Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Varian had failed. It was as simple as that. As he was led into his private cell, he let the realization crash down upon him. Two separate attempts, both desperate and dangerous; Both had failed him. It was a suffocating feeling, realizing that this pain, this spiral, this suffering he had inflicted upon others was all for naught. All it had done was twist him up inside and leave and emptiness inside and around him. He was alone.

Hastily thrown into a cell, Varian landed onto a surprisingly soft cushion for the stone cold dungeon. He supposed the King had heeded his daughter’s wishes to give him relatively decent treatment. The bed was around the same cushiness of a sleeping bag he would use when camping in the woods with his Dad on trips they took to collect firewood. Dad...who was still trapped. But...even if he could get him out, what would the man think of him now? Would he even love his son anymore now that he was a treasonous criminal?

Varian was alone. Even Ruddiger had fled in fear when he had used his automatons, and he hadn’t seen the raccoon since. So yes, he really was alone. No friends, no family, no Ruddiger. He buried his head in his hands, soft sobs echoing through the corridor where few would here. Varian was truly, hopelessly alone.

After crying for what felt like hours, Varian raised his head, being strangely met by a greenish-gold light. He looked in the direction it was coming from, gasping when he saw something that should’ve absolutely not been in, let alone fit in his cell.

Varian didn’t know exactly why it was, but he could recognize some of its features. It looked as it was several expensive carriages linked together, but with interlaced mechanical workings. He could spot several gears worked into multiple places on the strange vehicle, and if he hadn’t been in a depression from recent events in his life, Varian would definitely be geeking over this technological marvel.

With compelled steps, the prisoner made his way closer to the mysterious thing, trying to get a closer look. The open door lured him like a sirens call...he found he couldn’t resist. He walked to the door, and then promptly got sucked in, unidentified energy muffling his scream of surprise and fear.

—///—

Varian awoke with a groan, feeling firm pointy objects poking at his sides. Books, he realized, and with a cursory glance, he came to the conclusion that this was some sort of study. What happened? Was he dreaming? hallucinating? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Well, a mentally conjured room of books certainly beat the blank walls of a prison cell, even if this meant he was losing his mind.

“Hey! Get off my books you grimy brat!” Alright, now Varian knew he was hallucinating, because that definitely was a talking rat. Standing tall on its hind legs, the creature was about double the size of a normal rat, and the way he held his posture reminded him of Cassandra or the Captain. His appearance was relatively simple, all black fur aside from rims of white around his eyes and endearing sock paws like one might see on a kitten. Adorning the animal’s neck was a well-loved small white shawl, just his size. It’s hands were on its hips, giving him a grumpy look. Somehow the rodent managed to be both intimidating and adorable at the same time.

Varian quickly stumbled off of the pile of books.

“Wow, I’ve really lost it now. I’m imagining the rats can talk! Ha! How wonderful!”

“With that kind of talk, I’m assuming you ‘dropped in’ here instead of coming in through the door.” Varian sighed.

“Look Mr. Rat, I just woke up here ok? Can you tell me where I am?” The creature scoffed, a short bark of laughter.

“As if I’m going to help whatever random passenger drops into my car. Go find another miserable creature to make your playmate.” Varian’s voice rose in irritation.

“What? No! I’m not leaving through that door until I know what to expect past it!” The rat gave him an unamused stare.

“What makes you think you’re worth my time brat?” Varian paused.

“Hmmm....I don’t know...maybe I just won’t budge until you tell  me what I want to know. You want me out, right?” A groaning sound made its way up the dwarfish animal’s throat.

“Fine. Let me see your number and I’ll decide whether I want to throw you out or not.” Varian tilted his head slightly in confusion.

“Number?”

“Give me your right hand.” Varian held out said hand, gasping in shock when upon his glove being removed, he saw glowing green numbers sprawling from his hand, up his forearm and into the sleeve of his shirt. The rat’s demeanor suddenly shifted quickly like the gears on some of Varian’s machines. With ravenous intrigue, the creature rolling up his sleeve with swift and deft paws to reveal rows of the numbers winding up his arm to just below the tip of his shoulder.

Eyes wide, the black rodent turned his gaze up to Varian’s eyes, gaze searching. The teen swore he could see the slight upturn of the animal’s mouth.

“Who did you say you were again?”

Chapter Text

“So....Varian, am I saying that right?” Varian nodded, awkwardly fiddling with his gloves now that they were back on his hands, his massive glowing number hidden once more.

“So uh...what do I call you?”

“Well, I’ve been called several different things, but you may call me ‘The Rat’. Not to be confused with the lying, backstabbing creature that calls herself ‘The Cat’.

Varian winced a bit at The Rat’s acidic tone when talking about The Cat.

“You really don’t like this cat,huh? Is it because of a whole ‘cat and mouse’ thing?” The Rat tapped his chin a bit.

“See that’s what I thought, but then the more I remember, the more I think it’s a personal vendetta.”

“Remember? Are you missing memories or something?” The Rat nodded, looking down at one of his paws, which Varian noted was a bit darker and discolored, with subtle evidence of scars.

“Yes, I awoke several months ago with no memories of who I was and what I was doing. Though I have recovered bits and pieces, I’ve had to forge my own identity for myself. Thus, The Rat.” He gave a sarcastic and lazy bow at the declaration of his title, eliciting a small smile from the passenger.

“Do I really have to call you ‘The Rat’? With you talking and acting like a person and all, it feels like calling someone ‘The Human’”. The Rat shrugged and began tidying the books, minute, pink feet making delicate ‘plips’ on the wooden floor.

“Well, seeing as I’m planning on traveling with you, I suppose you’re free to come up with a...ugh, nickname” he spat out the word like it was a thorn in his side.

“You’re...coming with me?” The black rodent’s head inclined back to him as he slotted in another book with a sharp wooden clack.

“I know, it surprised me too. But an important thing to know is that numbers dictate your life as a passenger. They can go up; They can go down. The higher your number, the longer your stay. You can see why you interest me, eh? It’d be nice to have a partner that’s definite to stay for a while.”

“Oh.”

The Rat dropped down to his side, paws shuffling a tad at the landing.

“So, what am I being called by the illustrious Varian?” He said in a sarcastic tone.

“Well uh, I had a raccoon named Ruddiger, maybe you could be Ruddiger jr.?”

“Do you think the small rodent wants to be a Junior of any kind?”

“How about Socks? You know, like your white feet?” The animal’s eyes widened and then narrowed in seething anger.

“Anything but that.” He grit out.

Varian was confused at the strange objection to such a common sounding name, but continued brainstorming, moving on from the thought.

“Hmm...oh! I’ve got it! I could call you Flynn, like the Flynn Rider books!” The Rat nodded his head a slight amount in approval.

“A pretty good book series. Sounds fair. I guess you can call me Flynn then.” As they began to head out the door, Varian heard the sound of crunching wood, something breaking beneath his boot. He lifted his leg to find a broken wooden figurine at his feet. Was it a knight or guard of some sort? It appeared to be hand carved. He scooped up the pieces, beginning to profusely apologize.

“I’m sorry Flynn! I didn’t mean to break your thing!” Flynn reassured him, climbing onto his shoulder.

“Eh, don’t worry. That one’s not really important anyways.”

Chapter Text

Well, after traversing through these last few ‘train cars’ Varian could say with absolute certainty he was definitely having some type of fever dream. Flynn had tried to explain to him what a train was, but things weren’t quite lining up for him. He got the basics, several linked caravans connected to a set trail of iron... but this train didn’t match up to The Rat’s descriptions of trains at all.

Flynn had done most of the guiding so far. He’d seen some...strange things. A room full of nothing but ducks to a strange ballroom filled with grotesque monsters dancing to a noise that pained his ears, but passed as music. As they exited the latest car, Varian took several deep breaths, clearly frazzled.

“Geez kid, you sure you’re really up to this? I’m not sure we can keep doing this if you keep freaking out over any abnormal thing you see.” Varian finally steadied himself, looking frustrated.

“But nothing here makes sense! Animals shouldn’t be talking, flowers shouldn’t be sentient, and—how is there so much space in each of these cars! Some even have their own individual weather patterns! Nothing here makes sense!”

The small rodent sighed, rubbing his tiny frontal, hand-like feet together.

“Varian, you have to stop looking at this with the eyes of a scientist! Obviously wherever you’re from, the technology isn’t as advanced as it is here. Nothing’s going to make sense yet. You have to give this time.” Varian groaned, putting his head in his hands. Flynn spoke once more, his voice taking a more sing-song tone.

“Do I need to give you the whole spiel about the train again?”

“Yeah, yeah I know you’ve said it countless times already. ‘The train is meant to be at my service as a passenger.’ I know that, but it doesn’t really change the fact that reality is totally flipped on its head here!” The Rat began crossing the bridge between the train cars, shrugging casually.

“How about you try looking at it with a new perspective in this car? Just—let go of trying to make sense of it. Let it be. Jeez, did that sound good? Something tells me I wasn’t great with words before I lost my memories.” Varian waved him off.

“You sound fine. I get the point, drop the science for a bit. I’ve got this, I can do it, right?” The Coronan turned the handles off the next door with not as much confidence as he would have liked.

Upon the door opening, Varian found himself surrounded by his own reflection.

“Oh great. Just what I want to see right now. Myself.” The teen looked to Flynn.

“Why don’t you have one?”

“Have what?”

“A reflection, why don’t you have one? I have one, but you don’t.” The Rat shrugged.

“I’m just assuming it’s because I’m a train creature and you’re a passenger. Hey, wait! We agreed that you’re not overthinking this car. So let’s just figure out how we get through this.”

Varian shook himself, aggravated that he couldn’t analyze the area more, but determined to stay committed to the challenge they’d set earlier.

“Honestly Flynn? I think this is just one of the one’s we walk right through.” Varian walked through the car, somewhat unable to take his eyes off of his own reflection. It looked so real...

And then it felt real, as it solidly hit him across the cheek. He held his throbbing face which was sure to rapidly bruise. He looked up to see...himself, but in shining silver tones.

Varian gasped and scrambled back in surprise.

“W-what?” Flynn scampered to his side.

“Varian, I’ve seen one of these before. That’s your reflection.” Varian snarked a bit.

“Wow, great to know! Did you suspect this was going to happen?” The rat snapped right back.

“I said I’ve seen one before, not that I’ve seen them here!”

Varian’s reflection glared at them, crossing his arms.

“Are you done?”Varian observed him with interest.

“Are you really my reflection?”

“No, I’m a magical prince of the silver kingdom—Yes I’m your reflection! And no, before you ask, I’m not going rouge. I just want to have a talk with you Varian.”

“A talk?”

“Yes! I’m mad at you! Really mad at you! First of all, you hate me! Second of all, you always bottle up your emotions, and they always go to me! All that pain, and I’m the one who has to deal with it all! Not to mention you avoid me all the time! Do you really care for me that little?”

Varian was stunned, taken aback.

“W-what? I’m sorry, I wasn’t really aware I had a sentient reflection before...”

“Even if I wasn’t sentient, don’t you think you could treat me better? I see you everyday, but you never seem to see me!” Varian looked down. Certainly, when he looked at it in this context, he hadn’t been kind to his reflection at all. He’d been reluctant to look at himself when he’d been making a decline after his father had been trapped. The only times he had seen himself was in the reflective sheen of his beakers and the black rocks. Even then, he’d always look away, too ashamed to see what he’d become.

He tried to think of some way to properly apologize to his reflection. He’d have to have a way to make it up to him.

“Varian, should I call you Varian? It’s kinda weird saying my own name...anyway, I want you to know I’m going to make it up to you, I swear.” The reflection looked at him with skepticism.

“Really?”

“Just you wait. I haven’t been the proudest of what I see in the mirror lately, but...maybe I can try to fix that. To make things better for you.”

“I’ll be holding you to that Varian.”

And with that, his reflection walked over to a group of other silvery figures that Varian hadn’t noticed before. They were dressed in strange clothes that looked like some kind of uniform. Flynn seemed to be talking with one before Varian’s reflection walked in front of them, causing him to look up. Varian followed, curious.

The strange uniformed people stood next to the mirror of Varian, seemingly ready to escort him off. The metallic boy gave a shy wave before disappearing back into the mirror. And as Varian smiled down at his own face smiling back at him, The Rat narrowed his eyes at the familiar sound of whirring numbers.

Chapter Text

Varian was sitting on a glass stool, nursing an ice cream while inspecting his arm.
“So...the number went down by 50? What even determines that?”
“The train is a system Varian. I told you already, numbers go up or down.” Varian muffled a sound of frustration.
“But what even determines that? Why is my number so high? Why did it go down? Can’t I at least want to have the information on this thing that is literally tattooed to my skin?”
Flynn, previously on a stool, leaped to the parlor’s countertop, his feet scrambling himself up.

“Well Varian, what do you want out of your number?
“What?” Both looked to Varian’s arm. Varian looked conflicted.
“A number a zero hypothetically
sends me back to where I was before this, yes?”
“That is the most common consensus.”
“But...I was in a jail cell before all this...so maybe I’m better here.”
“The train can be considered a better life than what some of you were living, yes.”
“Then...I can’t afford for my number to go down! How do I get it back to where it was?”

The Rat gave him a skeptical look.
“That’s really what you want?” The human shrugged, nodding his head with an air of uncertainty.
“Well if that’s what you want, then go ham on it.” The Rat gestured to their surroundings, tall glass structures lined up by an ocean shore with people that looked like glass flutes milling about.

“Wait what?” Flynn mimed kicking and swinging motions.
“You know, ever get that feeling where you want to smash something?”
“You want me to destroy public property?” The Rat gave a lazy shrug, looking impartial as he
began to sprawl himself on the sun-heated glass.
“I never said I wanted you to, just that it’s the quickest way to get that number of yours up again.”

Varian looked to his companion nervously. The lazing rodent made a ‘go on’ motion. Hesitantly, the alchemist made a weak, flimsy kick at the nearest lamppost. It did little more then make a faint ringing sound as his leg glanced off. Flynn laughed.
“You’re never going to get anywhere if you do it like that! You’ve gotta like—actually hit it.” Another half-hearted hit, and Flynn get ups and sighs.
“Let me show you how it’s done.” Smirking devilishly, the rodent picked up an ice cream scooper next to him. He then rushed at the pole, slamming the metal handle into it like a club. Varian winced and closed his eyes, and after a pause, his ears were engulfed in the sound of shattering glass.

Opening his eyes, Varian found himself met with dozens of glass shards scattered about the ground, and a smug looking Flynn in the center of it all. Glass people were backing away in fear.
“And that’s how it’s done! Not that hard, eh? Just need a bit of force.” Varian gaped at the creature. Clearly this rat was more dangerous than he looked. He looked to the nearest thing to be possible to destroy next, finding a bench. He felt an uneasy feeling in his gut. How could he destroy this as flawlessly as Flynn had?

“What makes you mad Varian? Think about that. Direct that anger, that frustration.” What made him mad...Varian could think of lots of things that made him mad. No one lifting a finger to help his father, the Princess breaking her promise...there. Varian could use that. Varian could break this bench like Rapunzel broke her promise. He slammed his foot down the middle of the seat, grinning as the glass shattered to pieces under the force behind his boot. Destroying the bench felt good, cathartic even.

He looked to his number to see it rising again, then looked to Flynn to see him giving him an approving smile. It made something warm rise in his chest. Breathless and smiling, Varian asked,
“Can I do that again?”

Chapter Text

Several cars later with a little more destruction, Varian found himself with a number increased by 70 and a general assurance that he wasn’t going to be leaving this train anytime soon. This latest car had truly peaked his scientific interest, with it being staged with giant skeletal remains, fossils of things like dinosaurs and mammoths, things Varian had only seen in textbooks. Flynn had taken to scampering around and making ridiculous dinosaur imitations, eliciting small laughs from the boy. They had been moving from the dinosaur fossils to some smaller exhibits when it happened.

“Flynn, the Tyrannosaurus rex most likely had those tiny arms for slashing at close range prey.”

The Rat scoffed.

“Well they aren’t any good for opening doors or sealed jars!” The short animal barked out a laugh at his own joke, then paused at Varian’s lack of response. The boy had gone strangely still, rigid even. Flynn’s ears picked up on the sound of rapid breathing, and his eyes trailed to what Varian was looking at.

It was a mundane artifact really, a large bug encased in hard, golden tree sap. There of course was an explanation on a panel next to the exhibit, explaining how things like bugs and small animals getting trapped in tree sap that hardened over time allows for future study. Yada yada, The Rat remembered his Mom reading him this stuff when the school took them to the museum—wait, how did he know that? Ugh, he didn’t have time for old memories popping up now, not when Varian was clearly having a panic attack.

Wait, did Varian have entomophobia? They hadn’t really come across any insects in their travels so far, so he supposed it was rather likely. The Rat climbed onto his passenger’s shoulder, gently tapping him to snap him out of his panicked stupor. He mentally cursed himself. All that his memories told him was that usually he was the one having panic attacks, not helping people out of them.

Varian could vaguely hear someone calling his name. They sounded worried...maybe it was for the same reason he felt close to passing out? He could have swore he’d seen his dad a few moments before...and not in a good way...

He heard a new voice, young and female, his muddled brain supplied.

“You have to stay calm and take big breaths, okay?” He heard deep inhales and exhales, and tried his best to follow. As the rapid beating of his heart began to slow, Varian sank to his knees, feeling a soft, subtle comfort as a worried Flynn pressed his soft head into the alchemist’s glove.

Varian then looked up, his eyes meeting another set of irises, these belonging to a girl that belonged to a girl that appeared to be around six or seven years old.

“Are you feeling better now?” He summed her up. Messy dark blond hair, a tanned complexion that he swore had a green tint to it, bare feet that reminded him of Rapunzel, and a kind face that was not unlike the Princess as well. She was giving him a concerned expression, awaiting an answer.

“Y-yeah, I’ll be fine. Amber just...doesn’t really have good memories with me.” The girl looked confused, but accepted the answer.

A woman then rounded the corner, a strange device in her hands.

“Hazel? There you are. I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t wander off in every new car we go in.”

“But this passenger needed help! He was scared by the tree sap!” Varian coughed in heated embarrassment.

“Geez, it sounds a lot more pathetic when you say it like that.” The boy felt Flynn climb up his arm, becoming a familiar and comforting weight on his shoulders.

The woman looked over at him, sizing him up. Varian squirmed a bit under her gaze.

“Hmm, The Rat, eh? I heard you  aren’t one for passengers, something special about this one?” Ah, it seemed he wasn’t the only one feeling picked apart by this woman’s glare. He seemed to be debating whether to grace her with a useful response or a meaningless one.

“Ugh, fine, don’t make me regret telling you, but I find him intriguing. He’s got one of the largest numbers on the train that I’ve heard of besides yours, and he knows virtually nothing about modern technology! So yes, forgive me for being a little bit curious.” Varian supposed he didn’t mind Flynn giving away the information about him as much as he should have. But something was telling him that this woman didn’t like being lied to, and his companion was giving all the signals of a threatened animal.

The adult turned her gaze back to Varian.

“Is this true boy?”

Varian shrugged nervously.

“I g-guess? I mean, if you’re talking about not knowing what telephones and electricity are? Like—how are you even using lightning to power things? It’s an incredible concept, but how do you even get it in the first place? How do you store it? I mean, I think I get the part about using conductive materials to transport it, but what is the container material? How is it so flexible?” Flynn gave the woman a ‘you see what I mean’ look, watching as her face became speculative.

“Under that information , you don’t even know what plastic is?”

Varian felt the flush in his cheeks go deeper.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not bad, just strange. How do you not know any of these things?”

“I’m not sure...trust me, I would love to know more about all of these things. I consider myself a man of science, and the things I’ve been told of simply confound me! I mean, a carriage that moves itself? Without the aid of horses? It’s incredible! If I could even begin to share that knowledge with the people back home...” he trailed off. Flynn looked at him oddly.

“You’re thinking of going home again?” Varian shuffled his feet slightly, fidgeting with his gloves.

“Yeah. I’ve been thinking about it a bit...and that memory I had just confirmed it. I can’t give up on my dad. Even if I have to wait out my sentence, I’ll find a way out of the dungeons eventually.” Flynn flopped on his shoulders.

“Well, I guess we’ll be switching gears then. I’ll be disheartened to see you go, but I suppose I understand. It’s important to hold the people you love close.” Varian shook the rodent’s front foot with his hand, glad that he accepted his choice. Although he felt a sinking feeling with his travel companion’s response. Something didn’t sit right with how quickly Flynn accepted his sudden flip in plans. Was Varian really that unimportant to him? He’d thought they’d gotten closer in the brief time they’d been spending together. He shook himself. No use in overthinking it.

“A touching exchange, really, but I need to ask your passenger a few questions.” Flynn grasped onto Varian’s shoulder protectively.

“Fine. But I stay to make sure you don’t do anything sketchy. The woman waved him off.

“Fine, whatever. Now boy, what year do you think it is?” Varian looked a tad confused. What kind of question was that?

“It’s 1832, right? What kind of question is that?” Flynn now wore a bewildered look on his face as the woman’s interest seemed peaked.

“Really? Because I arrived on this train on the twentieth of July of 1984...could this mean that my one theory is correct?” The woman delved into some muttering that Varian desperately wished he could make out. But the desire was mostly clouded by the the stunning realization that if this woman was telling the truth, then the two of them had both come to this train from separate points in time.

“Wait, does that mean that this train is...”

“A relative place in time and space?” The two exclaimed in unison. The young girl from before smiled and laughed.

“You two rhymed!”

“How did you guess I was from the past?”

“Well first of all you don’t know anything about modern technology, second of all, your clothing, and third, you keep using words that date to the late Middle Ages. “

“...oh, I guess that makes sense.”

He opened his mouth to speak again, but was quickly interrupted.

“Next question. The Rat says your number is high, is that true?” Varian nods.

“It’s up to my shoulder right now. It pretty much started this way.”

“And why do you think it started that high? The general trend seems to be that the train gives higher numbers to those who have more to work through. I’m curious to know how one started with a number so high.” Varian rubbed his arms a bit, shrinking into himself.

“I’d rather not say.” He heard a loud, raspy sigh in response.

“I don’t care about what you did boy, the train doesn’t have any justice system. I couldn’t convict you of anything if I tried! Besides,  I’m not really one to talk.” And with that, the woman pulled down the collar of her jacket to show the number that rested on the lower half of her neck. Varian gulped. Rigid as a guard on their first day, Varian gritted out his next words.

“High treason and attempted regicide are the big ones—“ Varian gulped, realizing how terrible that made him sound out loud. Great. Just tell the old woman that you’re a wanted criminal in front of her daughter, great going Varian!

The messy girl tapped the woman’s shoulder.

“Ms. Amelia, what does ‘regicide’ mean?”

“It means to kill a king. Or any other royal I suppose. Which certainly does add up to your large number. Can’t get over your guilt? Or perhaps your failure?” Varian flinched. Her words felt like iron barbs, reopening old wounds. He hadn’t really had any time to reflect on his actions between getting arrested and getting tossed onto this train. He curled into himself a bit more. He felt a small but sturdy hand land on his shoulder.

“Hey, it’ll be okay. I still think you’re a pretty cool guy, even if you tried to kill a king.” Hazel’s voice. Varian took a deep breath. Only a few minutes with this girl, and he could already tell she had a heart of gold. Flynn leapt down into his hands.

“Yeah, don’t sweat it kid, I’m pretty sure I’ve done illegal things too.”

“How would you even know what’s illegal?” The Rat shrugged.

Varian watched as the girl moved back to ‘Ms. Amelia’ and whispered something in her ear. Which got an almost immediate response of “No.”

As Flynn climbed back to his shoulder, Varian tried to catch her attention.

“Uh, Ms. Amelia? Now that you’ve gotten to ask me a few questions, can I ask you some things? Like about this train, or the future!” Amelia sighed.

“If you really are from the past, I shouldn’t be telling you about the future. Could...mess up time.

Varian frowned. He supposed that made sense. Yes, that made a frustrating amount of sense. His desires for knowledge of the future would have to remain an unanswered dream.

“But you can at least tell me about the train, right?” The elder passenger looked conflicted.

“I suppose you’ve already seen plenty of this train already...” Varian’s eyes began to light up slightly.

“Really? This is awesome! Are you like, a worker here? I mean like I just kinda noticed your uniform and assumed...how many cars are there? When the cars disconnect and rush back, are they just cycling around? And oh—have you figured out what the creatures are? Why do some look like inanimate objects—“ He feels a tail slap his mouth, looking down to a deadpanning Flynn.

“Easy with the questions kid.”

Amelia sighed, pinching her nose as Hazel bounded over and wrapped him in a hug.

“Can we please keep them?”

“Hazel, they’re not some stray puppies on the street—“

Varian shuffled nervously.

“Well actually, I was about to ask if we could stick together. I think I could learn a lot from you, I could tell you more about the past in exchange? But I uh, wouldn’t want to bother you or anything...”

Amelia glared down at the children’s expressions, from Varian’s hopeful one to Hazel’s pleading eyes.

“Fine! You can travel with us for a few cars. Only because you’re an enigma boy.”

“It’s uh, Varian actually.” He was met with a flippant gesture of understanding.

“Ugh, I hate children.”

Chapter Text

“So boy, we’re going to have to lay some ground rules.” Varian pathetically tried to interject with

“It’s Varian—“

“First. I’m not your mother, or your babysitter, or whatever else you want to call it. You seem like you’re a capable young man; if you can commit crime at this age, I’m also assuming you can take care of yourself.” Varian curtly nods.

“Second, please no excessive questioning, and last of all, no loitering. We make it through these cars quickly and cleanly.”

“Right. Is that it?” The woman starts marching ahead.

“For now. Don’t try your luck.” Hazel trails back near Varian.

“We should introduce ourselves! I’m Hazel!”

“Varian. And I call the snarky little rodent Flynn. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance Lady Hazel.” This brought forth a cheery laugh from the girl, who then sobered up slightly.

“Are you ready to go Varian?”

Varian nodded, following close behind Amelia. The boy was brimming with questions, but he knew he was going to have to take it slow if he wanted any answers out of the stingy woman. As they crossed the next bridge between train cars, Varian increased his pace to what he hoped was subtly walking next to her. Obviously he wasn’t as subtle as he wanted to be, because Amelia’s head turned sharply to glare at him.

“If you have a question boy, go ahead with it. I’ll answer what I can.” Varian found himself laughing nervously.

“Well uh, I’m just curious...I p-swear I’ll ask the questions one at a time!” As the heavy airy sound made it to his ears, Varian wondered how many times he would hear this sigh over the course of their  joint journey. He took Amelia’s silence as permission to continue.

“So uh, how are train cars made? And who makes them? Oh wait that’s more than one question, sorry...” Another sigh. He just seemed to be a master of getting these sighs out of the woman.

“Lucky for you, I know a decent amount about this one. The train cars are created by a robot named One-One, who I also happen to work for. He’s the conductor of the train you see.” Varian cautiously replied with a bit more confidence.

“Uh, 19th century, remember? I have no idea what a row-bot is.” To his surprise, Amelia replied generally well to his small bit of sass.

“Right. How to explain this without spoiling too many futuristic elements here...One-One, he functions like a living person, but he’s a piece of complex machinery. Does that make sense?” Varian hoped his dumbstruck look wasn’t totally clear on his face. But who was to blame him, robots sounded like the most amazing scientific discovery ever! To think there was a near recreation of human life—

“That’s amazing, how—“

“No questions about the future, remember?” Varian immediately deflated, his posture sinking.

“Come on, what’s it going to hurt if I just know a little?”

“It could harm everything! I’ve seen that look in your eye boy, you’re clearly an inventor. If you recreate one thing from the future in your time, it could have disastrous effects on the flow of time!” Now it was Varian’s turn to sigh, slinking back to Hazel and Flynn, who seemed to be having a passionate discussion about breakfast foods.

“Can’t you see? Waffles are like pancakes with abs! Not to mention the way the syrup pools into the little squares, you have to try some sometime! But you should probably let an adult help you, I burned my thumb on the waffle iron once when I was your age.” The end of the statement struck Varian as strange. Flynn didn’t have thumbs. No rats did. Another instance of something being...off about Flynn. He opened his journal to a page of notes he’d been taking on his rodent companion. The more he looked, the more things didn’t add up. He began to add another note to his “Strange things about Flynn” subtext.

Strange Things About Flynn

• He walks and talks like a person (note, there are a lot of other train creatures doing this, maybe it’s a train thing?)
• He’s got an intense grudge against another train creature called ‘The Cat’ (I speculated that this was because of the motifs surrounding the pair of animals they are, but the more he opens up about it, the more it seems like there’s some kind of repressed trauma there. I guess I’ll just have to wait for him to tell me more as we grow closer.)
• His lack of memories. There’s no plausible explanation to how he lost them, especially since Flynn himself doesn’t know. (Maybe I can ask him what he does remember.)
• He knows a lot about the numbers, and I think he also knows more about the train then he lets on. (I thought this might be normal for people who lived on the train, but a lot of the others didn’t know much besides whatever was going on in their car.)
• Why was he so opposed to the nickname ‘Socks’?

He now found himself adding a new entry.

• Strangely human-like knowledge. He knew the word ‘illegal’ in a train with no justice system, and now he thinks he has thumbs. I don’t know what it means yet, but I’m getting concerned.

Varian found himself pinching the bridge of his nose. Something told him that this list was only going to continue growing.  But he did think he and Flynn were getting closer, maybe even bonding. There was a chance that if he asked his small friend some of the questions he had now he might get real answers instead of clever deflections.

He watched Amelia’s arms open the door to the next car with a fluent and practiced motion that could only come from one who had been doing this repetitively. Varian idly wondered how long the woman had been on the train. Yet all other thoughts quickly drained from his mind as he looked into the next car. Gorgeous crystals shone in various tree-like shapes that the alchemist doubted any natural crystals could make. He drank in the beautiful scenery as fast as he could, knowing that Amelia would be trying to get through the car as soon as possible.

“Woah, it’s like a crystalline forest!” Hazel exclaimed, attempting to climb one of the shining trees. She happily scrambled up after getting a hold on the first branch, rock? Varian didn’t really know. The girl then hollered down to them.

“Hey guys, I see the door!” A smirk crept onto Amelia’s face, something Varian didn’t expect to be seeing.

“Good work Hazel! How far is it?”

“It looks like a straight walk from the trees. So I guess, kinda far, but not that far?” Varian then heard a yelp of surprise as she fell from the tree, hitting the ground.

Startled, Varian ran to the girl in concern. To his relieved surprise, she seemed to be completely unaffected from the fall.

“Hazel! Are you okay? You fell from pretty high up there...” Hazel quickly waved off his concerns with a smile.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got my shell to protect me!” She gave an affirming knock on the turtle shell that surrounded her torso before letting it retract.

“So...you’re part turtle?” Varian turned to Amelia, giving her a looked of confusion, concern, and some other things one couldn’t put a name on. Amelia blanched immediately, getting as flustered as someone stoned-faced as her could.

“No. No. You dirty minded boy why would you even think of that first! I’m not even her mother!” Hazel also quickly corrected his thoughts, holding out her dull number.

“I’m...actually a train person. N-no glowing number, see?” It was almost imperceptible, but it was clear that Hazel’s merriment sunk a bit as she spoke. Oh, she was uncomfortable talking about it, wasn’t she?

“S-sorry Hazel! I didn’t mean it in a rude way, I think it’s really cool! I don’t mind that you’re a train person, that won’t make me think any less of you.” The girl fiddled slightly with the hem of her shirt, gaze slightly lowered but still meeting his eyes.

“Really? You, don’t mind that I’m a train person?”

“Not at all. When I look at you, I still see Hazel, now she’s just a super cool turtle person, yeah?”

“Yeah...thank you Varian.”

Amelia turned back to them.

“Alright kids, we need to keep moving, try to keep pace.” Varian suddenly recognized the missing familiar weight on his shoulders.

“Wait, where’s Flynn?” Amelia was quick to fill him in.

“Your rat friend? He went ahead. We’ll probably find him at the door.”

And that they did. Upon making it out of the forest, Varian spotted his friend at the top of a staircase, glaring at the closed exit.

“Flynn! We’re here!” Huffing in exasperation, The Rat scampered down to where the others were standing.

“Door’s locked.” He snapped out shortly. Odd, usually he would add some snarky comment or just inject more personality into his speech in general. Though, Varian supposed Flynn had been  pretty silent for the majority of their travel through this car. It was almost unnerving, the Flynn he knew was never this quiet. He always had a string of words ready on his tongue, a surplus of comments and quips in his arsenal.

Maybe they were all just tired out. Hazel sure seemed to be, yawning and starting to slump against Amelia, who was clearly trying to ignore the fact that she couldn’t bring herself to move the girl.

“We’ll take a short rest. Children...need more sleep or something, right?

“Something like that...” Varian muttered, sinking to the ground against a tree.

Several minutes later, and Varian found any form of sleep evading him. He looked to Flynn, who was lounging on a nearby rock, seemingly concentrated on something...it looked like he was painting.

“Pssst! Flynn!” The Rat turned his head to him, expression conveying disinterest.

“What do you want.” Varian flinched a bit at the icy tone, which caused Flynn’s expression to soften a bit. Sighing, the small denizen set down his painting and walked over to his passenger.

“What’s been up with you today? You’ve been acting all...weird.”

The Rat looked away, clearly wanting to avoid an answer. Varian felt his heart sink slightly. He had really hoped that there was more trust between the two of them at this point, at least enough that Flynn would be able to share what was bothering him.

“Please Flynn, I just want to help. Is it something about this car?”

“Can you just drop it?”

“Can’t you just trust me with this? Or, is it me? Did I do something wrong?” Horror crept up Flynn’s features.

“What? No, Varian why would you think that?” the teen gave a minuscule shrug.

“It kinda felt like you were ignoring me earlier.”

Flynn paused.

“Okay so maybe I was ignoring you a bit. But it’s not your fault, understood? It’s on me. I...I’m scared, alright? I see you with Hazel, and I get scared that you’re going to abandon me for her, just like, like...” Flynn trailed off, his voice morphing into a nearly inaudible whimper.

“Flynn? Are you okay?” the rodent in question climbed onto his lap.

“I’ll...be alright. Just a bad memory. Get some rest Varian.”

Chapter Text

When they arose from their rest, Varian found that the refreshed aura he was feeling was not from resting, but from talking things out with Flynn. The animal had even hesitantly showed him what he was painting, a lone ballerina in a gorgeous ballroom. Varian made sure to tell Flynn that he indeed did have a talent.

Hazel, now fully rested, popped up from the ground with a new burst of energy.

“Alright! Time to solve the car puzzle!” Amelia groaned.

“Ugh, I hate these ones. Let’s just get this over with. I’m pretty sure that rock over there is the key.”

A dull purple rock sat rather plainly to the side.

“That, really? What are we even supposed to do with it?”

“I think you’re supposed to sing into it.” Hazel responded rather certainly.

“How would you even know that?”

“Just a hunch.” Amelia walked over to the stone.

“Well, Hazel’s hunches have never led me astray before. Only problem is, I can’t sing to save my life.”

Hazel turned to Varian, who suddenly had a bad feeling about this...

“Can you sing Varian?” The boy felt his cheeks burn.

“Yes I sing sometimes, but I don’t know any real songs...” Flynn’s ears twitched slightly.

“Maybe it’s a teamwork thing? Grandma over here picks the song and Varian sings it?” Amelia rolls her eyes at the ‘Grandma’ comment, but seems to consider the idea. She pulls out a small journal and writes something on a page for a few minutes before ripping the paper out and handing it to Varian.

“You think you could do this?” Varian’s eyes scan over the paper’s contents, eating up information as his brows furrowed.

“Did you...pick this on purpose?”

Amelia shrugged.

“I thought that it would be best to pick a song that would resonate with both of us at some level.”

“Oh. That...makes sense. So uh, should I just improvise from the basic music notes and words you gave me?”

“Worth a shot I suppose.”

Hazel chimed in with a,

“No judgement here!”

Varian gulped down his nerves, re-reading the paper several times. He could do this. He could do this! He awkwardly placed his hand on the stone. A happy nodding from Hazel, a lazy thumbs up from Flynn, and a look of mild interest from Amelia. Varian took a deep breath and tentatively, he began to sing.

“Hey Jude, don’t make it bad

Take a sad song, and make it better.”

If his eyes weren’t screwed shut, Varian might have seen Hazel’s eyes lighting up, and Flynn alongside Amelia taking a stunned pause.

“Remember, to let her into your heart

Then you can start, to make it better.”

Of course, strange train car always meant something strange would be happening, he thought as he heard music accompany his singing. As his confidence rose with his singing, Varian opened his eyes, taking in the faces of his peers. Hazel and Flynn appeared to be starstuck while Amelia was...smiling? Wow. He did not see that one coming.

“And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain,

Don't carry the world upon your shoulders.”

Varian wasn’t sure he liked how personal some of the lyrics felt, but if the glowing stone was any indication, he was doing it right so far.

“For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool

By making his world a little colder.”

Oh, oh no, was Varian Jude in this situation? When Varian first lost his dad, he definitely felt like he was carrying his whole world on his shoulders. And he did make his world colder in his quest for vengeance, didn’t he? Did...that make him a fool? He looked to Amelia again. This wasn’t one of the wry smiles or smirks he usually saw. He could just tell somehow  that this was a real smile, like she had been wrapped in something that brought her joy. It made her look years younger, and made Varian idly wonder why the woman didn’t smile more often. The happiness of his travel companions, that was fuel enough to keep singing.

“So let it out and let it in, hey Jude, begin,

You're waiting for someone to perform with.”

Varian smiled as he neared the end of the song, Hazel and Flynn joining in on the final chorus. When he was finished, it ended up being Amelia who reached him first. A firm hand landed on his shoulder. He heard an awkward cough from the woman.

“That song, I enjoyed it with...someone close to me long ago. I appreciate—I mean it means a good deal—Ugh, what I’m trying to say is, thank you Varian.” He found himself gaping, a small smile quirking onto his face.

“You used my name!” Amelia quickly turned on her heel.

“Don’t get used to it!”

Turning away from Amelia, Varian saw Flynn and Hazel running up to him.

“Wow kid, it’s too bad you’re from the past, because you sound like you belong on Broadway!”

“Broadway?” Flynn fished around for words.

“Ah, big, city, acting, singing place.” Varian just looked properly vexed.

“Thank, you?” They all then paused, watching as with massive crashing steps, a golem of crystal unlocked the door for them before marching back to wherever it came from.

Flynn hopped back up onto his shoulder, filling a void Varian hadn’t noticed as being present before it was filled.

“Well, I think our mvp singer here should get the honors of opening this door!”

“Go ahead Varian!” Hazel encouraged. Amelia huffed in a half-hearted way.

“It doesn’t really change anything, so you can do it for whatever ridiculous morale boost this is” Varian smiled, but the expression felt bittersweet. He...didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve the loner Flynn’s constant support of him. He didn’t deserve Hazel’s limitless love and cheer that was extended to him, nor did he deserve the rare displays of positive emotions from Amelia.

Why did he get to be here? Why was he getting a chance to be happy again? He didn’t deserve any of what he had; that was the last thing he thought as he turned the handle. The last thing he thought before everything burst into static.

Chapter Text

Ah, he was screaming, wasn’t he? No, that was someone else. No? Okay he was screaming, but someone else was screaming. It sounded like someone his age. Where was he? Where was Flynn? He could’ve sworn the little guy was just there, smiling on his shoulders, but now he was nowhere to be found. By that logic, neither was Hazel or Amelia. He was alone again?

No, he wasn’t alone. There was the source of panicked wails somewhere in this...car? He began to navigate his surroundings. Broken debris lay strewn all around him. It was a material he didn’t recognize, probably a form of that ‘plastic’ stuff. His boots crunched on flimsy orbs, probably also made of some form of plastic. Versatile. Amelia be damned, he was going to figure out plastic when he got home.

“Hello? Is anyone in here?” Varian half expected a hollow silence to follow, but instead he heard...crickets? Really loud crickets...and then the human screams again. He rushed towards the sound, gasping in shock as he saw a girl that looked to be his age being pinned to the floor by a strange black creature.

What should he do? He had to help, the girl was clearly in danger! Yanking off one of his gloves, Varian hurled the leather turned projectile at the beast. He ran to the other teenager as the creature whined and backed away.
“H-hey, are you okay?” She pushed back ginger hair and adjusted her glasses, wiping hints of drying tears.
“No time to talk. We-we’ve gotta handle this first.” Varian nodded gravely.
“Right. I don’t think we can beat it with brute force. We’ll have to trap it somewhere...”

“There!” The redhead pointed to a broken piece of what might have been a tunnel at some point. It had some sort of hinged widow-door thing, so yes, perfect for trapping something.
“Alright, I’ll lure it towards the entrance, you close that door-thing once it’s inside.”
“O-ok.” The spectacled girl stood by the hinged door as Varian stood in front of the tunnel, shaking nervously. The chittering creature turned back in their direction, letting out a screech as it charged him. Varian yelled in terror, jumping to the side as the abomination crashed into the tunnel, shaking as the girl slammed the door shut.

Varian sighed in elated relief.
“We did it! We should be safe now, right?” Varian looked to the other passenger, who he found to be sobbing against the door of the small tunnel. A small white ball had rolled to her side. What was it? He didn’t have any time to think about that though, the girl was clearly distraught, and Varian’s conscious wouldn’t let him leave her in this situation. He kneeled down next to her. Silently crouched next to her, Varian turned his gaze to look at his new circumstantial acquaintance. She looked back to him, tears rolling freely down her cheeks.
“Sorry, it’s just, he was my friend, Atticus; the conductor did something to him...and now he’s—this.”

Varian looked to the beast in its new prison, surmising that Atticus was most likely a train creature. Suddenly, all Varian could see was Flynn. This could be Flynn. This...conductor could hurt this girl’s friend; there was a chance they could hurt Varian’s friends as well. Varian didn’t really know what to say to that. He settled for something simple.
“I’m Varian.”
“Tulip.”
They extended their glowing arms for a handshake, then both gasped in shock.
“Your number...” Tulip started as Varian looked at his bare hand, casting a ruby-colored light onto his face.
“It’s...red?”
—///—
Varian stumbled back.
“W-what? Why is it red?”
Tulip looked just as startled as him.
“You mean you don’t know?”
“It used to be green before!!”
The two took a simultaneous calming breath. Varian shoved his hand back down to his side, looking around for his thrown glove. He found it torn and shredded.
“Great. Your friend tore up my glove.” Tulip’s downcast face looked away. Wow Varian, way to go. Just be totally insensitive to this poor girl’s friend just getting turned into a monster.
“Never mind, it’s fine. I probably need to keep an eye on my number anyways.”

Varian rolled up his sleeve. The red number now shone with the latest line resting around the lower section of his bicep. It had gone down? And a decent amount too. Varian almost felt—proud of himself. But when he saw Tulip’s number, a three, and had a sinking feeling that hers was the more ideal one to have.

“Look Ms. Tulip! I found your shoes! I’m a shoehead!
“he shouldn’t be here.” Tulip looked down to the little robots while donning her boots, then back to Varian.
“You mean Varian? Why shouldn’t he be here?” The two halves reconnected, rolling over to the boy.
“he just—doesn’t belong here.”
“Is that why his number is red?” The robot looked perplexed. He made a noise that vaguely sounded like ‘I dunno’.

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter. I...have to figure out what to do now. I’ve got to keep moving on I guess.” Tulip wiped away more tears of frustration. Varian’s eyes widened as he watched his fellow passenger’s number rise from three to ten.
“Wait! Are we leaving Atticus behind?” The little white ball inquired. The girl tensed before slumping in defeat.
“He’s not Atticus anymore.” Varian looked at the green twenty-three on Tulip’s hand with concern.

“Tulip! Just stop and think for a second!” The girl paused, turning back in his direction.
“When water evaporates into a cloud, is it still water?”
“What kind of question is that? Of course it’s still water, it’s just in a different state of matter. Wait.”
“So what did Atticus look like?”
“He was basically just a Corgi...”
Varian’s eyes lit up.
“Tulip, think! The black creature, you saw the bottom of its body, right? Didn’t it look kind of canine?”
“I-I guess?”
“Don’t you see what this means? Atticus’s chemical makeup is definitely still in there! If he can be changed, maybe he can be changed back!”

Tulip looked hesitant to gain the hope Varian was giving her. A new voice chimed in, though the speaker was only new to Varian.
“The young man’s right you know. There’s still time and ample opportunity to save the dog.” The two looked in the direction of the sound, their eyes finding one of the other occupants of the room, just a small white form from their distance. Varian narrowed his eyes.
“You’re The Cat, aren’t you.”

Chapter Text

The feline grinned at the group as best as she could, buried under the rubble as she was.

“Ah, so you’ve heard of me! I’m flattered, really.” Varian raised his eyebrows, an unimpressed look on his face.

“Trust me, most of what I’ve heard has been rather unflattering.”

“Touché.” Tulip began freeing The Cat by moving the debris from on top of her, grunting a bit in exertion.

“Get to the point. No lies. You know how to get Atticus back?” The Cat tutted, clicking her tongue as she tried to smooth out her ruffled fur.

“Well of course I know Kitten. Though your friend over there already figured most of it out. Smart one, aren’t you?” Tulip and Varian simply gave her twin glares.

“Alright alright, I can give you final piece, I just want to get some information from you.” She flicked her tail and gaze to Varian.

“Yeah whatever just ask your dumb question.”

The Cat’s gaze lingered on him, golden eyes piercing.

“You know I have plenty of acquaintances and business partners on this train, but not too many enemies. So I’m curious, who did you hear about me from?”

“A-a friend of mine. I don’t think he’d want to disclose his identity though.” The white animal made a rumbling sound in interest.

“So your friend is male? Say, do you happen to know a boy by the name of—“

“I haven’t met any male passengers yet.” The Cat’s face fell a fraction, but she was rather eloquent with masking it and proceeding.

“Very well, I suppose I got my question, so I should answer yours in turn. You saw the cannon the conductor used, what’s to say you can’t use it like they did?”

“You mean if I get ahold of that cannon, I could use it to change Atticus back?”

“I don’t see why not.” The cat purred, turning around to stretch her legs. As she turned, Varian saw something green glowing from within her vest. Bending down, he snagged it quickly from the corner poking out.

A strange black rectangular box, with a glowing green name on one side. It was one that he quickly recognized.

‘Amelia Hughes’ shone at him tauntingly in capitalized letters. Varian’s eyes widened, moving to The Cat, who was looking peeved at being stolen from.

“What is this? Why does it have Amelia’s name on it?” Leering at him, the feline curled her next words.

“You know her?” Varian crossed his arms.

“Yes, what of it?” Hissing, The Cat retreated behind Tulip’s legs.

“Don’t trust that boy, Amelia is the conductor! If he knows a woman that cruel, think of what he could be planning!”

“What? Amelia isn’t the Conductor! And she isn’t cruel either! Sure, she’s the grumpiest woman I’ve ever met aside from Old Lady Crowley, but she’s not a bad person. I mean, she cares about Hazel, and she’s been helping me, even though she doesn’t have to. The Cat is clearly lying to you Tulip!” Tulip looked between the two, clearly conflicted between who to trust.

“I don’t know you very well Varian, but...The Cat has also lied to me several times before...”

Said cat was starting to look increasingly concerned.

“Trust me, why would I lie about the person who tried to kill me? Think about the clues you’ve gotten about her. There’s a person under all of that machinery. Clearly the boy is either consorting with her or doesn’t know her as well as he thought he did.” She gave Varian a pointed look.

Tulip was clearly conflicted.

“The conductor did have a turtle handkerchief...” Varian’s brain started jogging itself into a run. Turtles...it would make sense for Amelia to have something like that. Especially with Hazel around it’d actually be pretty cute if Amelia did have a little turtle kerchief. But...this situation tainted the idea. Amelia did keep lots of things hidden from him. But why would she hide something this big? Was Amelia really the cold and cruel Conductor that hurt Tulip?

That would explain why she sympathized with his plight. If she terrorized the creatures and people on this train, why wouldn’t she understand the boy who terrorized a kingdom? He took a deep breath, running his hand along the box’s smooth surface. Tulip looked at him closely.

“Varian...I think I can trust you, but maybe there’s more to Amelia than you thought?” Varian ran his gloved hand over his numbered one.

“You’re probably right, it’s just, this will change everything I know about her, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that.” Tulip gave him a tired smile.

“Well Varian, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from my journey on this train it’s that you can’t run away from change. You don’t necessarily have to be ready, you’ve just got to be brave and face it head on.”

“Be brave, huh...” Varian looked down at his hand, watching as his number shuffled, assuming that it was going down. The number settled. The red glow faded, being replaced with a blue one.

He watched Tulip and The Cat look around, confused.

“One-One, was I talking to someone? I thought I was talking to someone.”

“I believe you were talking to me,” The Cat purred. As they continued talking, their conversation faded to static in Varian’s ears, as well as the surroundings becoming static as well, until all Varian could see was the small white ball from before.

“It’s time for you to go back to where you’re supposed to be.” And with a yelp of surprise, Varian’s world became static once more.

—///—

“G...ys......thi..k.......kin....up...”

“Va....n  ..ak... up, wake up!” Varian shot up in alarm, and immediately felt the familiar tackle of a hug.

“Hazel?” Two round, teary eyes looked up at him.

“Why were you sleeping so long Varian? You were scaring us...”

He heard the familiar sound of a huff from Flynn; a welcome sound in his ears.

“Hazel, he was only asleep for twenty-six hours. The frightening part was when he passed out all of the sudden. You feeling alright kid?” Varian suppressed a groan of pain.

“Well aside from the splintering headache, I think I’ll live.” Varian squinted his eyes at the surrounding area. It was the same broken plastic and checkered floor as before...

He then turned to Amelia, who seemed to be fussing over him as quietly as she could.

“Amelia, do you have a kerchief? I think I’m tearing up.” He was mindlessly passed a small pink handkerchief covered in small green turtles. His eyes widened. So it was true then. Amelia...she was the conductor?

“So Varian, I was thinking we should keep our groups together for the time being. Your number just did something I’ve never seen numbers do before. It changed colors. I don’t know what it means yet, but I’d like to figure it out.”

Varian clutched the handkerchief closer, feeling the worn fabric tighten in his grip.

“Actually, I was thinking about separating soon. I just need to have a conversation with you first.” The rest of the group looked stunned.

“What? You seemed so keen on staying with us before, what changed?” Varian looked down at his hand, glaring at his number, glowing green as if it had never been different. Varian contemplated on how much he should tell the group about what he saw while he was asleep. He was brought back to what Tulip had told him. ‘You can’t run away from change’. Maybe it was best to tell the truth here. If he wanted the truth from Amelia, he should tell the truth himself.

“I—saw something when I passed out. I don’t know if it was a dream, or a vision, of something else entirely, but...I saw some things. There was a red-headed girl, a strange monster, and...The Cat was there.” Flynn suppressed a flinch while listening with rapt interest.

“And...Amelia, The Cat said that you were the conductor. And...the girl said that you turned her friend into the monster we saw...”

“Was the girl’s name Tulip by any chance?”

Varian’s stomach felt like it was twisting in knots.

“So you’re not denying it then? You really hurt her like that?” Amelia nodded.

“Yes, but...the girl left the train at least a month ago, most likely more. Time here is too confusing to keep track.”

“So what, you think I dreamed of the past or something? Great, more things here that make no sense...”

“So, that’s why you want to leave? Don’t trust me now that you know what I’ve done? Doesn’t that sound familiar...not that I blame you, trust me when I say that some of what I’ve done makes attempted regicide look like child’s play.” Varian exhaled heavily.

“Amelia, I just want to understand. I’ve been honest with you, so please be honest with me.”

“I wasn’t lying when I said One is  the conductor. I was conducting the train at a point in time, but I was never the conductor. I simply took control for my own purposes.”

“Your own purpose? And what was that?” Amelia put her head in her hands, then looked back up.

“You told me that you tried to kill the Princess because she refused to help a loved one of yours, right?”

“Yeah, my dad.”

“Well, it was similar with myself. I had a loved one, my husband Alric. When this train took me after his death, I wanted nothing more than to get him back. So after taking over the train from One, I continually tried to use the train’s technology to recreate my life with him.”

“You made a car with someone who was dead in it?”

Amelia scoffed.

“I never succeeded. Hazel’s the closest I ever got. She’s even got some of his memories to an extent.” Varian paused, thumb rubbing the smooth leather of his journal as he looked at Flynn.

“So...Hazel is a train person...with human memories?”

“I suppose you could put it like that, even though that’s a bit of a...broad way of putting it.”

Varian flipped through the pages  of his journal, stopping at Flynn’s section.

“Flynn, I think I found the answer to your memory problem.”

Chapter Text

Flynn yawned, flicking out his tongue in a tired stupor. Varian, much more alert, had started a new page in his journal.

“Okay...human memories. So what is the earliest thing you remember?”

“Promise not to laugh?” Varian rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the way ‘promise’ made his insides turn.

“I don’t do promises. But I won’t laugh.” His friend took a deep breath.

“I misspelled iridociclitis.” To his credit, Varian wasn’t the one that the laughter came from. It was Amelia, belting out laughs like there was no tomorrow.

Varian took a breath to question the word—

“It’s a medical term that probably doesn’t exist in your time yet.” Flynn glared at Amelia, who was now recovering from her fit of laughter and moving to grip Varian’s numbered arm. As she mumbled and observed the number, Varian moved to question Flynn again.

“Do you remember anything about the train that seemed more like something a passenger would be doing?

“Yeah probably a few things I guess.”

“So you might’ve been a passenger! Do you know if you had a number and what it might’ve been?” Flynn began to look uncomfortable.

“Varian, can we stop talking about this for now?”

“Huh? But don’t you want to figure this out?” Amelia interjected their conversation.

“I think I might’ve figured out a part to your number Varian. The train doesn’t know exactly where to put you. It’s like an assembly line, you know what those are right?”

Varian nodded.

“So imagine you’re in an assembly line and you get passed one of the products, but it’s missing several pieces from different parts of the assembly line. Where do you send it without interrupting the flow, the pattern of the line? That’s most likely what the train is trying to figure out with you.”

“What, so I’m missing pieces?”

“Not quite...you’re probably just mixed up in places of how the train sets up passengers. Why else would you be with people from the future?”

“So...I got...displaced in time...and now the train doesn’t know where to put me?”

“It’s my best theory so far. Maybe I can ask One next time I go to the engine.”

Varian sighed, looking away from his number.

“It kind of makes me homesick, being away from anyone who knows anything of my time period.” Flynn climbed up to curl in his hair, combing through soft strands.

“Who knows, this is a big train. Maybe we’ll find someone else like you out there.”

“Yeah maybe...wait, are you trying to get off topic?” A nervous laugh trickled down to his ears.

“What makes you think that? Talking about your stuff is more important than mine!”

“What? Flynn, your memories are just as important as my number, if not more! Don’t you want to know this part of yourself?” The Rat leaped to the ground, standing to face Varian.

“What if I don’t want to know Varian? Have you considered that?” Varian stepped back, surprised.

“What? Why wouldn’t you want to know?”

“You’re smart Varian, just give it some thought. Hazel’s a ray of sunshine, and her memories are from Amelia’s beloved husband. I’m an asshole who lies and cheats to get what I want. What do you think that’s going to say about whoever I am in my memories?” Varian crossed his arms, looking down at Flynn.

“So you just want to keep your memories in fragments forever? It doesn’t seem very healthy to bottle up a whole part of yourself Flynn, no matter what it’s like.”

Flynn hissed, a sound that Varian hadn’t ever heard from him before.

“Varian, can we continue this discussion, in private?” Hazel looked at them curiously, her expression falling into something rather serious and contemplative.

Varian and Flynn moved behind a few fallen pieces of debris.

“So? What part of this could you not discuss in front of the others?”

“Varian, before I tell you this, I want you to know that I consider you a friend, a really good friend. None of this decision is on you, none of it is your fault, so don’t do any of that self-blame stuff you always fall into.” Varian felt concern and fear start bubbling inside him like a chemical reaction.

“Flynn, what are you trying to say?”

His friend took a deep breath, preparing himself for the words he was going to say.

“I’m not going to be traveling with you anymore. I’m leaving.”

I’m leaving. The words rang in Varian’s ears like the slice of an axe. He felt involuntary tears form in his eyes as shock coursed through his system. It didn’t feel real, it couldn’t be real, right? Flynn couldn’t just leave, right?

“W-what? B-but you can’t, I still need you!”

Flynn spoke with a firm voice.

“This isn’t your choice to make Varian.” The alchemist tried his hardest to hide the waiver in his voice.

“Can’t you at least tell me why? Why are you leaving Flynn? Why do you feel like you need to leave?” He watched as his rodent friend tensed.

“Because I’m dangerous, okay?! You know what the last thing I remember is? I tried to kill my best friend! So what am I supposed to do when I realize I have a new best friend? I...I can’t let you get hurt Varian. I’m sorry.”

Varian watched in devastation as his friend ran, small, dark body disappearing into the rubble.

“Flynn wait! Flynn!”

Tears that previously rested in his eyes started rolling freely down his cheeks, breathing becoming hitched as the realization hit him. Flynn was gone.

Chapter Text

To Varian,

This is Hazel writing. Ms. Amelia said we had to move on, so I’m writing this so you’re not caught unawares. She’s leaving the number tracker you see on this paper in case you need to find us again. I personally think she does want to see you again, and not just because of your number. I think you make her happy.

Anyways, there was something else I wanted to write about. Flynn. I think I know who his human memories are from. He’s a passenger I met once before. I’ll warn you, saying he’s not a very nice guy is a large understatement. But, as much as  I don’t like the human that he might remember himself as, I like Flynn.  I don’t think he’s just the person of his memories. He’s more than that, he’s The Rat, he’s Flynn. And he cares about you.

But you probably want to know why I’m writing all this. I saw Flynn run off. I don’t know what happened, but I don’t think you should give up on him. So I kinda took the liberty of putting some stuff in your journal, sorry!

I think they’ll help though. It some drawings of train cars he might recognize and go to, as well as some related names.

I hope you find Flynn.

Sincerely, Hazel.

As Varian finished the letter, he flipped to the latest page in his journal. It had a few rough drawings, including and jungle, a ballroom, a snowy area with a cabin, and a few others that looked too strange for him to identify. He then looked to the names. He recognized The Cat’s name, but what caught his eye was the name on the top of the page, circled and underlined. He knew it immediately must’ve been Flynn’s old name.

“Simon Laurent...”

Chapter Text

Varian rubbed his tired eyes, stumbling through shallow snow. Minuscule flakes drifted and landed on his threadbare clothing, leaving Varian to wonder if the train had places where he could get new clothing. A shiver ran up his spine, merging with shaking coughs. Thankfully the sun still peeked through the clouds, giving him a glimmer of warmth. He held up the journal to the scenery, matching the drawing with what he saw. Finally, after 13 stress-filled cars, he had found one that matched one of Hazel’s sketches. The wooden cottage called to him like a beacon, a signal of achievement.

Leaning hard against the doorframe, Varian knocked on the door, feeling worn but still sturdy wood creak under his feet. He flinched and froze as the door opened to a large brown bear in a bathrobe.

“Hm?”

Varian immediately relaxed, remembering that this was a train creature, and not the ferocious animal that parents in Old Corona would tell their children as a warning not to go into the woods alone.

“Frank? Who’s at the door?” Varian recognized the voice immediately, even if it was no longer laced with pain from being crushed under broken plastic.

“Mmm some kid with a blue stripe in his hair.” The Cat’s voice increased in volume, brimming with annoyance.

“We don’t take tourists here. Move along, you’ll find the exit soon enough.” The door began to swing closed, causing Varian to panic and step into the doorframe, eliciting an ‘ow!’ as the door slammed onto his foot. The bear stepped to the side, releasing the door in surprise. Varian took the opportunity to stumble inside. The Cat glared at him, leaping to an arm of the couch she was resting on.

“You really just want to crash in and ruin my perfectly relaxing day, don’t you?” Varian tried his best to muffle his coughs as to not test her patience further.

“Um, The Cat, right? Look, I’ve come a really long way and I’d just like to talk to you.” The glare remained, but her ears betrayed her, pricking up in curiosity.

“Fine. Tell me what you want and I’ll decide if you’re worth my time.” A fresh load of nostalgia came upon Varian like a heat wave. The Cat’s phrasing reminded him so much of when he first met Flynn. Maybe she had a soft side under that snarky exterior like The Rat did.

He rested his fingers over the names on the paper briefly before snapping the journal shut.

“I wanted to ask if you know anything about someone. Simon Laurent?” Her hair began to bristle and rise in the way that cats always do to try to make themselves larger.

“How do you know that name?!”

Varian scrambled for an answer, figuring he should probably avoid the complete truth.

“I’m close with someone he’s uh...kinda related to? And I saw him around at school! Yeah that. He misspelled iridociclitis!” The Cat’s tail flicked from side to side. Varian despised the uncertainty of whether it was because or interest or irritation.

“Well I hope you’re not looking for him, because he’s long gone.”Curiosity colored Varian’s expression. He was anticipating this somewhat. Hazel had pieces of Alric’s memories, and the man had most like been dead for years, based on what he could glean from Amelia.

“Please don’t sugarcoat it. Despite my looks, I’m far from being a child. He’s dead, right? I just want to know more about him.” The ivory-colored feline sauntered closer to him, stopping at his feet.

“So what did you want to know about him? It’s still a bit of a sensitive subject, but books tell me that talking about these things can help you work through them.”

Varian prepared himself for more heavy truth bending, telling himself that he’d already lied about much worse things.

“I uh, didn’t get to know him very well at school. I was just wondering what kind of person he became here.” The Cat nodded, padding back to the fireplace.

“How about you take a seat? You look awfully tired. What I can tell you isn’t as much of a long story as you’re hoping for I’m afraid, but I’m sure I’ll take enough time that you can rest yourself a bit.” Varian found himself drawn to the fire, sitting down on the soft rug by the hearth before falling into another fit of harsh coughs.

The Cat sat next to him, looking into the golden-red flames.

“Are you sure you want to hear it right now? You really don’t look too good.”

“I’ll be fi—“ he cut himself off with a sneeze, scrambling to turn his head into his arm. The Cat tutted, turning to the bear that was moving to the kitchen.

“Frank, could you be a darling and get some blankets and pillows from the back? We’ve got a sick one.” Varian shook his head rapidly.

“No I’m fine! I’m not sick, it’s just a cough!” He proceeded to get a soft tail to the face.

“Shhh...we can talk later. For now, you need sleep.”

He felt himself get swathed in a mass of plush pillows and blankets, futility trying to resist his body’s pleas to rest.

“I don’t need sleep, I need answers!”

“Our discussions can wait for after you’re rested.” Varian found himself whining almost like a petulant child.

“No....” The Cat smirked.

“Well now you sound just like Simon did. Am I going to have to do what I did to get him to sleep to you too? I’d rather not, it’s very embarrassing.” Two sleepy eyes glared at her weakly.

“Oh I’m not afraid to.” Varian felt a warm weight land on his stomach, settling down and beginning to vibrate. Oh was that unfair did Varian think. The Cat’s rhythmic purrs were like a lullaby, drawing him closer to unconsciousness.

“Not fair...” he mumbled, knowing that his need for sleep had caught up to him at last.

Chapter Text

Knock, knock, knock. The heavy wooden sounds shook the door of the chalet.

“Samantha? Can I come in? I brought those pastries you like from that car that’s basically Italy!”

“Just a moment Grace, I’m in the middle of something. Frank, could you be a dear and get the door for me?” The bear wordlessly obliged, getting the door to let in the young woman. She was finishing squeezing out the moisture from her long dreadlocks, which were tied back in a high ponytail. A few origami birds were settled inside of the thick hair, seemingly using it as a large nest. The former Apex leader walked in, setting a box of pastries on the main table. Her eyes searched for The Cat, finding her curled up on a young teenager, her eyes and ears slanted in embarrassment.

“Please ignore my current position. It’s nice to see you Grace, but you’re a bit early for our next bi-monthly meeting, aren’t you?” The woman rubbed the back of her neck in embarrassment.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I just got really excited and wanted to show someone...this!” She whipped out her arm to show it completely bare of numbers, only a vibrant 646 in the brackets on her palm remaining.

“My my! All the way down to your hand! You’ve truly come a long way Grace.” Grace smiled, taking a seat.

“So, what’s with the—woah.” Grace’s sentence trailed off as she looked at Varian’s number, trailing up slightly above his elbow, glowing a sinister red.

“Well it certainly wasn’t like that earlier.” The Cat remarked.

“Who is he Samantha? I thought you didn’t like random passengers trespassing here.”

“I don’t. But this boy...he knew Simon somehow...he was asking about him.”

Oh and wasn’t Grace just overjoyed to have to open the can of worms that was discussing Simon again.

“What? It would have to be from off the train, right? He definitely wasn’t part of the Apex, I would’ve known.” The Cat smoothly removed herself from the boy, swerving to get a better look at him.

“Well Grace, I do hope you know how to treat human fevers, because he’s running one right now.” She pressed her hand to the boy’s sweat-lined forehead, feeling the familiar heat of sickness.

“Do you have any medicine?” Running off to check the kitchen, the feline called back.

“I believe I should. I don’t often have use for them though, so you’ll have to help me figure out which are the right ones to use.” Giving the sick teen one more look, Grace walked over to the kitchen.

—| /// |—

Varian groaned, shaking himself off as he stood up in what looked to be a hallway. One distant opening was flooded with firelight, and Varian recognized it as the main room he had been in before. So he was still in the cottage from before. But his number was red again. So the train was trying to fit him into a different place in time if Amelia was to be believed. Varian was beginning to head to the illuminated opening, but he then heard panicked breaths coming from the darker opening, so he found himself dashing in, his instincts wishing to help the distressed stranger.

Stumbling back in surprise, Varian found himself staring at a model version of what he had lovingly dubbed ‘the cricket dog.’ And there next to him was someone else who had been startled by the imitation of the creature, the same panicked breathing he’d been hearing before. The stranger was blonde, with a white hoodie on that looked oddly familiar. Why it looked familiar became startlingly clear when the young man spoke.

“Who are you?” It was a voice Varian had been hearing since he’d first gotten on the train.

“Fly—“ no, that wasn’t the right name to use here.

“Simon?”

Chapter Text

Varian shuddered as the elder teen rose to full height, looking down on him from several inches above. Sure, Flynn could be intimidating at times in spite of his appearance, but Simon was downright terrifying.

“How do you know my name?” Varian weighed his options. On one hand he could try to come up with a lie, but with the way Simon’s presence made him squirm, the alchemist had a feeling any lie he tried to tell would come out completely unconvincing.

On the other hand, the truth. It would sound ridiculous, and might be even more unconvincing then any lie he could come up with. He gulped. Last time, when his number went down, Tulip and The Cat seemed to have thought he never existed in the first place. So, maybe the risk wasn’t too great?

“The future. I’m from the future. Well uh, your future. The future of the train? Ugh, it’s complicated.” Just as expected, Simon looked at him like he’d just grown a second head.

“Really, you expect me to believe that? How stupid do you think I am?”

“Believe it or not, I’m telling the truth. How else would I know that one of the most embarrassing things that happened to you was when you misspelled iridociclitis?”

Varian watched in smug satisfaction as heat rose to Simon’s cheeks.

“Who the fu—“

“Varian! Your friend! Or at least I’d like to be.” Simon huffed, moving to head back to the main room.

“Whatever, just follow me I guess. Maybe Grace will know what to do with you. Not that she’s paying much attention anyway.” Grace...wasn’t that another name on Hazel’s list? He wondered what their connection was...

“Flavor is all about timing.”

“Really?” Speaking of Hazel...wasn’t that her voice just now? It had a younger ring to it, but it certainly sounded right. Varian found himself rushing into the room first, being met with the image of Hazel surrounded my two train creatures, The Cat and a strange purple gorilla. The Cat’s head snapped up to him. Her gaze seemed calculating, scanning, like he was a puzzle she wanted to solve.

“Now how did I get another stowaway? You certainly didn’t come in through the door.” Varian shifted nervously, tossing his weight from foot to foot.

“Ha, funny story about that...” Simon stepped into the room.

“He says he’s from the future.”

The white feline padded over to Varian.

“From the future you say? That sounds a bit far-fetched.”

“I-I’m telling the truth! How else would I know that you knew a girl named Tulip? Or, or, that you got attacked by a woman named Amelia, who was posing as the conductor?” The Cat paused, eyes widening.

“Well, that is some rare information to know...” Varian felt his ungloved hand get seized by an unexpected hand. He tried his best to suppress the flinch that ran up his spine. The final occupant of the room made herself clear, smooth skinned face glowing ominously in the firelight.

“Why is your number red?” She proceeded to push his sleeve down until the end of his number.

“And how’d you get it so high?” Shaking off the stranger’s grip, Varian clutched his hand close to his chest as he felt everyone’s attention snap to him.

“It turns red like this whenever I’m in the past. Well, that’s my running theory anyway. And um...uh...if I told you why my number is so high, you er...might not feel safe around me.” The young woman sighed.

“Well now you have to tell us! Don’t worry, Simon and I have the highest numbers on the train aside from the conductor. I’m sure we can handle it.”

“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you. I got onto the train from jail. Several accounts of attempted murder.” The room went silent, the atmosphere shifting slightly. Grace started up again, voice slightly strained.

“Well you know, we all have our moments—you must be pretty tough if you’re attempting murder at this age! What’s your name kid?”

Varian paled slightly, sweat dribbling down his brow. Should he be concerned that this lady was so casual about his serious crimes?

“Uh...it’s Varian. Hi?”

“Hey Varian! I’m Grace. Say, with that high number, you wouldn’t happen to be a member of the Apex, would you?” The young alchemist looked perplexed.

“Apex? What’s that?”

Simon moved closer to him.

“That doesn’t line up. How can he know me so well, but not the Apex?” Grace shrugged, putting a hand on Simon’s shoulder.

“Maybe it just means we stay separated from the Apex longer than we expected.”

“But he acts like he’s never met you before either.”

“Maybe we get separated?”

“Can’t say I’m looking forward to that...”

Varian looked up at the two. Grace seemed like she was close with Simon. It could’ve made him jealous of how strong their friendship was, but it really didn’t, because it was being continually affirmed in his heart; Simon wasn’t the friend he knew in Flynn at all. Sure, he could see the similarities, the way he tried to give off an assured confidence, the fierce aura he could give off, a subtle closed off demeanor. But, it was like looking at the metal skeleton of an invention, or one of his formulas before adding the right ingredient to incite a reaction.

Simon wasn’t Flynn. The realization hurt slightly; Varian supposed something in him was hoping that interaction with Simon would be like talking with his friend again. But some of the differences the Coronan noticed between Flynn and Simon were... unnerving. There was a...softness in Flynn, a tenderness that he’d been unable to find in the human counterpart. And there was an anger, a darkness around Simon, like the shadow of a large rock in passionate sunlight, an elongated reflection of a silhouette in the approaching evening glare.

No, Simon definitely wasn’t Flynn, and Varian would just have to handle that as it came. He watched as not Flynn walked over to the door. The blonde swung it open, being met with a face full of snow. Varian felt his breaths quicken; great, as if he needed anything else trauma inducing on this train.

“Varian? Are you okay?” A voice filled with concern, with a staged tone to it that reminded Varian that this was Grace, catering to him.

“Yeah, I just don’t have the best experiences with blizzards.” Simon groaned in exasperation.

“Well when is this blizzard going to let up? I don’t want to be here any longer than I have to.” A pointed glare was sent to the owner of the cottage.

“Simon...is this about The Cat? It’s hard for you to be stuck in the  same space as her, right? Because...of whatever she did to you?”

“Stop psychoanalyzing me!” Varian cowered back slightly at the sharp bite in Simon’s words, piercing sharper than the whipping chill. The alchemist suddenly felt very small...

“Simon I didn’t mean to—“

“I don’t care whatever you meant to do! I don’t care who you are, I don’t care if you’re from the future! Just leave me the hell alone!”

Right...

Varian thought to himself as tears pricked in the corners of his eyes.

He isn’t like Flynn at all.

Chapter Text

Varian looked the source of his friend’s memories in the eyes, anger bubbling in his chest. Well, if Simon was going to be fierce about this, he could return the favor. After all, he was well used to being the bad guy. He turned to Simon, his expression darkening.

“No. I’m not leaving you alone. You’re going to listen to me, whether you like it or not.” And oh did Varian feel a sick satisfaction course through his veins as everyone in the room tensed at his change in demeanor. Simon’s brow remained furrowed in anger, but his posture spoke of how a certain caution passed over him.

“I get it, you scared, this sucks, I mean, being stuck with the person who hurt you? Yeah, I get it. It’s hard. But are you really going to let this weigh you down?” The blonde flinched back at the statement, a conflict brewing in his eyes.

“Who are you to say anything?” Varian sighed.

“Look, I could probably write a book about all the reasons I am one to talk about this. But this isn’t about me, this is about you.”

A growl rose up Simon’s throat, and with a shout, he slammed his fist against the wooden wall.

“Samantha left me to die! I’m sorry if I’m letting this ‘weigh me down.’ It’s not as easy as you make it sound.”

Varian’s mind drifted to himself, thinking of his own weight, dragging him down into the depths of wrongdoings and darkness. Over the course of his journey, he had certainly been cooling down and clearing his head. Maybe...it wasn’t entirely Rapunzel’s fault. Sure, she had turned him away in a time of need, she had broken her promise, but... He looked at the cat, then to Simon. So she had abandoned him, Simon had been left alone in a time of need, just like him. But...Simon was still corrupt by the anger, boiling in fierce, bottled spite. Varian...he didn’t want to let himself stay like that. He needed to let go of his anger, to move on.

The alchemist heard a familiar whirr, looking to his number. Once more, it shined blue. The terse atmosphere of the room remained, but it was clear that there was no evidence of him ever being there. Static began to take over, causing the boy to panic.

“No, no! Wait, no, I have to help him, please!” Of course, the static didn’t listen, enveloping the scene until the last thing he saw was the blonde’s anger-filled face.

Varian shot up with a start, curling into himself.

“Simon!” He felt a soft hand on his, gently massaging it in a way that was oddly comforting. He lifted his eyes to meet their gaze. Familiar, dark warm eyes looked at him in concern. But...something felt more genuine about it this time. The woman looked less like an actor in the theater, and more like a nurturing caretaker.

“Hey kid, you feeling alright? You’ve been pretty sick.” She offered him a patient smile, awaiting his response. Varian simply tried to blink away the confusion.

“Grace?”

The woman coughed nervously.

“And he knows my name! Not discomforting at all, I’ve never met you before and you already know my name.” Varian cringed. Right. He met a past version of Grace, not the one standing before him.

“Oh darling trust me, this boy seems to know more then he should.” Grace turned around with a faint gasp.

“Samantha! You’re back already?” The cat nodded her head slightly, pulling out something familiar looking.

“Yes. I found something that might help us figure out who you really are, and how you really know Simon, Varian son of Quirin.” Varian looked to the black box under the Cat’s paw, a creeping fear brewing in the pit of his stomach. For there, glowing in taunting green letters, was his very own name.