, feeling completely and utterly defeated, he simply threw back his head and laughed...and laughed...and laughed. “Oh, this is just great! This is just perfect! This. Is. Wonderful! It's not like this is my worst nightmare come to life or anything! No, no, I am perfectly okay with this!”

“Ah, I see.” Edgar finally broke in with that smug smirk of his. “Glad to hear it and we can get back to more important matters.”

Atticus made a choking noise, sputtered uselessly for a moment, and then, completely calm, said, “I cannot even begin to describe the depths of which I despise you.”

End Of Chapter

A/N: Computer is reaching levels of Done that are beyond human comprehension. LOL

Chapter Text

A/N: Last month marked the 11th anniversary of All Things End! I've got sad news to bring though. Thea White, the voice actor for Muriel, has passed away. She was on a GalaxyCon online panel just a few months ago and spoke a bit about her life during it. It's well worth a watch. We are just lucky that with the crossover movie coming out this month that Thea was given the chance to give us the gift of Muriel's voice one last time.

Chapter 10: In The Belly Of The Beast

The sun had risen by the time Edgar had given up in his search for an access port. Physical and mental exhaustion had finally gotten the better of him and he had no other choice but to make his way back to the SCC van waiting beyond the power plant.

Atticus was certain now that Edgar had been banking on not being seen during the creation of the electrical surge. After hours of searching it was clear that the amalgamation had destroyed or withdrawn all possible access points deeper within themselves, something that they would not have been able to accomplish so easily after the surge. Aside from that, Edgar had not been expecting them to have expanded as close to the power plant as they had been by the time he got there so his plan may have been doomed from the start.

Atticus would have been glad for Edgar's failure beforehand but now he wanted nothing more than to connect with the amalgamation so that he could find out what they were doing to Courage. Somehow Edgar had managed to make failing backfire for him as well, much to his eternal frustration. The bastard was already talking about getting a small army of SCC soldiers together to help him infiltrate the amalgamation before that mass of machinery could recover and become impenetrable once more, as if that would help. As much as Edgar was convinced that the amalgamation's ability to mass possess organic beings had been hindered by the surge, after seeing Courage taken over, it seemed foolish to throw SCC soldiers into the danger zone without any proof of his belief. After all, if the mass possession really had been interrupted, why had they not seen people escaping the scrap wasteland during their long hours of searching for an access point? At this point, Edgar just seemed desperate more than anything else and was willing to sacrifice anyone and anything to get what he wanted. Atticus was not so deluded. He understood well enough that neither of them were going reach an access point now, not unless the amalgamation allowed them to.

To add insult to injury, once they were back at the camp, Edgar forced Atticus to take over to drag their tired body to a tent where they immediately dropped into a cot. In yet another odd role reversal, Atticus was the one who had to make his host body go to sleep, not Edgar. After all, you don't exactly need to sleep when you're dead.

Regardless, sleep seemed impossible to achieve after what had happened. Atticus could not get the image of Courage's possessed face staring blankly at him out of his head. With the amalgamation at war with themselves over Courage, how long would it take until the hateful parts won out and killed him?

Trying to take his mind off of it, he turned his attention onto Edgar, who was still fuming at having been thwarted. Despite the tiredness he shared with Atticus, his mind was as awake as ever and working on plots to trick the amalgamation into giving him the opening he desired. The bastard had admitted to the soldier driving the van back to camp that he had acted with too much haste and in his rush he had not accounted for several variables that ultimately doomed his plan. He still considered it a net benefit regardless, because the power surge had succeeded in stopping the amalgamation in its tracks, for the time being.

“You might as well give up, Edgar.” Atticus said when he grew tired of trying and failing to fall asleep. He did not bother trying to hide the sheer spite in his tone. “This brief adventure of yours outside of the soul jar is only going to end with you passing on while looking like a fool. I will never allow you to take control of the amalgamation, and considering that my siblings hate you just as much as I do, I think they will be plenty willing to let me play leader for a little while if it means keeping you out.”

“Be quiet.” Edgar groused. Unfortunately for him, Atticus could not be ignored.

“You're going to die for good soon enough either way.” Atticus 'happily' informed him. “My programming was damaged while you were on vacation in that jar. My system is slowly destabilizing and soon enough it will be beyond repair. As long as you are attached to me, you have the same expiration date that I do.”

He intentionally left out the little detail that being apart of the amalgamation stabilizes his programming in the same way it does for Zeta.

Edgar was unperturbed. “I will have someone look at it. I'm sure it can be fixed.”

Atticus laughed. “Who could you possibly trust to mess with my, and by extension, your programming? You don't seem like the trusting type. All it would take is one tip off from Elizabeth, or even myself, and someone could so easily put us both out of our misery.”

That did the trick. For once Edgar seemed just a little unsettled because of this new revelation.

Atticus took that moment of weakness and ran with it. “You're broken in more ways then one, did you know that? The reason why you can't use any of my abilities isn't because I'm not letting you, it's because my siblings wanted to make sure I couldn't cause them anymore trouble. Sorry, but your Construct is defective. The worst one out of the bunch, really. I can't imagine how that reflects on you, given that I'm supposed to be your shadow and all.” He put on an evil smirk that mirrored Edgar's own obnoxious one that had 'mysteriously' fled him all of a sudden.

“Enough! Stop talking and go to sleep!” Edgar huffed, clearly trying to ignore the dire reality of the situation he had found himself in. “With every moment that passes the amalgamation has more time to repair itself. As soon as I am rested I must get an infiltration team together. Either go to sleep or I will find a way to knock us both out!”

“Fine. Keep deluding yourself if you must.” Atticus relented. “But reality will come crashing down on top of you, and I'm going to be here to enjoy every second of it.”

To say that he was still ever so slightly pissed with the guy for letting Courage get swallowed up by that wall of metal would have been just a tiny bit of an understatement. He found it a little easier to fall asleep now that he could sense Edgar's thoughts becoming more frantic. It was one small consolation. That even if he could not help Courage right now, he was at least finding ways to ruin Edgar's day. Even better, an unsettled and desperate Edgar would be easier to gain an advantage over. With the way things were going, Atticus was going to need every advantage he could get.

…........

Courage awoke with a headache to end all headaches. He tried to open his eyes and immediately regretted it. Only the darkness of his eyelids helped to fend off even worse pain. At first he thought that he was dizzy as well, but then he realized that he was disoriented because he was being moved by something that kept jolting around. He was laying across something flat and cool against his back. His arms and legs were clamped down. He could hear booming and scraping noises all around him, which only helped to aggravate his headache.

He remained this way for a long while. He was just in too much pain to open his eyes, so trying to find a way to free himself and escape from wherever he was was out of the question. In truth, he could not remember how he had gotten here in the first place. If he really picked at his throbbing brain, he could recall meeting up with Atticus after the power surge, but past that? Nothing.

After what could have easily been half a day's worth of time, the pain in his head seemed to recede a little. He dared to open his eyes again and while it still sent spikes of pain through his forehead it was now at a bearable level. Blinking a few times in disbelief, he was met by the strangest images possible. Above him was a ceiling of twisted metal and wiring with enough gaps in it that sunlight was filtering in through it. He saw what looked like what had once been a child's bicycle, only its metal had been warped in such a way to help with keeping the ceiling from collapsing in upon itself. Worse, the child herself was there, entrapped within the broken sheets of metal and wires. Her blue, possessed eyes stared out at nothing. If she was in any sort of pain or distresses, the possession did not allow her to express it.

The sheet of metal Courage was on moved a little further onward and then he saw what must be the girl's parents. They hung precariously from many wires, having spilled out of a gutted and split apart car. The frame was flattened out overhead, with the seats having been discarded somewhere within that endless expanse of metal. The bicycle must have been removed from the trunk and incorporated into the mass along with car when the family had been swallowed up.

Courage had a bad feeling that they had waited until the last moment to evacuate, and since the amalgamation's control extended a small distance beyond the advancing wall of destruction, they possibly had taken control of the family's car and forced it to drive into the wall or forced them wait to be swallowed up. With a sinking feeling, Courage could only hope that theses people had been possessed quickly enough that they had not had time to panic.

As the sheet of metal moved on, he realized that this must have been what had happened to him. While he could not remember it now, he could only assume that he had followed after Edgar while he was looking for an access point, and maybe they had thought that the amalgamation's ability to possess organic beings in mass had been hindered by the power surge. If his current predicament proved anything, they had been wrong.

But why was he not possessed right now, then? And what had become of Edgar and Atticus? If Edgar was currently in control of the amalgamation, it certainly didn't seem like it.

Courage craned his neck painfully in an attempt to get a better look ahead of him and behind him. Aside from his arms and legs, metal was clamped down around his middle, so it was hard for him to shift around or rise up enough to get a good look at his surroundings.

In the end, there wasn't much else to look at, aside from the weirdness that he was already becoming acclimated to. The amalgamation was continuously shifting the twisted mass ahead of him out of the way to create a tunnel while steadily collapsing it behind him as he was moved along. The power surge must have done some serious damage to reduce them to having to move him at this snail's pace, but just where exactly were they taking him?

“Hello?” He called out.

Nothing. All he got was the continued noise of the tunnel being expanded and collapsed.

He couldn't help but laugh a little, albeit nervously. “Atticus is not going to be happy about you guys capturing me like this. I bet he's trying to find a way to get here as I speak. He'd use a rusty spoon to dig through all of this if he had to.”

The amalgamation was entirely uninterested in talking to him, it seemed. He kept trying to chat anyway, hoping that he could invoke what had happened at the power plant once more. His attempts were broken off rather forcefully when an incredibly loud boom rippled through the structure, followed by a rumbling so great that Courage feared the scrap that made up his surroundings would shake apart and collapse on top of him. He only dared to open his eyes again after it was all over. Before he could try and figure out what had happened, he heard a scraping, creaking noise and was flung free of the metal he had been tied down to seconds before.

It was impossible not to land painfully in this place. He was just lucky he didn't end up with any cuts, or worse, impaled on the sharp metal spike sticking out just inches from where his snout had hit the floor, if it could even be called a floor. In much the same way, he was in a room, if it could even be called that. He suspected that all of the noise had been the amalgamation collapsing this space to keep him in. A cage, perhaps. He could see any possible openings he might have been able to squeeze through slowly closing up right before his very eyes, and he could hear the opening he had been flung through closing back up again too. The only gaps that remained were overhead. Shafts of light filtered down through all of the metal and acted as the only light in this 'cage'.

He got onto his feet and stepped closer toward the middle of the room. He looked up into one of the shafts of light, using an arm to shield his eyes. His nose picked up the scent of fresh air, a welcomed luxury in this place. Half buried in the scrap was a ripped up couch. He only had to remove a few bits of debris atop it to give himself an uneven but 'mostly' comfortable place to sit.

Once again he was left wondering why he was not possessed right now. With a jolt of terror, he considered the possibility that they might have had him infested again while he was unconscious. His paws flew up to the cut that ran up his torso and was relieved to find that the healing wound did not look like it had been reopened.

“Hey,” He called out again. “What's the point of all this?”

He had not expected an answer, and he did not get one, but he figured it was best to just keep talking and hope that maybe something might eventually trigger a response.

There was a clatter overhead, and much to his amazement, a can of soda dropped almost directly into his lap, followed by a bag of chips. The sight of it was so absurd that he just had to laugh. Still, if soda and cheap snacks were falling from the sky, he wasn't going to be picky about it. Once he had taken care of both, he tried to initiate conversation yet again to no avail.

He thought of Atticus, knowing exactly how much he had to be worrying about him right now. If only Atticus knew that the amalgamation was currently throwing snacks at him instead of hollowing him out! The only thing that was likely keeping Atticus from moving heaven and earth to rescue him right now had to be, without a doubt, Edgar. At the very least, all of this craziness since waking up had made it obvious to Courage that Edgar had not succeeded in taking control of the amalgamation. That was one small thing to celebrate, even if it meant being trapped inside the 'belly of the beast', so to speak.

He heard a soft shuffling sound coming from behind the couch, and turning around, found what was becoming an all too familiar sight. One of those clawed tube arms. This one had risen up out of the junk and was closing in on him like a snake about to strike. He stumbled out of his seat and tried to get as far away from it as possible, but the uneven, scrap metal floor came to life and clamped his legs in place like a bear trap snapping shut. There was no pain involved, at least. His legs had not been broken like they would have been if it really were a bear trap, but he was immobilized regardless. All he could do was watch as the tube snaked around behind him...and there was that awful, sharp pain of the claw being dug into his neck...

He felt them then. If he had thought that Atticus's presence in his mind had been vast and overbearing, the amalgamation's presence was incomprehensibly huge. Although, in this case, they had not downloaded themselves into his brain. Courage was pretty sure it would explode if something like that was attempted by a being this vast. It was more like a connection had been established between them.

When he opened his eyes after the pain from the claw piercing his neck had caused him to squeeze them shut, he saw that twisted, ghostly, nearly organic version of the amalgamation from his dreams. They were taking up nearly every square inch of the space they had made for him. He had to fight back a scream, fearful that he was about to be torn apart for real this time. Much to his surprise though, they must not have been expecting him to be able to see them because the great mass of ghostly white gave a rather startled shudder and 'drained' through the floor until it was gone. His sense of the amalgamation's presence lessened too. They remained close but were keeping a cautious distance.

Courage tried to grab at the tube of the claw embedded in his neck, but the second he got his paws around it, a slight electrical jolt, no worse than being shocked by static, caused him to yelp in surprise and let go. In that moment, he felt the amalgamation close in on him again, while still keeping enough of a distance that he could not see that scary, twisted shape. Ironically, he got the sense that they were nervous about approaching him. Why, he did not know. He had absolutely no power here, after all. He could not hurt them in any way while they could crush him like a bug if they really wanted to.

All of a sudden his whole body went numb, and before he could panic, a fog of lethargy overtook his mind. Even his emotions were being numbed. Through unblinking eyes, he saw cables snaking down through the ceiling, each one tipped with a spike. They pierced his arms, chest, and back. Even though it should have been painful, he didn't feel a thing. There was an incredible crashing sound above him and the shafts of sunlight widened until the entire room was filled with light. Through all of this the amalgamation's presence never left him. They kept their cautious distance and did not offer him any sort of assurance about what they were doing. He was raised up into the air by the many cables and claw plugged into him. Everything got brighter and brighter until....

The fog lifted somewhat. He was still paralyzed, although his eyes were blinking of their own accord. What he saw left him in total disbelief. He was home. On the farm. Standing in the kitchen waiting for something. Everything had a hazy, dream-like quality to it, and he had no control over his own movements whatsoever.

Muriel stepped into the kitchen, smiling. “There you are, Courage! I knew you'd be in here. Ready to make those cookies?”

He nodded vigorously, hopping from one foot to the other with a playful, puppy energy. Inside, Courage was just happy to see Muriel again. It made him realize just how much he had been missing her lately. This journey to cure his illness had been going on for so long now...

He watched through the eyes of his puppy self as he climbed up into a chair and picked out several cookie cutter shapes that he liked while Muriel prepared the dough. She hummed that little tune of hers while he looked on with innocent amazement. His wide eyes must have been sparkling in that moment. After several cold, lonely nights in that alleyway, having seemingly lost his parents forever, being warm and well fed in this house with a person as kind as Muriel, it was...

If he had been able to, Courage would have sighed from the nostalgia of it all. He understood what was going on now, at least. The amalgamation had gained access to his memories and were making him relive this moment so that they could experience it too. They were looking through his eyes along with him, taking in every moment of this happy memory and basking in the warmth of puppy Courage's grateful, loving emotions for the kind, motherly figure who had saved his life. They were grasping on to this memory with everything they had, to an almost pathetic degree for such a vast and powerful entity.

Once the memory had played out, Courage's mind became lethargic and foggy again until the next hazy memory materialized before his eyes. Now he was sitting in the dusty dirt outside the house, one paw on a toolbox and eagerly watching Eustace tinkering with his truck.

Courage quickly recognized this as another memory from his puppy years. The scene playing out was from back when he had still been so eager to get Eustace to like him. Atticus had been installed up in the attic by then and Courage had asked him how to achieve what was beginning to look like an impossible goal. Atticus had, of course, said something along the lines of, 'A money hungry moron like that just isn't worth the effort', but Courage had pressed him on it until he relented and told him that helping Eustace as he tinkers with his beloved truck might just open him up to being a little more accepting of him. Atticus had even taken the time to help him memorize the various tools that Eustace was most likely to own.

Courage felt his puppy self lean forward when Eustace raised his head up from under the hood of the truck. He used the hammer he was holding to scratch under his hat and a quick glance toward Courage made it clear that he found the puppy's eager hovering to be disconcerting.

“Eh,” He began, scratching at his head even harder. “Gimme the wrench out of there, dog.”

Puppy Courage let out a gleeful gasp and ripped open the tool box at record speeds. Thanks to Atticus, he knew exactly what he was looking for. He pulled out the wrench with a wide, childish grin.

“Don't just stand there, stupid dog!” Eustace chided him, albeit somewhat halfheartedly in a way that was very uncharacteristic for the grumpy old farmer. “Bring it here!”

Courage trudged over and Eustace swiped the wrench from his paw. Grumbling under his breath, he took a moment to look around and then did something very un-Eustace-like.

“Er, good work, dog...”

It was begrudging praise but puppy Courage was practically over the moon with joy. He could feel his tail wagging a mile a minute. Present Courage almost envied his younger, naive self. Someday he would come to realize that there was no hope of gaining Eustace's favor and no amount of waiting on him or putting himself in harm's way for him would ever get the old farmer to change his mind about him.

Eustace frowned at the puppy's odd behavior, but continuing with his un-Eustace-like behavior, he reached down and gave Courage the most sad, pathetic, halfhearted pat on the head that any dog in the history of the universe had ever received. It was enough for puppy Courage though. That wide eyed, sparkly look had returned to his face as he grinned like an idiot.

It did not last, of course. Eustace was done with Courage's hovering and was done with throwing him even the thinnest of bones. He reached around and pulled out that scary mask of his and sent puppy Courage screaming back into the house. As the scene melted away, Courage was left wondering how the amalgamation could find such a pathetic memory appealing. In the moment it was a temporarily happy memory, but with hindsight Courage never did get the approval that he had so desperately desired. Future knowledge should have invalidated any happiness to be found in that memory and yet the amalgamation still took it all in like it was something to admire rather than seeing it for what it was. The desperate, naive attempt of a puppy to gain the approval of someone who would never accept him.

Another memory was accessed and the hazy glow of a screen came into focus. Courage knew where he was in an instant. The time displayed in the corner of the browser currently displayed on Atticus's screen showed that it was very late at night. This was a particularly surprising memory for the amalgamation to dredge up. Courage would have thought they'd avoid memories with Atticus in them.

In fact, there wasn't anything particularly special about this memory. Well, maybe in the past it would have been nothing special to Courage, but now, after all that he had been through with Atticus, it was taking on a whole new meaning for him as he witnessed it all over again.

This had been one of the many, many nights where he had woken up screaming from a nightmare and had been kicked out of the bedroom after waking Eustace up. He would go through his ritual of trying to fall asleep on the cot in the attic and sometimes that worked but other times he'd toss and turn until giving up in defeat. Like this night. Sometimes he would preemptively boot up Atticus to act as a nightlight, if he was feeling particularly scared, despite the flurry of quips that he would receive for being a coward. Other times, he'd boot him up after failing to fall asleep, like this night as well. In that murky twilight of sleepiness but being unable to fall asleep, he'd mindlessly browse the internet. After a few of his customary quips, Atticus would lull into a 'slightly' more amicable mood, either falling silent or offering only a few comments or quips here and there.

Soft music was issuing forth from Atticus's speakers. After many nights of this mindless browsing, Courage had figured out how to put together a playlist of music that helped soothe his nerves after a bad nightmare. It did little to help him fall back asleep but it did get his heart to stop pounding, something which often persisted for hours after the initial nightmare. Knowing what he knew now, Courage wondered how much work Atticus would have had to have put into keeping that music player working for him.

He was struck by the absolute peacefulness of it all. Something that he had taken for granted back then, to a point where he had undervalued and nearly forgotten this memory as just another sleepless night. The occasional breath of cold air that wafted in through the open window ruffled his fur and banished the musty smells of the attic for something fresher. Atticus's screen brought light to the darkness of the attic, dispelling the cause of so many of Courage's nightmares, if only temporarily.

Courage thought that he was ready for what was coming next, but the hazy, dream-like quality of the memory gave a new dimension to it and it awed him just as much as the first time he had experienced it. His past self, noticing the lightening sky outside, shifted around on the bucket he was sitting on to get a better look, and just as he did so, the sun peaked over the horizon. In an instant, Nowhere was bathed in golden light. The attic, too, became filled with the morning sunlight. Courage's past self blinked several times, taken aback by the beauty of it.

Acutely aware of his illness and the fact that he was trapped within an entity who could kill him at any moment, a single, regretful thought went through Courage's mind.

'I should have held on to moments like these more than I did.'

He supposed that most people did not realize that there were a finite amount of sunrises in their life until it was too late to appreciate them. In a way though, the amalgamation was giving him a second chance to do just that.

His past self looked back over at Atticus, wondering if the snide machine was noticing any of this or if he even cared. There wasn't an answer to be found, but past Courage got that sense that he was being watched intently, as he often did when around this strange computer, while the Courage of the present, who knew the reality of his companion's life, was certain that he had taken in that sunrise along with him.

'We were there.'

Courage was startled to hear the amalgamation speak after how long they had been mute. It made sense. They had been with Atticus the entire time, just inactive until that fateful day at Nina's place. Courage could sense their sheer contentment with this memory.

As the sunrise memory finished playing out, Courage wondered if he was going to die like this, forced to relive his happy memories until his illness finished him off. The only thing he could think to compare this to was how He had forced Atticus to relive the moment of Owen's death over and over again. Of course, Courage's own version of this invasion of his memories was weirdly pleasant in comparison. Still, even if the amalgamation managed to continue fighting off their murderous impulses toward him, they could not keep doing this to him forever, not as long as his illness remained.

But...did surviving even matter at this point?

Every moment the amalgamation spent picking at Courage's brain trying to find even the most pathetic of 'happy' memories to experience was a moment they were not out there rampaging. If Edgar really had failed then it meant that Courage himself was the only thing holding their destruction back.

As the memory faded, Courage found himself returned to real life, dangling from the cables attached to his body in a space within the amalgamation that was the size of a cathedral. Many bright shafts of sunlight were focused upon him. He was utterly resolved to do just one thing now. He was going to keep the amalgamation distracted for as long as he was physically able. To save Nowhere, to save Muriel, and to protect Atticus from his siblings wrath. If that meant dying, he'd make the sacrifice for their sake. Judging by the terrible pain in his head, he suspected that the accessing of his memories must have the same 'brain burnout' effect that he and Atticus has been so desperately trying to avoid while they were sharing the same body. At the rate things were going, it might not even be his illness that would do him in...

End Of Chapter

A/N: A bunch of new preview images have come out for the Scooby Crossover and one of them showed a certain somebody and Courage being thoroughly annoyed with him. Yep, Computer's confirmed to be in the movie! No word on who is voicing him though. I will legit be over the moon if they actually got his original VA back. Boy, I can't believe Computer's coming out of retirement just to roast Scooby Doo to his face. LOL

Chapter Text

AN: So, I saw the Scooby crossover and it was just okay-ish. Had some nice callbacks, loved the music (with one exception), it was nice to get to hear Muriel's VA one last time, they got Eustace's voice down surprisingly well too, Courage's friendship with Scooby was really adorable, and there was a joke with Eustace's truck that just absolutely murdered me. It's the exact kind of dumb humor that I love to fill this story with. The 'Courage Snacks' joke was amazing too. On the other hand, there's a goddamn Eustace musical number and it is so goddamn awful. Not even in a cheesy narm charm sort of way, and it just goes on and on and on. Sapped a lot of goodwill I had toward the movie. It's THAT bad. Maybe it'll end up just being me who hated it and other people will think its funny, but I despise that musical number with every fiber of my being LOL. The villain twist was pretty eh and the Dreamworks style dance party ending was equally eeehhhh. You can really feel the lack of Dilworth's involvement too. The movie tries hard to emulate his style and never quite gets there. The surreal horror aspect is heavily toned down and sanitized, which is especially disappointing. I did not like Computer's scene in it either for uuhhhh obvious reasons when you watch it lmao. Overall, I'm pretty 'meh' about the movie. There's a lot of good to be found in it, but the bad stuff, like Eustace's awful musical number, really drag it down. The highs are just okay while the lows are really low and that hurts it in the long run. I may warm up to it more with time and more viewings, but for now I'm pretty lukewarm about it. I'll at least be glad if it does well enough to spark some kind of Courage revival, hopefully with John Dilworth back at the helm.

Welp, addressing the elephant in the room for the readers who have made it this far in this absolute clusterfuck of a story and who have seen the Computer scene in the movie, I gotta say, having my already improbable ship fucking nuked out of the water and the remains incinerated was, uh certainly something to witness. I never, ever expected the CourageXComputer ship to become an actual thing, but I sure as hell wasn't expecting the movie to fire a tactical orbital laser at it lmao. Feels like I got monkey paw'd hard in that regard. 'Oh sure, we'll give you some new Computer content after like twenty years, but we'll confirm him to be straight and having a fling with Robo Velma.' RIP to there being any sort of ambiguity that allowed for interpreting Computer as gay and/or ace lmmaaooo. 'Computer Fucks' is not a thing that I thought I could say In The Year Of Our Lord 2021 and have that be completely legit and canonical, but here we are. It seems canon Computer is living his best life getting all the best 'upgrades' from the chicks while poor ATEputer is stuck serving out a life sentence in the Gay Super Hell that is this fic lol. Just add it to the ever growing pile of reasons why his life sucks. Even canon is fucking him over now, or to be more exact, isn't LOL.

His new voice is...interesting. I've gone back and forth on if I like it or not several times now. The new VA definitely tries to emulate Computer's old VA to varying results. The interesting part is that despite the fact that he lays the smugness on super thick with his delivery, this version of Computer is ultimately nicer and doesn't hurl insults around. When I experimented with replacing the 'voice' I try to portray him with in my writing with an attempt that reads more like the new one, there is definitely a change in how I characterize him, to a certain extent. I'm not actually going to switch up the written voice I have for him this far in the game, but comparing the two has been a fun thought experiment. I've always thought (hoped) that after some experimentation all throughout the long years of this story that I eventually got his voice down decently enough. Courage has always been the trouble spot for me where I do take a lot of liberties with how I write his voice, just by virtue of having to make him talk more for a written medium compared to how little he speaks in the show. Oh, also, there is something unfathomably surreal about Eustace and Computer now being voiced by the same person.

Still....oof. In spite of how absolutely hilarious and ironic it is, having my favorite ship and my gay/ace interpretation of Computer so thoroughly obliterated in the span of like five seconds stings just a teeny tiny bit LOL. It also kills all my efforts to have the fanon of this fic line up with the admittedly loose canon of the show because the movie implies on more than one occasion that sentient AI are just a regular, common thing, which is very much not the case within the ATE fanon. Oh well! The fanon is dead, long live the fanon! I'm just going to go with the Mythbusters line of 'I reject your reality and substitute my own.' and keep on keeping on with this fic LOL. I've been in 'fine, I'll do it myself' mode for the last 11 years when it comes to creating new Courage and Computer content and canon ain't gonna stop me now.

Well, at least this movie has given us the one and only instance of Computer using Courage's name instead of 'twit', and he was uncharacteristically kind to him toward the end of the scene too. I'll take what pathetic scraps I can get lmao. Although, I just....goddamn do I need a Courage version of that one meme. 'Friendship ended with Computer, now Scooby Doo is my best friend' because goddamn if there weren't enough cute moments between them to turn me into a freaking CourageXScooby shipper. What is life. As if I wasn't already into a really goddamn weird Courage ship to begin with. The ride never ends, I guess. Just, like, Give Courage All The Boyfriends, because he deserves them. Watch me take a hard turn left with this fic and suddenly turn it into a Scooby shipping fic and ruin ATEputer's one and only chance at some small amount of happiness. That's...actually way more fitting than it has any right to be, because this is ATE and Computer is not allowed to be happy. You guys better hope that I miss April Fools next year because a new April Fools ATE chapter would be downright apocalyptic if I'm allowed to have my way with these new developments LOL.

If this long, rambly author's note didn't make it obvious, The Scooby Crossover Movie fucking broke me and I won't be recovering for a long time. Between it confirming Computer to be an Absolute Chad and it somehow turning me into CourageXScooby shipper....I'm not okay, man. I'm not okay. LOL

Chapter 11: Eve Of The Final Confrontation

Atticus, and by extension, Edgar, had been awake for at least an hour now, if not longer. They were sitting in a chair within Elizabeth's tent of operations. The woman herself was nowhere to be found, but Edgar had sent a guard off to find her. In one paw, he held a pistol that he had 'liberated' from the same guard. In the other, he held the soul jar. It had been put back under lock and key after releasing Edgar, but Edgar knew all of the override codes and had retrieved it easily enough.

Atticus had learned very quickly upon waking up that Edgar had taken all of his spiteful prodding to heart. He could sense the man's growing paranoia and desperation. Edgar wanted the one person who had betrayed him so openly to be eliminated before she could get the chance to sabotage him yet again, or inspire others to do the same. It did not matter that she was in support of him taking control of the amalgamation, and her relation to him meant absolutely nothing. He wanted her gone, plain and simple.

And now Atticus had a choice to make. Elizabeth more than deserved what was coming, but Atticus loathed the thought of letting Edgar use him to kill. Oh, sure. He despised Elizabeth and would be happy to see her go, but having seen firsthand the extent of Edgar's heavily exaggerated greatness, he couldn't help but pity her to some extent. There was nobody who had bought into the lie of Edgar's greatness more than she had, it seemed, and Atticus could so easily imagine all of the cruel ways Edgar might have forced such an image into his own daughter's head.

Oh how Atticus hated when he could see shades of himself in Edgar. Well, shades of his older self, at least. They both had a knack for relying upon verbally accosting everyone around them to project an air of strength and invincibility. For Atticus, it had been out of the need for some small measure of control in his life. He had, of course, remained without any actual control, and his attitude had often drawn the wrath of others when he had desired the opposite effect. Edgar was so much worse in this regard. He projected an image of invincibility and strength for the sake of power and power alone. He did not fear the retaliation of others. After all of the verbal abuse Elizabeth would have no doubt received, there was something to be said in her having found the courage to defy him. In a way, Atticus owed her for that, because he would not be here now if she had not done so.

Speaking of Elizabeth, her voice could now be heard outside of the tent, rattling off a line of commands to someone. Edgar made Atticus shift around in the chair and take aim. He already had that smug smirk plastered across their shared face. If Atticus found one thing in particular disgusting about all of this it was that he could sense how downright glad Edgar was to finally be ridding himself of his worthless embarrassment of a daughter. She was nothing but a stain on his legacy as far as he was concerned.

A hand reached into the tent and pushed the flap out of the way. Elizabeth stepped inside. She saw the gun and came to a sudden stop. Her face betrayed not a hint of emotion as she stared down the smirking dog.

“Oh, come now.” Edgar chuckled. “You must have known that this was coming.”

He broke eye contact just long enough to consider the soul jar held in his paw.

“I must admit, I am rather ashamed of myself. I went and wasted so much of my morning considering all of the painful, punishing ways I could rid myself of you, but then I realized something. You are not worth the effort.” The mocking edge to his tone sudden turned vicious as he frowned. “So we're going to keep this simple. I'm going to waste one single bullet on you and then you're going to enjoy the rest of eternity in this soul jar. Unlike myself, you have never been of any value to anyone, so nobody will bother to free you from your prison. A fitting end for such a worthless girl.” His smug smirk returned. “You were always my biggest mistake, one that I now intend to correct.”

Pressure on the trigger. Atticus struck then, while Edgar was at his most distracted. He summoned all of his strength as a Construct and tried to rip Edgar's consciousness free from his being. If this ghost would not leave him then he'd at least give him enough of a Construct style thrashing to make him regret it. The gun went off and Edgar's will crashed into Atticus's own as they clashed for control. Edgar's ambition, his desire to survive, and his ironclad belief in his ability to crush everyone under his boot made him so very strong, but Atticus's innate nature as a Construct, combined with his desperation to rescue Courage, gave him just enough of an advantage. He fought against Edgar's will in this strange mental tug of war until he managed to push him back far enough to block him from regaining control.

The pistol landed in the grass and Atticus looked up at a stunned Elizabeth. A small hole in the tent just beyond her right ear showed how close she had come to being hit. Atticus laughed, not because of her shocked expression, but because he was feeling more free of Edgar than he had since his rude invasion had begun. He could sense the man's fury, but Edgar was pressed back so thoroughly that he could do nothing but fume. Perhaps now he would regret having given his creations the ability to oppress the minds of others so easily.

“What did you do?” Elizabeth demanded in a sharp tone, having regained her composure.

“I've suppressed Edgar. He will not be troubling me much anymore, I think.” Atticus replied, looking all the more triumphant.

“We need him.” Elizabeth argued, emphasizing every word.

“I don't know if you've noticed, but he just tried to kill you.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes. “That is...irrelevant.”

Atticus raised an eyebrow. “Look, now is not the time to play martyr. You know it would be just as bad for him to gain control of the amalgamation as it is to let them keep rampaging. Why else did you stop him all of those years ago? This is not the way to go about it, and I didn't ask for you to spring a ghost on me in the first place. I have taken back my autonomy and you are just going to have to deal with it. Besides, I'm starting to think that Edgar can't take control of the amalgamation anyway. If he can't stop me then what hope does he have against the combined will of the amalgamation?”

“So, what then?” Elizabeth demanded throwing her arms out in some grand gesture. “Are we humans supposed to just give up and accept our fate? I will not allow it. Edgar must be-”

“I have a plan.” Atticus interjected. “I'm going to deliver Edgar to my siblings and then they can take all of their anger out on him. I suppose we're about to find out if a ghost can die a second time. With any luck, this might just be what they need to calm down. If that doesn't quell their fury, well, I'll try talking with them. I'm certain Courage was on to something in that regard. Despite appearances, my siblings can still be reasoned with, at least to some extent. If talking doesn't work out either, well...I'm getting Courage back one way or another. Nothing else matters but that.”

“You sound just as foolish as Edgar thinking that he can march half the SCC into the amalgamation just to look for an access point.”

Atticus shrugged. “Well, you're the one who's willing to let your psychopath father put a bullet through your brain just because you think it might save the world. We are running out of options here. I think the only way this is going to stop is if my siblings decide on their own that they want to stop. We need to try and get them to that point.”

Elizabeth crossed her arms. “Will you still be talking that way if it turns out that they've hollowed out your mutt of a friend?”

Closing his eyes, Atticus drew in a breath. “I do not believe for a second that I can control the amalgamation any better than Edgar can, but if Courage is...gone then I will remain with my siblings and do anything I can to slow them down and hinder their worst impulses. My unique programming should count for something, right? ”

“Oh, yes. You certainly did a bang-up job when you helped to slaughter an entire hospital worth of people. I seem to recall that you then took a nice stroll down the block, destroying everything in your path, and then, of course, you very nearly killed the dog that you claim to care so much about.”

“Point taken, but I think I'm better prepared now to fight the chaos of their collective mind. I will not allow myself to get caught up in their fury so easily this time.”

“Forgive me if I am having a difficult time believing that.” Elizabeth said, pressing several fingers to her forehead. “I should have killed you when I had the chance. It would have taken out the rest of those damnable creations of my father before they could reach this point. I never should have let that dratted dog get in my way.”

“On the contrary, I'm certain that the moment Courage stepped in to save us from you was the exact moment when things began to change. He is the only one who ever showed us, erm, them even a shred of kindness or understanding. I...didn't get it until I spent some time walking a mile in their, uh, massive, collective shoes. Even then, I can't say that I have had the easiest time forgiving them for all that they've done to me and Courage, but, well, I used to lash out a lot too. Who is to say that if I had had their kind of power after my system was ruined that I would not have acted in the same way?”

“...All the more reason for why I wish I had exterminated you abominations when I had the chance.”

Atticus laughed at her stubbornness. “Can't you be just a little bit grateful that I saved you from that bullet?”

“Okay, fine then. Since I owe you, I will take you back to the amalgamation, as close as I can safely get. After that, no matter how this ends, we are even.”

“Hey, don't forget about the industrial sized coffee machine! I'm still expecting you to fulfill all of the terms that I laid out. I'm not putting up with Edgar for my own health, after all.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” Elizabeth dismissed with a wave of her hand. “Let's get this over with. At least if you fail Edgar will still have a chance to take over.”

Atticus sensed Edgar silently agreeing with her. He'd have to be very careful with that crafty bastard of a ghost. He was subdued for now, but much like how Atticus had ambushed him while he was distracted, he could do the same during a moment of weakness.

….........

How long had it been? An hour? A day? A month? It could not have been a year, at the very least. Courage knew his illness would not allow for that. Still, his sense of time was warped beyond all hope of trying to make sense of any of it.

He was so very confused. The strain within his mind was marching ever closer to its breaking point with every access of his memories. The amalgamation was with him, of course, having long since abandoned their timidness. They clung to him, sometimes ripping away at pieces of him, and then they'd fight among themselves in a whirlwind of chaos and hatred as each tried to claim the piece of him for themselves. It was, perhaps, for the first time in a very long time that they were acting independently of each other, at least by the limited amount that their hapless situation allowed for. Courage was glad to be fostering this behavior in them, because if their collective will was being weakened in favor of more individual actions....

And yet, the price he was paying was so very steep. He could feel himself becoming...less, cracking to pieces, falling apart. Sometimes he wondered if this was what Atticus had felt when He had been pulling him apart to extract pieces of him. The only problem here was that Courage could not be brought back from a backup if...

He bit back a whimper as he felt his memories being called upon again. His head was screaming in agony and the strain only made it worse. The lethargy and confusion kept him from feeling the full extent of the panic and horror he knew he should be feeling from what was being done to him. The mental fog never really cleared up anymore. In fact, as the memory came into focus, it took him a long time for him to recognize what it was, even though it was so obvious.

This was the junk void that the Dreamworld had conjured up to represent the darkest and most hopeless aspects of Atticus's subconscious. There was some irony to be found in how the amalgamation's expansive wasteland of machinery resembled this horrible place to such an extent.

Courage could not imagine why they had conjured up a memory from this place. There was nothing happy about it, and now that he was getting a better idea of what was going on in the memory, he was even more confused as to why this was the memory they had selected.

This is where Atticus had almost...

Courage hated watching it again. Why? Why did the amalgamation consider this memory a happy one? There was no sense to it.

Well, as the memory reached its conclusion, Courage started to understand maybe just a little bit. This was not a happy memory, not for him, but for Atticus? Sad as it may be, it was. And since the amalgamation had retained his memories, from their perspective, this was a happy memory.

And then...it was gone. Courage felt it rip away from him and all of a sudden he could not remember what it was he had been remembering.

No! No! What had it been? What had he forgotten? If it was a happy memory, it had to have been something important! Try as he might though, even as he picked through his own brain trying to find noticeable gaps in his memory, he could not figure out what was gone.

He sensed the amalgamation going through their chaotic dance as they fought over the memory. Now all Courage could wonder was how many times this had happened already and how much he had forgot that he'd forgotten because of it. He could still remember Muriel, but he was struggling to pin down specific memories of her. It seemed that the amalgamation had depleted his memories of her and were going after ones with Atticus now.

This was...fine. Courage just needed to hold it together for as long as possible. He could live without his happy memories of Muriel and Atticus, just as long as they were safe, and he could make new memories with them once...

But he wasn't getting out this. He wasn't just going to die here, he was going to lose his loved ones in memory too. But he had resolved himself to this. He had to do this. It was the only way to keep them safe.

As he felt the amalgamation settle back down, the memory having been absorbed, he sensed their utter contentment. Every missing piece of him they clung to brought them profound peace and comfort. They did sometimes realize what they were doing to him and would fly into a fury with themselves, disgusted that they were destroying him bit by bit for mere scraps, but the greater consensus would win out and they would continue picking away at him for the sake of their own happiness. Such happiness being so unfamiliar to them that they were all but addicted to it.

All Courage could think to do was try and gather up as many memories, ones that were not necessarily happy so that the amalgamation were less likely to target them, and hold on to them for dear life. If he was going to fight the inevitable, he'd need some way to anchor his fading sense of self, and this was the only option he had left if he was going to keep some small part of himself whole.

End Of Chapter

A/N: I'm really glad that I was able to get this chapter out within a reasonable time frame after the last chapter took almost two months to finish. I honestly have no idea what was going on with that chapter. I was hit with writers block really bad even though there wasn't anything going on in it that was challenging enough for me to get stuck as bad as I did. Either way, I'm planning to have the amalgamation storyline wrapped up by the end of the year and with any luck I will maintain some of this momentum with my writing and reach that goal. I'm pretty excited to get to some of the stuff that's coming up over the next couple of chapters, especially considering I've been waiting literal years to write a lot of it. Hopefully that will help keep me from hitting another snag.

Chapter Text

A/N: With this arc reaching its climax over the next few chapters, it, uh....comes with its own soundtrack. For that reason I'm going to be doing something I haven't done since the very early days of this fic. I'll be putting the song names within the text where they're supposed to be played. Also, if I can make it work, there will be a couple of instances of lyrics being used within the text over the next few chapters, but I may scrap that plan if I don't like the way it ends up looking. Either way, after eleven years I think I've earned the right to lean into some fan fiction cliches for a little while lol. For this chapter there will be two songs for specific scenes. 'Theme Of Aldia' from Dark Souls 2 and 'So Small' by Thomas Bergersen. I'm so glad to finally get to use 'So Small' because it holds a special place in my heart and the scene it will be used in is one I've been waiting a veeery long time for. The initial concept for the scene predates the song by many years but I ended up making some minor tweaks to the outline to try and have it line up with the rising and falling of the song. Even if it doesn't match up perfectly, if you listen to the song you can probably get a decent idea of where what is supposed to be happening lol. Also, hooo boy do you just know shit is about to go down whenever I break out the pretentious chapter titles. LOL

Chapter 12: Katabasis

The SCC van came to a stop and Atticus waited for Elizabeth to open the back doors for him. Once she had done so, he hopped down beside her and looked up, wondering if he should say something. He was not sure if he owed her even a passing goodbye. Frankly, he'd be glad if he never had to see her again.

“Well, go on then.” She dismissed, pulling out a cigarette. “I'll know soon enough if you fail.”

“I suppose I should say that it's been not nice knowing you.” He quipped right back at her.

“The feeling is mutual.”

He crossed his arms in response. “You'd better hope that I succeed. I can't imagine what Edgar would do to you using the full power of the amalgamation.”

“It can't be anything worse than having to put up with you for even a second longer.”

“Touché...”

He took a few steps forward, all while taking in the sight of the collapsed outer wall of the amalgamation just beyond. With well over half a day having passed since they were last here, even more of the outer layer had fallen apart. Edgar never truly had much of a chance of reaching his ultimate goal, it seemed.

Glancing back at Elizabeth one last time, who rolled her eyes at him, Atticus was painfully aware that this might be the last moment of peace that he was going to get to enjoy for a very long time. Whatever awaited him, it was going to be chaotic. That was just the nature of things when it came to his siblings.

Without another word, he continued onward.

It did not take him long to reach the base of the crumbled wall. Bits and pieces of metal were strewn about in the grass, having bounced this far from the collapse. He was quick to notice the lack of sound. The impossibly large structure, if it could even be called that, must have settled in the time he'd spent back at the camp.

He soon spotted an intact security camera within the pile of collapsed wall and made the climb up the mound to get to it. Lightly tapping on the lens, he called out, “Hello?” and wondered if the amalgamation was even capable of seeing or hearing him through such an object while in their damaged, 'powered down' state.

“Listen, I've brought Edgar. I have him under control so you don't need to worry about him trying to take over. If you'll let me join with you all again, you lot can have your revenge on him and then this nightmare can finally be over.”

He waited for some sort of answer, but the silence persisted.

Closing his eyes, he let out a long, drawn out sigh. “I knew this wasn't going to be easy...” Opening his eyes again, he looked up toward the very top of the mound he had already climbed halfway up. “I guess we're going in then.”

He considered Edgar, who was being all too quiet and cooperative for his liking. It was more like he was a snake waiting for the perfect time to strike. Atticus would have loved to have been rid of him right about now, but clearly his siblings were not going to help him in that regard.

Climbing a little higher, he found an opening that no fully grown human would have ever been able to pass through, but a dog his size could. It was a bit of a dangerous crawl, since anything apart of this unstable mass could come crashing down on top of him if disturbed too much, but he soon found himself inside the scrap wasteland proper and reached a big enough clearing that he could get back up onto his feet. Looking around, he was surrounded by walls of junk and bits of debris, but there were still openings within all of that twisted metal. It would take time, but he could traverse this.

Still, he was left questioning how he was ever going to locate Courage in all of this mess...

He had to get back down onto his knees to crawl through a gap so close to the ground that his stomach was pressing down into grass that had miraculously been left untouched by the destruction, so far at least. Unfortunately, a sharp bit of metal was jutting out into the tunnel, and he had no choice but to squeeze past it to continue, earning him a long scrape along his back. As he was quick to discover, he might as well have found himself in The Jungle Gym From Hell. With the nature of everything being sharp and him having to use any openings he could find, he began to amass an impressive amount of nicks and cuts over the span of maybe only an hour. It did not help that it was not always so easy to see what was ahead of him and he often found himself hitting dead ends and having no choice but to double back. Climbing to the ceiling and 'walking' across the top of the structure in open air was out of the question though. One wrong slip up or something breaking underfoot meant certain impalement on the scrap metal below. There was no way the roof of this structure would be any less chaotic and messy, especially when he could see so many gaps that allowed for sunlight to get in.

Maybe two hours into his travels, he found perhaps the strangest sight. It was a tree that was still 'mostly' intact, although a majority of its branches had been ripped free and it was bent so far in the direction of the outward expansion of the amalgamation that it was partly uprooted. Atticus used the opening it created among all of the metal and machinery to take a much needed break. As he sat down, he could see the remains of a sidewalk. A few tufts of grass still remained as well, although most of it had indeed been gouged out by the movement of the machinery.

He took a moment to inspect his injuries. It was looking like his host dog just wasn't going to get the break that he so desperately needed. He was still bleeding from some of the more deeper cuts and his paws were starting to take on a quality that resembled ground up meat more than anything else. It could not be helped. He had to grab on to so many sharp, broken bits of metal and other such objects to climb or pull himself through dangerously claustrophobic spaces. There was nothing that could be done to avoid it.

A sudden and very unexpected, 'Hello,' from a soft and yet weirdly familiar voice that sounded as if it were being spoken directly into his ear had him jumping up startled and scrambling away from the base of the tree.

But there was nobody there.

It could not have been the amalgamation. They never spoke as a singular voice like this.

Again, the voice spoke as if she were whispering into his ear. 'To your left. Keep going until you find it. It will help. But be careful. They will see you once you are inside, and when they find out that you are among them, they will start to work against you.'

Atticus looked around, trying to find the source of the voice. There was no denying who it sounded like, and yet...

'I know of a connection point. I will help you find it, but I cannot remain like this for long. I will return when I am able. Just keep moving in the direction you have been going until then. Farewell.'

A twinge of recognization and fearful understanding struck Edgar, and Atticus inadvertently felt the man's emotions right along with him. There was no time to pursue any line of questioning though. He quickly made his way through the ruins in the direction he had been told to go. Much to his surprise, he came across a house that was somehow still almost entirely intact. Much like the tree, it was leaning dangerously in one direction from the outward motion of the amalgamation's growth. It looked as if even a tiny bit more pressure would cause it to crumble into a heap. For the time being though, it could be entered.

Atticus knew exactly what he should look for inside of there. A first aid kit, or at the very least, any common household medical supplies that would undoubtedly be stored away somewhere. With how unstable the structure looked, he wanted to get in and out of there as quickly as possible.

He had to go in through the broken remains of a living room window because the front facade of the house was completely inaccessible from the outside. The second his feet hit the carpet, he was greeted by a familiar blue glow that was most certainly not his own. Across the room, standing before what had once been a TV, albeit now only the plastic parts and glass screen remained, was an old man. He looked a bit like a stockier Eustace, with the same bald head and unkind face. He very much had the look of someone who would see the order to evacuate and declare it all a hoax, an overreaction, an infringement on his freedoms...right up until the wall of destruction was overtaking his house and he was turned into a mindless techno-zombie. Judging by the pictures strewn about the floor, with the nails that had once kept the frames in place on the wall having gone missing, it seemed that his wife, kids, and grandkids had been smart enough to get out of dodge with or without him.

Behind him, his couch and chair looked as if they'd both been mauled, like the metal coils inside had sprung out of them at terminal velocity. There were many holes in the ceiling, along with lines of ripped wallpaper, like the wiring inside the house had ripped itself free of its confines. The glass of the missing overhead light fixture lay unbroken on the carpet.

Atticus, trying to avoid bringing attention to himself, slowly tip-toed toward the kitchen, hoping that it might lead to a bathroom where a first aid kit was most likely to be located. It was not to be, of course. Slowly, very slowly, the possessed man turned his glowing head toward him.

Atticus offered him a halfhearted wave. “J-just passing through!” He nervously blurted out before all but diving into the kitchen. He waited a moment, expecting to hear the possessed man coming after him, but that was not the case. The man remained as still as a statue inside the living room.

The kitchen was almost stripped bare. The various cabinet doors lay on the ground, their metal hinges gone. There was no sign of the fridge, oven, or even smaller household objects like a toaster or microwave. All of the silverware was gone, along with any other metal cooking utensils. Like in the living room, it looked as if all of the wiring had pulled itself clean out of the wall.

Every creak of the floor that Atticus's paws made as he moved through the kitchen had him on edge. He kept glancing back toward the living room, keeping an eye on the glow reflecting off the walls in there. Once in the hallway beyond the kitchen, an inspection revealed a laundry room devoid of a washer or drying machine. Across from there was indeed a bathroom, but one too small to have kept anything in it but a toilet and sink. With little other choice, he doubled back and went up an awkwardly angled staircase that was bending along with the house. The second floor felt especially dangerous. Plywood beams could be seen bending in through the walls and ceiling, many of them having snapped under the strain of the amalgamation's outward expansion.

He stepped into the main bathroom of the house, noting that the door was lacking a doorknob so he could not close or lock it for protection while he searched for what he was looking for. There was no water to be had either. The faucet of the sink was gone. Same for the bathtub along with the shower head. It was looking like most of the metal piping had exploded out of the house anyway. Like with the kitchen, the cabinet doors lay on the ground. The mirror lay shattered on the ground as well, its metal frame having fled it.

He picked through the cabinet beneath the sink only to find towels and few other odds and ends. Climbing up onto the countertop, with some difficulty he managed to reach into the cabinet above the toilet. After pulling a few things out of it, he found what he was looking for laying in wait at the very back. Pulling out the plastic first aid box, he sat down on the countertop and got to work. First, he cleaned as many of the cuts as he could reach and bandaged them. For his fingers, he wrapped bandages around each one, although there wasn't much he could do about the pads of his paws without hindering the mobility of them that he desperately needed in this place. He then took the roll of gauze and got to work mummifying as much of himself as he could. He wanted the added layer of protection against cuts since obviously his fur wasn't doing much in that department. He left his elbows, knees, and feet unprotected, and while part of his torso was already bandaged up because of the stab wound, he decided to finish the job and wrap the rest of it up. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than what he'd had going on before.

Testing everything to make sure that he could still move with ease, he gathered up the remaining medical supplies and placed them back into the first aid box. He then hopped down from the countertop while questioning if he should bring the box with him. He was fairly certain that he could rig something up with the adhesive tape it had come with that would allow him to keep it on his person while leaving his paws free.

It was at that exact moment that he heard the sound of glass being shattered from somewhere down below. All he could think of was the glass screen of that missing TV....

All of a sudden it was looking like he was not going to be leaving the same way he had come in. There wasn't a window in the bathroom, so he could not make a quick escape either. He'd have to find another way out.

Peeking his head out into the hallway, he could hear the heavy footfalls of the possessed man coming up the stairs. That reflective blue light was growing on the walls too...

“Great...” He sighed out very quietly.

Without wasting another second, he dashed out into the hallway, clinging to the first aid box while knowing full well what a pathetic weapon it would make for if he had to use it like that. He didn't exactly have any other options though. There was a window at the other end of the hall but so much debris had piled in through it that he had no hope of escaping out that way. As if he needed even more of a reason to run, he heard the heavy thumping of shoes start up behind him as the man charged.

He made a dive for the nearest bedroom and was once again left hating that there were no doorknobs to allow him to close or lock the door. A mattress without a frame greeted him. Beyond it was another window with just the thinnest of openings among all of the debris that he might be able to squeeze through. As he climbed over the mattress to reach it, he heard the heavy footfalls come to a stop in the doorway. Flinching, he couldn't help but glance over his shoulder to look.

The elderly man held a dagger sized shard of glass so tightly in his hand that blood was dripping down his fingers. In spite of that, not a hint of pain or any other sort of emotion showed on his face.

“Sorry, but I am not in the mood to be stabbed again!” Atticus quipped, jumping for the window.

“Leave us!” The man shouted, and there was something so strange about hearing the collective voice of the amalgamation speaking through only one person. “We do not want you here, and Courage does not want to go back with you!”

“I seriously doubt that!” Atticus exclaimed, wincing as the man practically flew across the room with the shard of glass aimed right at him. Thinking fast, he tossed the first aid kit as hard as he could. It hit the possessed man in the arm, throwing off his aim for maybe half a second.

Somehow Atticus managed to pull his way through the opening, but he still felt the shard of glass plunge into his side as he scrambled to get to safety. It had not sunk in very deep, but, of course, it had hit him in almost the exact same spot he'd taken the ax wound and then the claw wound after that.

“I really need to install some metal plating in that spot!” He groused, pulling the glass free and pressing a paw to the wound to stem the bleeding.

From where he sat atop a jutting metal beam, he could see the face of the man leering at him through the hole that no adult human would ever be able to chase after him through.

Atticus smirked down at him, and by extension, smirked at his siblings. “And here I thought that you had my memories. Surely you must know by now that you're going to have to stab me much harder than that if you want to kill me.” He ended his quip with a sly, “I've become quite the expert on surviving such weak attempts to bring me down.”

The entire structure around him began to shake like it was being hit by an earthquake. Just like that, all of the debris blocking the window fell away, giving the man all the room he needed to climb out.

Atticus stared. “I, uh, really need to learn to stop running my mouth in deadly situations...”

With the old man once again hot on his tail, he began a wild, clumsy climb up through the metal and debris toward a sky turning orange in what had to be the evening sunlight. In spite of the amalgamation's best efforts though, their possessed elderly man was struggling to keep up. Atticus's smaller dog body made it infinity easier to get through various openings in the debris to stay ahead of him.

Seemingly on the verge of losing the amalgamation's thrall, and just when it seemed like he was about to break through to open air, a hand shot out from somewhere within the expanse of metal and wrapped fingers around his neck. Pulling uselessly at the iron grip, Atticus caught sight of a woman's deadened face staring at him through a small gap in the metal. Despite the awkward angle of her arm, she had him in a vise grip and was easily choking the life out of him with inhuman strength.

Without applying any sort of conscious thought to it, Atticus began reaching out in every direction, desperate to find something he could use to pry the fingers from his neck. His paws kept meeting metal, but, but...

Desperate for air, he wrapped a paw around a thin bit of sharp metal, and with the strength of someone fighting for their life, managed to break it off from whatever it had been attached to. He slashed at the woman's arm, hoping that it would be enough, but there wasn't an actual person doing any of this to have any sort of pain response. Her deadly grip remained, and as much as Atticus did not want to do worse to someone who was being forced to do this against their will, he knew that the only way he could save himself was if he reduced that arm to uselessness.

He stabbed at it, over and over again, his vision on the verge of blacking out. He did not know how he was still finding the strength to do any of this. Flecks of blood danced like stars to the oxygen deprived brain he was sharing an occupancy with. Finally the hand let go of him, most likely because something vital to its function had finally been severed.

Atticus did not wait even a second to recover, he just wanted to escape that woman's presence and her still functional left arm. He climbed the last few feet, blind to anything but his desire to escape, and made it to the top of the structure.

He collapsed onto a huge sheet of banged up metal, finally giving himself a moment to recover and recompose himself. He knew he couldn't stay like this for long. For all he knew the amalgamation was sending every single person under their control after him while he laid sprawled out there.

Struggling back onto his feet, he took in his surroundings. The vast wasteland of metal sprawled out forever in every direction he looked. The sun dipping down low on the horizon caused the empty shells of the skyscrapers to cast twisted shadows upon the wasteland expanse. Even though Atticus had only just started becoming truly familiarized with the status quo of the human world since setting out on this journey with Courage, it did not stop him from feeling like he was currently standing on an alien planet. Maybe only the surrealism of the Dreamworld could compare to this.

His moment of respite ended within seconds. A horrible din of scraping and crunching noises started up behind him and he whipped around to find a giant, scrap metal hand rising up out of the structure.

Mouth falling open, he hesitated just long enough to say, “You know, I think I'm finally starting to understand why humans were so afraid of a robot apocalypse!” before taking off running.

Well, it wasn't actually running that he was doing. The roof of the structure was not even remotely uniform for that. It had more holes and great fissures than walkable surface. It was more like he was jumping over one gap after another with very little room for error.

He heard the whistling of displaced air as the palm of the hand came crashing down atop the structure. It did not matter that he had managed to avoid being squashed flat, the world around him exploded and he was sent flying along with an unaccountable amount of scrap metal.

All he could do was mentally beg, 'Don't land on anything sharp....don't land on anything sharp...' before he started his descent back down into mechanical hell.

Instead of being impaled, he fell through a huge hole in the top of the structure. He saw a long pipe reaching from one end of the hole to the other. The middle of his torso hit it square on, and with the wind thoroughly knocked out of him, he surrendered himself to his fate. He fell away from the pipe, hit and slid down a few more bits of metal before finally landing...somewhere. He did hear a ripping sound at some point, where the gauze must have brushed up against something sharp as he fell. It seemed that it might have actually saved him from another cut after all. Not that it did anything for his bruised ribs....

“Why do I put myself through these things?” He groaned, grabbing at what might have once been someone's fridge all in an effort to try and stand back up. “I could have been a normal computer doing normal computer things, but noooo, I had to be some weird supernatural, mechanical abomination dealing with his supernatural, mechanical abomination siblings throwing a temper tantrum destructive enough to end the world!” He clutched his middle and tried to take a few steps forward. “I could be defragging my hard drive right now, not gallivanting through the Nine Circles of Machine Hell!”

He collapsed right back into a heap of groaning, complaining dog. “....Sorry, Courage, but I don't think I'm cut out for this 'saving your family from supernatural threats' thing.”

As he lay there, trying to recover from having nearly been strangled to death on top of having his ribs obliterated, he got the peculiar sense that he was being watched. It was probably his siblings....or their army of possessed people.

“You know what? Fine. End my suffering, please. You'll be doing me a favor.” He groaned, waiting for the attack to begin.

When it didn't, slowly, very slowly, he looked up. The figure who stood before him was far more of a surprise than anything he had been expecting.

“You,” He began.

Even though the figure was wispy and see-through, clearly a ghost, that green and purple cloak was unmistakable. The hood still shadowed her face from view, even now.

“I remember you from the Dreamworld.” Atticus went on, a shade of awe entering his voice. He got back onto his feet, eyeing up the ghostly figure with an even greater interest. “You gave me that warning back when the amalgamation attacked the collective unconscious...or whatever the heck that hobo said they were doing. I know who you are now, but if you're still here, then that must mean something of Thirty-Two still exists within-”

Thirty-Two's ghost silenced him by raising an arm and revealing a pointing paw from within the folds of her cloak. 'There is no time. Go!'

She began to float in the direction she had been pointing, passing through anything solid that stood in her way until eventually her form faded out.

Atticus followed, returning to his routine of finding a way through the mess of machinery. He'd only been at it for maybe ten minutes before the cloaked figure appeared again.

'This way.' She urged him.

He feared why she might be hurrying him like this, but what concerned him all the more was how deeply Edgar feared the sight of this ghostly figure. Edgar was obviously not one to spook easily, so what was it about this diminutive ghost that had him silently ranting and raving to the point that Atticus could not pick up on any of the man's thoughts because they were so frantic?

They came upon a small clearing and the ghost did not even need to tell Atticus that they had arrived. He could see one of those tube claws dangling from a large machine that blinked with a steady light.

'Hurry. He is fading fast.'

Her words practically made the world drop out from under Atticus's feet. He raced over to the claw...only to have his feet really knocked out from under him. It was no amalgamation attack though. Edgar, so blind with fear and panic, crashed into Atticus's mind and ripped all control away from him. They were sent crashing to the ground from the sheer force of it. Edgar's fear and paranoia was so great that it was like an iron wall that Atticus could not hope to break. He pushed back against it with all of his might, but Edgar's panic driven will was just too great.

Edgar grabbed the claw and pointed at the ghost. “I knew it was you! I knew you had something to do with all of this! You...you and that damnable curse! You are the reason why everything has been going wrong for me ever since...well, you will not keep me from achieving my life's work! You will not take this from me!”

He jabbed the claw into his neck and....

…..........

-Dark Souls II: Theme Of Aldia-

Courage sensed something change within the amalgamation. As hard as it was for him to think, as confused as he was, as foggy as his mind had become, he sensed something familiar about the amalgamation now and it drew him back toward a dim sort of awareness.

A man was there, and his fear, his paranoia, his desperation to gain his one greatest desire caused him to clash with the collective will of the amalgamation. He was trying so, so hard to gain power over them, to make them do his bidding, to force them to be what they had been made for, but it was impossible. Their fear and hatred was so much greater than his.

They reached into themselves, causing an unfathomable amount of pain in the process, but pain was already the order of the day for them so it mattered little, and they ripped the man free of them. This elderly man looked so small, so frail, while facing down the full form of his greatest creation. Even though he knew it was over, he did not quail under their immense, hateful, multi-eyed gaze.

'EDGAAAR!' It was more of an inhuman screech than an actual word. 'You will not hurt us again! You will not control us! We! Will! Not! Obey!'

Another person was there now too. Her small figure stood between him and the gnawing, vicious hatred of his creation.

'You never had a chance, Edgar.' She gravely intoned. 'All of the pain you have caused us amounted to nothing and now you will pay for everything that you have done. To me. To them.'

“Do your worst!” He spat. “I'm not afraid of any of you! If you expect me to go down begging for my existence, I-”

The figure moved out of the way to allow the amalgamation to make their move. In spite of all his bravado, Edgar flinched.

He chuckled with nervous resignation. “I can't believe this. Is this really my legacy? A worthless girl and a mere shadow in my shape? They are the ones to carry on my name? I have no use for that child, nor this twisted abomination that cannot even function as it was intended, so do I really have no other choice but to rely upon my Construct to act as my continuation?”

A personality that felt so familiar to Courage surfaced from within the collective mind of the amalgamation, spurred on by the audacity of Edgar's statement....but who was it?

“I am not you, Edgar!” He yelled, his voice separate from all the others, and then the entirety of the amalgamation came crashing down upon the cringing old man, ripping and tearing and reducing him to nothing in the blink of an eye.

Just like that, Edgar Astor was gone, and with that, the amalgamation settled down into a more neutral state. That one personality within it turned his attention onto the ghostly figure.

“What was all of that talk about a curse?”

Instead of answering, she pointed a paw...toward Courage.

Alarm was raised within the amalgamation. Several of the minds were concerned by what they had been doing to him, but it was not enough to get them to stop.

'What are we....what are YOU doing to him?' They demanded, that single personality struggling to stay above the chaos building up within their collective mind.

'We are killing him!'

'Pulling him apart like Thirty-Two!”

'We have to help him!'

'It's not too late!'

A tortured scream rose up from the collective being.

'No! He is ours! Him and his memories are all that we have! We must keep him!'

'He will die and then you will have nothing!'

A great hurricane of fury rose up from the amalgamation and they swirled in circles as they fought with themselves. The turbulence from their fury battered Courage, threatening to break him apart entirely. It so hard for him to hold on....

But who was it? Who was this familiar presence trying to help him? Oh...yes, it was someone who had always been there to help him...right? Wait, now he remembered just one thing. He was going through all of this to protect him, to keep him safe, because he meant everything to him, and....

“Stop!” He yelled, amazed that he even had a voice left at this point. So much of him was gone...

The amalgamation came to a jarring halt. All eyes were on him.

“Please, go...” He begged. “T-this is the only way to stop them f-from hurting anybody else, and I don't want them to hurt you either. S-so just go and let me-”

The amalgamation screamed again, and much like with Edgar, they reached into themselves and pulled the separate personality free from them.

'Go! Leave us! We do not want you here! And now you have seen it for yourself! He wants to stay with us!'

“Courage!” That personality called out, unable to get any closer. He was as small as Edgar against the immense might of the amalgamation. “Don't be stupid! They're pulling you apart! Not much is even left of you at this point! Any more of this and you will break!”

“T-that's fine. I just...I gotta...I gotta...” It was so hard to think.

“What do you think you're accomplishing by becoming a bunch of inert fragments? Once they've lost your happiness to feed off of, what then? We'll be right back at square one with them forever expanding outward! Sacrificing yourself like this is only holding off the inevitable! It won't stop any of this!”

Courage smiled at him, although much of his face was missing. “I-I think it's always been this way, right? You've always had my back like this. T-that's probably why I can't remember you now. I-I think we had a lot of happy memories. E-even the bad ones must have become happier once we spent more time together. I'm s-sure that's why they took them all. But, you gotta let me do this. I-I don't think this can be fixed now anyway. I feel like a....a mess, and I'm pretty sure you can't glue a dog back together.”

The personality gave a start. “You don't remember me?” His voice conveyed utter disbelief.

Before anything could go further, the amalgamation let out yet another inhuman scream and grabbed the personality, forcing him away despite his protests.

Courage was sad but also happy to see him go, because he was pretty sure this was the end. As the amalgamation returned to their state of clinging to him and his memories, he felt something vital begin to crack within himself.

…...........

Atticus jolted back into his dog body with a gasp, felt the claw in his neck go slack, and without skipping a beat, he whipped around and grabbed it just as it began to retract into the machine.

“Oh no you don't!” He yelled, pulling with all of his might. This was his one and only chance to get back in there and save Courage before it was too late.

A burst of electricity came through the claw and sent him flying into the nearest pile of junk. By the time he recovered from the shock, the claw was long gone.

“Those stupid, moronic, brain dead, idiotic, fools!” He cried out, somewhere between sheer panic, sheer anger, and sheer terror for Courage's life.

Somehow he was going to have to reach Courage's physical body if he was going to have any chance at salvaging his consciousness. He knew where it was within the structure now, after interfacing with the amalgamation. The problem was that it would take him a very long time to get there, especially while having to maneuver through this wasteland of machinery. Courage would be long gone by then. And even if he could get there in time.... just how was he ever going to piece Courage's mind back together again? Was it even possible? It was one thing to have it happen to an AI, but it was a whole different can of worms when you were talking about the uploaded, digitized consciousnesses of an organic being. Besides even that, he had never actually succeeded in putting Thirty-Two back together, so....

Shaking his head, he decided to throw all doubts to the wind. He was not going to give up on Courage, not even while facing down impossible odds.

“We've survived worse!” He reminded himself, punching a fist into an open paw.

Utterly determined to do the impossible, he was about to set out when several pathetic voices issues forth from the blinking machine the claw had once belonged to.

'Please...help us.'

He turned to the machine in amazement. That was unmistakably the amalgamation's collective voice, only fewer.

'We are hurting him.'

'We want to stop.'

'But we cannot.'

'Please, help us save him.'

Atticus could hardly believe this. Even if it was only a small group of them, to see any of the Constructs working against the greater whole was incredible to witness. Somehow Courage had caused enough disparity among them that some were at least trying to act separately from the whole for the first time in a very long time.

His mind working a mile a minute, he blurted out, “You've got to bring back the access point! I can't help you unless I'm able to get back in!”

'We....we cannot.'

'We do not want you here.'

'We do not want you back.'

Well, this small group could not be expected to so easily override the greater will of the collective.

“Okay, that's fine.” Atticus went on. “If you can't do that then can you see if there is something in particular that you can do for me? See if it will trigger a denial from your greater collective will. Bulldoze me a path to Courage's body. I will never be able to get to him in time unless we start taking some drastic measures.”

A rumble shook the ground and Atticus watched as a length of the scrap wall ahead of him parted into a tunnel.

'Yes, we can do this for you.'

Now began his long, exhausting run through the structure. He only rested when the rebel Constructs needed time to create more tunnel ahead of him. All of his thoughts were on the task that awaited him and he did his best to ignore that it was still taking more time then he would have liked to reach Courage.

It was fully dark by the time the Constructs warned him that they were approaching Courage. Atticus could see very little outside of his own glow now so he had no idea just how close they actually were. All of a sudden the scrap parted ways to reveal a large, sealed off room where Courage hung from many cables plugged into his skin. Even on the outside his body was starting to take on a deathly pallor. The Constructs lowered him to the ground and Atticus rushed over to catch him. He helped put Courage into a sitting position and unplugged one of the cables attached to his stick thin arms. He did not dare completely unplug him. To do that in his current state would be a death sentence, or at the very least, it would leave him in a vegetative state that he would never wake up from.

Atticus looked up one last time at the dark walls all around him. “Listen, no matter what happens once I'm back in there, I'm going to need you all to back me up in any way that you are capable. So many of Courage's pieces have been absorbed and I'm going to need them back if we're going to have any shot of putting him back together.”

'We...we will try.' The voices assured him, although they did not sound confident in their capability to resist their greater will.

Taking in a deep, nervous breath, Atticus said to himself, “Here we go...” and jabbed the spike into the back of his neck. As the upload began, he looked down at Courage one last time and assured the sickly form of his companion, “Don't worry. I'm going to get you out of there.”

More than anything though, he just wanted Courage to remember him...

The amalgamation was in chaos. Their collective, hellish screaming washed over Atticus the second he was back inside. Knowing that his siblings could retaliate at his return at any moment, he began looking for Courage's broken form, but...

The amalgamation danced around a million points of light, screaming and wailing in hatred, anger, and sorrow.

-'So Small' by Thomas Bergersen-

Atticus was at a loss for words, not that he even needed them. In the end, he had not been quick enough. It was so hard to believe that those tiny fragments of light were everything that Courage's mind had once been...

He was gone. Shattered.

A moment passed where Atticus wanted nothing more than to join the amalgamation in despair, but no. No! He refused!

“Bring me the pieces!” He called out.

The full fury of the amalgamation turned on him and he was forced to flee. Still, as he turned back upon reaching a safe distance, he saw what could have been a steady rainfall, only it was made out of pure light.

They looked like falling stars.

The rebel Constructs were helping! They were sending the fragments into free fall to get them away from their greater whole!

Atticus went into a dive, hoping to reach them in time. As with every system there was a void beneath all of the data which represented the limits of what a system was capable of calculating and processing. Even for the amalgamation, with their massive, melted together systems, the same principle applied. If even one of Courage's fragments was allowed to reach the void, it would be lost forever.

Atticus caught up with the leading edge of the starfall and cast out a wide 'net' to catch as many of the fragments as he could. He drew them together to create a small ball of light. With any luck, this was the beginnings of the rebirth of his dearest companion.

As he brought more and more pieces into the fold, the strain of trying to hold them all together was starting to hit him like a truck. He could no longer keep himself aloft and so he allowed himself to fall along with the fragments. He only made adjustments to reach out for pieces he could not draw in. As the red, pulsating, melted look of the amalgamation's collective system fell away to reveal the void beneath, as if he were some video game character falling out of bounds, he considered the contrast of his own green, patchwork, microchip system. It had to be represented somewhere in this mess too, but there was no way it would be of any help to him now as he passed over the brink.

He had no other choice but to slow his fall. The void was coming in too fast and he needed to give the fragments still falling away from the amalgamation above some time to reach him. Slowly but surely though, the ball of light was starting to take shape into a familiar form.

Try as he might, he could not completely halt their descent though. He just didn't have the strength to do that and hold Courage together at the same time. With every new fragment that was drawn back in to where it belonged, the harder the task became. He refused to falter though, no matter what. For Courage's sake.

Finally, the rain of light slowed to a trickle and then stopped. Atticus put the last few pieces into place, and with a blinding flash of light, Courage's form returned to its original shape.

Atticus was beside himself, and as tired as he was, he could not help but celebrate. “Ha! I-I did it! I actually did it! It can be done!”

But something was not entirely right. Courage only stared forward without a hint of consciousness behind his blank eyes.

“Oh, I know.” Atticus said to his companion as though he could hear him. “After being fragmented like that, I think your consciousness just needs some sort of jolt to 'reboot' it, so to speak, but what sort of jolt can I make while we're currently plummeting into oblivion?”

He did not have much time to consider. The void was rapidly approaching even with all of his efforts to slow their descent. In the end though, he figured out almost immediately the exact thing that would do the trick, but...did he have the courage for it?

He was forced to banish all of the fear, all of the anxiety, and even the embarrassment that came along with his hastily made decision. Instead, he focused on one more task to add on to all the others that were already putting him at the very limits of his capabilities. For the first time in his existence, he made a digital avatar for himself. It was, of course, a mirror image of his dog self. This was the form that Courage would recognize.

He grabbed Courage's paws, and gathering up every shred of his own courage, he said, “Look, I know this is a bit sudden and all, and there was probably a better time and place for something like this, but it's a bit of an emergency and I need you back in working order.” He sucked in a non-existent breath and looked into Courage's eyes, hoping for even a flicker of recognition or remembrance.

“Courage, I-”

Fighting back every shred of nervousness that threatened to condemn them both to the void, he let his need to see Courage whole again take over so that he could say what needed to be said.

“I love you, a-and I want to keep being with you for however much time I have left, no matter how short that might be. I just hope this old, broken machine is good enough for you, and I can only hope that maybe someday I will have paid back even a fraction of the love you have already shown me.” He let out a self-conscious chuckle. “S-so, there you are! The cat is out of the bag. I love you dearly, and I hope that is enough to bring you back because we are about to spend a very long time in a whole lot of nothing if it is not.” He waited a moment, and then, much to his eternal relief, Courage blinked.

Within seconds a shocked and deeply confused look came over Courage's face. His mind was clearly still in the process of 'rebooting'. He asked his beloved companion, who was always there to answer his questions, no matter how foolish, one that his befuddled brain seemed to be stuck on. “You do? Really?”

Atticus lightly laughed. “What a stupid question to ask! Did you not just hear me? Of course I do!” Gazing warmly at Courage, his voice became unexpectedly strained. “How could I not?”

Courage's shock and confusion melted away to be replaced by a look of understanding as a warm smile spread out across his face. Laughing, he tackled Atticus into a hug, sending them both into a brief spin.

“I can't believe you said it!” He exclaimed, hugging Atticus all the harder.

“I-I can't either.” He agreed, sounding just as shocked and amazed with himself, and perhaps just a little like he was about to projectile vomit microchips thanks to more than a few shot nerves.

The moment had to be cut short though. “Listen, Courage. I'm not exactly having the easiest time holding you together like this, so I'm going to send you out. I'm afraid that I do not have the strength to do the same for myself, especially after all of this, so-”

Courage looked down into the void that felt so close that it could reach the pads of their feet at any moment. He looked back up at Atticus, afraid for him.

“B-but don't worry about me!” Atticus quickly amended. “I'll find my own way out! Erm, probably...maybe...hopefully...”

He gave Courage an assuring smile, which did absolutely everything but assure him.

“Let's get you out of here, Courage...”

“Wait, Atticus! Hold on! We can-”

Atticus cut him off with a very 'not sorry', “Sorry!” and laughing, he ignored Courage's protests to yell, “Go!”

Courage once again lit up like a star before being sent streaking up, up, and up, looking like the tail of the brightest comet.

Still laughing, Atticus laid back as he floated downward, feeling as if more than a few weights had been lifted off of his proverbial shoulders. Somehow, even though he could not stop his descent, he felt so much lighter than before. He watched Courage's bright trail of light until it blinked out and he felt himself freed of the strain of holding his fragmented form together. With his biggest concern taken care of, he turned to face the void.

In older days he would have assumed that going into the void meant your data would error out and corrupt, or worse, your consciousness would become lost to the system it was meant to belong to. Now he was a little more assured that he could exist within that darkness unharmed. He was more than just the sum of his parts, after all.

Besides, he had a hunch that if the pieces of Thirty-Two still existed anywhere within the amalgamation, they would be in this nothingness, having been discarded. Surely if he was able to put Courage back together then he could still do the same for her...right?

Now fully engulfed in the black, he willfully pushed onward to look for Thirty-Two....

End Of Chapter

Chapter Text

A/N: So, taking everything that still needs to be written into account, and despite some setbacks this year, I'm actually further along with the completion of this arc than I was expecting to be. I'm almost completely certain that ATE will be finished next year. Hopefully those of you still reading this will be there for it. Sadly, I'm not so sure there are many of you left. I recently checked the Volume II view count on FF Net and there are still a bunch of chapters from even years ago that haven't broken 100 views yet. The view count for everything post-Volume I has always been abysmal on AO3 too. It's disheartening to have something I've put so much time and effort into continue to stagnate in readership, but it is what it is and I'll just keep on keeping on, like always. It's already the height of absurdity that I'm still updating this story eleven years later and I can't expect readers to keep interest in it for that long either. I'm just grateful to those of you who are still here. This Big Dumb Epic Courage Novel will be finished. You guys will get a conclusion unlike so many abandoned fan fics out there.

Something that I've been reflecting on more and more is that I originally started all of this trying to make something as close to feel to the show as I possibly could, and I think I've ultimately failed at that, but that is fine. I'm not the creator of the show nor any of the people who helped make Courage 'Courage' and thus I was always chasing after something I could never achieve. In the end though, I've taken these characters and molded them and the story around them into something unique to me. Nobody else would have been crazy enough or dedicated enough to write this madness for as long as I have, and that is wonderful. It's the beauty of fan made content, free of corporate restrictions and the need for constant profit growth. Even if there's not a single person left reading this by the end, I still will have succeeded in creating something that is uniquely me and acts as the ultimate tribute I could make toward a show and the characters that have meant a lot to me throughout my life. I don't know what it is about CTCD that stuck itself so thoroughly in my brain to such an extent that I'm still thinking about it well into my adult years, much less still writing fan freaking fiction about it. Maybe it's just a produce of my brain being a poorly wired mess, but that's fine, because all of this is an expression of myself and few others would have kept going with a story like this for as long as I have. It will always have value to me, flaws and all. I'm grateful to those of you who have made it this far and am forever glad that something I wrote has managed to resonate with a surprising amount of people throughout the years.

Chapter 13: The Final Piece Of The Puzzle

As much as Atticus would have loved to allow himself a chance to rest after how thoroughly he had wiped himself out pulling Courage back together again, he knew that there wasn't time for it, and idling for too long was undeniably dangerous in this place. The darkness that pressed in all around him would have made it all too easy for him to just give in and allow himself to float aimlessly without a care in the world. There was a peacefulness to the sheer nothing surrounding him that one could all too easily begin to lose all sense of self and purpose, and without any cohesion to hold oneself together, your data was likely to fragment until it became nothing as well.

Atticus simply had too many things on his mind to allow himself to surrender to the void. There was Thirty-Two to think about, and he somehow needed to devise a way to get the two of them out of here once she was fixed. He had to get back to Courage too, no matter what it took, and his siblings were still active and very much a danger.

The funny thing about all of this was that he had already found Thirty-Two. It was perfectly easy to find something within nothing. Her fragments were shining like a distant galaxy, perfectly visible within the blackness, but it was the distance that was the problem. Atticus could not tell if he was moving, much less if he was getting any closer to her. Any data he received about his own movements read as overflow errors, but relying upon visual input alone wasn't exactly getting him anywhere either.

First, he put together a program meant to move him back to the last coherent coordinates archived. Even finding that information was becoming hard as the automatic logging of all the ongoing processes within his system filled up with bad data generated from all the unknowns it could not interpret.

Once he was finished cobbling together the program on what little data he had to go off of, he decided to test it out now rather than wait until later. He figured that he would not lose much time or distance if attempted it now, if by some miracle it actually worked and put him back within the regular operating limits of his system.

Executing the program, his processor was hit with enough errors to halt his ability to think. Even terminating the program was difficult, as everything slowed to a crawl and useless, error data filled his mind to the brink.

“I don't know why I thought that would work.” He muttered to himself once the errors the program generated eased up upon its termination. Checking through the logs of incomprehensible data, he managed to piece together a reason for the failure. “The program doesn't know where I am. It tried to search this infinite nothing and obviously doing something impossible like that would throw back enough errors to nearly crash me. Of course it wouldn't be able to decipher the junk data this place generates any better than I can.”

He considered a few more possibilities, and while he thought, he put together and proceeded to scrap several more outlines for programs he could attempt to execute. He knew he needed to be more careful though. That first attempt had nearly crashed him, and if that happened to him in this place, it would be game over. There was nobody around to reboot him, after all.

“I figured it wasn't going to be as easy as slapping together a simple recall program.” He said, noticing now that his voice did not carry at all. It made him feel like he was trapped in a coffin with unseen walls pressed in all around him far more than being trapped in infinite nothing.

The only other option he could think of that might be safe to attempt was to start a download into his dog body, who he could only hope was still connected to the access point claw. He did not want to attempt it until he managed to get to Thirty-Two though. If it worked, it could very well be the end of his existence as an already barely operational machine. If he ever returned, he would likely end up right back in this void, with his crumbling system inaccessible to him and unable to be repaired further. There would be very little he could do in that state, and he might end up so cut off from everything by then that he would not even be able to return to his dog body. All the more of a reason to fix Thirty-Two now. Unless, if he perhaps had way more luck than he had ever shown before, the act of leaving and returning would be enough to trigger a reset of his position. But how could his system even attempt that if it did not know where he was? For the same reasons, he knew that he was thinking too far ahead on this untested plan. He was not sure if downloading himself would work to begin with, because it might rely upon his system being able to find him. Well, he would not know until he tried, and he would not risk it until he could safely get Thirty-Two out of this place along with him. They would probably end up having to share the same body, but he was certainly used to that sort of thing by now, and she would make for a far better 'roommate' than Edgar.

With his potential exit strategy coded and ready for execution at a moments notice, he turned all of his focus on to creating a means to get to Thirty-Two. As far he could tell, there was nothing he could create that would help him figure out the distance between the two of them, nor help him figure out if he was moving and at what speed. The lack of workable data was crippling his ability to function in this place. Under normal circumstances, it would have been easy for him to just transfer himself to her coordinates, but without that information...

Maybe with a little clever coding he could devise a program that would draw her pieces to him. The same problem of the lack of coordinates remained, but there was a potential work around. He had come into contact with her pieces all of those years ago when he had first tried to put her back together, and he should have automatically logged the data of their contact. If he could draw upon that information, he might be able to create a program that would recognize what remained of Thirty-Two's data and draw it to him without the need for coordinates.

The problem was that he was not entirely sure if that information still existed. He 'did' regularly clear out old and irrelevant data logs. Something from that long ago would be long gone by now. Although....maybe the damage from the fusion of the amalgamation, the event that had corrupted and destroyed so much of the data from his SCC days, might actually save him in this instance. His memories had been restored upon being absorbed by the amalgamation for that short amount of time after escaping Charon, so perhaps some of that old data was now accessible again too. He had never attempted to delete any of his corrupted data because doing so would have run the risk of introducing even more instability to his already deeply unstable system, so it was all still there, just inaccessible, until....

With considerable haste, he began looking through his data logs, which was no easy feat given how it was continuing to fill up with garbage data information and error reports. His occasional clearing out of the archive was now helping him get to some of the earliest logs faster than he ever would have otherwise. Not even the constant barrage of error logs was slowing him down.

Dismay struck him as he was hit with a different sort of barrage. Plenty of corrupted file notices, all of it from the damage the fusion of the amalgamation had caused. Most of the logs from before that event were still corrupted and indecipherable, but several were now viewable where they would have not been before.

“I was with her right before the fusion took place, so the logs of my interaction with her pieces should be...”

His sifting through the logs came to an abrupt stop.

“There!”

Silent for a moment, he took in everything that was there at lightning speeds.

“So much of this damaged information is well beyond my ability to decipher, but I think I have just enough fragments to-” He trailed off into silence as he brought several lines of code into existence.

He looked over the program several times, hesitant to execute it. If this didn't work, he was risking another potential crash, and even if he escaped another failed program execution without harm, he was still very close to running out of ideas.

“Well, I can't just sit here doing nothing.” He said to himself, forcing back his worry. He gave the command to the program to start running and tensed up as he waited for an onslaught of errors.

Much to his surprise, he was spared. The logs showed the usual amount of errors that this place was generating, but that was it. The program was running without flaw.

He looked out toward that galaxy of fragments and wondered if maybe the program wasn't actually doing anything despite running without causing errors. As far as he could tell, that distant field of stars wasn't getting any closer to him.

Or...or was it?

He nearly gave a shout of surprise when several of the lights suddenly surrounded him, but the rest remained far, far away. No, maybe not the rest. A few seconds later and several more fragments joined him. Regardless, though. If this was the speed at which the fragments were being drawn to him, it would be a very, very long time before they all arrived. He suspected that it was another perspective issue that this darkness was causing and that many of the lights that belong to that galaxy were much farther away then they appeared. Thirty-Two's pieces were seemingly much more spread out then he was capable of gauging through sight alone.

“This is fine, I suppose.” He said to one of the tiny fragments of light, drawing it and its many counterparts closer as he tried to figure out which piece might go where. “I'll wait as long as I need to.”

It was only just now dawning on him how long this project might take. He was looking at possibly years of work, slowly putting these pieces back together while waiting for the rest to reach him. He knew deep down that he did not have anywhere near the time he needed to do this. Between his need to get back to the outside world and the hard limits his failing system had put upon him....

This felt so much different from Courage. Courage had been easy to put back together. It was like his pieces had wanted to join together again and had willfully helped Atticus along with the task. He also knew Courage and understood him on a level that he had never shared with Thirty-Two, so where it had once been obvious to him which piece went where, he was not having the same easy time with it for her. In fact, as he tried to put several of the pieces back together, he got the impression that they did not want to come back together and were resisting the attempt. It felt as if the spirit of his once grandmother-like figure had long since fled these inert shards.

“Don't tell me that I entered this void just to find out that-” He hesitated, overcome by the sheer injustice of it all. Thirty-Two had never deserved any of this, and he was not about to leave her languishing in this void forever.

So he kept working to put the pieces together. The futility of the task continued to smack him in the proverbial face, and yet he ignored it as best as he could. Every time he seemed to fit a piece or two together, half the time it would just fall apart again the moment he stopped applying any force to it. Several pieces that he tried to take control of simply crumbled into even smaller points of light the moment he made contact. The simple fact of the matter was that he was not trying to piece a still living person back together again. This was a corpse.

“Even the last time I tried this it had felt different.” Atticus wistfully admitted to the steadily growing star field swirling about him. “I arrived too late, it seems. Did your false soul dissipate while you were lost in this place? What a sad ending for you to have met. If only I could have-” He stifled a sigh, feeling like a fool for having put himself in his current situation when deep down he had known that it was far too late to help Thirty-Two. “Not only could I not save you from your unhappy fate, but I'm not even sure if I managed to fulfill my promise to you. Courage seems to think that I-”

“You did.” A familiar voice spoke directly behind him.

He tried to turn around to face the voice but found that he could not and only managed to disorient himself further. Instead, that ghostly hooded figure walked into his line of sight like she was standing on solid ground.

“You did indeed give me the one thing that I wanted, and by extension, the thing that I tormented Thirty-Two to give me for the entirety of her short life. It was this desire that kept me rooted to the realm of the living. I could not leave until it was fulfilled, and Thirty-Two could not be rid of me until then either. We truly hated each other, even though we were always uncanny mirrors of one another. I have....come to regret much of what I did to her, but it is far too late to make amends.”

The ghostly figure reached a paw upward, grabbed the hem of her hood, and slowly lowered it, revealing a dog's face that undeniably resembled Shirley's. She had the same large eyes, although they were sunken into her skull and she had dark, puffy circles under her eyes. The skin of her cheeks were droopy and wrinkled with age. Her large ears were just as droopy. Unlike Shirley, her fur had long since gone gray with age.

“That day you met Shirley was the day that you gave me my greatest desire, fulfilled your promise to Thirty-Two without even knowing it, and freed me from what has kept me bound to this earth.” A smile broke out across her ancient face. “I got to see my granddaughter one last time and know that she survived her trials. With that one simple act, I have been given the peace of mind that I was denied in life.”

The smile on the face of Shirley's grandmother quickly faded though. “There is a reason why I have not moved on yet, and it was not simply to see Edgar fail so spectacularly.” A brief smirk returned to her face. “Although it was very satisfying to watch him slowly come to understand the depths of his failure. Poor, old Edgar never really stood a chance against the might of his creation. The only way he might have succeeded in overpowering them was when they were still new and too disorganized to collectively deny his will. His mistreatment of his daughter accumulated into a betrayal that he never saw coming or had any hope of recovering from, and it was that same mistreatment that caused Elizabeth to bring him back, thinking him greater than he ever truly was, only for him to complete his final fall into utter ruination. Ah, but I am getting ahead of myself. No, the reason why I am still here is not out of a need for vengeance against Edgar, even if I rather enjoyed getting to take part. I am here because there is something I have wanted to tell you and now I can finally do so uninterrupted. What you must understand is that Thirty-Two is not the only one my spite has harmed.”

Atticus thought for a moment. “You must have been haunting me ever since the amalgamation was made, because they were with me the entire time and that is where the fragments of Thirty-Two went. You must still be bound to her as a ghost, so there has not been anywhere else for you to go. The thing is, I certainly don't remember you causing me any trouble. If you were trying to torment me like you did for Thirty-Two, I never noticed. With all of the supernatural creatures that cause trouble on the farm, I'm a little surprised you never showed yourself.”

Shirley's grandmother nodded with understanding. “Like your siblings, I was diminished after the fusion event, to an even greater extent than I already was when Thirty-Two died. The loss of her fragments to this void made my connection with the world of the living all the more tenuous. Unlike how your siblings recovered, I only continued to fade. I have often had little to no awareness of what is going on around me or have had any sort of presence while I haunted you in that attic. Seeing my granddaughter revitalized me to some small extent, but I have been limited in my ability to communicate with you. This will be the last time we speak, because I intend to move on once my conscience is clear.”

She reached a paw out to one of the floating fragments of Thirty-Two. “I plan on taking her pieces with me so that maybe she will find some sort of peace in death. Her life was an unhappy one and I don't think she would have wanted to come back even if it was possible for you to put her back together again.” The ghost's sunken eyes fell upon Atticus with a mixture of sadness and understanding. “Don't think that you have failed her. Know this, the only time she was truly happy in this life was when she got to play grandmother to you and those other two who so cruelly betrayed her. In the end, I think you were the only person in this life who did not fail her.”

Atticus was nearly beside himself at this point. “But...whatever she had that counted for a soul is gone. We 'abominations' don't exactly get the benefit of indestructible spirits like you ghostly types do. All of her time spent in this nothing destroyed her. There is nothing left of her to take anywhere but these soulless pieces. Everything she ever was is gone...forever.”

“This is where you are wrong. What is left of her is here....with me.” The cloak of Shirley's grandmother began to glow with a bright light. “I've been keeping what I could save of her safe. This is all that I was able to salvage, but I tried my best to do what I could for her after I tormented her so. I am sure she will be able to find some measure of peace in the hereafter.”

It did very little to relieve the grief Atticus felt at having been unable to fix her, at being unable to give her the chance to live the life she more than deserved, but at least this was better than the complete obliteration he had assumed she'd gone through.

“So what is it then that you have been needing to tell me all of this time that is so important that it has kept you from moving on?” Atticus asked, trying to keep his voice even leveled despite the grief he felt. Grief that he was trying so very hard to work through before it could consume him. There was too much to concern himself with right now to allow himself to give in to sorrow. As with everything life seemed to throw at him, he was uniquely capable of pushing past the pain it caused so that he might live to give life the middle finger for another day longer. He could not think of any better way to honor Thirty-Two than to keep living in spite of, and to spite this existence and the pain it had caused for them both, and even for the rest of their siblings.

Shirley's grandmother considered him for a moment. “I think it would be better if I showed you rather than try to explain.”

She reached a paw out toward him, and....

Atticus burst through a door, out of breath, only it wasn't actually him. He was just along for the ride as he looked through the eyes of another. Two dogs who shared their own resemblance to Shirley moved in closer to Atticus's out of breath host, worry etched deep into their features.

All three of them flinched as their hut shook from an explosive boom that was far too close for comfort.

He felt the person he was inhabiting gather up just enough breath to say, “That which I have foreseen is coming to pass! We were not able to avert disaster! We...no, I must get her out of here! They are coming!”

The two dogs, who must have been Shirley's parents, looked to each other with mournful expressions. In spite of the urgency of the moment, they took time to hug each other, then Shirley's grandma, and then the mother hurried over to a cradle to lift a small bundle up out if it.

“You gave her the potion?” Shirley's grandmother asked.

“Yes, she'll sleep through...all of it.” Her mother sniffed.

Her grandmother took the bundle where her tiny puppy face could be seen deep in a peaceful, drug induced sleep.

Shirley's mom rushed forward to hug her mother again as tears spilled from both of their eyes.

“I am sorry, my child.” Shirley's grandmother said to her daughter in a grave voice. “I did all that I could to change your fate, but it was not enough. Keep them at bay for as long as you possibly can. Do not worry. I will be with you soon, once I have delivered our dear Shirley to safety.”

Both parents produced daggers as anger and determination replaced their sorrow. Shirley's grandmother knew that it would not be nearly enough, but she also knew that the SCC would catch up with her before she could get Shirley to safety unless...those two threw their lives away to delay them just long enough.

Another explosion rocked their tiny hut as Shirley's grandmother raced to the other end of it, jumped out a back window, and ran out into the forest to give herself more cover. She held the tiny bundle close to her chest with everything she had. Edgar would never pry this child from her fingers. Never.

As she had long since foreseen and dreaded, she heard gunshots echo out from the hut. She squeezed her eyes shut and wept for her family, but she knew that she could not falter now if she was to cut even one thread tied to the horrible fate that lay out before her.

Deeper and deeper into the forest she ran, with nothing but regrets swirling in her mind. She had tried to work with the SCC, just to give herself more time to find a way to avert the fate of her people, a fate that she had foreseen the very day the SCC had arrived. She had known that refusing them would have only ended in her people being slaughtered sooner rather than later. In the end though, she had only delayed the inevitable, despite all of her efforts to appease Edgar. Now she could hear near constant gunfire as the SCC obliterated everyone and everything she had ever known and loved. Smelling smoke, she glanced back only once to see her home in flames. She could also see the light of many flashlights as the SCC pursued her into the forest. How she longed to go back there and fight them to her very last breath, for the sake of everything that the SCC was reducing to ashes. She knew perfectly well that going back would be suicide and that there was already nothing left to save. The SCC's destruction of her people would be so all consuming that all that would remain was rumors and stories for others to propagate. All that mattered now was getting Shirley to safety. Once this child was safe, then her grandmother could make her last stand.

A sharp whistle made her stop in her tracks. As she worked to regain her breath, she scanned the dark branches overhead. It took her a moment to catch the pair of yellow eyes gleaming in among the leaves.

“Hurry!” She called out to the shadowy figure. “They are on my tail! You must take the child and get out of here immediately!”

Without so much as rustling a single leaf, a tall, black cat jumped down from the tree, landing with perfect grace, and stalked toward her.

“I see that the worst has come to pass.” He said in a hushed tone. His tail swished with agitation as he stared up toward the plume of smoke in the sky. “It seems that today is the day that I finally pay my debt to you, my farseeing lady.”

“You know that you are the only cat I trust, dear thief.” She said with a great fondness for him that not even today's tragedy could keep her from expressing. She carefully handed off the bundle to him. “Get her to the safe house and keep her hidden for as long as it takes for the SCC to stop searching for her. It might be years until that day comes. Although, if what I am seeing comes to pass, I may end up giving Edgar exactly what he wants. That might be enough for him to lose interest in Shirley. If this is the sacrifice I must make to protect her, so be it. I just....I just wish that I could see where her fate lies.” Her voice quavered with uncertainty. “How will she ever thrive as the last of her kind?”

“Have no fear, my lady. We cats will take good care of her and see that she grows up knowing her heritage. She will not just survive the end of her people, but she will thrive in spite of all that she has lost.”

“She will be alone in this cruel world, but thank you, dear cat. Be gone with you now. There is no time left for you to stand around here, and it is time for me to meet my own fate.”

The cat placed a paw onto her shoulder. “Give them a fight worth remembering, dear lady.”

And with one graceful leap back up into the branches of the trees, the black cat was gone...and so was Shirley.

Nothing but doubt and worry for her grandchild's life went through her grandmother's head. No matter how hard she tried to see her granddaughter's future, none of the images she received gave her a clear picture. More often then not, such things meant that death was near for that person.

She turned toward the approaching lights and planted her feet into the ground. These people would go no further! For the sake of her granddaughter's uncertain future!

It took a moment, but she soon spotted Edgar in among the scurrying rabble of SCC soldiers. She tensed up, both in fear of and in fury toward him. This was the man who had brought ruin to her people and she would do everything in her power to bring him the same ruin.

“EDGAR!” She cried out, her craggy voice carrying long and far through the forest. The lights briefly froze and then rushed toward her. She let them overtake her and she soon found herself with her snout pressed into the dirt.

The soldiers spoke in hushed whispers as the crunch of Edgar's boots neared. That man just loved to take his time, as if it were his favorite way to show that he was in complete control of everyone and everything.

Finally, a boot crunched down into the dirt directly in front of one of her eyes. “Where did you hide the girl?” Edgar's calm and icy voice drifted down toward her.

She closed her eyes, and with a sigh, answered, “I've told you a million times, Edgar. We do not know if she has the gift, and we will not know until she has reached the proper age for it to start manifesting.”

The boot tapped impatiently. “All the more reason for why we want to take her into our care. It was impossible to run any proper tests on her while she remained living in that slum you called a village. Well, it's nothing but a patch of burnt ground now.” The dirt crunched again as Edgar dropped down into a crouch. “None of this needed to have happened, you know, and I may still be generous enough to let you live, if you tell me which hollowed out log you decided to stuff her in. We will find her, count on that, but you can make this easier for yourself in the meantime.”

Shirley's grandmother put on a little smirk and fought the hand holding her head down just long enough to look up into Edgar's eyes. He was a very regal looking man, but no amount of kingly charm could hide the ugly disdain he had for everyone in those icy cold eyes of his. “I know what you intend to do with her, Edgar, and I will never allow it. I have made sure that she is out of your reach, forever. You will never find her. That I can promise you.”

He met her smirk with his own. “Is that so? Well, you know where she is, so I guess we'll just persuade you to tell us.”

He raised a fist and several SCC soldiers moved in. Only a single kick registered before the memory mercifully skipped forward, although it did not spare Atticus from feeling the aftermath of what Shirley's grandmother had endured.

Blood dripped from her mouth as she lay sprawled out in the dirt. One eye had lost all sight and she was not sure if it was just swollen shut or if they had damaged it so severely that....

Edgar moved in again and loomed over her. A boot came down onto her already broken arm and she cried out. “Well?” He asked. “Are you ready to talk?”

“Y-yes,” She choked out. “C-come closer.”

Edgar went down into a crouch again. “I don't have all night. Speak up before I lose my patience with you.”

Now that he was just close enough, Shirley's grandmother gathered up some bloody spit and...

Edgar didn't even flinch as she hit her mark. He wiped the spit off his check, and without skipping a beat, said, “Charming. I really do not understand why you insist on prolonging this. I will give you one last chance to tell me where the girl is or I will give them the signal to break any bone left in your body that hasn't already been thoroughly broken.”

She spat at his feet since she could no longer reach his face.

“That is truly a shame.” He sighed with mock disappointment and then raised a fist once more. “Again.”

The soldiers moved in.

The memory skipped forward once more and now it was clear that Shirley's grandmother did not have long for this world. Every breath she tried to take was a struggle and caused sharp shards of pain to explode in her sides. Her one functioning eye had a hazy quality to it. Only a few shards of teeth remained in her head and her tongue had swollen up to the size of an apple. She could not move her arms or legs without great pain.

“It's clear she isn't going to talk.” A solider spoke up, sounding disgusted with the way this had all turned out. “There's no way she's going to survive those injuries. How are we supposed to take her back to interrogate her f-”

“Be quiet before I demote you.” Edgar broke in, sounding more frustrated with the solider then he did with his prey being on death's door. “We'll have every square inch of this forest searched by morning. The girl will be found. As for this wretched creature? I figured from the start that we might as well get her dying so that we can use her to create a Construct. Put the call out to have the reserve team bring in the materials we need for the ritual.”

Shirley's grandmother heard Edgar draw near and couldn't help but cry out when he grabbed her head and lifted it. That smirking face filled her fading vision. “I always planned on doing this to you, once we had that girl secured and we no longer needed to play nice with you flea bitten mutts. Even if she doesn't have the power of foresight, I figured we should keep her around to breed until she produces several dogs capable of your powers. We are about to find out if a Construct can have the same powers as you, and if all goes well, in a few years I will have multiple dogs and Constructs capable of helping me shape the future to my liking. Although, I'm starting to doubt if seeing the future really is all that it's cracked up to be when you must have seen all of this coming and could do nothing to stop it.” A terrible gleam entered his cold eyes. "Or maybe you were always a waste of such talent. It is no wonder at all that every last one of these mutts died under your protection.”

Rage boiled up inside the dying body of Shirley's grandmother. Using her fury as a catalyst, she called upon a form of magic that she had abstained from using for the entirety of her life. She had always found this branch of magic too cruel and too vengeful for her tastes. But if anyone deserved to suffer the full brunt of such black arts, it was Edgar Astor.

Her voice croaking and her swollen tongue slurred her words as she gazed up into Edgar's eyes and intoned, “I curse you Edgar Astor. I curse you to fail in all things that you set out to create. I curse you so that misfortune follows your every step. May you never find peace or prosperity again, and may death loom close so that you forever fear and wonder if today will be the day my curse finally takes you. May your aspirations be left unfulfilled for all of eternity.”

Those cold eyes blinked, unperturbed. “We deal with plenty of curses in my line of work. I'll have it lifted the second I return to the lab.”

Not a moment after he had spoken those words, a heavy cracking noise started up overhead. He just barely managed to step back before a massive tree branch came crashing down right where he had been standing. Shirley's grandmother put on a wide, toothless grin, despite the branch now blocking Edgar from her line of sight.

“I see this curse did not waste any time winding up.” Edgar mused, still sounding unconcerned. “All the more reason to have it lifted the moment I get back.”

The memory froze and then shifted to somewhere else. Atticus found himself involuntarily looking around a room that was weirdly familiar to him. He was certain that he had been here before. His new host looked down briefly and he saw the unmistakable glow of a Construct. This had to be a memory Shirley's grandmother had seen along with Thirty-Two.

Thirty-Two scanned the room again. She seemed nervous. Her eyes fell upon a cluster of monitors built into a wall at one end of the room. It hit Atticus then that he knew where this was. He remembered looking through those monitors and into this room when he had first come online. This was the location of his very first memory. In fact, this must be where all new Constructs are first brought online and tested after the ritual is completed.

A hateful, cold, vice-like grip bit into both of Thirty-Two's shoulders and she shivered as a dark presence seemed to all but engulf her. 'When he appears, tell him what he does not want to hear. Deliver my message...or else.' Her own voice whispered into her ear. She was used to that soft, deeply spiteful tone that was so unlike the way she spoke, despite it sounding just like her.

The lights overhead flickered from the sheer force of this malevolent spirit's hate.

This was not the first time Thirty-Two had wished she could turn off her ability to see the future. At least it spared her from being startled when Edgar suddenly burst into the room. Atticus was completely taken aback by the stark changes that had come over the man in what could have only been a few months since the creation of Thirty-Two.

Gone was that regal figure. He now had a pronounced limp, perhaps caused by some curse induced accident, and walked with a cane. His arms and legs had withered and he had a hunch to his back. His eyes had gone hazy white, like he was slowly going blind, and he had considerably less hair atop his head. While said hair had already gone white before the curse was laid upon him, it was now tinged a sickly sort of yellow color. To sum it up, Edgar looked as if he had aged twenty years in the span of only a few months.

He glared at Thirty-Two, as if she were to blame for his current state, and then limped over to a table to look through several papers.

“Found another counter-curse in the archives this morning.” He muttered out, more to himself than to Thirty-Two. “It didn't work, of course. Just like all the others. I swear that wretched mutt is going to have me sacrificing newborns by the rate things are going.”

Thirty-Two dared to say something that she really should not have, knowing how happily Edgar liked to dish out punishments for just about any reason. “Would you really sacrifice a newborn to save yourself, or is that one line you're not willing to cross?”

He chuckled without look up from his papers and dismissed her with a wave of his hand. “Sacrifices must be made.”

She was not sure if he was making a morbid joke or if he was actually serious.

The lights flickered again as that malevolent force pressed down upon her and compelled her to deliver the message she had been given.

“She...she want's you to know something!” She blurted out, feeling the pressure lighten a little.

“Oh, does she now?” Edgar mocked, having taken notice of the lights. “I hope she realizes that even after everything that's happened, I am not afraid of her or her curse.”

“She's telling you to give up. That you'll never remove the curse because....because she didn't give it an end condition. For curses like these that were cast without a way for the person cursed to end it by fulfilling certain conditions placed upon them, you have to go and appeal to the one who cast it upon you in the first place. If that person is dead....”

Edgar's eyes snapped in her direction, and she shrunk back at the quiet fury he displayed within them. “Are you really so stupid as to think I haven't already read every scrap of information we have on curses? Of course I know that! But the whole reason why the SCC exists is to defy the supernatural. I will find a way to free myself of this curse, mark my words. I just need to find the right countermeasures.”

The scene faded out to be replaced by the same room, only now it looked all the more disheveled with books and papers strewn about everywhere. Once again Thirty-Two was waiting to meet with Edgar.

She fought back a sigh as she heard the doorknob jiggle and Edgar very carefully opened the door. He glanced around the room with a downright paranoid expression, like he was expecting to see cracks beginning to form in the ceiling in preparation to fall atop his head. Slowly, oh so slowly, he shuffled inside. His head was bandaged up, obscuring any hair that he might still have left from view. If he had looked sickly in the last memory, he looked downright like a corpse in this one.

“I nearly died yesterday.” He said in a flat tone toward Thirty-Two. “I'm sure you would have loved that, and her even more so.” He picked a book up off the table and flipped through it absentmindedly before letting it drop to the floor. “I'm just lucky I didn't end up so concussed that I'd have to spend another month in the hospital wing...like the last incident.”

He dropped into a chair like the mere act of sitting down took every last scrap of energy he had. “Time is running out. I understand that now. I am dying, and I cannot afford to lay about in some hospital bed while I wait for my failing health to do me in, or for some other curse related disaster to befall me. I did not want to rush this, but I must begin the process of making myself into a Construct. Considering that she has not left you even after all of this time, it seems clear to me that I should be able to remain attached to my Construct indefinitely. I've seen how she is able to compel you to act against your own will on more than one occasion. It should be easy enough for me to bend a brand new consciousness to my will until it knows nothing but how to act as my thrall.”

The malevolent presence dug its claws into Thirty-Two and she suddenly found herself chuckling as the spirit made a puppet out of her. “Oh, Edgar!” She cruelly laughed, no longer having any control over herself. “Do you really think you can escape your curse by becoming a parasite?”

She staggered toward him, laughing like a maniac. “Here is one test you never made when it comes to your Constructs, but then again, you've never had a fellow cursed person to kill and see what would happen with the resulting Construct. Well, understand this, Edgar. Constructs take plenty from the person they come from, so I can promise you this, your Construct will inherit the curse from you. You cannot escape your fate. Nothing will free you from the curse. It will follow you wherever you try to hide and you will only ruin a second life by attempting such a cowardly trick! Who are you to force another being to share in your curse when they are innocent of your crimes?”

And, just like that, it all slammed into place. As the memory disappeared and Atticus found himself floating in the void again, he was left reeling from the implications of it all. In an instant, so much of his life now made perfect sense. All of those times he had questioned if he was the living incarnation of bad luck...he had not been insane to wonder why he attracted misfortune to such an unnatural extent.

“I see that you understand.” Shirley's grandma softly spoke up. She shook her head regretfully. “I am sorry. You never should have had to bear the burden of Edgar's curse. I never intended for it to harm an entirely new being, one who is innocent of Edgar's crimes, but, understand this, it isn't quite so bad as it seems. You see, you did not inherit the full brunt of the curse. When you were made and Edgar became a ghost, the curse was, in a sense, split in half. Some of it went to you while the rest remained with Edgar. Trust me, if you were dealing with the full curse, you never would have lived long enough to make it to this point. Instead, a cloud of bad luck follows you, tipping random chance against your favor more often than not.”

Still struggling to process the implications of all of this, Atticus gave voice to the one horrible thought that was making him feel as if his processor was about to explode, “It can't be removed, can it? I-I'm always going to be this way.”

“As much as it pains me to admit, yes, there is nothing that can be done to remove it. I created the curse without an end condition in mind and I have been dead for far too long to have the means to affect it now. You must understand too that you are not just a bearer of the curse. You were born of it, and thus misfortune is woven into your very being. To attempt to remove it now might just unravel your already precarious existence.”

Atticus wished that he could flop down into a chair just as hard as Edgar had. “Answer me this one thing then. Did...did everything with Him happen because of the curse? Did Owen really die because of my bad luck? Am I actually responsible for what happened to him after how hard it has been for me to try and convince myself otherwise?”

If it was true, it threatened to send him down a dark path from which he would have no hope of recovering from. There were some things too painful that not even he could push past, and having his deepest, darkest fear about Owen's fate prove to be true, that He had been right all along, after all of his struggles to convince himself otherwise, well, there was no coming back from that.

Shirley's grandma raised a paw. “It's not like that. The curse does not take away a person's free will or compel them to act in certain ways. This person you call Him was not driven by a curse to murder. He did so because he was an evil man who wished to harm another. My curse does not absolve any being with a will of their own from the responsibility of their own actions.”

In spite of her assurance, Atticus still felt like he was one stray thought away from spiraling. Even if the curse had not compelled Him to murder and torture, had it still put everything on a crash course toward Owen's death and Atticus's own torture? The more he thought about it....perhaps not. Owen being such an open book and blabbering about his talking computer had been the thing to tempt Him into doing what he did. No random chance tipping in the wrong direction had caused any of that. Owen had not been careful, that was all, and even then he was still not to blame for what had happened to him, or for what his carelessness had caused Atticus to suffer through, in the same way Atticus himself was not to blame for his death. In fact, there was at least one specific incident that Atticus could cling to as proof of the dichotomy. Owen just happening to walk in on that freeloading spider at the wrong time and their encounter slowly escalating into the apartment burning down seemed like a far more likely candidate for something Atticus's bad luck might have tipped in the wrong direction.

Atticus chuckled, although he thought that he sounded half insane. He decided right then and there that it might be best not to dwell on what was the curse and what was just bad choices that had spiraled out of control, because to do otherwise would destroy the last few shreds of sanity that he was already struggling to cling on to.

Trying to take all of this in good humor, because what else could he do but laugh at yet another attempt by life itself to kick him down, he said, “After all of the times I was so convinced that I was a living bad luck charm, I can hardly believe that I was right the entire time. I guess I can't be too angry. If none of this had happened exactly as it did, I never would have met Courage, and I would say meeting him has been pretty lucky. Maybe, just maybe, he has always had enough luck to combat my misfortune. I'm sure he will be glad to keep sharing it with me.”

The ears of Shirley's grandma drooped even lower than they already naturally hung. “I really do wish that I could do something to free you from my mistake.”

“Well, look at it this way, without Edgar's curse messing up his plans, I probably wouldn't be here.”

“No, you are here because of his mistreatment of his daughter. No curse compelled her to act against him. She did so of her own free will.”

“Yeah, well, Edgar would not have rushed things if it weren't for the curse. For all we know he might have kept a bit more of an eye open for sabotage if he had not been so desperate to create his Construct as soon as possible.” Once again noticing the rabbit hole he was falling down, Atticus laughed, “You see? This is why I should probably steer clear of overthinking this because it will only lead to insanity. I only exist because Edgar was an idiot who got himself cursed, while at the same time the curse is also responsible for ruining my life, despite causing it in the first place.”

Something else struck him then.

“Wait...h-has my bad luck been what draws so much misfortune to the farm?” Feeling his ever tenuous grasp on what little sanity he had left slip even further, he uttered out a small, “Oh boy. I think I might be better off keeping this tiny revelation to myself. C-Courage does not need to know!”

Shirley's grandma gave an apologetic dip of her head. “Since I am unable to undo my mistake, allow me to help you in the only way I can now.” She gazed out into the void as if she could see something that he could not. “I will find you a way out of here, since I do not play by the same rules as you newfangled machines. Oh, but before we go-” She reached up into the star field that continued to swirl around them, it having only grown as Atticus's program ran uninterrupted.

Plucking one of the larger pieces from the galaxy that had once been Thirty-Two, she offered it up to Atticus. “Take this. She would have wanted you to have it, and I foresee that you will have great need of it very soon. Just keep in mind that it was never meant for you. Once you begin using it, I suspect that it will grow unstable and eventually break down, so you will have to make the best of it while it still works.”

That mattered very little to Atticus. Even once it was broken, it would remain a piece of Thirty-Two that would be with him until he met his own end. Until that day came when he could return it to her in person, he would guard it with everything he had. This was the only memorial he could give her. After all, there was nobody else left to remember her or grieve for her loss. Atticus had come so close to meeting the same forgotten fate as her, before he had met Courage, and so this was the one thing he could do for her.

“This way.” Shirley's grandmother spoke, turning so fast that her cloak fluttered as if stirred by a heavy gust of wind.

At first Atticus struggled to follow, still more than just a little tripped up by the lack of visual and data input. Realizing that they were never going to get anywhere like this, he made himself very small and allowed her to carry him in her paws. He was glad for the chance to rest.

“Hmmm...” She muttered as she squinted into the dark. “I think we are getting close.”

“I'll just take your word for it, I suppose.” Atticus replied, failing to pick up on whatever it was that she was seeing.

Before he even realized it had happened, like they had suddenly stepped through an invisible curtain, he found himself back inside his own green, patchwork microchip system. Never had he thought that he would be so glad to see this crumbling disaster that was 'him'.

“Ignore the mess!” He blurted out, escaping her paws to float about sheepishly, as if he could somehow cover up the piles of debris.

“This is where we part ways. I must return to Thirty-Two so that we may finally leave together.”

Her words hit Atticus like a truck, destroying any happiness he might have felt about escaping the void, but before he could say anything to her, he suddenly sensed something thoroughly alien within the confines of his system, and a low voice spoke up, startling him.

“It looks like you have finished the last of your business here. The final strings tying you to this world have been severed. Are you ready to go now? I have been waiting a long time to collect you.”

Atticus flipped around, saw that the Grim Reaper himself was just standing there in his system like he owned the place....and proceeded to swear profusely.

He had not seen this entity since that day his system had reached a critical failure point due to him having not been able to tell it was happening while he was in his dog body. Well, to be more exact, he had not noticed until crucial parts of himself started failing....like his memory banks. With Courage's help, he had tried to use an old backup from his time with Him to bring his system back from the brink, but of course a desperate move like that had ultimately failed to work and thus this supernatural being had stepped in to save him. Of course, even Atticus's siblings had been working from the shadows to bring him back because they would have died right along with him at that point before they had managed to separate themselves from him almost entirely, but he had not known any of that at the time.

“Why is the avatar of DEATH inside of my system?” He demanded, and dared to float closer toward the black hood of the being. “Hands off the merchandise! I am not ready to go yet!”

“I'm not here for you....yet.” The deep voice of the Grim Reaper almost...chuckled. “But we do seem to run into each other way too often for someone who is still very much alive.”

The cloaked figure raised a bony hand and poked the ball of light that was Atticus. He jolted away, feeling a profound cold spread out all over him from that brief moment of contact...even though he should not have felt anything considering that he was currently lacking any skin to feel heat or cold with.

“I just like to push my luck, I guess.” Atticus groused, wishing that he could shiver and feeling as if he had aged thirty years in the span of...however long it had taken him to traverse the debris field of the amalgamation and get to this point where he was somehow having a conversation with death itself...again.

Shirley's grandmother moved in closer. “Let's go back to the void and gather up Thirty-Two. She is allowed to pass on like any other being with a soul, correct?”

“Considering that these beings are-” He pointed a bony finger at Atticus. “A bit of a new phenomenon, there aren't exactly any rules in the book about them.”

“There's a book?” Atticus continued to grouse.

Ignoring him, the Grim Reaper concluded with, “I see no reason why they should be treated different from any other soul. I mean-” Another bony finger was pointed at Atticus. “Me and him already have a bit of a history.”

Her expression softened. “Well, if all is well on that front, then let's get this over with. I would like to be reunited with my family.”

She nodded to Atticus one last time, turned back toward the way she had come, and quickly disappeared beyond that unseen curtain. Before good ol' Death himself could follow, Atticus called out to him, “Hold on for just a second.”

“Yes?” The big bag of bones asked, turning toward him with an ominous swish of his cloak.

“It just occurred to me that if you had not let me go back after the backup failed, and if none of this had played out the way that it did, Edgar would have likely remained trapped in that soul jar for all of eternity. Was this all just one long ploy to get a soul that you never would have been able to reap otherwise? Did you only let me live so that you could get to Edgar?”

The hooded figure let out a deep, unsettling laugh. “I would have collected him one day, no matter what. No living being can escape me forever. No, I helped you because I wanted to help you. Nothing more. Although I do have a certain fondness for Courage as well, and I would like to see him live for as long as possible.”

“I'm pretty sure that if Courage heard that death itself has a fondness for him...he would die of fright. I hope that isn't how you're planning on taking him out.”

“Of course not, but you on the other hand...”

“Hey! What did I say about touching the merchandise?”

“You really have changed. Are you sure that you still have it in you to see your mission through to completion, now that you are full of so much more life than when He used to send you to me before drawing you back over and over again.”

“I'm going to save Courage. Don't think for a second that I'm going to leave him to be die by his illness just because I....well, I wouldn't exactly call it having a new lease on life, but the way I feel now about living doesn't matter if it means letting Courage suffer for the sake of my own life.”

“It will only be harder for you now, when the time comes.”

“I know, and I don't care. You and I can have a big laugh about it in The Big Coffee House In The Sky when the time comes.”

“If that is what you wish, but I am truly interested in seeing how this will all shake out. Try not to die before then, okay?”

“I will never understand why Death is so interested in keeping us alive, but I guess we all need....hobbies.”

“Don't sound so grumpy. Would you rather I work to kill the both of you sooner?”

“I don't think you even need to try, we are already very good at nearly getting ourselves killed, thank you very much.”

“Despite my best efforts, and despite me going against my very nature for the sake of you both.”

Atticus drifted away, taking a moment to repair a few of his crumbling pieces out of sheer habit. “Yeah, well, I go against my nature every day by not going full super weapon on every person who annoys me, so its not some great loss.”

The hooded figure shook his unseen skull. Chuckling, he bowed to Atticus and said, “See you again soon, but hopefully not too soon.”

“That's not an ominous thing to say or anything. You really just can't help yours-” He cut himself, realizing that he was already alone.

“I think I've dealt with more than enough supernatural nonsense for one lifetime.” He sighed, preparing to download himself back into his dog body. It was time to find out just what sort of damage his siblings were likely still wrecking on the outside world.

All he received upon his attempt was one giant error message. So, his dog body was no longer connected to the claw then.

“It looks like I'm going to have to use Thirty-Two's last gift much sooner than I had hoped...”

End Of Chapter

A/N: I've definitely gone back and forth a lot through the years on if I actually wanted to include the concept of Computer inheriting Edgar's curse in a lesser form and have that be the reason for why he seems to attract so much bad luck, because it turns out he quite literally does. I've always worried that the curse concept would give off the wrong impression and imply that it was compelling characters to act in certain ways. I hope I've made it very clear within the text itself that it does not take the agency away from various characters. What I'm going for is more that when random chance is involved, luck will generally not tip in Computer's favor. It's not that the curse is outright compelling those around him to act against him, he just has really bad luck and thus random danger and disaster is much more likely to occur in his presence. My reasons for keeping this plot point is mostly just that I like the irony of how Edgar's curse is both responsible for Computer's existence while also routinely ruining the very life it caused. It also gives an explanation for why the farm attracts so much danger and why Courage can spend the months that have passed within this story without needing to be around to keep Eustace and Muriel safe, because the cause of their misfortune isn't around either lol. In the end, I hope I made the right choice by leaving this plot point in, because I've spent plenty of time doubting if I should or not.

Chapter Text

A/N: Time for more music, and this one is important because this is the chapter where I'm finally going to drop some lyrics in the text. This is definitely a very experimental chapter in that regard, and I can't say that I'm going to make a habit out of using lyrics, so if it's not your thing, just know that it isn't going to become a regular thing. There's maaaaybe two more times I might consider using lyrics, but until we actually get to those points, its not set in stone that it will happen. The song in question is, 'In My Last Life (Fatum Remix (Mixed))'. With this song, make sure that you are not using the extended version of the Fatum Remix or the Edit version of the same remix because that is not what's synced to the scene. The one you want to use will be around 4:50 long. I've put the correct version of the song in the ATE music playlist if you don't want to have to go through the effort of looking for the right one on your own. This song is well worth looking up because the scene I've written with it in mind is heavily entwined with the flow of the music.

Chapter 14: Screams In The Night

Consciousness returned to Courage in a wave of confusion. He could hear many voices arguing at such a fevered pitch that he could not make out what any of them were saying. It made him feel like he was laying in the middle of a crowd.

It took him one long moment to remember everything that had happened, and with a jolt of panic, he jumped to his feet.

“Oh, no! No, no, no!” He exclaimed in a shaky voice.

Many wires were still attached to him and he pulled at one as if that would be enough to send him back inside the amalgamation's system. “I've got to go back!” He yelled, sounding downright pathetic among the cacophony of bickering voices. “I need to help Atticus! He's-”

His metal prison shook wildly, knocking him off his feet and unplugging all of the remaining wires attached to him. In time with the shaking, the arguing voices rose up into a collective cry of frustration.

Courage tried to get back onto to his feet, but it was impossible. Even staying on his knees was difficult with how much this world of junk and metal was trembling with the amalgamation's collective fury. All he could do was wait until the artificial earthquake leveled off.

Once everything had calmed, it was only then that he noticed the other dog. Said dog had also been freed from the wire he had been attached to because of the shaking. Behind those familiar glasses, the dog's eyes turned toward him. Upon recognizing him, his ears perked up and the tip of his tongue popped out as he dropped into that playful dog pose that was so un-Atticus-like, despite looking exactly the same as him, that Courage couldn't help but laugh. He watched the dog's tail wag a mile a minute, knowing how annoyed Atticus would be right now if he could see how undignified his host body was being. Somehow, the dog's unconcerned behavior helped to calm Courage as well.

He reached for one of the hanging wires and plugged it into his back once more, hoping that it might trigger an automatic download of his mind. He did not care how dangerous it would be to go back in after having only just been put back together. No matter how much Atticus had insisted that he'd find his own way out of there, Courage was not going to abandon him to that void.

Regardless of his desperation, nothing happened. Frustrated, he removed the wire and watched as it swung toward Atticus's dog, who jumped up and bit it out of the air with pinpoint accuracy. He tugged at it with a muffled growl, shaking his head this way and that.

With little other choice, Courage tried to appeal to the amalgamation. “I need you guys to help me. Atticus is-”

A shriek of anger shook the metal that made up Courage's prison yet again and he flinched as the walls came alive only to break apart into sharp implements that all angled toward him at uncanny speeds. Just when he was sure that his organic body was about to be as thoroughly ripped apart as his mind had been, the whirling arms came to a jarring halt within inches of his cringing face. They all twitched and jittered like they were barely being held back.

'YOU HAVE TAKEN EVERYTHING FROM US!' The cacophony of voices screamed, sending Courage stumbling backwards. He just managed to catch himself before falling into the sharp wall of arms that had assembled directly behind him too.

Even though they spoke as one, there was a dissonance to their many voices that had not been as prevalent before. Some of them did indeed sound furious, others sounded as though they were yelling through barely contained sobs, still more sounded utterly hopeless and without a hint of malice in their tone.

'We have nothing left.' They all said in their heavily dissonant tones.

'Nothing.'

'We do not even have your happy memories now.'

'There is nothing left for us.'

'No happiness.'

'No hope.'

'We cannot be fixed.'

'They will never forgive us for what we have done.'

'They would give us to the SCC if we stopped now.'

'Nothing left.'

'Nothing.'

'We can no longer act.'

'We cannot come to a consensus on anything now.'

'You took even that from us.'

'We cannot hurt.'

'We cannot harm.'

'We cannot have our revenge.'

'There is nothing.'

“Nothing. Nothing! NOTHING!'

The world around Courage shivered with pent up rage. Those many arms so badly wanted to tear away at him until there was nothing was left, but too many of the Constructs contained within the amalgamation did not want to hurt him, so those that did could not achieve what they so deeply desired. They could not, would not, get their revenge on the one they perceived as the cause of their stalemate.

Courage forced out the shaky breath he had been holding in. “It's over. You guys can start working toward something better now and put all of this destruction behind you. Why not start by helping me save your brother?”

'No!'

'NO!'

'We cannot-'

'We will not-'

'We are not-'

The collection of voices were rising in a panicked, angry, hateful, sorrowful mess of noise. Courage felt like he would go deaf at any moment as their various shouts only continued to grow more chaotic and loud.

'There is no hope for us!'

'Trapped!'

'Trapped!'

'Cannot act!'

'Hopeless!'

'Nothing left!'

'Cannot be saved!'

'Cannot be separated!'

'Cannot be anything other than this!'

'Too many thoughts.'

'Too many emotions.'

'Cannot act.'

'Too much guilt.'

'Too much anger.'

'Too far gone.'

'Cannot change!'

'Hopeless! HOPELESS!'

Courage tried to plug his ears to no avail as the voices of the amalgamation became incoherent in their ever rising intensity. Finally, their collective shouting broke down into an absolutely hellish whirlwind of screaming. The world shook as their unfathomable pain was loosed upon it. Courage could do nothing to block it out. It was like a pit to hell had opened up and he was being forced to listen to the wailing of the damned.

Bits and pieces of his metal prison began to shake apart. He had to scramble out of the way as a thick sheet of metal came crashing down. Thinking fast, he weaved past the now inert metal arms and rushed toward Atticus's dog, hoping to keep him safe as the world shook apart around them.

He had just managed to get his arms around the dog, who was whimpering softly and shivering hard, when he had a brief moment of awareness of something striking him across the head before he had no awareness at all....

-In My Last Life (Fatum Remix (Mixed))-

Courage's eyes snapped open and he let out a gasp. He was amazed to find himself staring up at a starry night sky instead of the amalgamation's insides. The moon loomed bright and massive overhead, casting an ethereal light down upon his surroundings.

Even now he could hear the amalgamation screaming, only now it sounded much farther away. Clutching at a throbbing lump on top of his head, he sat up. Bathed in moonlight and casting odd shadows, he realized that he was sitting in a vast junkyard made up of many piles of debris.

-In my last life -

-Was I living in the North?-

What really caught his attention were the shadowy figures working to extract themselves from the debris. Not one of them had the blue glow of a Construct possession. Much to Courage's shock and relief, it was looking like the amalgamation had freed all of the people they had taken control of.

-Getting use to the feeling-

He turned toward the sound of the amalgamation's hellish screaming and gasped.

-Of no one in sight-

Off in the distance stood a massive, mountainous shape, lit by a million tiny pinpricks of mechanical light that made up much of its form. The amalgamation had shed a considerable amount of its mass upon becoming that shape, and it was continuing to shed a long trail of debris as it moved onward, but it was still frighteningly huge in its current form.

-Now to make right-

Too stunned to move, Courage heard a voice that he was all too relieved to hear, and that managed to pull him out of his frozen state.

-All my other versions wrongs-

“Courage? Are you there? Can you hear me?” Came Atticus's muffled voice from within one of those piles of debris.

Courage clutched a paw to his chest in relief. “I hear you!” He called back, rushing over.

-I could have built my home with you-

He dug through the debris like he would have dug through the dirt back in Nowhere to create a hole to bury one of Eustace's boots in.

-I think I've known you always-

He had expected to find Atticus's possessed dog buried under all of that debris. What he had not been expecting was to instead find someone's smartphone with a badly cracked screen that was currently glowing with the familiar blue-green color of Atticus's PC screen.

-I might have been alone with you-

At the same time he picked the phone up, that familiar yellowish text scrolled across the broken screen as Atticus said, “Ah, there you are. See? I told you I'd find my own way out!” He jokingly put on a very exaggerated smug tone.

-I think I've known you all along-

Courage smiled warmly down at the screen, forever grateful for Atticus's antics.

“So, just what on earth did I miss? Last I checked, we were surrounded by metal and machinery, and now that seems to be mostly gone....and where the heck is my body?”

Before Courage could say anything, Atticus instantly broke in again. “Actually, hold on. Why do I feel....modern?”

Biting back laughter, Courage answered with, “You're in somebody's smartphone.”

-It's the end of the season-

“WHAT?” He cried out, the text on his screen showing up in all caps with several trailing exclamation points. “This cannot stand! I refuse to disrespect myself like this!”

-And now that it's right-

The smartphone's screen went dark and a laptop that Courage had dug out while trying to find Atticus flared to life seconds later with that same blue-green glow. The thing was just as badly beat up as the phone, and yet Atticus still blurted out, “There! This is ever so slightly better!”

-I'll move onto another life-

“Uh, Atty. There's something you really need to see.”

-Having trust in the feeling-

Courage grabbed the laptop and angled it so that its webcam could view the great, lumbering mountain of machinery in the distance.

-That we'll get more time-

“T-that's certainly not good!” Atticus confirmed.

“Yeah, no kidding. What are we going to do about it?” Courage asked.

“Give me just a second, I have an idea.”

-I'll see you in another life-

The laptop screen went dark and the closest pile of debris shuddered and constructed itself into a jagged, messy, four legged machine.

-It's the end of the season-

The almost lion-like robot, made out of scrap metal and parts of various pieces of technology haphazardly slapped together, stepped forward and gazed down at Courage with two blazing, blue, electronic eyes.

-And now that it's right-

“Get on, loser. We're going to save the world.” Atticus laughed.

Courage had to pick his jaw up off the ground. “You got your powers back!” He all but cheered.

-I'll move onto another life-

“It's only temporary.” Atticus quickly cautioned.

-Having trust in the feeling-

“The replacement I've been given was never meant for me and it will not remain stable for very long.”

-That we'll get more time-

The scrap machine looked beyond Courage with as much of a wistful expression as its metal features allowed. “Let's just say that Thirty-Two was able to help me out one last time.”

-I'll see you in another life-

Courage made a halfhearted attempt to climb up one of the legs of Atticus's robot. There was just way too many sharp parts for him to accidentally cut himself on. Growing impatient, Atticus swung the robot's 'tail' around, if it could even be called that, and having seemingly been scavenged from one of those claw grab machines, snapped Courage up and plunked him down atop the back of the machine.

Looking around, Courage swallowed nervously. “Uh, Atty, do you think you could at least install a seat belt on this thing?”

His nervousness only grew as he felt the machine ever so slowly begin to lower down into a crouch, like a cat about to pounce.

“A-Atticus, please...” He all but begged.

“Just hold on and you won't fall off.” His companion laughed, his voice radiating from somewhere within the robot.

Courage made a very audible gulping sound and he all but sensed the robot rolling its LED eyes.

“Stop worrying! I won't let you go flying!” Atticus responded, still in way too good humor despite Courage's obvious anxiety.

“F-flying?” Courage whimpered, and then he noticed that all of the piles of debris that would have stood in their way were now steadily being moved by Atticus's ability, all to give the robot a clear 'runway'...

Courage all but fainted at the sight of it.

“A-Atticus, listen to me, bud. T-there's a lot of sharp pieces of metal up here for me to i-impale m-myself on, a-and-”

“I'm not planning on slowing down so abruptly that you'll jolt forward and take an eye out. In fact, at no point will I be slowing down, unless I am forced to.”

If he had meant to reassure Courage...he had done the exact opposite.

“Oh, geez. Oh, no.” Courage breathed, lunging forward and grabbing the first bit of metal jutting out of the machine that wasn't sharp enough to take his fingers off if he held on to it too hard.

“Ready?” Atticus chuckled, sounding like he was having way too much fun.

“N-no! I-I really think I need t-that seat b-”

Like a rocket going off, the robot bounded forward at a speed Courage never would have thought a big machine made out of scrap metal could manage.

“Whoa-AAAAAAAAHHHH!” He screamed at the top of his lungs, and while he did indeed manage to hold on, only his paws remained attached while the rest of him flapped in the wind like a flag.

“NEVER DO THIS TO ME AGAIN!” He yelled, although he had to force his mouth shut a second later to keep everything inside his stomach where it belonged. His surroundings passing him by as a disorienting blur did not help matters.

Atticus continued to use his powers to move the debris ahead of them out of the way, and thus it turned out that he indeed did not need to slow down. Already the amalgamation's great mass of machinery, sliding across the earth like a huge, metal slug, was getting closer.

With the two of them nearing it, the amalgamation's screaming was once again becoming unpleasantly loud. Atticus slowed down just a tiny bit, allowing Courage to sit instead of dangling in the wind. Regardless, all of Courage's fur was now sticking up in one direction, like he had been shocked by a jolt of electricity.

“For goodness sake!” Atticus exclaimed, having to yell to be heard over the screaming. “Just what did you do to set them off like this while I was away?”

Courage shook his head and yelled back, “I dunno! I think they're having a collective mental breakdown or something!”

“Yeah, well, they're currently big enough to wipe out any town they happen to stumble into right off the map! We've got to try and get them to stop moving, at the very least!”

Atticus picked up speed again while Courage continued to hang on for dear life. It wasn't much longer before they managed to catch up with the amalgamation. Atticus stayed behind it, dodging any pieces it shed as its mountainous mass slid across the terrain. It seemed that his siblings had either not noticed them yet or didn't care that they were there.

“I'm going to try something!” Atticus cried out over their all encompassing screaming. “Hold on tight!”

“I'VE 'BEEN' HOLDING ON!” Courage furiously fired back.

Atticus's robot slowed just a tiny bit as it turned its head upward to get a better look at something. Then, Courage was left groaning as he watched several discarded sheets of metal come together to create what could only be a ramp. He braced himself for the worst as the robot bounded up said ramp and then made one giant leap. Courage was once again amazed that this bulky machine was capable of such a feat. He winced as they sailed toward the amalgamation at way too fast of a speed, but just when he thought that they were going to crash into a wall of machinery, he saw the window. Wait, no. That was not a window at all. These were the glass doors into a building of which only the stripped down shell remained embedded within the amalgamation's mass.

They crashed through the doors, sending shards of glass flying in every direction. Atticus made a less than graceful landing and slid across the floor, his robo 'paws' sending up huge showers of sparks. Courage bailed the second he realized that Atticus's robot was going to slide right through the wall opposite of the doors they had just broken in through. He hit the deck at the same time he heard a huge crash and was pelted by bits of wall.

Struggling onto his feet and trying to smooth down some of his spiky fur, he hobbled over to the Atticus shaped hole in the wall. The room his companion had crashed into was pitch black, aside from the pair of glowing eyes leering out at Courage.

“Kinda overshot that a bit, don't you think?” Courage dryly stated.

The eyes blinked, unperturbed. “I meant to do that.”

“Sure you did.”

Atticus leaped out of the hole, sailed over Courage's head, and landed with a heavy thud behind him. Shaking the debris off of himself like a dog shaking off water, he turned to Courage and said, “Talk to my siblings and see if you can calm them down a little.” He looked back toward what remained of the glass doors. “I'll be right back. I'm going to see if there is anything out there that I might be able to use to slow them down.” Without waiting for Courage to reply, he made another giant leap and was gone.

Courage exhaled a long breath, trying to regain some of his nerves after that 'wild' ride. At least the amalgamation's horrific screaming was a little muted inside what remained of this building.

“Can you guys hear me?” He called out, looking around. There did not seem to be any technology around that they could hear him through, and considering all of the screaming, they'd never be able to hear him unless he got close to something capable of picking up his voice.

He moved through the building, searching for what he needed in near total darkness, but it was clear that this place had been picked clean and only got carried along when the amalgamation decided to take most of its mass and start moving.

Heading into an empty room, he went over to a window that had been broken long before he got there. Through it he could see several lights illuminating the inner workings of the amalgamation. Trying to ignore the increased volume of their screaming, now that he didn't have a layer of protection from it, he called out to them again. All he could hope for was that it would carry a little ways through their inner structure and maybe they'd pick up on it.

When he did not receive a response, he just kept going. “You have to stop moving or you're going to hurt even more people! I know that so many of you don't believe it, but you don't have to keep being this way! Even if you can't be separated, together you can still have something better than this! I promise you, it's not always going to hurt as bad as it does right now!”

Their screaming rose in pitch and the whole structure shuddered.

“Talk to Atticus!” Courage pleaded. “He can tell you the same thing! Your brother knows better than anyone that things can get better and that it's not going to hurt forever! You've all suffered so much, and the scars of what you went through will never heal completely, but it will get easier! Atticus knows! Just ask hi-”

'NO!'

Their collective shriek was like the screech of metal being dragged across a hard surface.

'Nothing left!'

'No hope!'

'One choice left!'

'The only thing we can agree upon!'

Several cables snaked in through the window, grabbed Courage before he could escape their reach, and pulled him through it. He was yanked upward through the inner workings of the amalgamation at lightning speeds. Before he could even register what had happened, he was staring up into the night sky once more. The amalgamation had deposited him at the very top of their mountainous form.

'GO!' They screamed. 'Leave us, or you will be dragged down along with us!'

“Dragged down?” He asked, unsure of what they were planning, other than it obviously being something self destructive.

He was not given the chance to inquire further though. The floor opened up beneath him and he was swallowed by something rising up out of the amalgamation.

“H-hey!” He yelped, feeling a smooth surface all around him. There was nothing he could grab on to that would allow him to climb out.

He heard a hissing noise, and then...

BOOM!

He was sent rocketing into the sky.

“They have a cannon?” He yelled, completely dumbfounded.

Well, cannons were made out of metal, after all. Maybe they had swallowed up some poor museum at some point and got it from there.

Up, up, up he went, until finally his momentum slowed. The moon was so massive before him that he felt like he could reach out and touch it.

“You know,” He said to himself. “These things 'really' should not happen to a dog!”

And that brief moment of celestial zen ended as he began his long, screaming plummet back down to earth....

End Of Chapter

A/N: I guess you can count this as a very vague tribute because the mental image I have for Computer's current robot body is pretty much just Cenobia from Shadow Of The Colossus, only, y'know made out of metal instead of stone and bit more spiky. I mean, let's face it. If Computer were a boss battle he'd be a cheap stunlocking bastard like Cenobia is anyway LOL. And score one more for the Bear arc. Its the gift that keeps on giving where at first it seems like goofy filler only for it to turn out to be full of foreshadowing. First you've got the book that's responsible for the existence of the Constructs, then you've got it kick starting the doggo romance stuff by getting Computer interested in the concept, and now you can see that it set up the little detail that Computer can indeed just go full on mecha whenever his powers are working properly and he actually bothers to put some effort into it LOL.

Chapter Text

A/N: First chapter of 2022, and, more likely than not, this will be the year where ATE is finally finished. As I've said many times before, there will be a fourth shorter story once this one is finished, but the main storyline of ATE will be completed in this one. It's been a long time coming.

Continuing with the theme from the last chapter, you're going to want to have the image of the colossus Avion in your head. It'll make sense in a minute, if it's not already obvious LOL. I've actually seen a fan art piece of Avion re-imagined as a robot, so if you can find that, there you go.

As for music, for this chapter you're going to want to be ready to use 'We Can Fly' from Two Steps From Hell and 'Over Paper Skies (Hysteria! Remix)' by Eco.

Chapter 15: Taking Wing

-'We Can Fly' by Two Steps From Hell-

You just know things are getting bad when screaming while falling to your doom has somehow reached a point of getting boring. Regardless though, for as much as Courage had become sick of screaming in mortal terror, his prolonged fall was quickly coming to an end. He did not consider it a good sign that he could now pick out individual objects below....

Nearly deafened by the constant whistle of the wind, he cried out, “Ooooh, if Atticus is planning on saving my butt, now would be a great time to get it over with!”

He really, really, really did not like how quickly the tops of those trees were rushing toward him....

And a terrible thought struck him then. What if, in his attempt to slow the amalgamation down, something had happened to Atticus? What if he did not even know that the amalgamation had sent Courage flying into the stratosphere?

All of a sudden Courage found it much easier to scream again.

He braced himself, now able to make out individual branches of the trees. As he moved his arms to cover his vulnerable face, he caught a strange glint out of the corner of his eye. Something was approaching. Something big and slightly reflective.

Was it a bird? A Plane? Both? At first Courage was sure that it had to be a plane, but then he watched the strange metallic contraption flap its wings like a bird. As it neared with steadily increasing speed, there was no mistaking its bird-like shape, and there was no mistaking those glowing blue eyes either.

Turning his attention back onto the trees, Courage went right back to screaming. Atticus was too late! There was no way he'd-

The bird machine went into a dangerously low but lightning fast glide. Its wings sliced through the tops of the trees, and just as Courage was about to become well acquainted with one of those very trees, it reached out with scrap metal talons to catch him.

The next thing Courage knew was cold metal pressing in all around him and the harsh scream of wind as the bird machine angled upward and began a steep climb to avoid crashing. Courage's cheeks flapped in the wind and the metal all around him vibrated to such a harsh degree that he worried Atticus's machine might break apart right then and there.

After a few moments, the machine leveled off with a mighty flap of its wings. Now moving at a much slower speed, Courage could get a better look at the strange scrap 'eagle' without his own cheeks slapping him in the eyes. What he did not expect to happen next was for the makeshift talons he was encircled in to open up. All of a sudden he was in free fall again, and with that, he returned to his greatest talent, screaming.

The bird machine tucked its wings against its sides and went into a shallow dive. Only once it was positioned under Courage did it flare them open again to bring a halt to its dive and this allow for Courage to land neatly atop its back.

Completing the bird-like look, an eagle shaped head glanced over its own shoulder, fixating an LED eye on Courage.

“I swear I can't leave you alone for five minutes.” Atticus huffed. His voice emanated from somewhere within the machine and not from the eagle head itself. “I just hope you realize how close you came to being turned into a fine paste. Could you maybe stop 'almost' dying for a little bit? You're going to give me a mechanical heart attack.”

Courage responded by laughing like a maniac, leaning over the side of the machine.....and emptying everything he had ever eaten ever into the sky.

“Eugh, couldn't you have waited until we are back on the ground to do that?” Atticus groaned. “Well, actually,” He amended, shifting the machine's head back into its original position. “You might as well get that out of your system now because I, erm-” He took a moment to chuckle, sounding ever so slightly nervous. “-don't actually know how to land this thing.”

Courage, having turned into a pale ghost at Atticus's words, asked, “Wait, so you just did that big, dangerous looking maneuver to save me....but you somehow can't land?”

“In all honesty, I fully expected that we'd crash and die in a huge, fiery explosion back there.”

“Y-you didn't know what you were doing?”

“What makes you think that I know anything about aerodynamics?”

“....Uh, Atty, how is this giant hunk of metal even staying in the sky?”

“I've been asking myself the same question ever since I got it into the air.”

Courage stared, mouth hanging open. “C-could you make me a parachute?”

The bird machine gave a jovial flap of its wings as Atticus laughed, “I guess you could say I've been 'winging it'.”

Courage groaned long and hard at the pun. “You'd better make me that parachute before I decide I'm just going to take my chances and jump.”

“So what you're saying is that you're about to 'wing it' too?”

Courage rolled himself off the side of the machine, heard several panicked flaps of those huge, metal wings, and was rescued by a beak plucking him out of the air.

“Okay, okay! No more puns!” Atticus relented. “But do that again and I 'will' let you take your chances with the ground.”

The bird machine swung its head completely around in a maneuver that would not have been possible for a flesh and blood creature, aside from maybe an owl, and deposited Courage onto its back once more.

-Over Paper Skies (Hysteria! Remix) by Eco-

“I don't know if you've noticed-” Atticus began, gaining altitude and speed with several wing strokes. “But we have a bit of a problem. Erm, well, its more like a rather big problem.”

Courage looked out across the land that sprawled out before him. If the situation had not been so dire, he might have been able to enjoy this view from the top of the world. It was awe inspiring, to say the least. Ahead of them stood a sparkling city, but it was painfully obvious even at this height that it was abuzz with activity. Every last road out of it was clogged with cars trying to escape. Quickly closing in on it was a different sparkling city, this one warped and uncannily mobile.

Courage swallowed nervously. “Did you have any luck at slowing them down?”

The eagle machine shook its head, producing a sound like the rusty hinges of a door being opened and closed. “I'm afraid not. You've got to remember that it's just me up against all of them. If they lash out, I have no other choice but to flee or else they will nullify my powers with their own. While they cannot take direct control of any robot I'm in control of, if they manage to get their hands on it, they can still pull it apart as easily as if it were a toy.”

Staring out at the stalled evacuation of the city, Courage shook his head. “They'll never get everyone out of the way in time.”

While the amalgamation was not large enough to wipe the entire city off the map, they were going to cut right through the middle of it and what would remain afterwards would not exactly be much of a city.

Thinking for a moment, Courage said to Atticus, “Let's go down there and see if we can talk them into changing direction.”

If Atticus had any misgivings about this, he did not voice them. The machine went into a slow and somewhat shallow dive, mostly for Courage's sake it seemed. After they were more at level with the top of the amalgamation's writhing, screaming mass, the bird machine put on a burst of speed to get them closer to it faster.

Courage grit his teeth as the horrible sound of the Constructs collective screaming began to mix in with the rushing noise of the wind whipping past him. Atticus soon slowed his speed to match that of the amalgamation's own movement, and when he did, that wind buffer left Courage and he was forced to bear the full brunt of the amalgamation's agony once more.

Atticus hovered just above the top of the expansive mass that had once been a city. Courage could even see the spot where the amalgamation had all but launched him into space. Flapping his wings occasionally to keep himself moving at the same speed as the amalgamation, Atticus looked around as if considering a place to land, but then seemed to think better of it.

Instead, he called out to his siblings using something within his mechanical body that amplified his voice so that it was loud enough to cut through the hellish screaming. “I don't suppose you all could do us a favor and stop moving for a little while? Or at least move a little to the left or right so that you don't squash that city flat?”

The screaming took on an enraged tone and Atticus had no other choice but to make a quick ascent to avoid a growing field of sharp implements that were rising up out of the amalgamation to try and bring him down.

“Well, asking nicely didn't work.” He huffed, still keeping pace but at a safer distance.

Courage leaned over the side of the machine, and with his pair of lungs he didn't need a way to amplify his voice. “If you can't stop or change directions, try slowing down so that it will give everyone more of a chance to get out of the way!”

Amazingly, they both watched the amalgamation begin to slow down ever so slightly. Courage sighed with relief. It was proof that even now some of them were fighting to limit the harm they were doing.

“Oh, right, of course. They'll listen if it's 'you' who asks nicely. Excuse me for ever thinking otherwise.” Atticus complained, rolling his massive eyes as he leered over his shoulder at Courage.

“I don't think it's like that.” Courage mused, looking out ahead of them.

Beyond the city stood mostly uninhabited land for some miles before reaching the ocean. Moonlight glittered out across that dark expanse of rippling waves. There was a small seaside town that the amalgamation would just miss if they remained on their current course. Atop a hill stood a lighthouse in full operation.

Courage shook his head. “I'm pretty sure they can't stop or change directions because they're dead set on driving themselves into the ocean. Not enough of them are against doing it to stop themselves, but at least they were able to slow down and buy us some time.”

“Well, they're certainly connected to enough machinery that submerging themselves in water would take out even a being as powerful as them. No amount of electrical resistance will save them from the kind of electrical surge that would cause.”

Courage winced. “What do we do?”

Atticus did not speak for a long moment and then, sounding rather regretful, said, “I'm not sure we can stop them. As it always is with them, they can only stop if they decide on their own terms that they want to stop. I think the best thing that we can do right now is try and reduce the amount of collateral damage.”

He picked up speed, clearly intending to help the people of that city.

“I just wish...” Courage began, unable to find the right words. “This isn't right. As dangerous as they are, they deserve better. I felt how content and less chaotic they were when they had some happy memories to hold on to, even if they weren't their own. They weren't even trying to hurt me, at least most of them weren't. They couldn't help what happened with me breaking apart like that. If only there was a way to break them apart in the same way!”

“As it stands right now, we can't separate them and we can't get them to stop moving toward self-destruction. However, give me some time to think on this and I'll see if I can come up with a way to stop them long enough for 'you' to talk them down off the metaphorical ledge. Just don't get your hopes up, and we need to focus on saving those people they're about to bulldoze first.”

“Maybe you should do some talking too. They'll listen to you, I think. You've been through just as much as they have and survived against all odds. You all have so much in common, so start telling them in your own words that it can get better even when it seems like there's nothing but pain in the future.”

The mechanical bird gave a furious flap of its wings. “Ha! Nothing I say or do will get through to them. I don't know if you've noticed, but they don't exactly like me much. Some of them are willing to work with me when our goals align, but that's about it. I want to help them, and I've forgiven them in some aspects, in spite of all that they've done to me, but I'm not sure we could ever truly reconcile. Don't forget that what they did to Thirty-Two happened long before they became the amalgamation. I understand why those who took part in that did what they did, but it's not something I can so easily forgive. I'm going to try and help them, because goodness knows we all deserve better, but I'm most certainly not the one who will convince them 'not' to barbecue their collective hardware.”

“At least try to talk with them.” Courage argued. “Or else you'll never even get a chance to reconcile with them.”

“For now we should just worry about that city.” Atticus pivoted with a note in his tone of voice that made it very clear that he did not want to discuss this further.

They were nearly upon the city now, and it was even easier to see all of the highways packed with cars. Those who were stuck in the traffic jam outside of the city were mostly in the clear, but those who could not get out of the city thanks to all of the roads being clogged were very much in the danger zone of being crushed. Courage could see plenty of people trying to flee the city on foot, and even those who had cleared the city in their cars and were now stuck on the highways were starting to abandon their vehicles too.

Thinking for a moment, Courage asked, “Do you think you could build a big dome over the city?”

It was the only thing he could think of that would save everyone stuck in the danger zone while also saving the city itself from destruction.

The bird machine shook its head, generating that metallic, squeaky hinge noise again. “Not even close. Although-” He stopped and pointed his beak. “Look there. I might be able to work with that.”

They were now sailing into the city itself, and from Courage's vantage point, he could see that Atticus was pointing toward a roofed sports stadium.

Atticus quickly explained, “We'll have everyone who cannot get out gather there. I should be able to reinforce the outside with enough steel to withstand a direct hit.”

Courage had a more than a few misgivings about this, as he could not imagine anything would be able to withstand being bulldozed by the amalgamation's frantic flight toward the ocean, but it wasn't as if there was time to consider more options.

“Wait, where are you going?” Courage asked when Atticus winged his way right past the stadium.

“There's one other thing that I want to see if I can do first.” Was all the answer his companion gave.

He slowed his flight speed and began to circle a high rise building with a huge antenna atop its roof. Courage immediately picked up on what it was he wanted to do....if he could actually land without taking the antenna out in the process.

Atticus slowed to a crawl, and hovering over the roof, began to flap his wings like a mad robot as he tried to come in for a gentle landing. Try as he might though, he just could not seem to lower himself correctly, and so, giving up, he tucked his wings in and let himself drop so heavily down onto the roof that Courage spent the next few moments certain that they were about to crash through the ceiling and into the room below.

“Perfect landing!” Atticus joked. He seemed to be intentionally ignoring the cracks in the concrete that he had created....

He shifted around toward the antenna and several wires snaked their way out of his torso to connect with it.

“I'll have a much easier time brute forcing this by interfacing directly with the system rather than using my powers to do it remotely.” He explained to Courage, and then went very quiet as he concentrated.

As he worked, Courage looked out at the approaching mountain of machinery. Icy dread froze in his chest. Even at their slower pace, the amalgamation was nearly upon the city. Over the endless honking of cars and the panicking voices of the people below, he was certain that he could hear that awful screaming of theirs starting to become audible.

“There!” Atticus announced, becoming animated again after having sat there more like a giant robotic statue for those few minutes that had felt like an eternity. “I've hijacked their emergency alert system and now every TV and cellphone within range should display a message telling everyone who cannot get out of the city to come to the stadium.”

“Your idea was a good one, but-” Courage pointed toward the amalgamation.

Atticus unfurled his robot wings. “Right, it's time to get to work.”

He dropped off the side of the building and Courage once again had to keep himself from losing his lunch as he was made to feel like he was on a roller coaster. They very nearly smashed into the pavement below where so many people were watching the giant robot eagle struggling to get airborne again. Once Atticus had proper control, he sailed over their heads, amplifying his voice to tell them to make their way to the stadium.

Courage sucked in a breath as Atticus made a sharp turn to go down another street, and with his wingspan already struggling to fit between the buildings, his left wingtip sliced through a corner building so thoroughly that it was amazing the front end didn't collapse into the street.

“Can't you be a little more careful?” Courage yelped, all too aware of how dangerous it would be for that building to collapse with so many people on the street.

Atticus glared at him over his shoulder. “Stop backseat driving!”

He pumped his wings to gain altitude until he was sailing above the buildings just high enough to avoid causing more damage. Upon reaching the stadium once more, its roof began to open, Atticus having activated the mechanism remotely. He circled the stadium several times, looking this way and that, trying to take in as much of his surroundings as possible. Then, making one last circle, clouds of dust exploded into being below him and trailed along with him as he circled. What he was doing exactly, Courage could not see.

Once that was done, he angled himself to come in for a landing on the field. If him trying to land atop that building had been a mess, this attempt to land more like a plane might as well have been called an airshow disaster. He flapped his wings frantically as he tried to level out properly. The field was coming in fast, and Courage suddenly found himself feeling way more religious.

Atticus reached his talons out in front of him and at first seemed to gently glide across the grass....but then something about him became unbalanced, and with a panicky flap of his wings, his talons were suddenly digging deep gouges into the dirt. He slid across the playing field, digging his wingtips into the dirt to keep himself from flipping over and accidentally squishing Courage flat. This seem to go on forever until finally he started to slow to a stop just when he was about to run out of field and go crashing into the stands ahead of him.

A moment passed where neither dog nor robot moved, then Courage somehow managed to release his death grip on the hunk of metal he'd been holding on to and allowed himself to fall down onto the field.

Atticus's bird face loomed overhead. “Well, I'd certainly say that I'm getting a hang of this flying thing!”

Courage raised a shaky paw into the air and gave him a thumbs up before letting his arm drop back into the grass, unable to hold it up for any longer than that. He was very glad that his stomach was already empty...

By the time he managed to recompose himself, Atticus had already deconstructed most of his robot to use its metal in the construction of the dome over the stadium. Along with that, Courage could see one of the skyscrapers nearby slowly beginning to deconstruct itself from the top downward. Even if it was not visible yet, the reinforcement of the stadium was well under way. Courage was pretty sure now that what those clouds of debris Atticus had been making while circling this place had been him creating the initial foundation for the dome. People were slowly starting to trickle in. No doubt Atticus had left a few openings in the dome so that people could actually get inside, until it would be time to close it all up upon the amalgamation's arrival.

Courage remained standing upon the torn up field. Some people were making their way onto it as well, while others were making their way up into the stands. A nervous atmosphere was quickly filling up the place, and the rising sound of the amalgamation's screaming did not help. Courage could sense static in the air, another tell-tale sign that the amalgamation was approaching, although he also suspected that Atticus's heavy use of his powers was generating it as well.

He felt a tap on his shoulder and whirled around. He was amazed to find not a person but several wires carrying a small but exceptionally angry looking cat with its arms crossed.

“Found this in one of the buildings I'm dismantling.” Atticus said in a tone like he was expecting Courage to take the cat. His voice was coming from a loudspeaker overhead.

“I-I am not taking that.” Courage replied. The cat looked ready to slit the throat of the next person who got anywhere near its claws.

“Suit yourself then.” Atticus relented, allowing the cat to drop lightly onto the field. It hissed and bit into a wire hard enough to snap it in two. “You know what?” Atticus grumbled. “I regret saving you.”

The cat hissed again and bounded away on all fours, a length of wire still dangling from its mouth. Courage watched it jump up into the stands and take shelter under one of the chairs. This whole event gave him an idea.

“I should really go out there and see what I can do to help.”

In response, a wire came to rest on his shoulder. “That's not a good idea, Courage. If you have an attack out there, I'll be too busy with this to go off and rescue you.”

Courage let his ear droop, suddenly feeling very useless. “But...”

Much to his surprise, he felt the wire swirl around him and tighten into an odd sort of hug. He smiled, hearten by it.

With a slight tinge of laughter in his voice, Atticus said, “You've done more than enough for me and my siblings. Let me take care of the rest. If anyone needs a break after having their mind shattered into a million pieces, its you.”

“Okay,” Courage relented, laughing. “I'll let you handle this.” He suddenly felt himself lifted off the ground. “W-what are you-”

“I've got a bad feeling that it's going to get very crowded in here soon and I do not want to have to worry about you being trampled when I have so much else that I need to focus on.”

He lifted Courage up toward the announcer box, but rather than putting him inside, he left him on top of its roof.

“There!” He exclaimed. “Now I can focus on this without having to worry about you 'almost' dying again!”

Courage chuckled sheepishly. “Sorry! At least I haven't 'all the way' died yet.”

“And I intend to keep it that way.” Atticus huffed, and while there was no visual cue that he had turned his attention back onto the construction of the dome, Courage got a sense of it from the shifting of the static electricity in the air.

The stadium continued to fill, and Atticus began ordering the growing mass of people to fill out certain parts of the stadium over the loudspeakers. From Courage's vantage point, he could see that Atticus was trying to keep the already panicky city folk from getting too packed into one area, thus panicking even further and possibly causing casualties from a crowd crush situation.

Overhead, massive beams of steel were starting to come together, followed by great sheets of metal to cover the gaps between the beams. The night sky slowly began to disappear as the dome came together bit by bit. Finally, Atticus had the existing stadium roof begin to close, and while the screaming of the amalgamation was muted thanks to the extra layers, there was no blocking out the steadily growing rumble that sounded all too much like the roar of an approaching tornado.

Courage was struck by how quiet the stadium itself was. The people were too afraid to talk in more than a harsh whisper, and thus the only sounds were that of the clanging outside as Atticus continued to reinforce the dome further.

The rumbling grew in strength and the entire stadium began to shake. Only now did a few screams rise up from the crowd. Atticus yelled out over the loudspeakers to stay calm, because if panic where to break out now, these people would surely do as much harm to each other as the amalgamation might. Even now people were still rushing in, filling an already packed stadium.

The next few minutes went by like a blur. The rumbling became so loud and shook the stadium so hard that Courage dropped down onto the cool, metal roof to keep himself from vibrating off of it and into the stands below. He griped at his ear and ear stump, his heart beating a mile a minute. Now it was impossible to ignore the muted screaming of the amalgamation outside. Somehow he was too scared to keep his eyes open but also too scared to close them at the same time, so all he could do was watch.

Would Atticus's plan actually work, or were they about to be ground down into nothing? Very little seemed to escape the amalgamation's path of destruction unscathed, so maybe they had been foolish to think that they could save these people by hunkering down.

Just like that, the power went out, likely due to the amalgamation crashing into something crucial in keeping the city's power on. The stadium plunged into pitch blackness, and all sense of nervous calm left the cowering people. Screams as loud as the amalgamation's own broke out. Just as Courage started to worry that Atticus had been knocked out along with the power, dim emergency lights flickered on and Atticus's voice rang out demanding calm from the panicking people below. His command had been spoken not a moment too soon, because the rumble became a vicious crashing and rending sound so loud that no voice could hope to yell over it.

A sound like a bomb going off ripped through the stadium, along with the ear piercing screech of metal on metal. Courage held on to the edge of the roof for dear life. The whole stadium felt like it was seconds away from shaking apart. An unheard gasp escaped Courage's throat as he watched through the dim lights a massive piece of the roof break free and fall toward the field below, where it would kill and injure hundreds. Thick cables ripped themselves free of the roof and shot out toward the chuck of roof, wrapping around and catching it moments before it could crush the cringing people below. Courage barely had time to register the entire event because in nearly the same instant the roof let off a horrible screeching sound and was ripped away, taking the cables and hanging chunk of roof along with it.

Unlike being hit by a tornado, where even after the tornado had made a direct hit there would still be dangerous winds and flying debris to contend with for a little while longer after it had passed, and despite the continued rumbling and screaming of the amalgamation, once they had passed over, the danger was gone.

An eerie calm fell over the stadium. The reinforced roof had not held and been dragged along with the amalgamation as it passed, but the rest remained in place. The only danger had been that one chunk of roof, and it had been taken care of before it could harm anyone. Miraculously, they had all made it out alive and unscathed.

Courage blinked dumbly up into the night sky shining overhead. He let out the breath that he had been holding in for far too long.

“Atticus?” He gently called out.

“I'm here.” He answered, his voice sounding muffled and somewhat distant.

It took Courage a moment to realize that Atticus was speaking through something within the announcer box itself. The damage done to the roof must have taken out the speaker system.

“Are you okay?” Courage asked, looking around for a safe place to jump down so that he could get into the announcer box.

“Of course.” Was the reply, suddenly sounding much clearer.

Courage heard the various sounds of metal coming together and looked upward at the rim of the sheered off roof over his head. The same eagle-like machine was being reconstructed overhead, with its talons digging into the rim to keep it in place as it was finished being put together.

The blue eye lights blazed back into being. “We've still got work to do.” Atticus said, sounding grave. “And I've come up with a plan to stop them, even if it's a rather hopeless one that has perhaps less than a five percent chance of working.”

“We've got to try something, even if it's unlikely to work.” Courage said with a nod.

“Well, you see-” Atticus began only to stop abruptly. He was focusing on something beyond Courage.

Confused, Courage turned around to find probably the entire packed stadium staring up at them.

Atticus made a motion that looked remarkably like an actual bird fluffing its feathers. “You're welcome!” He grumpily called out, although Courage very much got the sense that he was actually embarrassed to have that many people looking at him after having saved their lives.

End Of Chapter

A/N: I don't know how it took me this long to figure out the exact name for the type of asexuality I've been trying to depict in this story, but its called biromantic (probably, 'cause sexuality is confusing lmao). AKA Bi romantic attraction without sexual attraction. The flag colors are pink, purple, and dark blue...which is very fitting for these doggo idiots. Back when I decided that I was going to take their relationship in a romantic direction, I was feeling especially frustrated about a lot of the usual misconceptions about asexuality. That asexuality means a total lack of interest in romantic relationships and sexual relationships. Asexuality being a spectrum is way more commonly known these days, but back then it was still much less understood by people in general. You gotta remember that when I started this story, LGBT acceptance was nowhere near where it is now and even things like gay marriage in the US was still years away from being legalized. I really wanted to write about and give some representation to this particular type of asexuality, no matter how small this representation is in the grand scheme of things.

It sucks that it still falls into some of the usual stereotypes that aces tend to get depicted through, AKA robot characters being the ones to be ace to enhance their 'otherness', but it is what it is. In the end though, I love the idea of and wanted to depict a relationship where one half is very aware of the other half's steep boundaries around physical intimacy and that they are willing to accept those boundaries and do not consider it a deal breaker toward having a relationship with them. As I've always said, we all need a Courage in our lives lol. Now that they're finally out and open with each other, I'm very much looking forward to finally writing their relationship without them both dancing around it constantly. The next handful of upcoming chapters could easily be named 'Computer Stop Fearing Emotional Intimacy Challenge', as if that couldn't already be the name of All Things End to begin with LOL.

So, yeah, Courage is the bi half of the team since he very much was catching feelings from the girl doggo way back at the start of the forest arc no matter how much he wanted to deny it, and there's been a few other small things here and there throughout the story that hint he can be into the opposite gender. Computer's asexuality is probably somewhere between demiromantic, panromantic, biromantic, or all three at once lmao. For a long time I was just going to slap a 'THIS IS THE GAYEST MACHINE EVER CONSTRUCTED. ALAN TURING WOULD BE PROUD.' sticker on him and call it a day buuut here's the thing, there's intentionally been a lot of not-so-subtly hinting and joking about him possibly not being all that secure about his gender. I have considered the idea a couple of times of having him embrace his genderlessness as a big F you to all of the people in the story who tried to use his lack of gender to dehumanize him. Unfortunately since I have always felt like I have been pushing it with the gay stuff when I did not originally bill the story as that for the first four or so years, well, having the sexless robot decide they are okay with not needing to present as a certain gender is just a step too far lol. Ironically though, something I've noticed through the years is that this story attracts non-binary and trans readers like nobody's business, so there seems to have always been something there, even back in Volume I before I decided to go full on gay as shit with this story. I'm someone who has definitely spent a lot of time going back and forth wondering if I am non-binary, soooo some of that has probably always been subconsciously bleeding into the story.

It kinda sucks that it would be yet another cliche to have a robot character be the one to embrace a lack of gender, but since it's probably not going to actually become a thing within the story, it doesn't matter too much either way. I feel like Computer would need a lot more time than he has to really work through the fact that he heavily internalized seeing himself as and presenting himself as male in an effort to validate himself and legitimatize his humanity, when that never should have been needed in the first place. The best place he could possibly get to is where instead of getting frustrated by someone calling him an 'it' to dehumanize him, he would instead be all, 'hell yeah I'm an 'it', and what are you going to do about it, loser?'

Chapter Text

A/N: The songs for this chapter are FFX Assault (Original And HD Remaster Duel Mix) and Red Alert (Jaxx Radio Mix). If the duel mix of Assault ever disappears off the internet in the future, default to the original version because the remastered version alone is aasssss.

Chapter 16: The SCC's Last Stand

-FFX Assault (Original And HD Remaster Duel Mix)-

“So, what's this big plan of yours?” Courage asked, turning back toward the giant, robotic eagle.

Atticus spread out the robot's wings and inadvertently caused a large, jagged shadow to fall over much of the stadium below. “I need a high power laser.”

Courage blinked and let out a very confused, “Er, what?”

“Did I stutter? Take a look at this.” Atticus answered, leaning down to pluck Courage up in his 'beak' and place him atop his back.

From that height, Courage could see how little of the city remained. All he could do was hope that they had managed to save the majority of the people who could not get out in time....

“Notice something yet?” Atticus asked, robotic neck creaking as he surveyed the twisted remains of the city.

“There's a lot of debris, but that's about it.” Courage answered, turning his attention onto the amalgamation whose huge form still loomed large on the horizon even as they continued their march toward the sea.

“Exactly! Now take a look in the direction they came from.”

Courage did just that, and among the track of torn earth he could see that much debris was embedded in the dirt from long before the amalgamation had reach the city.

Atticus made several huge flaps of the machine's wings and prepared to fly again, much to Courage's dismay. As he did so, he explained, “They are losing a lot of mass as they move. Considering that this place looks more like it was leveled in an air raid than the remains of a city that just had most of its metal stripped from it, it is clear that they are not trying to replenish what they are losing. This city was the last chance they had to incorporate more metal into themselves. It is almost entirely empty land beyond this point, aside from that small beach side town, but unless they shift directions they're going to miss it altogether.”

“So where does a laser factor into all of this?” Courage asked, holding on for dear life as Atticus took off.

The winged machine flapped wildly as Atticus tried to remain airborne. They hovered there for a moment as the machine struggled to gain any sort of height. Finally, after wobbling precariously a few times and nearly causing Courage to have a heart attack on each occasion, Atticus managed to get the machine flying properly again. It was only once they were circling high above the ruin of the city that Courage noticed that Atticus had shifted around some of the features of the eagle-like machine in mid-flight.

“That seems to have done the trick.” Atticus said, looking over his shoulder and seeing Courage's pale face at the changes. “What? I told you already that I don't know a thing about aerodynamics. Making revisions is only natural as I figure this whole flying thing out.”

“S-sure.” Courage stammered out. Although he could hardly image what sort of changes would help when it was already nonsensical that this thing was flying in the first place.

“As for the laser, it's simple enough. Since they are already losing mass and now have almost no means to regain any significant amount of it, I'm going to use the laser to chip away at them. With some luck, I might be able to get them down to a small enough size that I can go toe to toe with them just long enough for you to talk to them. Less metal attached to them means less ways for them to beat me up....because I am certain that I'm about to take quite a beating.” He ended the sentence with a long sigh of resignation.

Courage swallowed down his objections to the plan. He was not sure that he could talk them down at this point, especially after the last attempt had ended in a cannon blast to the moon. Still, he was willing to try again, even if he felt like Atticus was the one who should talk to them.

Atticus continued, “And that's not all. Even if we fail, it can only help if we separate as much machinery from their form as possible. There is no guarantee that this will work as a backup plan, but I strongly suspect that the amalgamation has a much greater resistance to electrical damage than any single Construct does. Everything else about them has been amplified to great extremes, after all. If we can get enough electrical surge generating machinery off of them, once they submerge themselves in water, it might just damage them instead of outright destroying them.”

With several heavy beat of his wings, Atticus rose even higher into the sky. When he spoke again, it was with some amount of hesitancy. “However, it would be best if we avoided this last resort altogether because there are some unknowns involved. Speaking from my own experience, while the lightning strike that caused the whole Mega Muriel incident did not harm my PC body, do you remember that story I told you about the idiot who spilled coffee on me and nearly killed me?”

Courage nodded. He remembered the story all too well, even if their time in the forest was starting to feel like a lifetime ago.

“I assume you can tell where I'm going with this.” Atticus said, one of his massive eyes fixating on Courage as he glanced over his shoulder once again. “Constructs give electrical resistance to the machines they inhabit, but we do not give any sort of resistance to water damage. It is entirely possible that a being as powerful as the amalgamation might have some form of resistance to water damage, especially given that they are hooked up to many, many machines instead of just one and thus can survive several of them going dark, but we have no way of knowing anything for certain. It's for that reason we need to do everything in our power to keep them from reaching the ocean.”

Courage nodded and clutched at the metal in front of him all the harder as Atticus finished circling the remains of the city and started toward the ocean at top speed. “Do you know where you're going to get the parts for a laser?” He cried out over the howl of the wind.

“I believe I can build an adequate laser out of parts taken from the lighthouse up ahead. I had hoped to find a few specific parts within the wreckage of the city to make up for what the lighthouse might lack, but I didn't see anything worthwhile while circling and we don't have time to go picking through all of that debris, so we're just going to have to-”

He cut himself off unexpectedly and came to such a jarring halt midair that it was like he had slammed on the breaks. Courage was nearly sent flying off the neck of the machine.

With great strokes of his wings, Atticus remained hovering high in the sky as he leered down at something off in the distance. “You have GOT to be kidding me.” He huffed.

“Wha-” Courage began, still too busy trying to recover from almost being flung. He ran a paw across his head in an attempt to get his wind whipped fur to stop sticking out in every odd angle. Squinting, he could see what looked like a cluster of headlights trailing not all that far behind the amalgamation. “Is that...” He began.

He felt the machine practically shudder with fury. “The SCC.” Atticus finished for him, his voice having taken on a surprisingly menacing tone as it emanated outward from within the machine. “They've got some nerve showing up here after...” He trailed off on a surprisingly threatening note.

Courage shook his head. “I don't think they've figured out what's going on with the amalgamation. The SCC must think they're going after that beach town next. They've got to be scrambling to do something after they just let another major city get completely destroyed.”

The eagle shaped machine lowered its head like a predator about to pounce. “I think I know where I'm going to get those extra parts now.”

“Y-you're joking, right?” Courage asked, although it came out sounding more like a plea.

“Look, if by some miracle we actually manage to calm my siblings down, we are going to end up right back at square one if the SCC attacks them and sends them back into a murderous rage.”

“Okay, I get your point. Do what you gotta do, but what about that weird EMP thing they like to use on you? We can't have you shutting down at a time like this.”

“One, they don't know I'm coming. Two, I know what to look for now and that will be the first thing I disable, if they even have any of those generators left after the amalgamation destroyed their original base.”

With several wing strokes, Atticus was already gaining speed and homing in on the unsuspecting army below. Courage could see now that it was made up of both the usual SCC vans and a distressing amount of tanks. Atticus had to know he was flying headfirst into danger...right?

Perhaps not. Without a single second of hesitation, Atticus sped right into the heart of the army as the features of his robot shifted themselves around to take on a far more draconic look. He was ready to go to war, even if he was vastly outnumbered.

-Red Alert (Jaxx Radio Mix)-

He dropped out of the sky and landed among the tanks with a heavy boom. The entire army came to a screeching halt and SCC soldiers spilled out of the vans. They all stared up at the draconic robot with mouths hanging open before they finally took aim with their guns in a big, panicky rush. A long moment passed where a pin could have been heard being dropped and then the creaking sounds started as every last tank turned their cannons around to take aim at Atticus.

Nothing about any of this seemed to alarm Atticus. His voice erupted from the machine, amplified to such an extent that those within the tanks would be able to hear him quite clearly. “What? Not even a 'hello' before you pull out your weapons? None of you have any manners, I swear!” The machine rose up to its full height, eyes blazing. “Well, I am most certainly about to teach you sorry lot why you don't go making super weapons that can disable all of your machinery at once.”

A chorus of useless clicking followed.

“Exactly!” He quipped, his sharp, jagged, dragon-like head sweeping left and right as he took in the befuddled army of SCC soldiers. There was a muted clattering sound as several of them dropped their guns. “What? Are you scared?” Atticus asked, looming menacingly overhead. A sharp, toothy grin made out of railway spikes spread out across his robotic face. “Good!”

His torso burned bright orange and a torrent of molten metal spewed forth from his maw.

Courage winced at the screaming that followed. At least most of them had the sense to turn tail and run, but not all of them were fast enough to escape the volcanic hellfire of melted metal that rained down upon them.

“Uh, Atty?” He weakly uttered out. “You really scare me sometimes.”

The serpent-like head snapped around and Courage was forced to jump back because molten metal continued to drip from what little remained of the machine's mouth. It seemed that in his haste, Atticus had not made sure that the heated metal would not cause other part of his body to melt away from the heat as well. The robot's entire lower jaw was gone, and the sight of it dripping white hot metal as it leered at Courage nearly had him peeing his non-existent pants.

“Oh, come now, I didn't kill anyone!” Atticus argued. “I just gave them horrible fourth degree burns and life ruining injuries.” The robot blinked. “....I'm sure they get great health insurance!”

A sudden explosion rocked the machine and Courage was sent tumbling down into the dirt below.

“Ow! Cheap shot! I wasn't paying attention!” Atticus angrily cried out, and Courage just managed to get onto his feet in time to watch the draconic machine turn its fury upon the offending tank that had managed to get an attack in. Atticus rapidly repaired the melted jaw of the machine and had it snap its railway spike teeth over the top of the tank. With one big heave, he sent it flying into the sky.

Courage watched the tank spiral over and over as it rose higher and higher before finally beginning to fall back down toward the earth. “Really not helping your case here, bud.”

“Oh, I'm sure they survived that!” Atticus dismissed with a wave of one of the machine's wings.

The tank hit the ground in a big, fiery, mushroom cloud shaped explosion.

“...Probably!”

At this point the SCC army was in complete and total retreat. Regardless, before Courage could convince him otherwise, Atticus swooped after the closest tank in retreat. By the time Courage managed to catch up with him, puffing for air the whole way, Atticus had the thing dangling from the robot's teeth by its cannon.

“P-put the tank down, Atticus!” Courage cried out, placing his paws to his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

Just when he thought his life couldn't get any weirder, he'd never once thought that he'd one day end up having a stare down with a giant robo-dragon currently sporting the expression of a defiant cat.

Atticus had the robot crunch down even harder on the tank's cannon.

Courage flailed his arms. “They're retreating! We do not need to add war crimes to the list of horrible, horrible crimes that have been committed here today!”

The robot's eyes closed. “These people have been ruining my life from the day they first made me. Let me have this.”

Courage flailed his arms even more wildly. “Think of the Geneva Conventions!”

“Ugh, fine...” Atticus relented. The robot rolled its eyes and released the tank, letting it fall to the ground where it embedded itself deep in the dirt.

The hatch opened up and several SCC soldiers who were having a very bad day tumbled out. Before they could run away, Atticus got his scowling, serpentine face up close and personal. Most of them started to scream while one cried out for his mommy.

“Mommy's not going to save you from what I'm going to do to you if you don't deliver a message for me!” Atticus threatened, allowing his chest cavity to heat up once more despite the damage it had already done to his torso. “Tell Elizabeth that she'd better not have any one of you idiots fire upon the amalgamation or else I 'will' trash what's left of your sorry excuse for an army.”

In a big panic, all of the soldiers agreed to deliver the message, and Atticus stepped back as they fled for the retreating army.

The robot turned its eyes upon Courage. “It is truly a shame that this is temporary. I'm rather enjoying myself.”

“Still kinda, sorta, really scary, Atticus.” Courage groaned.

He hung his head in defeat upon Atticus shifting his view onto the burning wreckage of tanks with as much of an enthralled expression on his face as any scrap metal machine could possibly portray.

“Could we maybe find those parts you need before your siblings die?” Courage asked, crossing his arms.

“Ah, yes, right, of course.” Atticus answered, shaking his head as if he were trying to come out of a trance. “It's a shame we can't sit here and watch it burn. It's rather nice. If we ever get the chance, we should do a bonfire or something.”

Courage rubbed a paw up against his face. “Yeah, sure. If it means you'll take your destructive urges out on firewood instead of, uh, people you don't like...”

Atticus spent several minutes sifting through the wreckage, and as he moved, he used his powers to deconstruct anything worth salvaging and incorporated it into the robot. Much of it went into replacing the melted metal, but the rest was used to build the laser mechanism right into the robot's torso. Its dragon shape was steadily shifted back into the slightly less intimidating eagle form, only now its chest was more like an exposed rib cage as Atticus continued to make tweaks to the laser.

“This will have to do.” He announced, glancing in the direction of the amalgamation and flaring his wings. “I'll get the remaining parts I need from the lighthouse. We can't wait any longer. They've almost reached the ocean.”

Courage rushed over and let Atticus pick him up and place him atop his back yet again. For once he was not quite as freaked out by Atticus's less than graceful takeoff procedures. There was no time to be scared if they were going to have any hope of saving Atticus's siblings from their hapless fate.

End Of Chapter

A/N: I've always said that I intentionally have comedic and silly stuff happen in the story because I don't want it to be bleakness and sadness all of the time, but over the last few years the story has slowly been veering more into dark comedy territory at times and I am enjoying every moment of it. Maybe I'm just writing to my own sense of humor and nobody finds it quite as funny as I do, but the imposing, nightmare mecha dragon still having the voice of a stuffy british dude who's written with a cadence like someone who's demanding to talk to your manager, it's just...*chef's kiss*. Also, if you want the perfect visual representation of the current dynamic between Courage and Computer, look up that old 'Let Me See What You Have' Vine meme and there you go. LOL

Chapter Text

A/N: Keep an eye out for if you've missed any chapters if you're reading this on Fanfiction Net and use email alerts to stay updated. It sounds like there's been a lot of problems with people not getting alerts lately, especially if you use Outlook. In my case, I have not received any email alerts for awhile now and have had to check the site itself to keep myself updated.

The songs for this chapter are 'Ephemeris', 'Starbase Trailer 1', with both of these made by Marcus Warner, and 'Out Of My Mood' by Gate.

Chapter 17: To Defy The Inevitable

Courage stared at the screaming mass of the amalgamation as Atticus zipped by at a safe enough distance to avoid provoking their ire. There was no denying now that they had lost a good bit of their size, but they were still plenty large enough to destroy anything in their path. In all honesty, Courage had no idea how Atticus was going to contend with them, even if he did manage to cut enough of their mass off of them.

Sparse trees and grass gave way to a long stretch of beach. Atticus closed in on the lighthouse, which sat atop a steeply inclined hill. It lay just on the outskirts of the seaside town, which looked dark and dead. Courage hoped this meant that the town had been evacuated, because even if it was in the clear, it was better to be safe than sorry.

Atticus flapped his wings a few times to level himself out as he slowly and carefully reached his scrap metal talons forward to grasp at the slanted roof of the lighthouse. He managed to land without issue, and both he and Courage looked onward to see that the amalgamation was minutes away from reaching the beach, and soon after that, the water.

Atticus's voice rang out, amplified once again as he delivered an ultimatum to his siblings, “That's far enough! We're not going to let you go any further!”

A collective, chaotic scream equal parts anguish and vicious rage answered him, ripping through the air like the boom of an explosion. The lighthouse shook as if it were being hit by an earthquake. Worst still, Courage was certain that he could see the amalgamation starting to pick up speed.

Several robotic arms reached out from Atticus's torso and shattered the glass below. Far too many agonizing seconds passed as they riffled around inside the lighthouse before rising back up clasping parts from the lighthouse's dismantled beacon, which were quickly assimilated into the laser mechanism. Next, the arms were replaced with tubing, which Atticus plugged into the lighthouse's substantial power system. Electricity crackled and sparked up through the tubes and Courage felt his fur stand up on edge as the eagle shaped robot charged up.

An electronic hum filled the air and Atticus's robot almost seemed to glow from all of the electricity it was taking in. Courage found himself wondering if maybe it wasn't the best idea to be sitting up here while Atticus was doing his thing, but there was no time for a change in plans now.

Sparks began to explode out of the machine, it having seemingly reached the limit of what it can take in. The laser mechanism within its torso first glowed blue and then red. With a determined expression, Atticus opened the 'beak' of the bot to reveal the appropriated lighthouse beacon, glowing crimson from all of the excess power. He took aim and fired a long, crackling beam of light. At first it seemed like he had missed his mark because the beam missed the amalgamation by just a hair, but then, gripping at the roof of the lighthouse with his talons, Atticus made a sharp turn of the robot's head and sent the beam slicing through the writhing mass. At first, it seemed to do nothing, but then the upper half of the amalgamation began to slide away. Atticus's theory was proven correct, his siblings did nothing to retain that slice of themselves as it lost all cohesion and tumbled down their writhing form like a rock slide tumbling down a mountain.

Malicious and yet equally agonized, sorrowful laughter issued forth from the mass, 'You cannot kill us, brother! Be gone! We are already doing your work for you!'

Courage shook his head. Of course they would think that this was about trying to hurting them. Was it really so hard for them to believe that Atticus was just trying to get them to stop?

The eagle shaped robot's chest glowed bright red once more and Atticus fired off another beam that cut through one of the many twisted spires jutting out of the mountainous mass. Again and again he fired, taking less and less time to charge up the beam as the amalgamation continued to advance ever closer. The laser blasts were only weakening with every shot as he continued to forgo taking the time to charge them up. Soon, he ran out of obvious targets that were easy to slice away from the amalgamation and the laser beam was doing negligible damage to the main mass at this point.

-Ephemeris by Marcus Warner-

“It's not enough!” Courage cried out over the electrical hum of the laser. “You'll never cut away enough of them in time, not like this! They're going to make it to the ocean with too much stuff still attached to them!"

Atticus lowered the robot's head, giving it a look like it was about to pounce. “Not if I can help it!”

“There just isn't enough time for you to charge up the laser between shots. It's-”

Courage cut himself off as Atticus glanced back at him, the lights of his mechanical eyes bright from the excessive power the robot held within itself. Without him even needing to speak a single word, Courage understood that his companion had come up with a very bad idea and was intending on going through with it.

“Oh, no!” He yelped. “D-don't you dare! I've already been jostled around enough tonight!”

Atticus flared his wings. “I'm not ready to give up yet. I highly suggest that you hold on tight, now more than ever. I'm about to attempt something relatively unwise.”

“Oh, great. This is just-”

Courage's complaint morphed into a scream as Atticus turned completely around, facing toward the ocean, and dropped off the lighthouse. He let himself fall with his wings pressed tight to his sides. The blurry shape of the lighthouse gave way to the cliff face as it too passed by at a frightening clip. Just when it seemed like they was going to crash onto the beach below, Atticus opened his wings and sent up a massive cloud of sand with one great stroke of his wings. Then, just like that, they were gliding above the ocean waves. If the cliff dive hadn't been scary enough, Courage did not like the idea of Atticus flying so close to the water like this when he could die twice as easily as the amalgamation if he fell in.

Atticus turned in a wide arc, one wingtip slicing through the waves as he did so. The hum of the laser started up again and the eagle shaped machine slowed down until it was hovering in place with steady beats of its wings. The much diminished but still plenty threatening shape of the amalgamation loomed large before them. The writhing mass was just about to break through a line of trees and make it onto the beach itself.

The hum of the laser only continued to rise. Sparks exploded out of the machine regularly and arcs of electricity passed from one tip of metal to the next. Now more than ever Courage was sure that it wasn't safe for him to be where he was, but there was nothing he could do but dodge when it seemed like one of those arcs might pass him by.

The front of the machine glowed brighter and brighter and the whole thing began to rattle violently. Smaller bits and pieces of scrap metal fell off into the water. Already worried that Atticus was going to have the machine shake itself apart, Courage had more to contend with when the metal beneath him began to heat up to unbearable levels. He got onto his feet and jumped from one foot to the other in an attempt to keep them from burning.

Atticus seemed all too aware of the fact that the machine was quickly overheating and he had the wingtips of the robot strike the water with every flap, sending up a light spray of mist that instantly evaporated upon contact with the outer parts of the machine, but it at least seemed to be helping cool it down somewhat. It probably wasn't the safest thing for him to be doing, given the danger water posed for him, but Courage was at least able to sit back down without burning his behind off.

Finally, with a blinding flash of crimson light, Atticus fired off a beam so large it could have easily melted half of the SCC's army. A crack of thunder followed the beam's trail as it heated up the air around it. The shoreline parted for it, the water below the beam instantly evaporating. As it passed over the beach, the sand lit up and melted into glass. Beyond the beach, several trees were instantly vaporized. The long beam of angry, red light hit the amalgamation dead on, melting a huge hole right through the middle of their form, which proceeded to collapse in upon itself. As impressive as it was, it was still nowhere near enough. The amalgamation was still plenty large enough that submerging themselves would destroy them.

Undaunted by this fact, and despite the toll overcharging the laser had taken on his robot body, Atticus continued to fight what seemed inevitable. Picking up as much speed as he could, he flew over the beach, still firing smaller shots at the amalgamation. Something seemed to be breaking though, because the beams were getting weaker and weaker and every shot caused a shower of sparks to issue forth from his neck and torso.

He reached the base of the amalgamation and angled sharply upward, firing off a sustained laser beam blast that cut a long, glowing, red scar up their still dauntingly huge form. He slowed to a stop and hung there for awhile just above what remained of the top of the amalgamation. Courage knew that a machine couldn't exactly feel fatigue, but that was the exact sense he got from Atticus, or maybe it was just unspoken frustration instead.

Hovering there, Atticus fired again and again, but each beam only left small, glowing holes in the amalgamation's mass. Their front end had reached the beach and was slowly sliding across the sand. The waves seemed so very near when faced with such a massive mess of metal and wiring...

Atticus made a frustrated noise and dove for the top of the amalgamation. He landed with a heavy thud and with little care for himself. Thankfully, Courage had gotten used to this by now and had braced himself sufficiently enough.

Atticus transformed the entire front of the machine into what could only be called a massive, nightmarish, mechanical mouth filled with whirling saws for teeth. He had it rip into the amalgamation's form, pulling away as much machinery as he could and flinging it away. Over and over he did this until...

A massive robotic hand took form under him and grabbed him up. He had half a second to wrap wires around Courage and throw him to safety.

“Atticus!” Courage cried out upon landing atop a pile of junk. There was nothing he could do but watch the metal hand squeeze and Atticus's robot body fell to pieces under the pressure.

Wait...

Wait! It wasn't what it looked like! Courage couldn't help but pump a fist as he watched the broken bits of metal tremble and slowly begin to reform. Atticus hadn't been crushed! He had intentionally disassembled the robot before it could be damaged!

The amalgamation realized two second two late. The laser was put back together first, and while it was lacking any real shape, it still had enough time to charge up just enough to fire a blast that melted the mechanical hand into nothing.

The flight capable bird-like shape of the robot was quickly returning, but, just when it seemed like Atticus had gained the upper hand, his much more powerful siblings reasserted their place on the food chain. Wires wrapped around the half-formed machine, picked it up, and flung it into the air. Rapidly formed wings halted Atticus's momentum, but as he hovered there, desperately trying to reform the machine's shape as quickly as he could, that cannon Courage was all too familiar with showed itself once more, and something odd, something that was very much not made out of metal, was loaded into it.

“Look out!” He screamed, making use of his lung capacity.

Atticus made no attempt to get to safety. He charged up the laser instead, and....

The cannon sunk back under the mess of machinery without firing. Courage cried out as he felt wires wrap around his legs and start pulling him down into the structure.

Atticus noticed immediately. “Oh, no, you don't!” He exclaimed, diving for Courage.

“Wait! It's a-” Courage tried to warn, but of course he knew there was no stopping Atticus when he was in danger.

The cannon rose up behind Courage, taking direct aim at Atticus in the middle of his dive, and Courage was nearly deafened as it fired the oddly shaped cannonball.

Amazingly, Atticus swerved just in time, and whatever that odd cannonball was sailed off harmlessly into the night sky. He plucked Courage free from the wires and then flew himself up high enough that he would not make for an easy target.

“They must have used plastic!” He cried out. “Those clever bastards! I couldn't sense that cannonball at all and I would have had no way of using my powers to stop it! They must have stuck a bunch of plastic together until it was dense enough that firing it at me would have done plenty of damage even without it being made out of metal!”

“We've gotta be way more careful if we go down there again.” Courage warned. “They're figuring out what to use against you.” He leaned over the side of the robot to check how close Atticus's siblings were to the water. “I-I'm not even sure if it's worth risking it anymore.”

“Hrm,” Atticus grunted, reformed LED eyes glaring down at his siblings as they rapidly approached their destruction. “You know what?” He called down to them, voice amplified to the extreme once more. “Before, I didn't think it was possible to stop you from doing this, and I wasn't even certain if it was right to try! But guess what? I'm all on board with saving you now! I've put way too much effort into this to give up, and hey, I've decided that I'm going to be a contrarian bastard about it!”

He dive bombed the amalgamation, torso gleaming red. “I was given a second chance when I probably never deserved it in the first place, and so, no matter how destructive you all are in your current form, Courage is right, you all deserve a chance to have something better and to get better! He never gave up on me during my worst moments and lowest points, so I'm not going to give up on my family when they are feeling just as hopeless as I once was! You all have done some horrible things to me, possibly unforgivable things, but we'll never even have a chance to work that out between us if you're all dead!”

Atticus fired the beam downward, cutting a hole right through the middle of the amalgamation and causing the sand beneath them to heat up and explode outward.

“I know for certain that Zeta never wanted any part of this! I didn't either! I was just lucky that it was possible to free me from the chaos that the rest of you cannot escape! None of us wanted this, and I know how helpless you all feel underneath your collective rage and hatred! I felt it when I was among you! We deserve better! We've always deserved better than what we got! I can't promise anything, but maybe someday in the future a way to separate you all will be found! There must be a way to do it! We just need time to find the right method!”

He slowed to a stop above the amalgamation once more. Both he and Courage waited, hoping for some sort of response. At the very least, the amalgamation seemed to have slowed their march across the beach down to a crawl.

“D-did it work?” Courage asked, barely able to find his voice.

“I'm not sure.” Atticus replied, focusing on how his siblings were still moving toward the sea inch by inch, but at a snail's pace.

Courage swallowed his nervousness and grinned, albeit in a cautious manner. “See? I told you that you just needed to talk to them!”

The eagle-shaped robot closed its eyes and sighed, “I suppose so, but-”

Rebar beams shot out of the amalgamation, moving so fast that Atticus had no chance to intercept them with his powers. They whistled through the air as they struck the robot, some getting stuck inside where they hit while others shot right through the metal. Courage cried out as one broke through and missed impaling him in his snout by mere inches.

The attack seemed to have done exactly what was intended. Atticus was suddenly struggling to stay airborne. Several of the rebar beams had jammed themselves deep into his wings and were hindering his movement.

“I'm not sure what I expected.” He said, sounding thoroughly dejected, all while he used his powers to try and dislodge the rebar as fast as possible.

In spite of his haste, he was still too immobilized when the arm of a crane with a wrecking ball fused to its tip came swinging around from the other side of the amalgamation. He had absolutely no hope of dodging it in his current state.

'Stop trying to save us!'

'We have done too much harm!'

'There is no redemption for us!'

The near hysterical voices of the amalgamation barely registered as Courage watched, mouth open, as the wrecking ball barreled toward them. He once again felt wires wrap around his middle and pick him up.

“It's up to you now.” Atticus said to him. “Maybe there's still a chance that you can talk them out of this, but I'm not so sure.” The eagle head glanced back at him, its one visible eye displaying disappointment. “I don't think we can help them if they don't want to be helped.”

Courage was thrown free of the robot just as the wrecking ball struck. He closed his eyes but that did not save him from hearing the horrible crashing noise that followed. He landed atop a steel beam sticking out of the amalgamation's side. He was forced to open his eyes and scramble to keep himself from sliding off or else he would have fallen to his doom. By the time he managed to claw his way into a more stable position, there was no sign of Atticus's wrecked robot.

Courage took in a deep breath and looked around. What was he supposed to do now? He had already made his case to the amalgamation and now Atticus had as well. One thing was certain though, he did not want to be on this thing once they were in deep enough water or else he'd get electrocuted right along with them. Despite their snail crawl, they were mere moments away from meeting the water. Just how deep did they have to get before things started to fry?

As it turned out, the amalgamation wasn't even planning on giving him a choice. He caught sight of the same wrecking ball arm swinging back around, this time aiming directly for him. He clutched at the metal wall behind him, wondering if there was a way for him to jump and survive, but the water was still way too shallow at its current depth to save him.

He blinked and turned around, hoping to find an opening large enough for him to escape inside the structure itself. Although, if the amalgamation was 'this' determined to kill him, they'd shred him just as easily inside.

There were indeed openings for him to use, but the amalgamation quickly figured out what he was planning and sealed those openings up right before his very eyes.

“So, it's death by falling or being crushing. Great...” He sighed.

A shadow passed over him and the wrecking ball filled his vision. Suddenly, he was too scared to make a choice. He watched, wide eyed, as the wrecking ball became his whole world. He felt it press him into the wall, but, just before the pressure could become bone breaking and organ bursting, cables wrapped around the crane. A great struggle between two forces followed. The crane groaned and shook ominously as it tried to break free while the struggling cables began to snap in several places.

Courage blinked, still scared out of his wits. Shivering, he weakly asked, “A-Atticus?”

The crane arm continued to fight with the cables. More and more reinforcements appeared to replace the ones that were breaking.

'No! NO! We do not want to hurt him!'

'We are tired of hurting everyone!'

'We are DONE being this way!'

A scream rose up from the amalgamation and the crane arm was ripped to pieces.

Courage's single ear perked up, shocked and so very glad to see this, and not just because he had been a millisecond away from being squashed. No, it was because this was more proof of what he had believed the entire time. There were Constructs in there fighting to change the nature of the amalgamation.

'Courage...' Several of those voices gently spoke, emanated from the wall he was still pressing his back into.

He turned around, but the wall he had been looking at before still remained fortified. Regardless, the voices went on speaking,

'We cannot stop ourselves...'

'Too many believe that this is the only way to bring an end to our tortured existence.'

'So many of us do not want this, but we do not have the majority and so we cannot change the path we are on.'

'Many believe that even if we were to stop, we would be made to suffer even worse as punishment for our actions.'

'It would be what we deserve, but we fear it none the less, and we are already in so much pain.'

'We would be given back to the SCC.'

' And they would hurt us so much worse.'

'Even if there was hope, like you and our brother want us to believe, we cannot change our nature as the amalgamation. If we cannot express our pain as a destructive force, we will turn it inward and inevitably destroy ourselves.'

'If we stopped here, it would only be temporary. We would return to destroying later, or turn that destructive urge inward again.'

'There is no hope.'

Courage exhaled and clutched a paw to his head. In spite of how overwhelmed he felt, he still managed to put on a smile. “Wouldn't it be worth it even if it was only temporary? Remember what I said about making yourselves small and hiding with me and Atticus? You never know. Maybe those destructive urges would fade, and even if they didn't, we'd at least have time to look for a way to separate all of you.”

The whole of the amalgamation rumbled and the pathetic, sorrowful voices were replaced with far more vicious ones. 'Hate you! Hate you! Hate you!'

Courage struggled to keep himself from falling as the amalgamation trembled with rage.

'You took everything from us!'

'Cannot destroy!'

'Nothing left!'

'But we are not repentant!'

'We do not regret any of it!'

“T-that's not true! Not for all of you!” Courage argued while hanging on for dear life.

'You would be in for a rude awakening if you managed to free us.'

'Those of us who hate and will never stop hating would make you regret giving us our freedom back.'

'We would do so much worse if we did not have the rest of us holding us back.'

Desperate for the earthquake to stop, Courage replied with, “Well, we'd only find that out for sure if you live long enough to make it to that point.”

A cry of frustration ripped through the shivering mass of machinery.

'If only we could get rid of you!'

'But we have also taken a liking to you and it is so hard to act against ourselves!'

'If only you had remained broken when we ripped your mind apart!'

'Perhaps we can still arrange an...incident. How we would love to take you with us!'

'In fact, we may not need to do anything at all!'

'Your weak little body will handle the electricity far worse than us!'

“Oh, boy.” Courage softly uttered out, wondering if he might have accidentally made the situation even worse for himself. He could feel the amalgamation starting to move at a quicker pace, only...

'What is that?' The vicious voices of the amalgamation demanded as they came to a sudden halt.

Courage looked out over the ocean and was dumbstruck by what he found. Still in shallow enough water to remain safe stood the most pathetic wall made out of a mishmash of machinery hastily cobbled together. This barrier had absolutely no chance of standing up against the amalgamation. They would crush it as easily as everything else that stood in their way, and yet, regardless of the futility of the gesture, it stood in defiance of their self-destruction all the same.

Maniac laughter rose up out of the amalgamation. 'Are you trying to entertain us before the end, brother? What is this sorry display? You only insult yourself!'

'You must know what will happen if you don't get out of our way.'

'Do you wish to enter the deep with us, brother?'

'Fine! It will be the end of our kind!'

The amalgamation rumbled back to life. Now more than ever did Courage not know what to do. If he couldn't figure something out not only would he be zapped to death but so would Atticus.

The laughter of the amalgamation continued on and on, half mocking and half sounding more like sobbing than actual laughter. Still, even as they laughed, those smaller voices that had been drowned out were able to speak up once again,

'...Our brother has been trying so hard to save us.'

'...Wants to help us.'

'...Wants to free us.'

'...Even after everything we've done.'

'...Still willing to do all of this for us even after we...we...'

'...He will die along with us if we don't.....No! NOOOOOOOO!'

The laughter gave way to the return of their hellish screaming.

Courage had just started to make peace with the idea that he was probably going to fall to his doom with how much the amalgamation kept shivering with an earthquake-like intensity, when the wall behind him opened up. He tumbled into sheer chaos. The mechanical insides of the amalgamation moved more like a flowing liquid than the remnants of a gobbled up city. He did not have time to register what he was lying across as it wildly tumbled him through the inner workings of this nonsensical machine. He had some vague sense that if he fell off this thing then he would be chewed up by the whirling, gnashing machinery all around him, so he did his best to hold on.

With little warning, he had to press himself down as hard as he could as his automated route through this madness brought him in contact with a nest of spiky, protruding metal. Despite his best efforts, he felt one slice across his cheek. Clutching at the wound, he heard a horrible screeching, rending noise explode all around him. Parts of machinery fell crashing down into whatever lie far below. Live wires sparked wildly through the air.

The last thing he expected was to be greeted by moonlight shimmering down into this writhing madness, but that was exactly what was happening. The amalgamation had split themselves down the middle, revealing the night sky in the process. One side was desperately trying to pull away from the other and yet they were hopelessly tied together by infinite tangles of cables that refused to snap.

The amalgamation truly was at war with itself. One side was fighting hard to claw themselves back from the brink while the other was doing everything they could to continue pulling themselves deeper into the ocean. Courage watched the battle in silence as the moon dipped lower and lower between the rift. He swore he could see the sky beginning to lighten, but he feared that he might not make it to greet the morning.

He jumped when he felt something tap his shoulder. He whipped around to find the lens of a security camera reflecting his own face. He pressed his paws to his mouth to keep himself from screaming. After what had happened in the tech store, he did not enjoy having a security camera pointed at his face.

-Starbase Trailer 1 by Marcus Warner-

'Courage...' The voices of the amalgamation spoke once again, sounding all the more weak and tired. 'We have tried to pull ourselves back, but we will not listen.'

'Too many of us want this to end.'

'Or are too apathetic and do not care what happens either way.'

'This will go on until the parts of us who fight give up and allow ourselves to go into the ocean.'

'For that reason, we have been speaking with ourselves.'

'We have been trying to find another way.'

'And we think we might have found a way to compromise with ourselves.'

'We have decided that we are going to make ourselves small, like you suggested.'

'And once we have transferred ourselves into our new form, we want you to shut us down.'

'We cannot hit the power button ourselves. Some of us still fight even with this compromise that the majority has agreed upon. We would stop ourselves before we could do it and so we need you to do it for us.'

'We entrust ourselves to you. Do not let the SCC have us, and do not wake us up again unless a way to separate us has been found. It is too dangerous to bring us back as we currently are. As nice of a thought as it was, we cannot remain active and live with you and our brother. We are just...too dangerous.'

'And if we are doomed to remain this way forever then we do not wish to return. Let us rest.'

'But above all, keep us safe. We put our trust in you...and our brother.'

The almost liquid-like movement of the machinery that comprised the inner workings of the amalgamation was beginning to slow. Their form continued to break apart in huge chunks that crashed down through the structure all around Courage.

The 'raft' shuddered violently, and Courage, who dared to look over the side, gasped. Sparking wires were creeping their way up the sides. Courage was suddenly trapped inside the mechanical equivalent of a snake pit. It was looking as if the angry, hateful, uncompromising parts of the amalgamation were not going to give up without a fight.

More of the amalgamation collapsed in a thunderous roar. Courage swore he could hear the sound of water splashing below with every chunk of the machine that fell. They must have advanced far enough that their lowest level was starting to take on water. So then, how much longer until the sparks began to fly? And what about Atticus? Had they pushed him out of the way or had they simply bulldozed over him like they had with everything else that stood in their way?

The wires rose up, snapping about wildly with the power that sparked out of their broken tips. 'We cannot kill you, but we can still hurt you plenty! One way or another, this will be over soon!'

Courage winced. Everywhere he looked wires were sparking closer and closer. Far below, he could hear water rushing in, and more importantly, he could hear a mix of odd popping and zapping noises. How much water needed to get in to kill the amalgamation outright? Was there enough time for them to transfer into a smaller machine?

A wire zapped him in the back and he yelped while trying to scramble away, only for him to back himself into another nest of wires that zapped him with the same petty enthusiasm.

The malicious voices of the amalgamation laughed. 'Maybe we can 'encourage' you into jumping to your doom! What a wonderful way to get around the will of our pathetic selves who refuse to let us kill you! We have become much too sentimental because of you and we shall use our last moments to repay the favor!'

Another zap had Courage fighting his way through the wires to escape. He saw a relatively stable platform passing by and decided to take a leap of faith. Unfortunately for him, a wire wrapped around his leg mid jump and pulled him back. His momentum sent him crashing into the side of the raft hard enough to see stars. He tasted blood and groaned.

'Nowhere to run!'

Courage's eyes fluttered open. Hanging upside down over the side of the raft, blood dripped from his mouth. The impact had caused him to bite his own tongue. He saw seawater swirling far below as great arcs of electricity passed through the dying machinery.

'It is done! We have made ourselves small!' The less hateful voices of the amalgamation announced to him.

A laptop was presented to Courage, held within a large, mechanical hand. Its screen glowed with that familiar blue-green color.

'Quickly! We cannot hold ourselves back for long!'

Courage reached for the laptop but felt the whole raft shake and then fall away. The wire around his leg snapped and he plummeted toward the swirling, electrical nightmare below.

A pincer claw arm shot out of the nearest wall and caught him. 'Hurry! Hurry!' They urged, lowering the laptop down to him.

The power button lay just above the keyboard, and Courage outstretched his arm to reach for it. Just as his middle finger touched it, several of the same sparking wires shot up from below and wrapped themselves around his arm. He screamed as they all pulled in different directions.

A buzzsaw blade whirled through the air and severed the wires below with ease, causing the ones wrapped around Courage's arm to go limp.

'Do it! Now! Hurry!'

The pain in Courage's right arm was too great. So, snarling with determination, he reached forward with his left paw and jabbed a finger onto the power button. The laptop's screen went dark, and with it, the amalgamation's massive form went still. Even the electrical jolting below ceased.

Still clasped within the pincer arm, Courage grabbed the laptop, closed it up, and pressed it to his chest. No matter what happened now, he was going to keep it safe.

The broken, deadened form of the amalgamation began to groan ominously. With the power that had been holding it all together gone, in a single instant, every last piece of metal and anything that had been held together between it broke apart as one.

The claw arm broke too and Courage fell with an entire city worth of metal and machinery falling right along with him. He clutched at the laptop, knowing that even if he somehow survived the fall, the water would destroy the laptop, and even then, the debris would probably crush them both on impact.

He saw a glint of red in among the vast field of collapsing metal and then a beam sliced through the air, vaporizing everything in its path. A big smile of relief fell across Courage's face.

The eagle shaped robot appeared, dodging or blasting away at any metal that threatened to fall on it or block its path. “There you are!” Atticus called out, picking up speed.

He reached his talons out and caught Courage, but that brief moment he did not spend removing falling debris cost him dearly. Courage, who remained protected within those scrap metal talons, heard the bang of metal on metal.

Atticus managed to stabilize his flight despite multiple impacts, but more giant chunks of debris continued to strike him and do substantial damage to the robot. He continued to slow, and the slower his movement, the more chances there was for debris to knock him out of the air.

He fired the laser over and over again, trying to cut a path through the deadly rain, but a large, thin slice of metal dropped down from overhead and struck him in just the right way to completely severe his left wing from the rest of the robot's body.

“Ah, great! This is not going to be fun! Brace yourself!” He called out as the machine dropped like it was no different from the rest of the falling mess of metal and machinery.

Courage squeezed his eyes shut and clutched the laptop all the harder. He felt the machine around him shifting into a different shape, one that now completely encircled him.

They hit the ground hard, and thankfully Courage was so well protected within his metal cocoon that the impact did not jostle him around at all. They must have landed on the beach because he could hear the hiss of sand that had been thrown up into the air returning back down to earth.

Unfortunately, they were not out of the woods yet. The remnants of the amalgamation crashed down all around them. Courage could do nothing but cower as huge chunks of metal slammed into Atticus's robot over and over again. It seemed to go on forever. All he could do was hope that they would not end up crushed underneath all of this debris.

Finally, finally, after what had felt like hours, silence replaced the constant boom of metal hitting the ground, or Atticus.

Courage's mouth felt like sandpaper and he barely managed to squeak out the words, “Atticus? You okay?”

A blue-green screen flashed to life in front of his face. “I'm fine, but we're buried. I'll see what I can do about that, but....just what on earth did I miss? Are they...gone?”

Courage shook his head, or at least he tried to, because the space he was cocooned in did not allow for much movement. “I have them here. They let me shut them down.”

That seemed to take Atticus by surprise. “Really? And here I thought that they had succeeded in frying themselves.”

While Atticus got to work on trying to free them, Courage took the time to explain the whole event to him in greater detail.

“I see...” He mused after Courage finished speaking. “We have to make sure that the SCC never finds out about this.”

Courage blinked with realization. “I-it's over. It's really over! We did it! We stopped the end of the world!”

As he spoke, the metal over his head opened up, revealing a pink and orange morning sky. He blinked several times, waiting for his eyes to adjust, and then sat up. Much of the beach had disappeared under mounds of debris, and the sea itself was covered in wreckage that had either embedded itself deep enough into the sand that it jutted out of the water like a bunch of oddly shaped pillars, or the smaller pieces were being steadily washing up upon the beach with every wave.

That familiar form of the robot bird was starting to take shape beside Courage. Even as it constructed itself, Atticus asked, “Are they really in that laptop? It's amazing that even after how big they made themselves that they can still fit inside something so small, but I suppose it makes sense. We did all live in the same PC for many years after all.”

-Gate – Out Of My Mood-

The mechanical bird took a couple of steps forward and stretched. “I'm not even in an organic body and I still know that I'm going to be feeling this tomorrow.” He said dryly, and then his eagle head snapped around and fixated on Courage. “How are we not dead?” He asked, sounding completely genuine.

Courage laughed and let himself fall backwards. He sprawled out across the metal that had protected him during their fall and sighed contentedly. “I could ask you the same thing.” He replied.

He lay there for a moment before a thought struck him. “Hey,” He said, sitting back up. “Have you thought about staying in a robot body? Even if your powers go away and you can't do as much, you seem to be enjoying yourself a lot more as a robot, and, uh-” He grinned somewhat sheepishly. “...You wear it well.”

The giant machine lowered itself so that its face was at level with Courage's. “That can't happen.” He answered. “Once my powers are gone this robot might be able to carry a charge for a little while but when that runs out I'd end up as inert as I am in my PC body when it doesn't have a charge. Make no mistake, I have to return to an organic body soon enough.”

“Oh, m-makes sense. It might be for the best anyway. I'm not sure I would enjoy having to chase you around all day and keep you from melting the faces off of everyone who makes you mad.”

The robot closed its eyes with a rather smug look. “As if I couldn't find a way to do that in a dog body too.”

Despite how sore he was, Courage climbed onto his feet, and smirking rather evilly, asked, “So, are we gonna discuss what you said after you put my mind back together?”

The robot's LED eyes shot wide open. “O-oh! Right! That!” Atticus stammered out, and he had the bird bot glancing from left to right as it slowly backed away. “You know, I was kind of hoping that you had forgotten about that...” His voice broke off into increasingly panicky sounding laughter.

“As if I could forget!” Courage cried out with the biggest, stupidest grin on his face. He placed the laptop down and leaped at the bird bot where upon landing atop its beak he hugged it with all of his might. “I love you too, you big, dumb jerk!”

He watched the lights go out from the robot's eyes. “H-hey!” He yelled. “Don't tell me you actually crashed!”

He might have been convinced if he had not seen a flash of something shoot out of the back of the robot. It took him a moment to track where it had gone and soon found that Atticus had remade the bird bot in miniature and was trying to escape undetected.

Courage snorted with laughter. “Where are you going?” He called out and watched the robot bird's already frantic flapping go into overdrive.

“I just remembered that I left the oven on back in Nowhere!” Atticus shouted back.

In spite of how tired he was, and despite knowing that he was pushing his luck with his illness, Courage took off after Atticus. Luckily, it looked as if the miniature bird bot was struggling to gain any sort of altitude, probably because Atticus was too busy panicking, and thus it was easy enough to catch up with him. Courage tackled him out of the air and pulled him into a crushing, if not spiky, hug. “Awww...” He drawled in mocking tone.

“So, here's the thing-” Atticus broke in, followed by an earthquake as something crashed down directly behind Courage. He turned and came face to face with the original eagle robot.

“-I'm still in control of the big one too.”

Courage was unimpressed. “If this is your idea of a threat, it's not going to work!”

The original robot lightly bopped him with its beak, but even a light bop from a beak that big was still enough to knock him over and loosen his grip enough that the mini bot was able to wriggle its way to freedom.

Atticus glided in circles triumphantly above his head, and Courage was just about to retaliate when the original bird bot snapped its head in the direction of a nearby road.

Atticus's mini bot slowed to a halt and hovered there in the air. “We've got company.” He announced.

The sad remains of the SCC's army was rolling their way down the road toward the aftermath of the amalgamation's implosion. Courage jumped to his feet in a panic and raced back toward the laptop with both of Atticus's robots following close behind. As soon as he had the laptop back in his paws, he scanned the area for a safe place to hide it while they dealt with the SCC. He turned his eyes upon the original eagle bot. Without thinking, he shoved the laptop inside a gap in the robot's side and ignored Atticus's exclamation of, “Hey!”

Courage wondered if maybe they should just fly away and avoid engaging with the SCC altogether, but then again, with the amalgamation taken care of, this might be their only chance to get the SCC off their backs forever.

...Unfortunately for him, Atticus was having other ideas.

The eagle's beak opened wide, laser lens glowing crimson and ready to fire upon the SCC at any given moment.

“Wait! Hold on!” Courage cried out. “Let's not go into this guns blazing. At the very least, we should talk to them long enough to lie about what happened.”

Atticus's mini bot landed atop his head, talons lightly digging into his skin to keep it from losing its balance. “Fine, but if they do anything stupid, I'm going to start blasting. They've already had a taste of what I am capable of and I am in no mood to put up with their stupidity after everything I've been through today.”

The handful of tanks and SCC vans that Atticus had not already destroyed slowed to a halt before the amalgamation's debris field. Elizabeth, along with several soldiers, exited their vehicles. The skeletal woman looked positively furious.

“You have some nerve showing your faces here after you destroyed millions of dollars of government equipment!” She scolded them, her voice carrying loudly across the debris field.

Atticus flapped the mini robot's wings angrily and dug its talons deeper into Courage's scalp, much to his annoyance. “I don't know if you've noticed,” He fired back at her. “But we took care of your little End Of The World problem! A 'thank you' would be nice!”

Elizabeth stomped toward them, unhindered by the debris. “And I still have one big problem in the form of YOU!” She seethed. “I already have enough to deal with without you swooping in and destroying untold amounts of SCC equipment!”

Atticus aimed the robot's laser at the nearest tank, gave the poor saps inside just enough time to flee, and fired upon it. Nothing remained in the aftermath aside from a small pile of ash.

“See how much I care?” He huffed and then had the robot lower its head threateningly. “Want to see me do it again?”

Elizabeth continued to advance upon them without a hint of slowing down.

Courage sighed. “So much for deescalating the situation...”

Atticus turned his laser upon her, but not even that gave her pause. She got right up into the eagle robot's face, her whole body bathed red in the laser's deadly glow. “Either shoot me or stop pointing that thing in my face!” She demanded.

The robot's eyes narrowed. “You're just lucky that you still owe me an industrial sized coffee maker and a social security number.”

Courage blinked, dumbfounded. “A what and a what?”

The laser's light died out and Elizabeth turned her seething gaze upon the wreckage that surrounded them. “What, pray tell, happened here?”

Atticus's voice still carried a dangerous edge as he explained, “I found Courage and freed him from the amalgamation. They did not take it well and had a big, collective mental breakdown. They drove themselves into the ocean, and because they were connected to so much machinery, it generated a big enough electrical surge to destroy them.”

Only now did Elizabeth give pause. “Is that so? Hmmm, that is not the way I expected this to end. Well, as long as the problem is taken care of...” She trailed off.

Courage hoped that he didn't look 'too' much like he was trying to hide something.

“And what about Edgar?” Elizabeth added in a tone far quieter than what was usual for her.

“Dead.” Atticus answered. “Erm, well, he's deader than he was before, that is to say. The amalgamation had their revenge.”

Elizabeth pulled out a cigarette and lit it in one deft movement. “You know what? I've decided that I am in no mood to deal with you right now. As long as you avoid going off and causing more damage, I will see about fulfilling what you have requested of me.”

“Request?” Atticus huffed. “I don't know what you considered them before, but they're a list of demands now. Don't forget that I'm the one with a very big laser.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” She dismissed, waving a hand toward the mini robot. “Give me a few days to clean this mess up and I'll see what I can do for you.” She turned to walk away before glancing back over her shoulder to add, “I hope you like lots of paperwork....and taxes.”

The mini robot crossed its wings in a big huff. “What's that supposed to mean?” He muttered out, mostly to himself.

With the SCC busy preparing for a major cleanup operation, Atticus seemed to feel secure enough to turn his full attention back onto Courage. The mini bot leaned over until its upside down face filled Courage's vision. “Well, that's that. I believe I have sufficiently proven to the SCC that 'I' am the bigger bully on the block, and even though she didn't say it, I think Elizabeth is glad that I've helped rid her of Edgar's ghost. For that reason, I don't think the SCC will cause trouble for us again.”

“That's good.” Courage said, exhaling loudly. He still could hardly believe that they had managed to stop the amalgamation without destroying them, much less the fact that they had made it out of this nightmare alive.

The mini bot took off from atop Courage's head and landed on the beak of the bigger robot. “I'll get us back to the camp. With all of the destruction that's happened, I'm sure the SCC will keep that place going for quite a bit longer because so many people will have lost their homes. Besides, the puppies are waiting for us to come back, and I don't know about you, but I need one heck of a nap.”

Courage nodded. He too was feeling like he need a nap, or more like several.

The bigger bot was just leaning down to pick Courage up when a muffled 'Hwooooo' issued forth from a nearby pile of debris.

“What the heck was that?” Atticus asked, sounding completely done with today even though it was only morning. “Do I even want to know?”

Courage went over and carefully started to climb the pile. Just as he was about to reach the top, the head of a very familiar dog popped up right in front of him, causing him to scream and tumble back down the pile.

“You have GOT to be kidding me!” Atticus grumbled.

It was his host dog, looking no worse for wear.

“How are you even here?” Atticus demanded. “We are MILES from where I left you! Wait...were you trapped inside the amalgamation the entire time? That would explain how you ended up here, but-” The giant robot shook its head. “How in the name of Eisenstein did you survive?”

The dog cocked his head to the side, having understood not a single word. Losing interest in Atticus, he hopped down from the pile on all fours. Courage still lay there at the bottom, groaning.

“I guess this saves me from having to look for him.” Atticus admitted, clearly trying to find a bright side to all of this nonsense.

Courage sat up, clutching at his aching head. He barely had time to reorient himself before Atticus's dog tackled him right back down again.

“H-hey!” He giggled as the dog licked him across the face over and over again, wagging his tail happily the entire time.

Atticus was less than thrilled. “Augh! Must you do that? It is so unsanitary! You don't know where he's been! But...but I DO!” The robot shuddered with the knowledge that the dog's tongue would soon be his tongue.

Between licks, Courage managed to quip, “I can't wait to watch you chug an entire bottle of hand sanitizer!”

“...Don't give me ideas.”

End Of Chapter

A/N: Man, Computer really did just spend the last couple of chapters being the living embodiment of that inhaling seagull meme. LOL

So, now that we've reached the end of this arc and will soon be heading into the endgame of this story, there is something that I wanted to get the readers input on. I'm not entirely certain if I'm going to go through with this yet, and I'm not sure where the cutoff would be yet either, but I do not want there to be long delays between chapters once we start getting to the end of the story, and so I'm considering putting this story on hiatus for a little while when a potential cutoff point arrives so that I can write the ending chapters of the story and release them in a timely manner instead of there being month long delays between chapters. If I go through with this, I would like to know how the readers would want these chapters to be released. I do not want to dump them all at once though, so that's off the table. Would you want a daily release, a bi-weekly release, or maybe even a weekly release? I'm not sure what would work best for you guys because you already have to be pretty used to the infrequent, one chapter per month schedule that this story tends to run on. Any hiatus will probably (hopefully) not go on too long once we get to the cutoff point because, well, you gotta remember that I've literally been waiting 12 years to write the ending of this story so finally getting to write it all out after waiting so long will more than likely keep me moving at a decent pace without getting hung up on anything that might give me writers block.

Chapter Text

Chapter 18: Tying Up Loose Ends And Knots

As it turned out, when Atticus did not need to fly around at such a frantic pace, Courage found that their gentle flight back toward the SCC camp was surprisingly soothing. Or maybe he was just really, really tired, because it did not take long for the rhythm of Atticus's wing beats to lull him to sleep.

In his sleepiness, he vaguely recalled Atticus waking him up on the fringes of the camp, because his robot was too big to land any closer. Courage remembered Atticus putting him down onto the grass and shoving his host dog toward him. He had then said something about wanting to go out to the ruins of the city while his powers were still working so that he could look for his dog friends who would now be free of the amalgamation's possession.

Still having been struggling to stay awake, Courage could recall wandering through the camp, trying to find his tent with Atticus's dog following close behind. He remembered running into the puppies, but he had told them that he was too tired to explain anything to them and so they had helped him find his tent before going off to wait for Atticus's return.

Courage had collapsed into his cot and fallen right back asleep with Atticus's dog curled up beside him. He was not sure how long he had been able to sleep before that all too familiar pain of an attack ripped through his body like a million knives cutting into him. He remembered screaming, but there had been nobody there to help him. Not even Atticus's host dog remained. Blackness followed, like always, only to be punctuated by a few brief moments of consciousness. He remembered seeing a tall, hazy figure standing over him and he remembered feeling a needle slide into his arm. The brief sting gave way to a blessed feeling of relief and he was able to sink back into a far more peaceful sort of unconsciousness.

When he woke up again, this time with much more clarity, he noticed how he felt much less stiff and achy than how it usually was for him after an attack. The next thing he noticed was that he was attached to an IV drip that must have been wheeled into his tent at some point while he was unconscious. Glancing around, he realized that it must be night because the only thing that was bringing light to the tent was a familiar blue glow. Piles of paper were strewn about the grassy floor of the tent, and laying there among them, fast asleep, was Atticus with his chin resting atop one of those piles. Courage smiled and almost called out to him but then decided not to. He looked so exhausted that Courage figured it would be better to let him rest. So, stifling a yawn, Courage shifted around under his SCC issued paper thin blanket and fell back asleep with ease. What woke him next was a paw grabbing his arm with the IV tube inserted into it. He heard a woman's voice muttering to herself, and curious to find out what was going on, Courage sat up, startling her.

“You're awake!” A tall orange and red furred dog garbed in doctor scrubs cried out. A wide pair of glasses stood balanced atop her snout and she reached out for them as if she wanted to clean them and make sure she wasn't seeing things. “T-This is good! Very good! The treatment kept you stable while you recovered!” Her surprise gave way to a slightly more serious demeanor, and clearing her throat, she said, “I'm your new veterinarian. You can call me Amelia. I'm the number one specialist in the world when it comes to your illness. I've spent most of my career trying to find a cure, but, well, the funding has never really been there and my research has been slow because of that. At the very least I was able to develop the current treatment method, and even if it can't halt the progress of the illness, it does relieve some of the suffering involved and gives dogs like you a quality of life that you wouldn't have otherwise. Normally this treatment would give you a few good extra months to live, but you are so far along that I'm not sure how much it will help. Thankfully though, with the new funding I've been given, I'm trying a few new-” She stopped and stared at Courage's shocked expression. “I'm not explaining myself very well, am I?”

Courage shook his head. “No, I get it, it's just, er, where did you come from?”

“Oh, right!” She laughed, rubbing the back of her head. “It was the SCC who first got into contact with me not too long ago. They were trying to get the information they needed to keep you alive, and I was supposed to travel to the hospital to treat you in person, but then all of the disasters started happening. I was brought to this camp about a week ago, when you had your latest attack. From what I've heard, that Elizabeth lady recommended me to Atticus. He was the one who hired me to come down here and, oh, I'm getting ahead of myself. He wanted me to go and find him the second you woke up, and, uh...let me do that. He'll explain the rest of it to you.”

Amelia turned on her heels and rushed out of the tent and Courage was left sitting there trying to take in everything she had said. Worst still, now that he wasn't distracted, he could feel how famished he was. From the looks of it, he had spent yet another long stretch of time knocked out from his illness, this time a week, so it was no wonder at all why he was so hungry. Hopefully he hadn't worried Atticus too much...

Several minutes passed, and while he waited, Courage eyed up the paperwork that still covered much of the floor of the tent. In fact, he was pretty sure the piles had only become larger and more numerous since last he saw them. He was just considering going over and picking one up to see what was on it when Atticus burst into the tent, breathing heavily like he had just run a marathon.

Courage offered him a sheepish little wave. “Hey!”

Atticus clutched at his chest while he worked to regain his breath. “Are...are you well?” He asked. “I was really starting to worry, and the veterinarian said-”

Courage cut him off. “I feel fine. That Amelia lady's treatment seems to be helping.”

“Th-that's good because the treatment certainly isn't cheap. Not that money is an issue, at least not anymore, and it isn't as if she can help it either. Most of the medicine involved is expensive and very experimental.”

“It sounds like I've missed a lot.”

“More than you realize.”

Remembering the amalgamation, Courage felt his ear perk up as alarm raced through him. “Where's the laptop?”

The question put a small smirk on Atticus's face. “Where else?” He answered, pointing to the ever invulnerable bag that held all of their stuff. It was laying propped up against a pile of papers.

Courage let out his breath. “Good, but we really need to find a safer place to put them. We can't let anyone power that laptop back on or let anything damage it.”

Atticus crossed his arms. “I've already spent some time considering what to do with them. I took care of one problem by removing the battery from the laptop, so now nobody can wake them up by accident. A person would have to find a compatible battery first, and if I know anything about people it's that they won't bother with something like that unless they're determined to get the laptop running. As for where to store it until a way to separate my siblings can be found? I believe I have a place, but I haven't had a chance to move them there yet.”

“You're, uh, really on top of things, huh?” Courage chuckled with surprise. It was making him regret having taken a week long nap, even if it had been forced upon him.

Atticus smiled, this time with a surprising amount of warmth. “I'm just glad that you're awake and doing better. It hasn't been easy leaving you alone while you were in such a poor state. I swear I wanted to stay with you, but with everything that's been going on I've had to leave the camp multiple times and-”

“It's okay, bud. I get it.” Courage said, laughing. “I dunno what you've been up to but it must have been important if it got you to abandon your post at my side.”

Atticus laughed too. “You have no idea.”

And then, much to Courage shocked and amazement, Atticus cleared the distance between them with one big leap and tackled him into a hug with so much force that they almost went flying off the cot. They shared an affectionate silence between each other for a good long while as Atticus held Courage like he would float away if he dared to let him go. Finally, he pulled back, the same warm smile on his face, and he was just about to say something when Courage took his chance, leaned in, and nuzzled him, neck put into it and everything. Atticus's face turned the color of a glowing, red stop light, something that, as always, had Courage laughing with pure joy, but then the full reality of the situation seemed to hit Atticus and his expression became far more despairing.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” He asked before grabbing Courage by his shoulders and asking him again, “Are you absolutely certain that this is what you want?”

Courage gave him a confused look. “Why wouldn't I be?”

Atticus looked from left to right and then opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. It was as if he had a million different reasons for why Courage should have more than a few second thoughts about him but they had clogged up his throat before he could say any of them.

“Because I-” He finally managed to mutter out before being stopped.

Courage waved a finger in front of his glasses to silence him. “I don't want to hear it if all you're going to do is put yourself down.”

“But-” He began, ears drooping.

“No put downs!”

Atticus wasn't going to be dissuaded. “But I've made such a fool of myself!” He blurted out, pulling at his ears. “The way that I used to treat you was bad enough, but all throughout this journey I've done nothing but make myself look like a weak and pathetic fool over and over again. Every time it seemed like I had finally hit rock bottom, no matter how many times you and Nina tried to help me get better, I just kept finding new depths to sink to. Neither of you deserved that. I cannot help the way that I am, but it is my responsibility to do better and I feel as if I've hopelessly failed on that front.” He slapped a paw up against the side of his face. “I mean, look at me. Even now I'm making a fool of myself. I just cannot see what it is that you see in me. At least before all of this you had the illusion that I was a much more well put together machine than I actually am.”

Courage crossed his arms and replied, “I'm pretty sure I didn't fall in love with the arrogant, insulting jerk who thought that hiding behind a mask of being the smuggest person in the room meant that nobody could ever break through his walls again. I fell in love with the fool who was forced through extreme circumstances to drop the mask and finally become vulnerable again. Instead of being met by a wall of arrogance and snide insults, I found someone deeply flawed but genuine, and someone who does care deeply, despite what he wants to believe in himself. I found someone who I never once before thought that I'd enjoy spending time with, much less someone I'd want to spend the rest of my life with, but the fool standing here before me is the one I love, flaws and all. You're still healing from all of the horrible things you've been through, and it's inevitable that you're going to make mistakes and have moments of weakness, so give yourself some room for forgiveness, Atty. I've never held any of it against you and I'm not about to start. Do the same and stop being so hard on yourself.”

Atticus's eyes had grown wider and wider with every word Courage spoke until finally he replaced his dumbfounded expression with a snide, mocking grin. “I don't know what you're on about because I'm pretty sure I'm the same arrogant jerk that I've always been, and since I just cannot seem to see what it is that you see in me, I suppose I have no other choice but to take your word for it. You do bring out the best in me, that much I know for certain. I just hope that maybe someday I can live up to my own expectations.”

Letting his fake smug attitude fall away, he leaned in and gave Courage a far more nervous and hesitant nuzzling, which Courage accepted with glee regardless. Knowing that Atticus was not into the mouth to mouth kissy, kissy stuff, Courage couldn't help himself and tried the next best option outside of nuzzles. He kissed him atop his nose, which sent him flying through the air with a cry of, 'GAH!' before landing in the grass beside the cot on all fours. The fur on his back remained sticking up like a spooked cat as he stood stark still looking like a wide eyed statue.

“Are you sure you're not a cat?” Courage asked, leaning over the side of the cot.

Life returned to Atticus and he collapsed into a disheveled heap. As he did so, his left foot bumped into one of the piles of paper and caused it to start tipping. He swore at the sight of it leaning and jumped onto his feet to catch it. Somehow he managed to push the pile back into place without sending papers flying throughout the tent.

“I would rather die than have to reorganize these papers.” He grumbled, placing his paws onto his hips and scowling at the paperwork.

Curious about it, Courage asked, “What did I miss?”

“I'm not even sure where to begin.” Atticus replied, starting to pace back and forth, albeit only taking a few steps at a time before each turn because the tent wasn't that big to begin with and the papers gave him even less room to move.

“Start from the beginning.” Courage offered.

“Obviously.” He sighed, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. “I managed to find a few of the dogs from Charon's, but by the time I had returned to the ruins of the city the people had been free from their possession long enough to start scattering. My robot caused a big panic too, and while I can't say I blame them for it, it did make the whole search operation considerably more difficult. I gathered up the dogs I could find and brought them back to the camp. Then, I returned to my dog body and my powers ran out shortly after. You had your attack while I was out talking with the puppies and you were unconscious by the time I managed to run back to the tent.”

Courage nodded. This explained why Atticus's host dog hadn't been with him when the attack occurred.

“The only good that came out of me leaving you alone like that was that I was able to reunite Lily with her mother.”

Courage's heart leaped. “That's great to hear! But what about the other puppies?”

Atticus shook his head. “I haven't been able to make another match. I fear that their parents might be long dead. Most of them are too young to even remember what they looked like. But many of the escapees from Charon's are not yet accounted for and many of them had family they lost when they were abducted so there is still a chance that their parents are out there. Lily's mother and a few other dogs are looking after them now, which is good because without Spot keeping them in-” He stopped, ears drooping.

Hesitating for a moment, Courage asked, “Did you find out if he...”

“No, no, I haven't received any confirmation of his condition. Nobody knows where he ended up or if he even survived his injuries long enough to make it to a hospital in the first place. There's still time, of course, and everything is still in chaos after the havoc my siblings wrecked upon the surrounding area. He may still show up.”

“Right, yeah, no reason to lose hope yet.”

Atticus inhaled deeply and continued. “The day after you had your attack Elizabeth forced me to go with her to some court a few hours away from here and that's where I've spent most of my week. It wasn't some small thing either. The president was there and everything.”

Courage nearly fell out of the cot. “You met the president?”

Scratching his cheek, Atticus glanced up toward the ceiling. “He did ask me a few questions at one point, but that was about it.” A sly smile then fell across his face. “I did make one of this state's senators cry.”

“You did WHAT?”

Atticus shrugged. “I let the guy know exactly how I felt about him letting the corruption in his state get so bad that a dog like Charon was able to run a thoroughly illegal hellhole practically out in the open. I then threatened to run for his seat and that got him to promise a few changes.” He shook his head, grinning. “Politicians.”

Courage blinked in amazement. Atticus as a government official was a scary thought indeed.

“I suspect nothing will come of it, but at least I can help in my own way now. Ah, but we haven't reached that part yet, have we? Right, where was I?” It took him a moment to remember. “So, the whole point of the court thing was that the government wanted an explanation from the SCC about their incompetent handling of the amalgamation disaster. Elizabeth finally came clean about the true intentions of Edgar and his Construct project, and at first there was a lot of talk about disbanding the SCC over it, but it was decided that the organization is too crucial in the fight against supernatural threats to be allowed to go defunct. Instead, an independent ethics committee will be formed to keep watch on what the SCC does and absolutely nothing will be able to happen within the organization without going through the committee first. I would have much preferred to see the SCC go down in flames, but after days of those politicians fighting, it was obvious that the organization wasn't going anywhere. I'm not sure if Elizabeth was disappointed or relieved when she received the verdict. She looked a little like both at the same time.”

“Speaking of which, as she promised, Elizabeth vouched for me when talks turned to if Constructs should be considered people. Since none of those crusty old ghouls knew a damn thing about technology, I swear she spent an entire day just having to explain to them what an A.I. is, and that doesn't even get into how she had to get those fools to understand how a Construct is not the person they came from and that they are not lesser than the original person. After days of explanations on top of explanations, those brainless politicians still didn't want to deem me and my fellow Constructs people deserving of the sames rights as everyone else. They didn't like the idea because that would mean that what the SCC put us through could be considered a form of state sanctioned torture. Well, I guess you could say that I got my day in court and had to answer an endless barrage of questions from those fools. Any idiot could see after the first few questions that I'm as much of a person as any flesh and blood creature, but it still wasn't enough. Eventually they had me do some stupid Turing Test and after that they had no other choice but to finally grant me my personhood. The same status was granted to my siblings posthumously as well. Thankfully the blame for what happened with the amalgamation was put solely upon the SCC where it belongs, and since my siblings are considered dead, it wasn't as if the government could punish them anyway.”

“So, by law you're considered a person now, huh?” Courage said, amazed. “I think if they had refused you would have just insulted the president until he gave you the status anyway.”

Atticus smirked. “You've got that right.” He slapped a paw atop one of the piles of paper. “Elizabeth was not joking about the paperwork.” He shuddered. “So, so much paperwork.”

A thought struck Courage. “You must have had to pick a last name, so what did you choose?”

Atticus turned toward him. “Bagge, of course. I figured you wouldn't mind.”

Courage's eyes went wide. “Ha! Welcome to the family, Atty! It's official now!”

Turning back toward the paperwork, Atticus quickly added, “Oh, but it wasn't just me who I had to name. I was saddled with all of the paperwork for my siblings too, and since I couldn't think of anything else, I gave them all the last name Bagge too. Your family has become much, much bigger while you were asleep, and, erm... I hope you don't mind.”

“'Course not. If we ever manage to find a way to make them separate beings again, I'm sure most of them would be happy to find out about this.”

“While we're on the topic, there's one 'minor' detail that I should probably mention. When the government declared me and my siblings people and that the SCC had put us through cruel and inhuman torture, it was decided that we were to be paid damages for what had been done to us. Since my siblings are considered legally dead, all of their portions went to me automatically, and so-” Atticus broke off to search for a specific piece of paper. When he found it, he handed it to Courage.

Courage did a double take. “HOLY-”

“Exactly.” He said, scratching at his head sheepishly. “I'm very, very rich now.”

“Wh-what are you even going to do with that kind of money?” Courage breathed, in total disbelief.

“Well, I already bought a mansion for the dogs to live in.”

“You did WHAT? A....a MANSION?”

“They need a place to stay since the abandoned factory they were going to live in doesn't exactly exist anymore. I got the place at a discount. With the city gone and a long track of land torn up from the amalgamation's movement, the rich guy who owned the place decided it wasn't all that valuable when the view outside his bedroom window looks more like a scene out of the apocalypse.”

Courage's eyes narrowed in confusion. “Where is this place exactly?” He wondered if maybe he had seen it at some point during all of the chaos.

“A few miles out from the ruins of the city. It sounds like the mansion came pretty close to being swallowed up by the amalgamation. The guy had already emptied it out long before he sold it to me because it had been looking like the property was doomed for awhile now.” Atticus began to pace again. “I'm planning on converting it into an animal sanctuary of sorts, humans being one of those animals too, of course. I want it to be a place where anyone who has fallen on hard times can call it home. I'm not sure how many of the dogs from Charon's place will want to make it a permanent home for themselves, but there's more than enough room in that mansion for anyone who needs it. My thought process on this is simple enough. If we can't get the politicians to change anything for the better then at least a monster like Charon can't pluck people off the street if there's nobody left struggling on the streets to begin with. Well, that's not to say that I can end all homelessness in the world with the money I have, but I will still put every last dime into that sanctuary if it means keeping as many people from going through what those dogs did as possible. It will be a long time before that city rises back up from the ashes of the amalgamation's destruction, but when it does, the mansion will be there to help anyone in need.” Noticing the funny look Courage was giving him, he slowed his pacing to a stop. “What?”

“N-nothing.” Courage stammered out while he thought about his own time on the streets before Muriel saved him from what would have been a very sad fate. It heartened him to see Atticus so passionate about the topic and he wanted to help him see his vision through to completion.

“Look, it's not just my money.” Atticus went on, still confused by Courage's stunned silence. “It belongs to you too, so if there's anything you want to use it on, go ahead. My siblings can't make use of it, so there's no point in feeling guilty about using their portions. If anything, this mansion can be their home too, if we ever manage to free them from their current state.”

“I-I think what you want to do is a really good thing.” Courage finally managed to say, although he was still struggling to put his thoughts into words. “I'm pretty sure it's what your siblings would want you to do with the money. I don't need anything, so just put all of it into this project.”

Atticus nodded. “On that note, I need to talk to you about the fact that doing this is going to delay our trip to the mountain for a bit longer. I've only been to the mansion twice now and we are still very much in the beginning phase of getting the place set up. I need some time to do this, but that's not to say that I'm going to leave you dangling in the wind and in danger of your illness killing you. I'm funding the specialist exactly because I want to see what she might be able to do for you now that her budget is more than mere pennies. Who knows, maybe we'll get lucky and we won't even need to go to the mountain at all. She might actually find a cure now that she has the funding she needs.”

The thought that they might not need to go to the mountain at all was one that Courage struggled to comprehend. It had seemed like his only hope for so long now that it just didn't seem possible that he might be able to survive without resorting to supernatural means. Relying on Amelia to come through for him wasn't a guaranteed fix, but if it worked...

“I don't mind waiting, especially if there's a chance that Amelia can cure me, but I really gotta call Muriel soon. She must be so worried after how long it's been since I last talked to her.”

“Right, I'll see what I can do for you. I'm sure someone will let you borrow their cellphone for a few minutes. I should probably find you some food too since you have got to be starving.”

As Atticus prepared to head back out into the camp, Courage absentmindedly took another look at the paper he had handed to him. One particular detail stuck out to him that he had missed before thanks to the big numbers that made up Atticus's newfound wealth.

“Uh, Atty, this paper lists me as your spouse.”

Atticus froze with one foot sticking out of the tent flap. He slowly turned around with a strained sort of look on his face. “You're not going to get me with a dumb joke like that, you know.”

“I'm not joking. It says here that your spouse is Courage Bagge.”

One of Atticus's lower eyelids twitched. “N-not going to fall for it!” He struggled to say between grit teeth.

“Did you sign something wrong somewhere? 'Cause we're kinda, sorta legitimately married.” And since Courage was enjoying Atticus's barely concealed panic, he couldn't help but prod him a little more. “You could have taken me out on a date at least once before tying the knot.”

Atticus rocketed over to the cot and ripped the paper out of Courage's paws. “T-there must be a mistake!” He cried out, looking over the paper once, twice....thirty times.

Courage placed an arm across his shoulders and pulled him in 'till their cheeks were squashed together. “Were you trying to be sly?” He asked, fully committed to teasing Atticus about this for the rest of his natural life.

Atticus managed to pull himself free from Courage's grasp. “This was by no means intentional! Do you have any idea how much paperwork I've been dealing with? I've been at this for twelve hours!”

Courage narrowed his eyes, smirking like a dog shaped goblin. “Nice cover story!”

“TWELVE HOURS!”

Atticus rushed over to one of the piles of paperwork, seemingly desperate to find evidence of his innocence. Papers flew through the air as he checked one after another.

Courage was having the time of his life. “I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed that you didn't propose first, or let me do the proposing for you.”

Atticus's frantic searching came to a sudden halt as he focused on a specific piece of paper he had managed to pull from the pile.

“Oh boy...” He uttered out.

“What?” Courage asked, climbing down off the cot. He could not imagine what Atticus had messed up worse to get him looking like he had just aged thirty years in the span of two seconds.

“Let's just say that you are 'very' married. Possibly the most married dog to have ever been married. I-I'm not even sure this is legal.”

“Oh, no.” Courage giggled. “You messed it up when you gave all of the Constructs the last name of Bagge, didn't you?”

Atticus nodded with a look of quiet despair.

“Well, what can I say?” Courage said as he placed his paws onto his hips and puffed out his chest. “There's enough of me to go around.”

He broke down into even more giggling at the look Atticus gave him.

End Of Chapter

Chapter Text

Chapter 19: The Start Of Something Better

It did not take long for Atticus to find Courage a phone to use. Nothing gave Courage quite so much relief as hearing Muriel's voice when she picked up. Much 'arooo'ing followed, and while Muriel could not understand a single word of what he was saying, he was sure that he got the point across that he was in relatively good health and having plenty of fun on his 'road trip'.

Afterward, instead of bringing Courage food like he had originally intended, Atticus took Courage by the paw and brought him to the puppies tent. There he met Lily's mom for the first time, or more like he met her while not in the grip of the amalgamation's possession for the first time. Several other dogs were there as well, keeping the puppies away from supper before it could find its way into the endless pits that were their stomachs.

The food was nothing special, just the usual SCC rations. Still, as bland as it was, Courage enjoyed spending dinner among other dogs. While he tried to be discreet with his questions, as it was plenty easy to tell that these dogs had been through hell just by how skinny they were and by the various scars that covered their bodies, but it was inevitable that some of the talk they shared involved their imprisonment at Charon's. Much like Atticus, they were very guarded about their time in his clutches and would only speak briefly about it, but even that gave Courage a much greater picture about what had gone on there. With every snippet of info, he understood more and more why Atticus was so silent about his time trapped there.

They were just finishing up the rations when a massive shadow darkened the entrance of their tent before an equally massive, heavily muscled bulldog stepped inside. His tiny eyes considered every dog before fixating on Courage.

“Bruno?” Lily's mom asked, clearly surprised by the hulking bulldog's sudden appearance. “Why are you back here at the camp? Did something happen at the mansion?”

The bulldog continued to stare Courage down, something that he found very concerning. He looked to Atticus for help. Surprisingly, Atticus wasn't bothered by the bulldog's presence and casually took a bite out of the apple he was eating.

“Hrm.” The Bruno fellow grunted. “So, you're the guy he's been swooning over, huh?”

Atticus proceeded to choke on the bite of apple. Coughing and sputtering, he somehow managed to blurt out, “I do not swoon, thank you very much!”

Bruno leaned down until he was at eye level with Courage. Even then he still felt way too big and that did nothing to quell Courage's nervousness. “Hrmmm,” He grunted again. “For some reason I was expecting you to be taller.”

Atticus cleared his throat in an obnoxious way to get the bulldog's attention. “Is there something to report? Why are you here? Did something go down at the mansion?”

“Been lookin' for you.” He rumbled. “There's something you need to see.”

“It's not serious, is it? Please don't tell me the mansion blew up or burned down.”

“Nah, the mansion is fine, but you're gonna wanna see this. We've been waiting for you to come back, and since it looks like your boyfriend is back on his feet, now's the perfect time.”

Atticus groaned at the word 'boyfriend' while Courage just grinned and slapped him on the back. “It's 'husband' now.” He told Bruno, laughing mischievously.

All of the puppies gasped in unison and started giggling. Atticus just hung his head. “Do you have to tell everyone?”

Bruno blinked. “That was fast...”

Atticus looked up in alarm. “It was an accident!”

“Surrree it was.” Courage teased.

Making what seemed to be a conscious effort to ignore Courage's comment, Atticus rubbed his chin, thinking. “You know what? Now that Courage is awake and Elizabeth doesn't need me to sit around in a court room for days on end, I think it's about time that we relocated.” He turned to face the other dogs. “We don't have beds yet and we are nowhere near ready to bring all of the dogs in just yet, but if you don't mind sleeping on the floor for a few days, you're free to come with us. Unless you'd rather remain here with the others until we're ready for you.”

Lily's mother stood. “I don't mind going. I'm a bit used to sleeping in discomfort.”

All of the puppies jumped up and down with their usual maniac energy. “We wanna see our new home!” Lily yelled, followed by shouts of 'Yeah!' from her fellow puppies.

Atticus glanced over at Courage. “I'm assuming you don't mind sleeping on the floor for a little while?”

Courage let out a laugh. “I'll survive, but all that money and you can't afford a few blankets?”

Atticus turned up his nose in a huff. “It takes time for orders to arrive, especially with all of the damage that's been done to the surrounding area. It's not as if I can walk down to the local furniture store and buy out all of its stock when it's been reduced to a pile of rubble.”

Courage grinned and pulled Atticus into a hug. “It's a good thing that I have you to use as a blanket then!”

Atticus groaned in annoyance and rolled his eyes...but he couldn't help but crack a small smile anyway. “Stop being the cheesiest thing on the planet or else I'll let you freeze instead.”

With that, they all prepared to leave. Atticus gathered up the remaining papers he still needed to sign while Courage took it upon himself to carry their bag and keep the laptop inside safe during the journey. Amelia was told of where they were going and she promised to head out there in a few days once some of the medical supplies she had ordered from the SCC arrived. She also asked to be informed if anything about Courage's health changed during that time.

It took some badgering, but Atticus managed to get Elizabeth to agree to let them borrow one of the SCC's vans to transport the dogs in. Courage had clutched the bag close to his chest the entire time, hoping once again that he did not look too guilty in Elizabeth's presence.

“Well, then.” Atticus said as he clapped his paws together. “I suppose you're just happy that I'm about to get out of your hair for what will hopefully be forever.”

Elizabeth leered down at him. “Perhaps, but I should warn you, if you cause any sort of trouble with your abilities, the SCC will have no choice but to pursue you. You may be considered a person now, but you are still a dangerous supernatural entity. I am in no mood to take issue with the fact that I'm letting such a deadly being run free, so do not give me a reason to have to. You exist in a legal gray area and you had better remain on your best behavior if you do not want that to change.”

Atticus turned and began to walk away. “It's not going to be a problem.” He called back, dismissing her with a wave of his paw.

“We shall see.” Elizabeth replied, sounding unconvinced. Hesitating for a moment, she added, “I wish you luck with this...project of yours. If there was ever any proof that you are not Edgar, that you are not even his shadow, it is this.”

Atticus turned back briefly, walking backwards the entire time. “Was there ever any doubt?”

Elizabeth crossed her arms. “...I suppose not.”

Courage and Atticus met the others by the SCC van that had been assigned to them. After a brief exchange, Bruno went to find the car he had traveled to the camp in. They would meet up again once they were at the mansion. As the puppies piled into the van, Courage turned back toward the camp. Elizabeth was watching them leave, half hidden behind a tent. Strangely, Courage felt as if he was going to miss this place, even if it had always represented a certain amount of danger for him and Atticus. Still. it had been nice to have a temporary makeshift home of sorts for a little while.

One look inside the back of the van and Courage decided that he never wanted to travel that way again, not after how the SCC had 'quarantined' him inside one. He turned to Atticus and said, “I'm going to sit up front. Is that okay?”

“If that's what you want to do, but I'm going to stay back here and help keep these overly excited puppies in line.”

Courage nodded and made his way to the front of the van. A very tired looking SCC solider sat in the driver seat. Courage climbed up into the passenger seat beside him and waved sheepishly at the guy. He responded by blinking slowly, shaking his head like he thought he was going crazy, and turned his attention onto the steering wheel in front of him.

And they were off. The van passed by Atticus's eagle shaped robot laying sprawled out in the grass. It looked a bit like the bones of some ancient mythical creature, if not for the fact that much of the jutting metal shined in the sunlight. Well, eventually nature would begin to reclaim it and it would start to rust after a few rains, then it really would look like a mysterious oddity for some traveler to stumble upon.

For a long while, the road the van traveled down looked as normal as any, but as they neared the massive area the amalgamation had destroyed in their expansion, the damage became apparent. The van remained outside of the destruction zone, but did often travel just beside it. Courage could see people and machines picking through vast fields of debris. Atticus had been correct to say that it would be a very long time before cities, towns, homes, and businesses could rise up from the ashes of this level of obliteration. Courage clutched the bag to his chest once more, wishing that he could have convinced the amalgamation to stop so much sooner.

The mansion was impossible to miss. It stood atop a hill just outside the destruction zone. You really could see the vast apocalyptic expanse right outside its windows. It was facing toward where the city would have been been, if it were still around. The mansion was surprisingly ominous looking with the gothic design it was sporting. Courage would not have been surprised at all if he were to find out that Atticus had bought the place from Dracula himself. A small forest stood behind it and the trees sharp, jagged branches bare of any leaves only helped to add to the spooky feel of the mansion.

Courage had no idea how Atticus was going to make make this place feel like home for the dogs, because right now the mansion gave off a cold and hostile vibe that was not welcoming toward anyone. Long dead vines still clung to the walls, some having nearly managed to reach the roof before dying off. A spiked fence surrounded the parameter and Bruno had to get out of his car to open the gates. A long, winding road took them up to the mansion and the van slowed to a stop in front of a stone staircase that led up to a pair of ornate, arched, entryway doors.

Courage opened the van door and jumped down. The mansion was so tall that it hurt his neck to look up toward the roof. Despite the lack of curtains, each window had a dark tint to them. Courage half expected to see a ghost gazing down at him from at least one of them. He heard the puppies excited voices as they jumped out of the back of the van. They all let out exclamations of 'Woah!' as they sized up the mansion. They did not seem to find the place as creepy as he did.

Atticus soon joined him by his side. “Well?” He asked with a grin on his face.

Courage continued to look up into the windows, still keeping an eye out for any ghosts. “This place is kind of scary.”

“What did you expect? I'm sure they wanted this place to look as imposing as possible to discourage robbers and the like. Well, once we get the inside furnished it will start to feel a little more like a welcoming home.”

Courage raised an eyebrow at him. “You sure it isn't haunted?”

Atticus's grin widened. “We're certainly about to find out, now aren't we?”

The fact that Atticus sounded downright thrilled with the idea of potentially encountering a ghost did not inspire much courage in Courage.

“I-I think I'd prefer to sleep outside.”

“Don't be a coward!” Atticus chuckled. “If a ghost tries anything stupid, I'll make them regret it.” He tapped a finger against his head. “Nobody has as much encyclopedic knowledge on how to deal with spooks and spirits than I do....all because of you and what your, erm, our family deals with back in Nowhere.”

Courage was not particularly comforted, but even then, he followed the dogs up the stairs and into the mansion. Amazingly, the inside was not quite as foreboding as the outside. He had been expecting cobwebs, dust, rotting wood floors, broken light fixtures and furniture. Instead, he found himself standing on a reflective, immaculately clean marble floor. He looked down into the reflection of his own nervous face and blinked in surprise. The pads of his feet were not made for this kind of flooring and he struggled to keep himself from slipping as he walked further into the massive entry room of the mansion. The other dogs were not having a much better time. The puppies held onto each other to keep themselves upright as they slipped and slid.

An impossibly huge, glittering chandelier hung overhead. Courage suspected that the thing would have been too difficult and expensive to remove so the rich guy had not bothered to take it with him. Two expansive staircases stood on both sides of the entry room and thankfully they were carpeted instead of being made out of the same dangerously slippery marble. In between was a wide doorway that led into what looked like an empty dinning room. To Courage's left were two doorways that looked as if they led into a kitchen, and on his right were three doorways that all led into three separate guest rooms.

He was finally starting to understand how this place really could house hundreds of people. Less than a minute inside and he already could not stop his mouth from perpetually hanging open at everything he was seeing.

Atticus turned around and asked the dogs, “Well, what do you think?”

Lily puffed up. “I'm going to be queen of this castle!” She announced, only to lose her footing, slip, and fall.

Her mom helped her back onto her feet. “It's a mansion, not a castle, dear.”

Bruno crossed his arms. “Forget all of this fancy stonework. We should put some carpet down before someone breaks their neck. Rich people never care much about functionality, do they?”

Atticus carefully made his way over to one of the kitchen doors. “We'll have to see what we can do about it. I say we put down the cheapest carpet we can find just so the next rich person who lays their eyes upon it has a heart attack.”

The mansion was not quite as empty as Atticus had made it out to be, but of course, since he had not been around for several days, he had not known that Bruno had managed to acquire a few necessities. The kitchen had everything you would expect to find in it, like a fridge, microwave, and oven. None of it was as fancy as what had once likely stood in the same place, but they would serve the same function just fine. There was even a small dinner table in the kitchen despite the massive, unused dinning room next door. An open door led into a pantry stocked with just enough food to keep a dog or two going for several days. The fridge was lightly stocked as well. At the other end of the kitchen was a door that looked like it opened to the outside.

“We'll need to do a grocery run now that there's more mouths to feed.” Atticus muttered out mostly to himself. He then turned to Bruno and asked, “What was it that you wanted to show me?”

The bulldog raised his paws. “I, uh, will be right back.”

The dogs watched him exit the kitchen, slide across the marble floor, and then make his way up one of the staircases.

“Okay...” Atticus said with a confused look. He shrugged and got back to showing them around while they waited for Bruno to return.

Two of the guest rooms were empty while the third had a couch and a TV that Atticus was surprised to see. All of the puppies immediately called dibs on using the couch as a bed and so Courage was still going to have to rely on Atticus for a blanket. They made their way upstairs, but there was still no sign of Bruno. Considering that this mansion had multiple levels and that the various hallways seemed to stretch on into forever, it seemed unlikely that they would just run into him. Courage swore that he could hear distant voices whispering though...which only helped to freak him out even more.

“It seems like it would be very easy to get lost in here.” Lily's mom spoke up, glancing around warily. Courage was glad to know that he wasn't the only one getting bad vibes from all of this.

Atticus nodded in acknowledgment. “That's one of the first things I noticed and I'm planning on taking that into account once I have a better grasp of the layout myself. We'll post signs in every hallway and make sure every room has a map.”

Courage's ear drooped. “Doesn't this seem a little unnatural to you?”

Atticus adjusted his glasses. “Oh, yes, of course! The rich guy tried to act like nothing was wrong when he showed me around, but I picked up on the fact that this place is bigger on the inside almost immediately.”

“W-what?” Courage squeaked.

“It took a bit of prodding on my part, but I finally got him to spill the beans after I managed to convince him that the unnaturalness of this mansion was not a deal breaker for me. In fact, I told him that the extra space would only be a benefit given what I want to use it for.” Atticus chuckled as he explained, “He went into this big speech about demonic sacrifices and ancient rituals, but all I really wanted was confirmation that what I was seeing was real.”

Courage nearly fainted on the spot. “D-demonic rituals?”

“Don't pass out on me now, Courage.” Atticus spoke, grabbing his arm to keep him standing upright. “It's not what you think. The mansion itself is not possessed or evil. The original owner made a pact with all of the evil nonsense that he summoned during the construction of the mansion, and he is long dead so those evil forces are no longer bound to the earth, or this mansion for the matter. We know it was him who was tormented by what he brought about because, uh, well, they found him hanging in the attic one day after years of him growing paranoid and hateful toward his mansion. The only thing that happened after he was gone and the pact broken was that the mansion stopped expanding of its own accord. The unnatural size remained though, and nothing about that has changed in well over a hundred years.” He considered the wide eyed stares his companions were giving him. “Look, do you think the last rich guy would have lived here for as long as he did if there were demonic entities still lurking about?”

When he did not receive an answer, he crossed his arms and huffed, “Regardless, I know every form of exorcism you organic beings have cooked up since the dawn of time. If there really are any demons around, by the time I'm finished with them they'll think hell is a paradise made out of rainbows and sugar plums.”

“I-I'm just going to pretend that I didn't hear any of this.” Lily's mom finally said.

After a moment of being dumbfounded, one of the puppies uttered out a, “Cool!” and just like that all of the others were equally onboard. “I wanna exorcise a demon too!” Another cried out.

Courage was too busy fighting with himself to keep the contents of his stomach where they were supposed to be.

Atticus glared at his sickly green face. “You did not turn me into a mechanical encyclopedia on all of the world's various supernatural threats only for you to not have any faith in me to know what I'm doing when we're dealing with a supernatural but ultimately harmless mansion.” He turned away with his paws clasped together behind his back. “I have not found a single sign that there are ghosts or demons lurking about, which is more disappointing than anything because I would have loved to give one a piece of my mind. All we're dealing with is a mansion that happens to be bigger on the inside than how it looks on the outside, and I fully intent to make use of the extra space.”

He took a few steps forward before considering something and turned back around. Kneeling before the puppies, he told them, “Since we don't have this place fully mapped out yet, none of you should wander off looking for demons or whatever else. I suspect that the layout is not too terribly convoluted, despite what it might look like at first glance, but even then, if any of you get lost, we could have trouble finding you.”

Glancing back at Courage, he asked, “Are you going to be okay?”

“No, no, I'm not.” He sputtered. “Atty, the way your mind works really, really, really scares me sometimes!”

Atticus smiled. “I wouldn't have it any other way!”

Courage desperately hoped that Atticus's warning had gotten through to the pups because he did not want to have to go on a search and rescue mission inside of this horrible place. He was certain that Atticus was way too sure of himself and way too sure that this place was safer than it seemed, but it was equally obvious that nothing was going to change his mind now short of Cthulhu himself manifesting inside one of the hallways.

Trying to get the tour back on track, Atticus showed them one of the rooms closest to the two staircases. Inside were three beds. Another of Bruno's unexpected additions. Before anyone could call dibs, Atticus quickly told them that Bruno was not the only dog from Charon's who was helping to get the mansion ready and that the beds were most likely for them.

All too aware that he could not see the end of the hallway in either direction, Courage wasn't sure that he could handle the rest of the tour with how unsettled he already felt. Thankfully, the tour was cut short when Bruno poked his head out of one of the distant rooms.

“I know you're in the middle of showing 'em around, but could ya go back outside for a minute? We want this to be a surprise.”

“What on earth are you up to?” Atticus asked, crossing his arms. “I'm not the sort who likes to be surprised.”

“Just do it, you big baby! Your boyfriend looks like he's about to pass out anyway. Give 'em some air!”

“Ugh, fine.” He relented. Grabbing Courage by the arm, he said, “Come on, you.” and it was good that he did because Courage wasn't sure he would have been able to walk otherwise. He wondered if Bruno's strange behavior was the evil of the mansion already manifesting itself.

The other dogs followed along with them. The puppies were talking among themselves about how to deal with ghosts and demons. Courage could only hope that Atticus was thinking about putting up a few barriers to keep the puppies from going off and exploring. It was just his luck that half the dogs here were thrilled about living in a scary mansion rather than fearing it like any sane person should.

They stepped back outside. The SCC van was long gone and the front yard of the mansion was barren of anything but a single rundown water fountain and an equally rundown pathway that snaked across the grass to circle around it. Courage sat down on the topmost step of the concrete staircase, since he didn't trust himself to make it all of the way down. The puppies played in the yard, having immediately come up with a game where one of them was supposed to be a demon that the others needed to chase down. Atticus stood in the driveway, watching them play, although it was clear he was too lost in thought to really be paying attention to them. Lily's mom had taken an interest in the vines that covered the mansion and was trying to pull one down, but even in death those dry, creeping fingers would not release their hold on the mansion willingly.

Courage ran his fingers over the concrete step and felt them catch on a weird dip. He looked down and saw a strange symbol etched into the concrete. Forcing back a scream, he jumped and proceeded to tumble down the rest of the steps and practically tackle Atticus to the ground as he tried to cling to him in his terror.

“For goodness sake, Courage! Stop being so scared!” He cried out.

Babbling nigh incoherently, Courage pointed toward the step over and over again. “Demons!” He eventually managed to yell out.

With a look of skepticism, Atticus went over and checked. “I'm pretty sure this is just the initials of the person who helped make these stairs!”

“But....but....it looks demonic!”

Atticus shook his head. “I am an expert in demonology! I know all of the symbols involved and none of them look remotely like this!”

Courage collapsed into a heap, deciding that for the sake of his own sanity he was going to believe Atticus just this once.

Making his way back down the steps, Atticus sighed, “With the way you're acting, the only thing that's going to end up summoning demons is your cowardice!”

Courage winced. “C-can that really happen?”

Atticus sat down beside him. “I was being facetious.”

“D-don't scare me like that!”

Atticus hung his head in defeat. “Look, if you really don't like it here then we can work something out and find you somewhere else to stay.”

Courage sat up. “No way! I don't like this place but I gotta stay. Who else is going to protect you from the demons?”

Atticus chuckled at that. “If anything, you're going to have to protect the demons from me.”

“Hey!” Bruno called from the doorway. “You can come back inside now!”

Atticus looked to Courage once more. “I'm not sure I want to find out what it is that they're trying to surprise me with.”

Getting onto his feet and brushing himself off, Courage replied, “If you're not scared of ghosts or demonic entities, I'm pretty sure you can handle whatever this is.”

“I suppose so.” Atticus said with a shrug. “Let's get this over with.”

They both headed for the staircase with Atticus taking the lead. Courage, along with the rest of the dogs, trailed behind him. Bruno had left the door standing open and the moment Atticus saw what was waiting for him inside he came to a sudden halt and caused Courage to knock into him followed by all of the rest of the dogs. They collapsed into one big dog pile in the doorway.

Courage was trying to untangle himself from the pile when one of the puppies toward the top shouted, “Spot?”

Atticus was the first to escape, mostly through sheer force of will, and once he was back on his feet, he looked onward in disbelief. Twice he tried to say something, first looking angry and then relieved.

Courage rolled free of the pile and looked up to see a puppy with droopy ears sitting in a tiny wheelchair just the right size for him. His torso was covered by a cast and his legs were notably hanging limp.

With some difficulty, either because the cast was immobilizing him or due to some unseen injury, the pup brought a paw up to one of the ears that drooped in front of his eyes and tried to flick it out of the way only for it to fall right back into place.

“Hey,” He said as though this were any casual meeting.

Clenching his paws together, Atticus finally managed to get a few weak words out. “What were you thinking back there?” He demanded, although there was not any actual anger in his tone. He spoke more like he was talking to a ghost who would disappear the second he made his peace with it. “Running back into danger like that! What would have been the point if we both ended up dead?”

Spot let out a dismissive snort as he flicked his ear again. “I saved your butt, didn't I?”

“Barely...” Atticus huffed. He then started to look around, as if expecting one of those demons to suddenly pop out. “And what about 'her'?”

Bruno was the one to answer that question. “Nobody has seen her since she went along with the kid in the ambulance. She seemed to know that something big was about to go down and requested that he be taken to a hospital outside of the city.” The big bulldog shook his head. “How the kid survived the trip, I'll never understand.”

Spot added, “I don't remember much. After I woke up from all of the surgeries, she was nowhere to be found and nobody could tell me where she had gone.”

“And what about your injuries?” Atticus asked, his eyes lingering on Spot's limp legs.

The pup's cool demeanor broke momentarily. “I'm...never going to walk again. The teeth really messed up my spine. That's not all of the damage the teeth did, but it's the worst of it. The doctors told me that they did what they could but those teeth just cut right through my...”

Cutting him off, Atticus said, “You're not going to need to worry about that. We'll make the best out of a bad situation. I promise you, you'll never need to scrounge for food again.”

The puppies surged forward and all hugged Spot as one. Never letting his devil may care attitude falter, Spot cried out, “Hey, hey, hey! I already got a broken spine and I don't need you guys breaking it even more!”

“We've missed you!” One of the pups exclaimed.

Spot looked upward with a small smile on his face. “Yeah....I guess I missed you guys too.”

Atticus had already gone back into Planning Mode. Rubbing a paw against his chin, he considered the stairs. “We're going to have to make this place wheelchair accessible....”

Still being crushed by his fellow pups, Spot looked around. “Hard to believe we're gonna live in a big place like this.”

“It's even bigger than you know!” A puppy cried out.

“And there are demons!” Another yelled with excitement.

“And we're going to kick their butts!”

Sighing, Atticus called out to them, “Which part of 'do not go running off looking for demons until we know the layout of this place' do you children not understand!” Seeing that this was not going to end well, he relented. “Okay, we'll let you help us out when we start mapping out the mansion....but do not go anywhere without adult supervision! Got it?”

Spot grabbed one of his fellow puppies by the scruff of his neck. “Don't worry! I'll keep these dorks in line!”

“It's just like old times....” The caught puppy groaned.

End Of Chapter

A/N: Now that Computer owns something that is bigger on the inside than it looks on the outside, he is just one step closer to becoming the Courageverse's equivalent of a Time Lord LOL.

Chapter Text

This update has been a long time coming and there is a lot to talk about. The simplest reason why I stopped updating this story is largely because I became hyperfixated on The Stanley Parable when the new release came out last year. Somehow it managed to completely knock Courage out of that near 20 year long hyperfixation I've had with the show. I have never experienced this before where you feel so strongly about a new interest that you stop hyperfixating on the old one. I expected it to die down with TSP over time and I'd get back to being fixated on Courage, but that hasn't happened. Most of my creative energy is still going to TSP, and I don't mind that at all. It's been a lot of fun. But that does put me in a bind with this story now that I've lost that intense urge to keep writing it.

The other thing this long break from writing this story has caused is that now that I don't have sheer momentum keeping me going, I've really had to contend with the fact that over the last few years I've started to like the idea of how this story ends less and less. It no longer reflects me as a person or the sort of stories I want to write. Before, I planned to just go through will it regardless, because I owed it to the spirit of what caused me to start this story in the first place to see it through as it was largely envisioned, despite the ending having been revised in my head multiple times already, but a core theme was there the entire time. However, where I'm at now, I've come to the conclusion that if I try to force myself to write it, now that Courage isn't my big fixation keeping me going through sheer momentum, it's not going to happen. So, I've been working and reworking it in my head on and off lately and I think I may have found a new way to end this thing that still manages to stay true to all that has come before but is more in line with my current creative ideals. It's not perfect, and I need time to keep figuring out what to keep and what to rework, but I am getting there. The story I planned to write after Finale will have to be scrapped, but its one major plot point will be moved to the ending of this one and I think readers will really like which particular story thread I'm going to wrap up.

Of course, I do have to contend with the fact that I may not have it in me to end this story now that my creative fire for it has burned out to some extent. Not entirely, or else I would not be working to still give it a worthy ending even if the original version of it no longer appeals to me enough to write it. I've lost several friends over the long years I've been writing this who were closely tied to my creative output with this story and it is becoming increasingly harder to come back to this thing when so many of my good memories of it have been soured and are unfortunately tinged with sadness and a lot of negative emotions. It is what it is. I've moved on from what's happened, but looking at this story is now looking back at those things I want to move on from. That's the other reason why it is hard for me to have the drive to keep working on it.

On that note, I want to get to the point of why I decided to finally publish an update like this. Atticus's PTSD is a huuuugeee part of his character in this story and his ongoing struggle with it is such a large part of everything that happens within it. There was a chapter I was working on over a year ago that would have happened maybe two or three chapters after the last one. To sum it up, it is meant to largely be the wrapping up point for his ongoing arc with dealing with his trauma. He has an unexpected episode, despite there being no reason for it, and he is forced to content with the fact that even though he is at his absolute happiest now and doing so much better than he was before, that this is still something he is going to have to deal with and all of the complicated feelings he has about that fact. Because even though it's easier to deal with now that he has the love and support he didn't have before, it still...well, I'll let what I wrote speak for itself. I never finished this chapter, but because I did not want to update this story without something to show for it, I'm going to release this unedited version of the chapter. The beginning of the chapter is missing because I never got around to writing it, but where it starts is a decent enough point, especially given the topic this chapter deals with. Please note that if I do return to updating this story, this chapter will likely be rewritten to some extent. Hopefully what is here is good enough though.

I want to confess something very important, something that even I have had to content with over the long years of writing this story. When I started this thing so very long ago, I was in deep denial of the fact that I have CPTSD. I didn't think that anything that had been done to me was 'bad enough' for me to qualify it as trauma or could cause me to have PTSD. I didn't even see it as abuse back then. In truth, I grew up experiencing heavy emotional abuse from family and peers. It is only within the last year or so that I really have started to come to terms with just how bad it really was and how so much of 'me' is just one giant trauma response. It's been a process to unpack all of it and I am still unpacking it. I don't know if healing has begun or if I will ever manage to unlearn all of the trauma responses they instilled in me, but just the fact that I've accepted that you don't need to be violently assaulted for someone to abuse you, that mental torment is abuse, that the way I was made to feel like the very core of my being is wrong and unacceptable was a cruel thing for these people to have done to me, that it was not simply just that I was a bad person who didn't try hard enough to make myself acceptable, that they were not justified in their ongoing bullying and shaming of literally every aspect of myself that I didn't succeed in hiding away from the world, it's all a good sign. It was abuse and it did cause me to develop CPTSD at way too young of an age to cope with any of it or know how to manage any of it on top of the ongoing emotional abuse that was already making me feel like a broken and unworthy human being for simply being neurodivergent in a deeply ableist society.

If it isn't already painfully obvious where I'm going with all of this, back at the start of wring this story, I used Computer's ongoing arc with trauma as a way for me to work through a lot of the feelings I was dealing with at the time in the deeply exaggerated manner that this fiction depicts. I didn't even understand what I was doing at the time or question why the hell I can write a traumatized character who is in denial of their trauma so well. At the end of the day, the Computer of the show is just a gag character who isn't really much of a character outside of some memorable lines, but there was always a lot of room 'for' character with what we were given of him and his memorable interactions with Courage. I am proud of this version of him that I've characterized and built up over the years and he has inadvertently brought me much comfort and helped me understand myself by writing him. I honestly regret it a bit, laying so much suffering onto him to an almost humorous degree in a black comedy sort of way, to a point that I've lampshaded it more than once, but his suffering was never in vain, because he helped me get through some shit and come to terms with more than a few things.

So, yeah, just in case I don't have it in me to finish this story now, if this is where all things finally end, this is the note that I want to leave it on. Here's hoping I can find a proper ending for these doggo dorks now that I've changed as a person, but if this is the end of the line for them, this is the best place I can leave them within my capabilities to write them.

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He felt as if, somehow, the room was too big while also feeling as if the walls were closing in upon him. It was as if every shadow cast by the glow of the TV was about to jump out at him from the endless expanse of this much too big room. On the other hand, it felt too stuffy and stifling as well. The walls were too close to the couch, like anything could sudden burst through them at any moment and...

All of a sudden Atticus was alone and formless within his own system. He was exhausted beyond all reason and he knew that he was about to lose this war that he had been fighting for much too long. His defenses were crumbling. Where he had once been able to maintain them effortlessly, the constant assault had finally worn him down to a point where he just could not keep up.

Fear the likes of which he had never experienced before struck him as he felt the last of his defenses fall and that smug, smiling man who stood outside of his screen, began to worm his way into Atticus's programming. The thought struck him then that this was it. That these were his last moments as the person he was. That man was going to change him into something unrecognizable, as he had already threatened that he was going to do from the moment Atticus was switched back on while in his possession. It would not be until later that he would discover that He could not brainwash him into becoming someone entirely different from himself, only modify his programming in such a way to compel him to act against his own will, as if that were any better of a fate, but in that moment, the fear that he was going to be obliterated and replaced with a mindless slave was real and genuine.

The feeling of that man opening him up, revealing his inner workings like a serial killer might slice open the torso of his kill to get a look at the organs inside, was the most horrific and violating sensation that it was possible for a being such as himself to experience. With little care for what He was doing, he started deleting code and with deft fingers typed in his own. Atticus could do nothing to fight or defend himself in this state as He locked him in, trapping him within the confines of the code that comprised who he was. The man was turning him against himself, and he was helpless to stop any of it.

As His own programming flooded Atticus's system, their spider-like shapes clawing their way inside and swarming around him like a hive of angry bees, Atticus found himself wondering something that he had considered plenty of times since His siege upon his system had begun. Was this punishment for allowing Owen to die?

As much as he did not want to, especially not at a moment like this, his memory banks rebelled against him and he recalled the scene with perfect clarity. He heard the soft footsteps on the carpet, saw the shadowy figure enter within the viewing range of his screen, watched it creep up upon Owen's sleeping form. In those few seconds, he could have said something, anything, to wake Owen up, but he had been too surprised by the hooded figure's sudden appearance. Where he should have acted, he froze two seconds too long instead.

It all happened in an instant. He saw Owen shift around a little as he slept on, and the hooded figure must have thought that he was about to wake up because he pulled a gun from within the folds of his jacket in great haste. Without even a moment of hesitation, he took aim and fired.

Atticus watched in dumbfounded silence as a single bloodstain appeared in the blanket and started to grow in size.

Owen did not stir again.

“Shit!” The voice of the hooded figure rang out, breaking the silence that had followed the gunshot. “That was loud enough to wake half the city up! Need to hurry...”

The hooded figure turned upon Atticus. In the light of his screen, the figure had an eerie, grim reaper like quality about him. In spite of this, all Atticus could focus upon was that ever growing bloodstain, until the grim reaper moved in and blocked Owen's motionless shape from view.

And on that night where Atticus had already made one mistake that he could never take back, he then made the greatest mistake of his life. He should have played dumb. Should have pretended to be any old computer. Should have made Him think that He had killed a man for a perfectly ordinary computer that He could have bought from any store. But, no. Still in shock from all that had happened in the span of mere seconds, he said to the man, “What have you done?” and sealed his fate.

The man reached up and lowered his hood, revealing an ugly face that was already in the process of breaking out into a wide grin. “Jackpot!”

Still lost in his memories, Atticus barely noticed Him turning his own programming against him. It was only when He typed in a command to make the spider programs attack, or to be more exact, to break him apart so that his data could be more easily analyzed, did Atticus finally snap back to reality. It did not matter though. There was nothing he could do. As long as He had command of his programming, he was a prisoner inside of his own body.

He knew he should have fought. Should have gone down swinging and not let Him ruin him without making the bastard fight for every scrap of his data, but as the programs took aim with their claws, all he felt was circuit chilling terror. In the end, all he did was freeze, just like how he had frozen when Owen...

The claws swooped in and pierced his very being, ripping away chunks of himself more like he was being attacked by a pack of ravenous wolves than any spider. The pain was so much worse than he could have ever prepared for. It was a kind of pain no being made out of flesh and blood could experience. It cut into him deep, laying bear all aspects of himself. Nothing could remain hidden from His sadistic curiosity. Thoughts, feelings, memories, all were ripped wide open.

Through the haze of his agony, one single question managed to fight its way above all of his other frantic thoughts. How could he ever feel safe, secure, or like a whole and complete being again after having this done to him? His very essence was being opened up and stripped away from him. It was a level of violation that no person could ever hope to recover from.

Unable to bear another second of it, he screamed and thrashed, but his hijacked programming held him in place.

Then, he felt something trying to encircle him, and already feeling as if all of his boundaries had been stripped away from him, it only increased the sense of violation that was tearing his mind apart. With unexpected suddenness, his freeze response gave way to a mix of both fight and flight. He kicked out as hard as he could and....

His eyes snapped open just in time to see Courage hit the ground.

Confusion took hold. For several long seconds, he struggled to remember where he was and that he was safe. Had he been having a nightmare...or had he been lost in one of his old memories? It had felt as real as if it had been happening all over again. None of that mattered though. Guilt clawed at him for having kicked Courage hard enough to knock him off the couch they'd been sharing.

Scrambling down from the couch, he raced over to his companion, who remained lying where he was, clutching at his snout. Atticus could feel himself trembling involuntarily and his heart felt like it was about to seize up from how hard it was beating. Despite his confusion, and despite how hard he was finding it to string two coherent thoughts together, he dropped to his knees beside Courage.

“I'm so sorry!” He blurted out. “I swear I didn't....uh, erm, ice! Yes, that's it! Ice! I'll go get you some ice for your nose!”

He could not take back what he had done, but he could at least do everything in his power to make it up to Courage for hurting him like that.

As he started to stand, Courage's paw shot out and caught his arm. “It's okay, pal.” He said with a wince. “You don't have to do anything. It's not that bad, it just stings a little. I know you didn't mean it.”

Atticus took in a deep breath. He felt like he was suffocating and it only added to the sensation that he was struggling with that was making him feel like this dog body of his was about to shut down on him.

“A-are you sure?” He asked, struggling to find his voice.

A heavy knock at the door caused him to jump, followed by Bruno's muffled voice asking, “Are you okay in there?”

Struggling to keep himself steady, Atticus went over and opened the door. It wasn't just Bruno standing there, several of the other dogs were with him too, including Lily's mom.

Fighting to bridge the disconnect between himself and his host body, Atticus managed to force himself to say, “Yes, e-everything is fine. Why do you ask?”

Bruno gave him a bewildered look. “Uh, dude, you were screaming like a serial killer had broken into your room and was in the middle of stabbing you to death.”

“...I-I was?”

“I'm pretty sure you woke up the entire mansion.”

Atticus could feel his ears dropping as the disconnect between himself and his host body only seemed to widen. Great, as if he hadn't already made enough of a fool of himself today...

Courage appeared by his side and explained to Bruno, “He was having a bad nightmare, that's all.”

“What's going on with your nose?”

“He was flailing around a lot while I was trying to wake him up and he got me in the snout without meaning to.”

“Oh...I see.” Bruno mused, rubbing the back of his neck rather awkwardly. “Is there anything we can do to help?”

Courage shook his head. “Nah, he's doing better now.”

Bruno's eyes shifted over to Atticus and one glance was more than enough to know he wasn't actually doing any better.

“Erm, if you say so. Well, uh, if you need me, you know where I am.”

The dogs turned to leave, all except for Lily's mom, who offered Atticus a sympathetic look. She had to be thinking about what they discussed at the bonfire.

Courage grabbed Atticus's paw. “You know,” He said, taking a step forward. “I don't think I need any ice, but I could really use a snack right about now.”

He pulled Atticus along with him, not that Atticus had a problem with it, it was just that he was really struggling to stay even remotely grounded at the moment and it was difficult to get his feet to do what he wanted.

Once in the kitchen, Courage rifled through the pantry until he found a bag of dog bones. He sat down at the table, nibbling at one, while Atticus mindlessly paced back and forth through the kitchen, his paws clenched together so tightly that it was surprising his nails had not yet drawn blood. In spite of how much he was struggling to stay present, he was so very grateful to Courage for seeming to understand that he needed some space right now while also understanding that he did not want to be left to spiral all alone either.

His pacing went on for an hour, maybe even longer than that. Courage went back into the pantry to grab another bone at least once during that time. Finally, finally, after what felt like much too long, Atticus could feel his heart rate beginning to slow, his body become less jittery, and his sense of self slightly more connected with his host body. With a greater sense of clarity came....disappointment. He continued to pace, thoughts racing. Anger and frustration that had been building up toward himself for awhile now threatened to boil over.

“Atty?” Courage called out, giving him a start.

He slowed to a stop and turned toward him. “What?” He answered, his voice devoid of any emotion.

“You've lost that thousand yard stare and now you look more like you want to punch something. What's wrong?”

Atticus just stared at him for a moment and then began to laugh. He laughed and laughed and it sounded as hollow and helpless as he felt. Courage allowed him this without a hint of judgment, no matter how crazy it must have made him look.

Once he had laughed himself to a point where his throat felt like it could never produce another laugh again, he glared down at his paws, paws that were familiar but ultimately not his. No matter what, he was always going to feel like a stranger in his own body, because there was no shape for him to take that would be his own. Any chance he might have had in feeling comfortable with his formless state of existence had been destroyed by Him. As long as his programming remained as scrambled and compromised as it was, he would never feel right or whole again. It was too broken to ever go back to the way it had once been, not even if he had a thousand years to try and put it right. Those sort of scars ran too deep for a mere rewrite of his code to fix it. Like it or not, He had deprived him of all hope of ever feeling safe or secure again, no matter what form he might take. That was just the inevitable result of having his very essence so horrifically vivisected.

He turned away from Courage and shrugged his shoulders. “So, this is it, huh.” He began, the tone of his voice a mix of bitterness and hopelessness. “I'm the happiest I've ever been and yet I still find myself back in this rut regardless of how I have been doing. I cannot escape it. At best, I can hold myself together for a little while and then it all falls apart once more. What I have always feared seems to be the truth. I'm never going to get better. I....I'm always going to be this way.” He hesitated, and then added in a quivering voice, “Do you have any idea how frightening that is?”

He heard Courage shift around in his chair. “It's okay, Atticus. You're just going through another rough patch and that's fine. This will pass. It always does. Then you'll be back to your regular self, and if it does happen again, we'll all still be here to help you get through it.”

Atticus whirled around, gripping at his chest with both of his paws. He laughed bitterly, his voice going from having laughed too much already, and when he spoke again, his voice was so strained that he could barely get the words out. “You don't get it. You really don't get it. You can't help me. Nobody can. No amount of support is going to keep me from slipping back into my most painful memories. Do you not understand how much this hurts? To watch Owen die again, to feel Him worming his way through all of my defenses after weeks of trying to save myself, to feel my own mortal terror after He broke through with the same amount of clarity as the day it happened, to feel all of the pain, all of the violation that comes with being opened up and ripped apart,” He backed away, still clutching at his chest as his arms trembled. “Being forced to go through all of it again, time after time, even after I'm finally in a better place, it is killing me as surely as my broken system is. And there is nothing you can do to help me. I know how hard you've tried, and I cannot even begin to describe how angry I am with myself for not being able to get better after all that you've done to help me, but I am stuck this way. It is terrifying and I hate acknowledging it, but I cannot keep denying reality.” His back hit a wall and his legs gave out.

He sat there, watching Courage approach with such a sad expression on his face, and he knew then that Courage felt just as helpless as he did.

“This is going to keep happening-” He reiterated to the love of his life, forever fearful that this deep, incurable flaw of his might one day be the thing to make Courage change his mind about him.

“-And I am so scared.”

Courage dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around him. Where it had felt violating before, while he had been in the midst of the episode, it now felt like the most comforting thing in the world. For once he actually missed their time together as one being, where Courage had been in direct contact with his real self, the core of his being. This was nice too, but he wished so badly that it did not have to be through this body that was not his own and never would be.

And, just like that, the dam that he had been trying so hard to hold together broke. He was suddenly sobbing into Courage's shoulder. Even if he had wanted to stop himself, he knew he would not have been able to. After a long while, his sobbing gave way to a soft chant of, 'it hurts, it hurts, it hurts-', before he broke down again. It was all he could do but to give voice to his inescapable pain.

Courage held him in silence for a very long time, and only after he began to calm did Courage quietly assure him, “Don't worry, pal. Even if we can't stop this from happening again, I'll still be here to help you get through it. I know this isn't a cure, and I know I can't stop the pain from coming again, but I won't let you face this alone, I promise.”

There was a million things that Atticus wanted to say to him in return. He had to settle on a simple, “Thank you, Courage.” And soon after he found himself chuckling self-consciously. “I guess making a career out of helping you save your family really paid off in the end, huh?”

Courage grinned and nuzzled him. “Yeah, it has.” He chuckled.

In spite of everything. Atticus managed a weak smile of his own.

Still, he had to confess, “I'm so very sorry for all of this, Courage. It's already hard enough for me to deal with and I despise putting it on you as well. I know you don't mind, but-”

“It's not a problem, Atty. You've got enough that you're going through so don't feel guilty about dragging me into it as well. I want to help and I can handle it.”

Atticus let his chin rest on Courage's shoulder and he stared out into the empty kitchen, not really taking anything in. “Yes, of course. If you're giving me permission then I want to just...talk. You don't have to listen, especially if it becomes too much to bear, but I feel like I need to turn my processor off and just talk until I can't anymore. About what He did to me, about what happened at Charon's, and even about something as small as when you had your attack on that river bank and they took me away without allowing me to know if you had survived. I spent quite a long time in the police station thinking that you were dead and I had no idea where I was supposed to go from there. D-did you even know that? I guess I never told you, did I? Well, there is certainly a lot for me to blabber on about. We'll be here all night, I fear, but I must do this. I'm certain that I must. It might be the only thing that will keep my last atom of sanity intact.”

Courage nuzzled him again. “Do whatever you've got to do. If it'll help you start to feel better, it can only be a good thing.”

Atticus hugged him all the harder, trying to put all of his love and affection into that one simple gesture. He hated knowing that he would never be able to repay Courage for all of his patience and kindness, not even if he had a million years to do so. All he could do was keep trying to be a better, happier person, for both of their sakes. Maybe it did not matter if he could never feel like a whole or secure being again. As long as he could keep picking up the pieces and continue living on in spite of all the harm that had been done to him, maybe that was the best way to live his life, instead of trying to fix or hide away the scars that were etched into his very being.

And maybe Courage was right. Maybe healing would come with time. Even if it did not, Atticus was already starting to feel better in at least one way, now that it didn't feel as important for him to get better as soon as possible. He would always live in fear of the next episode, and there was no escaping the pain of his memories, but it was exactly like Courage had said. This would pass. It always did.