Chapter Text
You’re in the desert.
They’re in the desert.
You’re in the desert, and-
They sit in the desert and-
You’re in the desert, and so is everyone else. Whoever everyone else is. Whoever you are. Wherever you are.
The desert?
The desert has sand. You can feel the sand, you think. You can think. Who can think?
Reese stumbles forward, barely able to stand. A figure that they didn’t know was next to them surges forward to catch them, instinctively. Reese looks up, and sees someone they should know. Tall, with streaks of gray through their cropped short black hair. They look exhausted. Standing next to them is-
You’re standing next to those people. There’s two people, one with a hand on the other’s shoulder. You see the gray streaks, and muscled frame. You’ve seen them before, you know this. You also know the person that stumbled into them. Why are you here with them?
“Reese? Alex?” says a figure that ---------- ------- does not recognize. Their short locs are swept to the side, with round glasses in front of deep brown eyes. ---- doesn’t know them. The figure that they caught pushes themselves lightly out of their arms, staring towards the new person. There’s no recognition on their featureless face either, and ---- moves forward to stand next to them protectively. Is this a threat? They think they might know how to deal with threats.
“Reese? Alex?” you say, and watch the scene play out in front of you. Reese and Alex stand side-by-side, looking cornered. You don’t know what’s happening. But you think you might know more than the two in front of you now.
They squint at the person standing in front of them in the gritty wind.
“Reese? Alex?” they parrot. “Is one of those me?”
The figure nods. “Yes, you’re Reese. And that’s Alex. I’m…. I’m pretty sure I’m Daiya.”
Reese stares down at their hands. Do they seem like a Reese? They think so. The name feels right, though incomplete.
“And this is Alex?” Reese asks, looking towards the other figure.
The person who’s supposed to be Alex furrows their brow. “That doesn’t sound right.”
You stand in front of two members of the Houston Spies, and you are the only one there that knows you are a part of the Houston Spies. It’s written on the clothes all three of you are wearing, and that’s important somehow. It’s important that you’re matching. You feel the edges of remembering now, even as the waves of somewhere else echo around in your mind. You don’t think the other two are, yet. They haven’t had as much practice with this, you don’t think. You’re pretty sure you’ve felt your identity been swept away before, though not like this. Not like how Alex is experiencing it.
They aren’t Alex, because they aren’t anything right now. That is Reese, and this is probably Daiya, if they’re so confident in the name. But to be an Alex, they would have to be something that isn’t ---------- -------. And they don’t know if they can do that right now. Their muscles ache, and they don’t know what that’s from. From catching Reese? From something else?
From something else. Something before right now, as they stand in a desert with Reese and Daiya. There was something else.
“Where…” they start to ask, before stopping. They’re in a desert. That’s the only where they know. Even if Daiya or Reese know a where from before, could they even remember it?
“Houston.” You say, guessing that’s what would be important to Alex. It’s important to you, you think. Maybe even ring a bell with Reese, stir up enough memories that you can live them fuller. Because that’s what you do, you’re remembering. You see what people remember. And since right now-
Reese reaches a hand up and presses it against their own featureless face. Have they always had this? They’re at peace with it right now, so it can’t be new. But neither Alex or Daiya have it, so it can’t be normal.
Is it normal to feel so tired?
“Houston.” Daiya speaks suddenly, with great urgency.
Reese startles, pulling their hand away from their face and looking towards Daiya. They know that. They’re from there. They’re from Houston. That’s an important place to know. Someone important to them is from there. Multiple someones?
You grin at Reese. You’re getting closer, you feel it. You all are. You can help more, if they remember. You fix your glasses on your face, the round frames bumping against your forehead. You feel the plastic of them, and you feel the sand getting stuck in your hair. You don’t think you’ve felt this much as you for a while. You don’t know why that is, but that doesn’t matter right now. There’s something else there. Something else important about Houston, and the people from it.
“Who’s from Houston, Reese?” you ask. Maybe it’ll make them remember-
Reese looks down at the routine paperwork they’re filling out, chuckling to themselves. They didn’t even have to write out half of this; the Agency already printed it out with nice pre-filled text in half the text boxes. Reese Clark, batter, 5’2 to 6’6, special operations agent. Honestly, they don’t even know why they bother reading this, seeing as it hasn’t changed much in the past decade or so.
But…. there’s still one thing. They run their pen across the line that has their hometown. They aren’t really from there anymore, they don’t think. Home is where the heart is, and all that. In chicken-scratch handwriting they cram “HOUSTON” in the blank space still available. The Agency will get enough of a kick out of that to keep it, Reese thinks.
“You’re from Houston, now.” You say, fixing your glasses again. “And… there’s an agency.”
Reese nods, the slightest trace of a brow furrow on their forehead. Alex stands next to them still, face strangely blank. You know they’re stoic, normally. But not like this.
“So are you, then.” Reese asks, then turns to Alex as well. “So are you. We’re from Houston.”
---------- ------- can’t be from there, just like they can’t be Alex. But Reese and Daiya are from there. And they’re here with them. And they’re teammates, so they’ll take “Alex” and they’ll take “Houston”.
Their arms feel heavy. Their legs feel heavy.
“Teammates!” You cry out victoriously, then quickly lose your excitement as Alex begins to crumple to the sand.
Reese moves quicker than you, and gets Alex’s arm over their shoulder to support them. It’s done with practiced motion, and even without remembering you know they’ve done this countless times. They ease Alex down to a sitting position in the sand, sitting next to them. They motion for you to sit next to them, and continue.
“We’re teammates,” you say. You’re confident in this. “We’re teammates from Houston. All three of us and-”
Reese clenches their fists, tensed and ready to run. The second something goes wrong, they’re going to sprint into the middle of the field and tackle the umpire. They can’t do that, it doesn’t work, but they’re going to do it. For all of their teammates. It might work for them. They have to try, it’s one life versus over twenty.
“....” You stop, turning over the memory in your mind. “All three of us and…”
Reese looks up from checking on Alex, and seems to realize the same thing.
“There’s others,” they say. “We have to find them.”
“We will,” you promise. Looking at Alex, you can see that their eyes have slid shut, but their breathing is steady. “After they rest.”
Rain beats down outside the bus stop they’re staking out. Reese rests their head on Alex’s shoulder, knowing they won’t mention it later. They could use a few minutes of shut-eye.
Reese cautiously places a chair against the door, then turns back around to Alex on the couch.
“See? Completely safe. Take a nap, Rosales.”
“Alex, if you don’t go to bed, I’ll start setting fires.”
“That’s just going to give me more work, Clark.”
“Well then you should get the sleep while you can.”
“Fine. An hour.”
“That’s all I ask.”
“But only if you take the next nap-shift.”
“Sure, sure. You first.”
You watch Reese as they shift, making sure Alex is comfortable. You think they’ll sleep soon, and you aren’t as tired as either of them. You’ll keep watch for now.
Maybe you’ll remember something else to help.
Besides, you're enjoying the sand between your fingers.