Archive of Our Own

This is it , Bob thought as the wind whipped through his core and he clung to tree bark so tightly he was sure his fingers were going to bleed, This is how I die!  

The storm of Lucy’s -- Maligula’s -- making raged through the Gulch with the same ferocity and pain she had been bursting with so many years ago. The memories of that awful time, ones he’d tried so hard to smother, bit back with greater strength and no remorse. No one had been fast enough to escape the violent torrent of water that had swept all in attendance up and out of the Heptadome. Everyone was flung to who knows where, and as Bob had lost his grip on the hands he’d been trying desperately to hold on to, his heart imploded in his chest. Everything that came next was a blur, he squeezed his eyes tight so he didn't have to watch what happened.

When he smacked against something big and sturdy, Bob wasn’t sure how he wasn’t already dead - but there he was alive at the base of one of the larger trees in the Gulch. His survival instincts kicked in through and his muscles tensed as he asked - begged - for the tree or any other plants around to help him. Help they did: the tree’s roots shifted and wrapped tight around his feet & ankles, tying him to the spot. He wasn’t sure how long that would hold, but he couldn’t afford to speculate. He could only hope. 

There was a sound like thunder far above him, then rushing water. He barely had time to brace himself before what felt like an entire lake’s worth of water bombarded the earth. Despite squeezing his mouth shut to hold his breath, the water stung his eyes and nose and rocked him like a punching bag. He could even feel the tree itself radiating with fear, echoing his own. 

God, Please, not like this. 

When his head unexpectedly breached above the water, he gasped so hard his lungs ached. He held fast to the tree as the water rushed away, leaving him soaked down to the bone. He knew, just knew , that he couldn’t take another wave like that, but braced for it to come anyway. Then he waited, and waited, but another wave didn’t come. The torrent gave way to a light sprinkle on his skin, then, nothing. The air was still… Is it over? No, it couldn’t be, just like that? He still didn’t dare to open his eyes. The frantic beating of his heart thrummed in his ears until finally someone’s voice broke the tension. 

“Alright, there’s no time to waste, spread out,” Bob wasn’t sure he recognized them, but they sounded angry. “And report back to me so we can account for everyone.” No, not angry, serious. Determined.

“I’ll search the high ground, plenty of places to get lost in,” said a softer voice.

“I saw the kids take off over there!” a rough and crackly voice followed.

“Then I take it I should scout the nearby buildings,” Hard edge, lower voice - wait, he did sort of recognize that one. Otto had a mentee, years ago, some kid from Germany. That was it, these must be those agents that had shown up right before the storm began. He’d barely had time to even register they were here in the first place. Now, it sounded like they were taking the lead, searching for everyone who had been swept up. 

Bob turned so his cheek pressed against the tree bark, and tentatively opened one eye. Storm clouds were slowly dissipating in the sky, breaking to let the stars back in. The entire Gulch seemed to be weighed down, in the wake of being completely drenched. The Heptadome had miraculously survived, standing as proudly as the poor old thing could as the glass glimmered. Bob had been thrown a fair distance away from it, but through the agitated plants that may or may not have burst up around him during the chaos he was able to make out the figures scattered around the perimeter. A sullen black woman in a suit pressed fingers to her temple to move branches and clear the pathway to the Heptadome’s main entrance. Cassie was sat up against one of its walls, twisting at her long hair to fruitlessly try wringing it dry. Compton leaned beside her, eyes closed but breathing heavily enough Bob could see it, even from so far away.

Another woman in bright swirling patterns was levitating up to one of the thick vines that stuck out of the building. Damn, there was Otto, draped over the vine like yesterday’s laundry. The woman whispered something inaudible as she cupped Otto’s face, and Otto gave a shaky thumbs up before adjusting his glasses. 

Bob scanned over the area again, much more attentively now, and caught a man in a lab coat looking over Ford’s body limply laying in a pile of mud. Was he…? No, no, Ford slowly lifted an arm to bury his face in the crook of his elbow and Bob heard him groan pathetically. 

He inhaled sharply as he realized only two of his friends were unaccounted for. Lucy, wherever she was, must be taken care of somehow, by someone, for the storm to have stopped. The ways in which that could have happened left him feeling a gnawing chill in his gut, but that paled in comparison to the fear he felt for his husband.

Bob must have looked over the same scene dozens of times as the minutes ticked by. He watched as people moved around, spoke to each other, and searched the area. His friends were one by one chaperoned inside the Heptadome by the younger agents. After what felt like ages, everyone had gone inside, and there was still no sign of Helmut. That body Helmut was borrowing had him worried, cause the guy looked like he could be snapped in half any moment, but even ignoring that numerous worst case scenarios flooded Bob’s mind. He could be hurt, he could’ve gotten knocked out he could be dying, dead, gone please don’t take him away again not like this I just got him back -

“There you are, you poor thing,” The woman in bright fabrics startled Bob out of his thoughts. He hadn’t even noticed she’d been floating over until she was close enough to reach a hand out toward him and rested it on his shoulder, “The shrubbery over here is so dense, I was worried we had missed you. Are you hurt?” 

“I -” Bob started and stopped as he hacked violently. His coughs were shuttery and wet and absolutely dreadful. The woman kept her hand on his shoulder the whole time, waiting for him to catch his breath. He pounded at his chest, took a deep breath or two, “I’ve… been better.” 

“It sounds like it. Here, let me help you inside with the others,” she started turning back toward the Heptadome, using her hand to guide him to turn with her. He hitched his shoulders and pushed her hand away from him.

“I can walk,” he said sharply. He looked away from her apologetic face, feeling a bubble of resentment in his chest. He didn’t need to be escorted as if he were some retiree. He lifted one leg gingerly out of the tangle of roots that had held him, then the other. As he finally loosened his grip on the tree, he noticed the marks he’d dug into the bark with his nails. “...Sorry,” he said meekly to the tree, who responded with a wave of understanding. Not the worst thing that’s happened , it said. 

“Don’t worry, take your time,” the woman floated gently away from him, not too far, but enough to keep her eye on him. 

“Uh yeah, you, right,” Bob followed her, one foot in front of the other, not caring at all to watch where he stepped. His eyes darted back and forth once again, surveying the area, his mind already rushing back to his greatest fears coming true. “H-hey, uh, Agent…?” 

“Vodello dear.” 

“Agent Vodello, have…” Deep breath, not the time to freeze up, “H-have you or the others seen Helmut? Seen him at all?” 

Vodello paused feet from the Heptadome’s entrance, “Were we supposed to?”

“I hope so! I lost him in the storm, and I haven’t seen him anywhere since.” 

“I’m afraid I don’t follow. Helmut, he’s here?” Vodello tried to put a hand on his forehead, and he bristled, “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes!” He yelled loud enough to startle himself, “I mean! I’m not! But not because I’m concussed or some shit, he’s here! He should be -” realization struck and he hit his head “Agh! Damn it, you don’t understand he’s, his body’s not his own right now, he’s borrowing another one, you’ve got to believe me! He’s alive and he’s here right now but could be hurt or worse and if no one’s even been looking for him I’ll go do it myself!”

“Slow down, slow down,” Vodello’s face was etched with concern. Bob shook his head and looked away again, he could feel his hands shaking. “I believe you. Helmut Fullbear, borrowing another body. What does it look like?”

“Uh…” He worried at stray wet tangles in his beard, “Crap, I forgot the guy’s name. He’s kind of a scrawny fella, dumb lookin’ hair… Helmut said something about a mailroom?” Vodello’s eyes lit up, and she was silent for a moment before nodding her head. 

“I know where he is.” 

“Really?! Is he ok?” 

Another pause from Vodello, “Sasha says he found him near an old psychoisolation chamber -'' Bob ran off in that direction before Vodello could finish her sentence. “Wait, Bob, come back!”

Hell no. He couldn’t possibly go and sit and wait for Helmut another second longer than he had to. He stumbled over a fallen branch and fell to his knees in the mud, but with some focus he levitated himself back upright and kept going. All this while Agent Vodello followed behind him. She wasn’t yelling for him, or chasing him down, but he could tell she was there. He was frustrated, he didn’t need her looming over him, but he wasn’t gonna stop to tell her to buzz off either. No time for that. 

Bob nearly fell over himself again at the edge of the broken bridge that was supposed to lead to Compton’s chamber and menagerie. He stopped, toes precariously over the edge, then stepped back to rear up and levitate the rest of the way. Before he could jump, the grave looking man in the lab coat dropped down in front of him with the cool ease of a curtain dropping on a stage.

“Bob Zanotto, correct?” he - Sasha? - asked. Bob faltered for a second.

“Y-Yes. Please, I have to see Helmut.” 

Sasha looked up, over Bob’s head toward Vodello. Bob realized then that they had been speaking telepathically, and then Sasha looked back down to Bob “Perhaps you could help to calm him down then.”

Calm him down? Of course, he must be absolutely miserable. Bob’s heart ached for him, and all he could do was nod hard enough it aggravated the slowly forming headache at the top of his skull. 

“Then if you would,” Sasha held his hand out to guide Bob over the gap in the bridge. This again.

“I can do it.” Bob grumbled. He shook the excess nerves out of his hands and psychically hoisted himself up and over the still-disturbed waters. Sasha stood aside as Bob landed with an ungraceful thud and the wooden planks creaked beneath his feet. Getting around like this again was going to take some getting used to, he could already tell.

“Nick Johnsm- ahem, Helmut , as Milla told you, was over here when I found him.” Sasha began to explain, “When I approached to bring him into custody he did something I can’t quite describe. One moment I had him, then he was gone. Whatever it was he had managed to hole himself up in the chamber itself.” Sasha tapped the metal exterior to emphasize his point. “I could extract him with telekinesis, but that may aggravate his condition.” 

“W-what condition? He's hurt, isn’t he?” Bob’s voice shook.

“Almost certainly. I can’t assess the extent of his injuries but-”

“I’m going in there!” 

Bob sped around the walkway, twisting around the chamber until he got to the entrance. Helmut, whatever state he was in, hadn’t closed the door behind him, so Bob was able to hunch down under the doorway. The first thing that hit him was the palpable psychic waves emanating from the furthest side of the padded room. Panic attack. Helmut in his borrowed body sat curled up in the fetal position. He was shivering, and as Bob straightened back up he could hear him muttering under his breath. 

“I can’t do this again. I can’t do it again. I don’t want to go.”

“Helmut?” Bob said as gently as he possibly could, “Helmut, it’s over,”

“It never ended, it was too much, too much, too good to be true,”

Bob tiptoed closer to him. He remembered from decades ago how easy it’d been to accidentally startle his husband when he was in a state like this, and that was when he hadn’t just been swept up by waves that wanted him dead. “You’re… you’re gonna be ok,” 

“It’s not ok, I’m dying! Can’t you feel the ice surrounding us?!” 

Idiot, say something better than that. 

“You’re not, no one’s dying.” Bob was close enough now he could kneel down by Helmut. He didn’t touch him, no matter how much he wanted to, just in case that would scare him. “You’re Helmut, and you’re here, alive.”

“I’m out in space. The stars are shifting. It’s cold.” 

Bob struggled to remember what he used to do here. Something grounding usually helped, he was pretty sure. “Can you uh… uncover your eyes, maybe?”

“Too much.”

Stupid .

“How about…” Bob chewed his nail in thought for a moment, “Can you feel the padding beneath you?”

It took a moment before Helmut grunted affirmatively.

“H-how about you go ahead and put a hand out? Feel the fabric and, oh right, describe it for me! That’s what we’d do… I think?” Bob breathed in, out, so tense he couldn’t move now even if he wanted to. Helmut was still shaking for a while longer before he slowly took a hand off his head, still covering his eyes with the other arm, and rubbed his fingers along the floor of the chamber. Bob noticed Helmut had bruises forming on his skin. 

“It’s… smooth.”

“Smooth?”

“Yeah… smooth… and soft...like curtains.”

Helmut’s breathing was the only sound in the room for a bit. Time slowed to a crawl and his breathing slowed, grew deeper. 

“Where… are we?” Helmut asked.

“The PsychoIsolation Chamber.”

“PsychoIsolation Chamber…” He rolled the words around like he’d just heard them for the first time, “Like in the Gulch?”

“Right.”

“...and Compton liked it here, right? He liked the soft and the smooth cause it made his head hurt less?”

“Uh-huh.” Bob leaned closer.

“So I’m here?”

“Yes!”

“And, and you , you’re here!” Helmut poked his face up from the arm he’d been hiding behind. Despite everything being wrong about the way he looked and sounded, the recognition in his eyes was enough to make Bob exhale the breath he’d been holding. “I’m so, so glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad too.” Bob ignored how he could feel his voice warble and slowly held a hand out to Helmut, waited for him to reach out and grab it. Helmut squeezed tight. Even though this seemed to be working, Bob wished he could do more. He felt so painfully out of his element, like he was trying to move an atrophied muscle.

“Could you help me up? I… it’s hard to move.” Bob obliged and gently pulled Helmut up into a sitting position. Getting a better look at him confirmed for certain that he was right; the mail guy looked awful, though Bob knew he didn't look stellar either. Neither of them would get any better sitting out here in any case.

“Everyone else is back in the Heptadome. Think you can come back with me?”

“I think so.” Helmut began to brace himself against the floor then hissed, “Ow ow ow ! I forgot how much pain hurt!” 

“Here,” Bob stood up on aching legs while he kept hold of Helmut’s hand, and wrapped his arm around him to haul him up. One benefit to the mailguy’s scrawny body - way easier to lift up. 

“You’ve got me spinning Bobby… or maybe that’s the headrush,” Helmut chuckled weakly. With his arm still around him, Bob led Helmut out of the chamber, and found Sasha waiting for him, looking out into the distance. 

“Come along.” Sasha took a drag from a cigarette, and exhaled. 

Helmut leaned on Bob’s shoulder as they made their way up and over to the Heptadome, only stumbling once this time. Now with Helmut by his side, Bob could see and hear the area with a clearer head. The trees and bushes were all fretting in their own manner of hushed whispers that, despite the clean up efforts that the agents had begun, errant branches and uprooted shrubs littered the pathway and it was all very upsetting. More of the stained glass had been torn out from the frames of the Heptadome as well, which had sprinkled the treetops in technicolor shards.

Despite the damage though, the lights inside the Heptadome were still on. He saw shadows moving behind the glass as they drew closer. Vodello - or Milla, was it? - stepped out of the building and rushed over to Sasha. 

“So good to see you all together!” Milla hugged Sasha then pulled back, “Hollis has been communicating with the Motherlobe about cleaning up, we should see what she needs next.”

“Any updates on the interns?” 

“Morry says they’d already started heading back to the Motherlobe - but he’s got them held up at the forest until we get the clear it’s safe.” 

“And Razputin?” There’s a name that piqued Bob’s interest. 

“He’s with Lili and Truman,” and those names made Bob instantly wish he could check back out of reality. He was however the most cognizant he’d been in years. Unfortunate. “He says Lili wants to rebrain her father immediately, but Hollis has told them to wait just a bit.” 

“So we don’t have much time at all then.” 

“Of course not,” Vodello said with a light tone. Bob hadn’t had the time until now to really think about it, but tonight had been absolutely insane. How had Lili of all people gotten there, had she followed someone? And what about Razputin, did he have something to do with the storm ending? Were kids just running around in the Motherlobe now, pulling dangerous stunts like they had a deathwish and finding long lost lovers like it was nothing? He’d have to ask about that kid later. 

As the four of them stepped over the doorway into the Heptadome, Bob was hit by a wall of surprising warmth. The old dome was never well insulated, so someone must have been using some advanced pyro in order to hopefully dry folks off at least a little bit. He could have tried something like that himself, once, but his talent for pyrokinesis fell to the wayside when he’d started his distillery. Fire and alcohol, he could see a bad mix even in the state he’d been in. He saw all the candles, bottles, and various other knick knacks left in the Heptadome over the years had been scattered around the room, then hastily swept over into a big pile by one of the side exits to be cleaned up later. It did little to hide the mess, especially when right beside the trash pile were ripped up live wires marking where the Otto-Matic had stood just an hour before. Geeze, he hoped that thing hadn’t hit anyone. 

Sasha and Milla headed over to who Bob could now deduce must be Hollis, who was standing next to the nearly untouched astrolathe. She still had her fingers to her temples, her eyes distant with the intensity of someone who was mentally handling a dozen tasks at once. 

“Bob!” Bob whipped his head around and saw his friends all sitting huddled together on beanbags scooted close in a semicircle by the blackboard. Their eyes were on him and Helmut, all looking just as happy to see them as they had been earlier, and it made a long-thought dead part of himself light up, feel seen. 

"Bob, Helmut, it’s such a relief to see you!” Cassie cheered as she got up and hurried over to greet the two in an embrace.

Helmut yelped softly, “Ah - ah - Cass, be careful -!” 

“Oh!” Cassie pulled her arms back, “I’m sorry! I should have realized.”

“You’re good!” 

She brushed her hand over Helmut’s head, “You look awful.”

“Don’t we all?” Otto chimed in, his glasses very much broken. Cassie simply glared back at him before smiling sweetly at Helmut.

“Here, here come over. Miss Forsythe helped us find the old first aid kit we’d tucked away in here.” She started shuffling back over to the semicircle and Bob followed, Helmut in tow. Every one of the gang looked like they had needed some first aid. Compton had a rough looking welt on his cheek that the bandage just barely concealed. Cassie’s bare arms were patched up most conspicuously, no sleeves to cover them. Otto had broken glasses, a busted lip, and his hair (to Bob’s slight amusement) was limply deflated over his face. As for Ford, well, he sure was clutching his arm awfully close to his chest. Cassie patted the spot beside her, saved for the reunited couple.

“Thanks,” Bob grumbled. He kneeled over slowly with a grunt, and Helmut collapsed against him as they sat. He laughed, a nervous laugh, one that betrayed that he hadn’t expected to fall so easily. After taking a moment to breathe, Helmut pushed his full weight up against Bob. 

“There’s not much,” Compton telekinetically handed the first aid kit over to them, “But I hope it helps.” Bob gingerly grabbed the metal box from him. The kit, wherever it had been stowed away, had miraculously been spared from water damage. Less miraculous was the fact that most of the bandages were already used up. Bob grabbed a handful that came in wildly different sizes and started doing what he could for his husband. 

“This dude sucks,” Helmut joked as he winced, “can barely take a hit.” 

“Hey, at least he took it,” Bob assured. Bob gently stuck another bandage over the wounds he could find. Lots of little cuts and scrapes, but they added up.

“So,” Helmut squirmed a bit, “How’s everybody holdin’ up? Good? Bad? Anybody need to amputate?” His good humor was enough to get some of their friends to laugh softly to themselves. Even now Helmut seemed to have that energy about him where talking seemed easy. 

“I’m gettin’ there,” Ford mused, “Pretty sure it’s actually just a sprain or somethin’, but Agent Forsythe over there said to keep my arm still til we can get it looked at.” Otto glanced over to him, then up, obviously thinking about something. 

“You’ve dealt with worse. Hah, remember the time we first showed up here, and you actually broke your arm trying to see the top of that upside down waterfall?” 

“Dunno, was that before or after you tried the exact same thing and fell backwards off a log?” 

“Now that was because you distracted me-”

“After you’d bragged about reading up on survivalism and being sooo prepared to the park ranger-”

“The park ranger who’d needed my help in the first place?”

They shared an electric glare for a beat before breaking into laughter. Otto adjusted his glasses as he sighed happily. 

“God, it’s good to hear from you again.” 

“I’m sure you’ll change your tune soon enough.”

“I’ll count the days.” 

Cassie pulled her legs up against her chest, “I’m looking forward to when we can spend more time like this, without the complications.”

“There’s always going to be complications -” Compton said, then looked guilty about it, “But, we always seemed to find a way, so, maybe that’s not so bad?” 

“It’s gonna get better from here.” Cassie assured him.

“I’d be surprised if it didn’t!” Helmut said. Bob was done fixing up Helmut with the little he could do, so he just sat back and let him keep doing the talking. “It’s gonna be awesome, we’ll start hanging out again and we can catch up about like, our lives and hopes and dreams and stuff and I - well -” He faltered, then looked down at himself. “I guess I’ll have to get this whole situation sorted first. But then, the good times will get back to rolling!” 

Cassie got that look on her face when she was putting pieces together, serene but thoughtful, “Your situation is pretty strange, big bear. You said he’s a mailroom clerk, Otto?”

Otto nodded, “One of the senior staff back at the Motherlobe.” 

“So then why did Lucy single him out? I mean, she shouldn’t know him.” The group pondered for a moment.

“She was saying something about a gzarevitch ,” Compton offered, “Wasn’t that, um,”

“The Grulovian heir?” Ford’s serious tone made Bob feel cold for a moment. 

“Y-yes, that…” 

“The little prince dude from the papers?” Helmut asked, “But what would he be doing here?”

“Well, if you have his body, and Truman was out of commission until tonight, where he started spouting off that speech about Maligula and…” Otto put his hand to his chin, “And I should have been taking the mole situation much more seriously.”

“Mole?” Cassie asked.

“Truman had been kidnapped, which had to have been an inside job, so the whole organization has been scrambling to find out who did it. I’m sure we’re the last ones to figure it out, but it was Nick. Or, whatever he said his name was when it was coming out of Truman’s mouth.” Bob felt a special kind of bile festering inside at the thought that anyone would have done anything to hurt Truman. He’d heard bits and pieces about the situation from Razputin when he’d asked for help with the astrolathe, but it hadn’t felt real until now. It was infuriating. Worse still, he was torn between wanting to rip him a new one and knowing that he literally couldn’t. Not while Helmut was right there, occupying the space that asshole took up in the world. Helmut was too good for this, he didn’t deserve to be in this situation.

“... I thought maybe I recognized his face earlier.” Ford admitted. The group was tense now, Bob seeing from the corner of his eye how Helmut seemed to shrink into himself, but he couldn’t look away from Ford. “I remember seein’ him and feeling like there was somethin’ important about him, but it was so good to hear Helmut again, and with everything else, I dropped it. Not like it’d have done much good anyways to put the pieces together. Still wish I could’ve.” 

“What could we have done by then though?” Cassie asked.

“I-I I’m not sure I want to talk about this anymore,” Helmut said, and everyone’s gaze fell to him, which made him shrink further. “I just want to focus on the right now. Which is to say, not” he gestured at himself, “whatever it is this whole guy’s deal is. I’m sorry that I’m still just… happy to be here.” He pulled his arms around himself, and everyone murmured sympathetically. 

“Don’t apologize, Fullbear.” Ford frowned as guilt weighed on his posture. “You’re right though, right now’s all we got. That other stuff can wait. You’re here, that’s what’s important.”

“I think Helmut’s got a good point about not talking. This is all starting to give me a headache,” Compton groaned, “Maybe let’s be quiet.” And so for a while, they were. 

Of course, they could all hear the younger agents discussing plans, or something of the sort, but Bob couldn’t listen to what they were saying even if he wanted to, which he didn’t. It felt like the whole night had been nothing but a concentrated stream of new information and emotional whiplash. He clenched and unclenched his fists, stewing in the bile until Cassie snapped him out of it.

“Oh - Bob, aren’t you going to use any of those?” Cassie asked as she gestured to the first aid kit. Bob looked over to her, puzzled. 

“Huh? I did?” 

“For yourself, I mean.” 

As if waiting for its cue, Bob suddenly felt his whole body protesting about the injuries he somehow hadn’t felt until now. Bob winced, then looked down over himself, and wow how did he not notice that? There was an especially nasty looking red gash across the top of his barefoot, making him curse the fact he’d long since lost his last good pair of shoes. He leaned over to wipe it clean and felt a sharp shooting pain “Gah, shit!”

“Oh, Bobby,” Helmut said sadly. 

“Tsk - That’s no way to do it,” Otto chided. Bob nearly sniped back at him before Otto had already leaned across the semicircle and pressed the cuff of his jacket on the wound to wipe the blood and mud off. 

Bob hissed, “That hurts.”

“I gathered. But there, clean...er,” Otto sat back upright on his beanbag, “Not the best but hey, what has been tonight, am I right?” He remarked sardonically. Bob rolled his eyes and laid a bandage over the wound. That was definitely gonna need a second pass another time soon.

“Your coat,” Compton said with concern.

“Eh, it needed to be washed anyway.” Otto waved his hand flippantly. How that guy could be so laissez faire about the situation was just completely beyond Bob’s comprehension, so he left it at that. Instead, he set the first aid box down and put his arm back around Helmut’s shoulder to give him a squeeze. Even if he was in the body of the world’s biggest nutcase, that was still Helmut’s brain at the reins, and he needed him. Silence fell back over them, but only briefly.

“So, ok, I know I said I didn’t wanna talk anymore,” Helmut started with a whisper, “but the curiosity’s too much. Where is Lulu, anyways?” Helmut asked so quietly it sounded like he wasn’t sure he should bring it up at all “Is she…?”

“She’s not dead, if that’s what ya mean.” Ford fussed with his arm, readjusting its position, “I saw Razputin’s father carry her off the shore, so she should be with her family right now. Forsythe says she’s got eyes on the situation.” 

“Razputin is Lucy’s family?” Otto asked, surprised.

“Long story, but yes.” 

“Huh.”

“It’s a miracle she was stopped so… so” Compton's sentence petered out.

“Peacefully?” Cassie offered.

“Bit of an overstatement if you ask me,” Otto retorted.

“You got anything better?” Bob sneared. 

Hollis cleared her throat, and the room went silent. She stood by the doorway, the other two agents having left without anyone noticing. “Alright. I’ve just received word that it is now safe to return to the Motherlobe. Oleander has already taken care to escort the interns, and I’ve sent Agents Nein and Vodello to look after Razputin and Lili, who are currently with Truman’s mind and body. That leaves you six with me.” She surveyed the group, a calculative look in her eyes. “Agent Mentallis.”

“Yes, Agent Forsythe?”

“We’ll be heading to your lab first. If you’d be able to assist with the issue of all the, let’s say, missorted brains we’ve discovered were at play this week, that would make things go much smoother.” 

“Of course.”

“We’ll also have our medical team stationed there by the time we arrive, to attend to any injuries we couldn’t handle here.” 

“Do we have to meet with them?” Compton asked wearily.

“I’m not having any of you go into critical condition on my watch, Agent Boole.” 

Compton nodded his head in grim acceptance. Cassie held his hand, and his expression softened. 

“And Agent Cruller,” She looked at him thoughtfully, “I recall your specialty was-?”

“Aht, don’t think I can be usin’ much of any powers right now, specially teleporting. Unless you wanna risk a lost limb or three.” 

Hollis huffed, “Fine. We’ll walk.” Hollis shifted her stance, commanding an air of respect even as her suit wrinkled from being half-way dry of pond water, “Is everyone ready to make the trip?” The group muttered yeses and agreements, prompting Hollis to briskly step outside to lead the way. 

Bob couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually left Green Needle Gulch. Or his greenhouse for that matter. He had resigned himself to a life living off of whatever produce he could grow and making his own liquor when even the thought of leaving to get more of that was too much. That’d been enough. It felt like it anyway. People had come and tried to pull him out of there of course. Truman had written his letters. Otto came to visit once in a blue moon too, even if it was just to brag about his work and because someone had to keep the lights on for his stupid vending machine. But Bob had his means to get by, and up until tonight he’d been sure things would stay that way until he keeled over dead. 

Now here he was, in the middle of his friends lined up like school children, taking care to mind the gaps in the wooden walkways as they all headed up the cliffside and into the forest that had hidden him from the modern world. Most of them were quiet, focusing on the journey more than any idle chat they could muster up. Good , Bob thought. Their brief break in the Heptadome had been enough to remind him he had a body, one that ached and stung and bemoaned an oncoming migraine, so he was spent on talking for now. Talking with people, at least.

The forest protecting the Gulch was as talkative and moody as ever. It was extra muddy since the water from the storm was still slowly draining away, much to the discontent of the brambles and thorny plants. Everyone had to tread slowly. As Bob passed through, listening to the plant life complaining so loudly (and colorfully - for plants, anyways) elicited a strange feeling of pride. He’d helped with fortifying their defenses back in the day, after all. If they were still truckin’, at least he’d done something right. Some of the older plants even still recognized him, mostly the trees. A cluster of thorny roots meant to attack anyone who drew near instead drew itself back as the group walked by. It waved to Bob with a tinge of pleasant surprise, and he waved back. Good to see you too. 

The only thing that drew Bob out of tune with the hum of the forest was when he heard Compton cry.

“Ooh, you poor things!” Compton was standing at the front of the huge beehive in the middle of the path. The hive stood taller than him as he leaned against it and listened to the bees inside. Cassie knelt down beside him looking worried. “Were you hurt? Is there flooding in there, should we be helping?” He asked and went dead silent to get a response. What sounded to Bob like just a whole lot of buzzing had Compton nodding along, hemming and humming as he took in everything the bees were saying. 

“Is that right?”

Buzz buzz.

“I’m not sure.”

Buzz Buuuzzz.

“I might have it in my clothes chest, I’d have to check.”

Buzzbuzz buzz.

“You saw him run through here??”

Buzz!

“Goodness!”

“Let me hear too, Boolie!” Cassie crouched even further down until she was able to listen in. The rest of the group had stopped completely at this point to watch and listen. Bob heard Helmut mutter under his breath, something about how it all made sense now, which Bob opted not to question. Hollis looked none too pleased about the development. She said nothing, simply letting the bug experts do their thing, but her impatience was evident in how she tapped her fingers along her crossed arms. After what must have been a solid minute of back and forth and buzzing, Compton finally lifted his head back up, and sighed.

“Well, I don’t know about being able to do all that, but, yes! If things aren’t too dire we can come back tomorrow. It’s the least we could do.” Compton sounded tired, but optimistic. 

“It’s good just knowing you’re OK for now,” Cassie patted the side of the hive reverently, “You can rely on us to keep our word. Tomorrow it is.” 

“Finished?” Hollis asked from further up ahead on the path than the others.

“Just a bit of housekeeping, Agent Forsythe.” Compton said. He tipped his hat to her before getting back on the path. Cassie held his hand, and everyone started along again.

Finally stepping into the Questionable Area was like passing through the looking glass. Unlike the Gulch or even the forest, this place looked untouched, the same kitschy tourist spot Bob had been amused by when Ford had first brought him to the two-bit diner to discuss living arrangements. Honestly, with or without the storm Bob was surprised it was still standing, even back then the place was getting by on its last legs. The rickety pathways up in the treetops loomed over the group as they walked over the dirt paths. Bob stared up at them, wondering how the owners had ever been allowed to build such a dangerous set up, and caught sight of a little figure perched halfway behind a high up bush. With half his glasses broken out of the frame he had a hard time making out if it was a person, or some messed up owl, but either way he startled backward when it locked eyes with him.

“The hell??” 

“You good, Bobby?” Helmut asked.

“What’s wrong?” Cassie chimed in as well. 

“There’s a, a uh -” Bob pointed up toward the trees. “A thing!! A guy, up there!” 

“I don’t see anyone.” 

Everyone’s eyes followed Bob’s pointed finger up to the bush, where nothing perched or stared at them at all.

“I just saw them…” Bob scratched his head. 

“We don’t have time to pause on every distraction, people,” Hollis warned from ahead. Bob considered snipping back at her, but everyone else was already walking ahead of him, and the moment passed. 

They continued on, able to see the faint glow of the upside down waterfall in the dark, and as they passed one of the big signs that noted the “facts?” about it, Bob saw someone dash between bushes and just out of his sight before he could parse out the shapes. 

“There! Again!” He gestured where the river flowed past the watermill and under a dilapidated bridge. His confusion multiplied when he saw that beyond the bridge, there were lights on at the campsite. So maybe it was people he’d been seeing? But if that was the case…“Why are people still camped out here?”

“That’s where I sent the Aquatos to set up after they arrived at Motherlobe.” Hollis informed. If he squinted, Bob could just barely make out the movement of a few people. He had no discernable way of telling who was who, but he didn’t need to. He remembered the name Aquato, when Lucy would get letters from her sister and brother-in-law.

“...Oh. Okay then.”

“Their kids musta been curious about us. Let’s leave ‘em be.” Ford picked up the pace with a haste that Bob recognized immediately as the gate of someone who was very much hoping to avoid talking to someone. Couldn’t blame him. Bob could sense his friends all craning their necks trying to see what the Aquatos were up to, but as Ford rushed away to the parking lot, a shadow popped out from behind a tree one more time, this time staying put long enough for Bob to make out it was a little girl. Couldn’t be more than 5 or 6 years old. She was wearing a patched up little circus uniform and had her hair in big loops on both sides, and stared at the group with eyes that very well might be bigger than an owl’s. Her expression was hard to parse, but her gaze was fixed on them. Cassie waved at her, and the kid ran back to the campground with a hushed gasp. When she was further away, Bob thought maybe he heard her laugh. Or cry. The two sounds were deceptively similar more often than not.

“She seems nice,” Cassie said softly. 

“How can you tell?” Otto asked, “All she’s done is spy on us.”

“Oh you know a child’s curiosity is only natural. Besides, if she’s Razputin and Lucy’s family, that’s nearly a given.”

Otto opened his mouth, closed it, nodded, “Fair enough.” 

The sign by the campsite had a big blue ribbon draped across it, and there were bits and pieces of loose equipment and baggage littering the rest of the pathway to the parking lot. Guess some things did change here after all, which became all the more apparent as the exit to the parking lot gave way to a towering blue circus tent with a large sign, Aquatodome! hand painted on the front. Helmut and Cassie cooed at the sight, and Bob felt a nostalgic pang remembering stories Lucy told about her family’s circus back in Grulovia. 

Hollis stopped in front of a large vehicle parked in front of the Lumberstack - now that definitely had to be closed for good - and began speaking with Ford, who had reached it first. “Will you be alright to sit in the back? The plan was to apprehend the mole and bring him back in this, but seeing as plans changed...” The car was a big, silver van with no identifying markers. The only thing at all that made it evident this was Psychonauts property was that sliding doors behind the drivers’ cabin were sealed on both sides by faintly glowing, psitanium colored locks. Ford looked it over, bemused.

“You ask like there’s much of a choice.”

“We could keep walking the rest of the way.” 

“No thank you,” Compton briskly walked over to the van and stood patiently, most of the others shortly behind him. “Let’s get out of here.” 

The ride to Otto’s lab was, thankfully, uneventful. It was awkward, sure, sitting in the back of a psychically reinforced van meant for folks the Psychonauts would be hauling in for questioning, but it did in fact beat walking anymore than they needed to. Cassie and Compton found something to laugh about, and Ford and Otto reminisced a little more. As for Bob, he just kept a firm grip on Helmut’s hand, the one that was far too small, and tried to block out the world for a little bit. The headache that had been building up was in full swing now, every little bump in the road rattling his poor brain around in his skull like it was about to fall out. Even with his eyes closed he could see the lights from the road as they flitted in and out from the tiny window connecting the back of the van with the driver’s seat where Hollis was. 

The van parked with a rough jerk. Bob groaned, and the others paused their conversations as they heard Hollis getting up and slamming the front door - agh - after she got out. A moment of silence, then the click and whir of a lock being undone before one of the side doors slid open, making Bob wince as light permeated into the van. 

“Alright, everyone out. Medics are set up this way then we’ll figure out where to go from here.” Hollis, who had sounded quite aggravated through most of the night, sounded a little softer now. Maybe the drive there had given her time to collect her thoughts, or maybe she was just tired like the rest of them. Bob heard the sounds of seatbelts unbuckling and friends leaving the van, then felt a tug at his hand.

“C’mon Bobby,” Helmut said softly. For the first time that night Helmut was the one guiding Bob as they stepped onto the pavement. Bob risked opening his eyes halfway in a manner he was sure made him look like a confused old dog, and he could see shapes and colors shifting into recognizable people and equipment, medical staff with impromptu stations for checking up on everyone. Bob didn’t follow much of what happened for the next several dozen minutes - he’d never liked going to the doctor, answering questions, being prodded, whatever else it was that made him wish he could just go home. The only thing he kept track of for sure was when his friends were given the clear to leave. Cassie and Compton, they got cleaned up the quickest and wanted to go back to Compton’s place there at the Motherlobe.

“It’s quiet, and quite small, but it’s comfortable, if you want to stay over there with me, for the night that is,” Compton said to Cassie, as if she’d need convincing for a chance to escape the swarm of concerned people she didn’t know. Bob would gladly go with them if he were able. The two of them spoke to Hollis - who was also being examined, though it was obvious she bounced back fast, had come away from the ordeal nearly unscratched - and then gave everyone farewells and hopeful wishes about seeing each other the next day. Bob waved goodbye to them just as he was given the clear that he could get off the foldable cot he’d been sat down at by a woman in one of those Psychonauts uniforms he’d personally always thought looked a little goofy. With the towel he’d been given draped over his shoulders he headed over to Helmut as soon as he could, though he was told by another personel to keep his distance. 

“I’ll get as close to my husband as I wanna.”

“It's... Standard procedure? Sir,” a man said, sounding more than a little perplexed as he looked between Bob and Helmut. When Bob realized where the confusion was coming from he huffed and crossed his arms, looking down to hide how embarrassment burned on his face. Stupid mole, stupid agents, stupid medic, stupid everything --

“It’s - ow - ok Bob! I think I’ll be good soon!” Helmut gave Bob a thumbs up from the cot he was sitting on as he was being examined. Bob sighed, stood aside, and waited. The sound of some colorful not-swears drew Bob’s attention over to where Ford was, and it was apparent that he was getting wrestled into some type of arm sling by frustrated looking people. Guess he did break his arm after all, or at least something like that. Bob could relate to Ford’s protests; the guy seemed almost embarrassed at the prospect of being helped out, and that was a thought Bob decided not to stay on for too long.

By the time Helmut could finally get back over to Bob, Ford had been ushered off to the sounds of his tired protesting that he didn’t need “overnight monitoring”, and Otto had at some point walked over to wait a respectful distance away from Bob. His hair was fixed back up, though his glasses were still busted, and he was missing that dumb coat of his. If he wanted to make small talk at all, it died with whatever look Bob shot at him and he’d opted instead to just tap his feet and fuss with the pendant he’d taken to wearing in recent years. After all the waiting and headache and turmoil that night Bob’s patience had started running thin, and the last thing he needed was Otto’s smarmy attitude about the situation, acting like he was coasting above it all. 

“Hey you two!” Helmut was cheerful, despite everything, “Just got the ol’ go ahead that I’m not gonna be indisposed, isn’t that great?”

“It is,” Bob said with a hand pressed against his forehead.

“Oh! Sorry, this better?” He lowered his voice, and Bob nodded. “I saw like half our crew abandon ship, any ideas if we’re joining them later on?” Bob grunted, unsure, but Otto seemed prepared with an answer.

“We’ll actually be heading into my lab, Helmut. Do you remember what Hollis said earlier?”

“You’ll have to refresh me, was a little hard to focus.”

Otto turned on his heel and headed toward the big sliding double doors that sat under a big sign labeled Otto Lab . Always keeping it humble, that Mentallis. “I’ll fill you in once we’re inside - don’t want to be a bother while the medical staff cleans up, you know.” Helmut smiled as he followed Otto, pulling Bob along with him before noticing Bob’s resistance. He looked back, still smiling but with his head tilted questioningly.

“What’s up, buttercup?” 

“I uh, it’s just been a while since I came over here.” 

“You wanna wait outside or-?”

“No no I’m definitely coming in with you, sorry, sorry.”

“No worries, babe.” Agh, the pet names, Bob never wanted them to stop ever again. It was enough to get him to will his feet forward and into the lab. Otto was standing at one of those thinkerprint scanners in front of a huge rocky wall absolutely plastered with warning labels. Otto seemed to sense Bob’s apprehension, though perhaps not for the right reason.

“Don’t worry about the signs, a lot of them are just to discourage folks from coming in and bothering me.” Otto stepped closer to the scanner and after a beat the doors started sliding apart, revealing a hallway absolutely choked with bright, buzzing red lights and sirens firing off that had Bob and Helmut both going to cover their ears. “Ohoh, those too!” 

“Give a guy a warning next time! Sheesh !” Bob’s head throbbed as the three rushed past the lights and into a huge, darkly lit laboratory. Bob rubbed at the spot between his eyes, needing a moment to adjust. Helmut sighed, relieved, and with his ears still covered he headed over to a yellow couch and proceeded to fall back onto it. 

“You two wait here, I have to check in with Sasha.” Otto hurried off past his desk and shelf area absolutely stuffed to the gills with his various inventions and off toward a huge, menacing structure that took up the entire back wall of the lab. It’s green glow dominated the place with its presence, and if Bob had to hazard a guess, that was the “creepy brain bin” Helmut had been telling him about a few hours ago. Otto reached the segmented stairs that lead up to it then hit something on the underside of those stairs with the side of his foot. The stairs quickly shifted into their individual pieces, sliding and floating out of the way to reveal a latch hidden under the brain bin. Otto opened the latch with a telekinetic flick of the wrist then hurried down into it, leaving Bob’s line of sight. 

“Wow…” Helmut breathed, “He’s really upgraded his set up.” He uncovered his ears and looked every which way, drinking in the environment. Bob didn’t think it was that impressive, but Helmut’s awe was cute at least. 

“Ever since the Psychonauts really kicked off he’s been really going at it with his tech. I don’t think he’s ever taken a vacation day, married to his work and all, and I think this place might be even bigger than the last time I saw it.”

“When was that?”

“Ten… eleven years ago?”

“Wow.”

“Yeah…” Bob leaned back into the couch and stared back at the bin. “I wonder if I could’ve checked back then-”

“Hey, hey you couldn’t have even known.” Helmut started drumming his fingers on his knee, “Hell I mean, I couldn’t have even known, I was just - poof - gone.”

“But maybe if-”

“Zip.”

“But -”

“Nah-uh. I know how you get. No what-if-ing.” 

Bob sighed, he knew when Helmut wouldn’t let something slide. “Ok… Do you think we should tell him about it?”

“Oh, what? Of course, absolutely.”

“Like, now, or?”

Helmut hummed “Not tonight, no. I don’t think I’m ready for that. Are you?”

“No.”

“Then that’s settled, at least.” Helmut took Bob’s hand again and kept examining the room, a mix of anxious ticks and wonder on his face. He asked a question every so often that Bob didn’t have any good answers to, but Helmut didn’t seem to mind, just an excuse to keep talking to Bob. Despite his headache Bob let him, remembering now how Helmut liked using conversations to keep himself out of his own head when he was nervous. 

When Otto finally rose back up from the lower level of his lab, Helmut had been in the middle of asking, “-- let the thing loose in the Gulch? Oh - hi, Otto!” Helmut waved.

“Sorry I took so long, whatever Johnsmith had paid his accomplice to do with his brain made extracting it surprisingly difficult.” Otto beckoned the two to come over to the other side of the lab. “But that’s settled now, and we can move on to getting your brain taken care of!”

Helmut looked to Bob with uncertainty, then over to Otto, though Bob had a guess he wasn’t looking at Otto. 

“You mean, to take my brain back out?”

“Well of course. I - oh , I don’t think I actually explained, please come over!” Otto’s pleasant smile made Bob feel uneasy, but he followed Helmut when he was the first to meet Otto halfway across the room. “There’s a lot of back and forth that’s not too important, but what you need to know is that I have Johnsmith’s brain contained right now, and Hollis needs it back in the right body so we can start interrogation as soon as possible.”

“Ok, I follow that, big shot wanted to leave this old thing behind, makes sense. But what’ll happen to me? We - I mean we don’t even know where my body is yet, I was sort of hoping we’d find it first? That’s probably dumb but, you know, it’s kind of nice being concious and feeling things! I could do this a little longer, I have to leave right now?”

“You won’t be leaving, I’ll just be extracting your brain and putting it in a cerebrosphere! It’s a simple -”

“A what?”

“Yeah, what the hell’s that, Otto?” Bob raised an eyebrow.

“Oh - oh I’ll show you!” Otto held his hands out and his pendant shone for a moment, beckoning a clear ball over from behind his desk. He held it up proudly, that same smile like nothing was weird about this at all. “This is a portable cerebrospinal fluid container! The agents who use it gave it the cerebrosphere nickname, but it’s cute so it’s stuck. Here, want to hold it?” He asked and set it in Helmut’s hands before he could answer. “It’s made of psitanium infused reinforced glass and it retains an electric current within the framework so that it can properly house agents’ brains! You see here --” Otto continued on with his explanation, not noticing the way Bob did how Helmut seemed more and more concerned, a frown slowly crossing his face as he rotated the basketball sized sphere in his hands. 

“Otto?” Bob asked, maybe a bit too quietly. He felt a sense of dread in his stomach, not sure he wanted to have any sort of prolonged spat with Otto. 

“-- there was even an agent who used one for half a year! Can you --”

Bob cleared his throat as he saw Helmut’s eyes widen at the anecdote, “Otto.” 

“Yes, Bob?” Otto tilted his head toward him, “Is there something you weren’t following, hmm?” 

“I think maybe you’re the one not following how this sounds like a bad idea.”

“Bad idea? What?” Otto looked between the two men, “Helmut, are you ok?”

“ Now you notice.” Otto glared at Bob, his smile on his face dropping. Helmut’s eyes stayed locked on the sphere, still turning it. 

“Would I have to stay in there for that long?”

“Of course not, that was just an example.”

“And, and if I do, what then? What if it has to be for 6 months, or a year, 10, 20 more years -”

“Helmut, that’s not going to happen.” 

“Do you know for sure?”

“With near certainty -”

“Not full certainty? Cause it’s happened before and it could happen again?” Helmut fumbled the ball and Otto caught it psychically.

“No, of course not!”

“Can you prove it?” Bob asked sharply.

“There’s no way to prove that kind of uncertainty. I just have my experience to say that that won’t happen.” 

Bob sneered, “Well you’ve been wrong before.” 

“Oh don’t get like this with me right now.”

“Like what, skeptical? I’ve got good reason to be, Helmut just got back and now he can’t even keep a body-”

“We don’t have spare human bodies, Bob, that would be insane. The cerebrosphere is our best option for Helmut right now, it’s not like I’m storing him in the brainframe or anything. He’ll still be able to move and talk, this might even be more convenient than a body.”

“Still sounds like a big hassle to me.”

Helmut stuttered “I- Hey I mean, if I’ll still be able to talk -”

“Can't it at least wait a night?” Bob asked.

“No, actually, it can’t, Hollis was very clear.” Otto’s posture had shifted, from his casual way of holding himself to something harsher, taller and stiffer.

“Really, I’m fine with it if that’s the case.” Helmut stepped between Bob and Otto as the two started leering toward each other. “I just needed clarification, that’s all, honestly!”

“You’re so impatient,”

“I’m just doing my job right now, that’s not impatience, that's a good work ethic, ever heard of that?”

“It must’ve slipped my mind when you were rambling.” 

“Maybe I should use smaller words, go slower for you.”

“ Otto .” Helmut gasped. 

“Helmut, it’s fine.” Otto said, looking very much not fine. “Bob just doesn’t understand that this is a very simple procedure, and that you’ll be fine . I’ve done it dozens of times with agents who wanted to use them and there’s been no problems.” 

“Well I’m still a little hesitant to let Helmut be taken back there to get experimented on-”

“It’s not an experiment! There are rules and methods to experiments that don’t apply here, you can’t just call anything scientific whatever you please! I know you know better.”

“Then maybe I just don’t care anymore.”

“Guys!” Helmut's cry fell on deaf ears.

“If you don’t care, then I’m done trying to explain this.” Otto twirled his hand around and sent the ball back to his desk. In exchange something thin floated over to him. “You’re obviously tired, we’re all tired, so just take this.” Otto held out the purple folded pamphlet he’d summoned from across the room. “I give these to everyone who wants to use a cerebrosphere, maybe-”

“I don’t want a stupid pamphlet!” Bob swatted at the paper out of Otto’s hands, “I just want Helmut to be ok!”

Otto pulled his hand back, “And he will be! You just have to trust me!”

“Why should I? Why should anyone, after your stupid plan killed him?!” The venom in his words left a sick taste in his throat, he hadn’t even realized what he’d said until he saw the hurt on Otto’s face. “I…” He clenched his fists and looked down at his feet. Otto inhaled deep through his nose There was static in the air - literally. Bob could see it faintly sparking off Otto’s body in the periphery of his vision.

“Bob, Otto, please,” Helmut pleaded, “I don’t have to be psychic to tell things between you two are little… well, a lot heated right now. I don’t want you to be fighting like this because of me.” 

“It’s more complicated than that.” Otto huffed, “Bob’s been difficult for years.”

“Difficult?” Bob tightened his balled fists, nails dug in his skin, “Oh I’m so sorry for being difficult after losing my husband!”

“And my friend! Friends, plural !” Otto took a moment to brush his hands back through his hair, an arc of electricity sparking over the points of contact. Another sharp inhale, “You think I don’t know I messed up? Think I haven’t been trying to make up for it all these years, just twiddling my thumbs here in this lab thinking “ Ooooooh how will I piss off Bob Zanotto today? ” This has been hard for me too, Bob! I’ve just been doing something productive with my time instead of -!” Helmut reached out and gripped Otto’s shoulder, not pulling away even as the static made his hair frizz up. 

“Instead of what?” Helmut’s harsh tone took both other men aback for a moment. Otto looked to him, to Bob, back and forth. “I’m not sure you want to finish that sentence.”

 “Ok… ok… just… Do you really think I like not even being able to visit anymore? Without us getting into these stupid arguments?”

Bob sighed. It would be a lie to act like he hadn’t made the assumption. Otto’s visits to the Gulch - to the greenhouse - were just another reminder of everything he’d lost. Otto had always been so unsettlingly chipper too, even as he’d dodged drunkenly slung bottles, even as he’d been trying to talk to Bob… invite him to some inane nonsense he was going to be attending… get him to leave his self imposed tomb. 

“Well?”

“Listen. You’re right, like always. I’m being an idiot.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Well, it’s what you meant.”

“What I meant was that I’m trying to do what’s best for everyone here, and I’m frustrated, it’s late, and I can’t start making things better if you want to stand around and argue about this.”

“I don’t want to, I’m just… scared. I'm tired and scared.” Bob unclenched his fists and crossed his arms. There was a gnarled knot in his brain, trying to reconcile his feelings, but right now it was just too much to keep being angry. 

“Well. That makes two of us.” Otto said.

“Three!” The unexpected shift in Helmut’s voice right back to cheerful got a nervous chuckle out of Bob and Otto before they could think twice. “What I’m hearing here, if I remember my feelings right, is that you guys must be having a real hard time getting back on that good wavelength you used to be on. And that you missed me. Which I appreciate, I missed you too. I think you guys could really chill out sometime after this, connect over that, you know? Common ground!”

“I’m not sure we really ever had common ground.” Bob mused.

“Ok, now I know that’s not true,” Helmut looked to Otto, “I know you’d always say you got some of your best ideas when you and Bob hung out by the waterfall. And oh-” Helmut mimed a faux look of surprise in Bob’s direction, “I seem to remember a certain someone telling me that he went to Otto of all people to plan his proposal.” Bob rolled his eyes, a bit embarrassed at the memory.

Otto was still stiff, but sighed. Bob thought he could hear electricity spark between the silence before Otto said, “You’re not wrong. Those were good times… but things have changed since then. Maybe more than I could see. I’ve been waiting, I guess, for a version of Bob to respond to me that wasn’t here anymore. I can work through whatever comes my way, but that’s not you.” He looked emphatically to Bob, “I’m sorry about ignoring that. Truly, I am.”

“And I’m… I’m sorry too. For… A lot of things.”

“Should I itemize a list for you?”

“Don’t push it.” Bob’s voice cut rough, but for once he felt a sense of playfulness push through the muck of his twisted up feelings. 

“Listen,” Helmut gestured his hands energetically toward both of them, “How abouts we all take a deep breath?” Bob was happy to oblige for the quiet it afforded everyone to inhale, exhale, repeat once or twice. “There’s a lot of bad vibes here, for now maybe we table this? There’s a lot to talk about and we’ve got lots of time to do it! And if we don’t, I’ll make some!” 

“I don’t suppose this means you’re ready to head back with me? I get why Bob’s hesitant.” Otto pressed his fingers to his temple, “I guess I haven’t done much to give him a reason to trust my judgment.”

“Well, maybe now’s a good time to try again!” Helmut’s enthusiasm encouraged Otto to lift his head back up to eye level. “I mean you’ve got all this fancy government funding now, and I’m ready to give this brain ball thingy a shot. Get me anywhere that’s not this loser’s body, am I right?”

“Right,” Otto nodded with the faint trace of a smile. “Bob?” 

“Huh - uh, yeah?” 

“I can guarantee, official Psychonauts’ honor, that Helmut’s going to be ok. If you don’t believe me, that's fine” He says, though his voice strains for just a moment, “but if you’re willing to give me a chance?” he gestured down toward the backroom, the one that’d lead to the other switched up brains. Like Truman’s. Oh Jesus, Truman was back there.

Bob swallowed the lump in his throat, “I’ll try. But I don’t think I can go back there. I’m not ready to see Truman yet on top of everything else.”

Otto nodded, “That’s reasonable. From the way Lili was threatening me I think she’d rather have Truman to herself a while anyways. Should I at least tell him you’re ok?”

“… Sure. Not really sure how I could hide all this for long,” he gestured at himself.

“Question!” Helmut chirped.

“Yes?” Otto turned to Helmut.

“Who’s Lili?”

Otto shared a look with Bob, the both of them knowing Bob would want to answer. Still, Bob found it embarrassing to admit, “Truman’s daughter.”

Helmut gasped and put both hands on Bob’s shoulders, “A daughter?! As in like, we have a niece? We’re uncles??”

“I mean, we’re already Truman’s uncles.”

“Yes but this is more! It’s like, uncles, the sequel! This is great! How old is she?”

“I think she might’ve turned ten sometime in the spring?” He recalled from the most recent letter Truman had sent. 

“Ten!! That’s an awesome age, an adventurous age! Oh I can’t wait to meet her!”

Bob bit his tongue so Helmut didn’t have to hear him say “ You and me both, buddy .” Instead, he patted one of his hands and said, “Once you’re back there, maybe you say hi to her for both of us.” Helmut pulled Bob into a hug, the tightest one he could manage with the skinny arms that couldn’t reach all the way around Bob’s frame. Bob held him in return, trying to remind himself this wasn’t going to be the last time they’d do this. It couldn’t be. He’d make sure of it. He glanced at Otto, who was just staying quiet as the two embraced. Their eyes met briefly, but it was clear to see he felt awkward about the situation. At least Bob thought it was awkward, who knew exactly what went through Otto’s head. Maybe he’d learn again sometime?

“I promise you’ll get a better hug than that once I’ve got my own body back. And kisses, soooo many kisses,” Helmut chuckled as he let go of Bob. His eyes shone with the threat of tears, “But even if I’m just gonna be a brain in a, uh, a cerebellowhatsist -“

“Cerebrosphere!” Otto couldn’t help but correct him.

“That! Thank you! I’ll still be here! With you! So I’ll be back as soon as I can, that’s a promise.” 

“Ok.” Bob lifted his glasses to wipe at his own weepy eyes, “I’ll be right here, waiting for you.”

Bob pulled his arms around himself as Helmut and Otto waved and left the main lab, down further into rooms filled with people Bob couldn’t face and whatever else Otto had stored in this big, ominous lab of his. Every corner of it felt like it reflected Bob’s loneliness, even as Otto’s inventions softly whirred in almost every direction. Once the two were out of his sight for good, Bob slowly walked back over to the yellow couch and sat down. He did his best to keep his breathing steady as he waited by himself. 

Helmut will be ok. I will be ok. It’s alright, it’s ok. 

He sank further into the couch, and rested his head on the back to look up at the ceiling. It was solid rock, with a few monitors floating overhead. He blinked once, twice, then felt a hand on his shoulder and nearly jumped out of his skin.

“AH! Ah - God damn it, Otto, don’t scare me like that!” He pouted as Otto pulled his hand back and rubbed the back of his head.

“Sorry, sorry! Good news though, everything went off without a hitch!”

“Wh- already?” Bob pushed himself up a bit from the couch, “Didn’t you and Helmut just leave?”

Otto stifled a laugh with a cough, “...It’s been an hour, you fell asleep.”

“Ah.” Bob settled back. That made sense. He hadn’t moved around half as much in a decade than he had tonight. 

“We could hear you snoring from across the room.” Helmut’s voice - his real, actual voice , even if it was being processed through some kind of filter - made Bob perk up again. It was just as warm and rich as he’d remembered, maybe even more so. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked around the room expectantly, but only saw Otto, standing there with an amused grin on his face. He pointed down to guide Bob’s gaze just as he felt something solid bump gently against his foot. “Down here, lazy daisy.”

“Helmut!” Bob cracked a smile and leaned over to get a better look down at the floor. Helmut - or his brain, more specifically - was in one of those glass containers Otto had been trying to sell him on. Bob couldn’t contain the laugh in his voice as he said “You’re looking…short.”

“Isn’t this thing snazzy?” Helmut rolled around in a few circles before coming to a stop. “Better than my old set up for sure!” Bob groaned as he leaned over the rest of the way to reach down, grabbed Helmut, and sat back upright to pull him into his arms. The glass was warm to the touch, a surprising but welcome sensation. A reminder the brain inside was the real deal, alive and jumping. Bob held Helmut up around eye level. His mind was submerged in a viscous, clear fluid, but much more importantly, it was topped by an extremely small knitted beanie, complete with the adorable horned look Helmut loved so much. 

“The hat’s a nice touch.” Bob laughed. 

“Isn’t it? Thank Otto for that one, he saved the old thing from the Gulch earlier, I hadn’t even realized I’d lost it!”

“It flew right in my face,” Otto chuckled, “Kept it tucked in my coat then forgot to pull it out when I’d sent it off to get cleaned. Wouldn’t you know it, wool shrinks when you heat it. Happy accidents!”

“Any accident that doesn’t end in an explosion is a happy one for you,” Bob smirked. 

“Naturally,” Otto shrugged his shoulders, “Anyways, I told Helmut this already but the cerebrospinal fluid in there should last a week or so before you need to come back here and get it changed. Don’t go near any unstable electrical wiring, be mindful of psychically restricted areas, don’t use any heavy machinery—“ Otto’s speech was obviously well practiced, with a level voice and even paced cadence that ironically made most of it slip through one ear and out the other. Bob nodded along to it, hoping he’d be able to retain the important bits of information long enough to write a note later, “— and while the glass is able to survive high velocity collisions I’m sure I don’t need to tell you not to throw a brain around.”

“Aw, but what about my need for speed?” Helmut whined.

“No dumb stunts,” Bob held Helmut close to his chest, “It was bad enough whenever you’d scare me half to death trying to do donuts with the van”

“Psh, You’re no fun.”

“Shoosh.” Bob rubbed a thumb across the glass, smiling as Helmut radiated warmth and sunshine.

Otto clapped his hands together, “Perfect! I think that’s all the must-knows for now at least, so how’s about you two get going? It’s been a looooong night. There should be an agent outside to show you to the place set up for you in the Motherlobe.” That was a relief to hear Bob wouldn’t have to make any prolonged march back to the Gulch just to get some rest.

“Sleeping on an actual bed sounds nice - I think if I’d slept on this thing any longer I could’ve broken my back.” Bob set Helmut down on the cushion beside him and stretched his arms up over his head with a yawn and the sound of a loud pop! “Oh - oh that might’ve done it,” He rubbed at his back, but luckily it seemed that was the good kind of pop, or at the very least benign. With another yawn he pushed himself to his feet. He picked Helmut up again, and held him close as he turned to face the door out. He looked out toward it, then back, to Otto, still just standing there, awkwardly unsure of what to do with his hands when he wasn’t working on something.

“ You good, Bobby? ” Helmut stage whispered - maybe even said it just to Bob thanks to telepathy, he wasn’t sure. 

“ Yeah, just another sec. ” 

Bob turned back toward Otto, who perked up at the unexpected development 

“Listen, Otto… I, uh, erm,” Talking earnestly never got easier, Bob had to make himself speak up louder, “I really am, well, I’m sorry. For what I said, earlier. And, I guess for a lot of stuff I’d probably said before? When you’d visit. I’m not sure what it must’ve all been.” He swallowed a lump in his throat, “But I know you were trying to help, and I know I can be. Difficult. So. Yeah. Sorry.” 

It felt like the two of them just stared each other down for an eternity. Was what he said dumb? Bob wasn’t sure how the next part happened, but one moment they were still in the most awkward stand off of the century, and the next Otto had crossed the room and wrapped his arms around him. Oh, OK, we’re doing this now. It only took one more tentative second of figuring out what to do with himself before Bob settled on returning the gesture. Otto was tall enough that Bob could put his head on his shoulder. Helmut, bless him for putting up with both of their bullshit, sat between the two nestled into Bob’s nest of a beard. Bob wasn’t sure what else to say, so silence lingered, the humming of machinery everpresent. This was awkward… but nice. He’d said he had missed everyone, and damn it, he did mean that. He wasn’t exactly sure how long they had been hugging before Otto abruptly pulled back, his face turned away as he conspicuously rubbed at the corners of his eyes.

“I should be getting some rest too. Tomorrow’s sure to be hectic.” He gave Bob a quiet, almost shy kind of smile, and lowered his gaze to warmly regard Helmut as well. “I’ll be seeing both of you around.” He spun on his heel and headed back into the further recesses of his lab before his friends could say anymore. 

“Aw, I think he likes you,” Helmut laughed, and Bob rolled his eyes as he started heading out.

“Yeah, yeah, he’s alright, I guess.”

Bob squinted as he and his husband passed back through the hall with the dozens of bright red warning lights, his headache threatening to flare again. It got better once they were back outside, in the darkness of the way-too-early morning hours, lit by the gentler light of the buildings around them. An agent he didn’t recognize at all waved him down from the side of the parking lot that led to the Motherlobe. It’d be the first time he stepped inside the real, actual building in years, and it made him nervous. At the same time he couldn’t help but feel that his friends were right, and things would be getting better from here. It was hard believing that completely, but he didn’t have to go that far just yet. He felt like for the rest of the night at least, he was allowed not to speculate. He could just hope; that'd be enough. 

As he walked over toward the agent and the Motherlobe grew closer, he remembered something from earlier.

“Hey Helmut?”

“Mhm?”

“Did you get to meet Lili?”

“Oh yeah!! she kicked me in the shin, she’s great!”