Work Text:
“....y.”
“...ny!”
“SUNNY!”
With a start, you open your eyes. In an instant, you’re overwhelmed with excruciating pain in your back, and you instantly return to your previously resting position. Unfortunately, this has the side effect of letting the blinding sunlight shine down directly into your eyes.
Sigh.
This, in addition to an absolutely foul smell assaulting your nose, rouses you into action. Against the protests of your body, you rise once again, sitting upright as you take a moment to allow your eyes to readjust to not being burnt. To your right, you see a silhouette shuffle around, towering over you with a careful demeanor.
“Thank god. I was worried for a second." The voice is, at first, is unfamiliar. You rack your brain for memories. In an instant, the events of the previous two days flicker through your mind. You turn to face the figure and, in time with the return of your memories, your eyes adjust, leaving you with the sight of a pink-haired teenage girl.
Ah. Aubrey.
“You alright? You didn’t get concussed or something, right? How many fingers am I holding up?”
‘Three’, you attempt to telepathically communicate to her. Of course, she can’t read your mind. Life is unfair like that. So, instead, you hold up three fingers in return.
She lets out a sigh of relief, her previously disguised concern melting into neutrality as she turns away from you. "So, any idea where the heck we are?" Despite asking, it's pretty clear from her gaze that she doesn't actually think you'd have the answer. Your following shrug confirms this theory.
"Figured." She looks up, squinting her eyes as she bounces glances in various directions. “I think we fell from up there? I can’t really remember.” Aubrey grips her head, probably both in contemplation and pain. “Last thing I remember is fighting that dude with a glove on his head, then…
“Ugh. I’ve got nothing.”
Finally feeling the pain in your legs subsiding, you rise to your feet. You quickly assess your impact site, slightly afraid of crawling insects or spiders getting onto you.
Thankfully, the ground appears to be nothing but soft grass, which has somehow managed to grow down here. To your right, you find your satchel, and its various items strewn around you. Guess you aren’t drinking that soda for a while. You quickly collect your things, re-fastening the strap around your shoulder before joining Aubrey’s side.
Casting your own eyes up, you’re met with an almost oppressively tall funnel up. Layer upon layer of trash stack like a cake onto each other, probably extending all the way back up that tower. You feel, briefly, a sense of amazement for those insane cultists work ethic.
“And I’ve got no idea where Hero is.” Aubrey turns on her heel, slowly glancing left and right for your friends. Kel’s name was left unspoken. You take the opportunity to fully scope out the room you’re in.
You slowly cast a long glance around the space you’ve fallen into. The room is circular, almost eerily so. The walls seemed to be made of a combination of dirt, mud, and discard pieces of trash - Abandoned bicycles, old scaffolding, soda cans, wrappers…all of them seemed to come together and form a solid enclosure. Behind you stands a carved-out tunnel, which seems to be the only exit. The floor itself wasn’t sparse of its own share of sundries too, the most striking being a book that seemed oddly familiar to oh god, that’s the photo album!
With an anxious jolt of energy, you rush over to the book, turning it over and quickly flipping through the pages. Whew. All the photos are safe. With, of course, the exception of one photo, seemingly the treehouse if Basil’s caption was anything to go by.
“Is the album okay?” Noticing your sudden sprint, Aubrey walks over to you, a similar amount of concern in her voice as she leans over your shoulder. Ah. Auby. Aaaaaaaaaaa-You nod to her, placing the album back into whatever magical pocket it was previously held in before taking a step away from her.
“Least that’s fine. As for the rest of our shit…” She takes one last glance around, letting out a sigh of hesitant acceptance at the loss of her ‘shit’. “Wait, where’s my bat?!”
Aubrey, suddenly full of anxious energy, jolts her head around hastily. Her hair whips back and forth as she searches the room. "Shit, maybe it's in one of these piles?" With impressive speed, she practically pouncing onto a nearby pile of garbage. She tears away at the pile, lifting incredibly heavy-looking TVs and dressers with remarkable ease. You think to yourself that she had to be holding back when she fought you before.
“Sunny!”
H-Huh?!
“Help me out over here!”
You immediately spring into action, partly because you’re terrified of the look in her eye.
You begin to search through the pile adjacent to her. Your nose is assaulted instantly by the smell of rotting food and decayed plywood; It coagulates together into a sensation that racks your brain with the faint pain of an oncoming headache. But you push on in spite of the sickening brown color of the garbage, or the nauseating smell that just gets stronger and stronger, or the sticky coating each objects leaves on your hands, or the oh god please let us find this bat soon.
As you slowly work through the pile, your body reflexively retracts each time your fingers brush against something a bit too soft, or a bit too lively. Your body continuously cries out in protest, and your stomach’s grip on the pizza you ate, well sorta ate, Kel made it difficult to get more than a few bites in, slips further and further.
Thankfully, you reach the bottom of the pile before you end up contributing to it. Un-thankfully, there were a small family of insects nesting under it all, and the moment light reaches them, they scatter in all directions with the speed of an Olympic runner. You jump back onto your hands, quickly scanning yourself while you scurry to your feet.
Behind you, Aubrey has made quick work of the other piles. In the time it took you to search through one, she’s practically cleared out the entire room. It doesn’t seem to be going well either. If her rummaging before was frantic, then this was frenzied.
“Damnit!” Just as she, most likely, reached the bottom of the last batch of trash, she lets out a frustrated grunt. Her hands snap up to her forehead, wiping her bangs of hair back in frustration. “It’s got to be around here somewhere! Maybe I just…”
You awkwardly fiddle with the cloth of your shorts as you watch her retrace her steps, scouring through the already scrutinized piles. Her hair repeatedly falls in front of her eyes, only to be harshly swiped away. To busy yourself, you start looking through the next pile.
“Ugh! Fucking…my hair-UGH!” She suddenly shouts out in frustration, ripping her handkerchief out from her hair and brushing all of her hair back, tying it into a much tighter ponytail.
“Sunny! Have you found anything?!”
You quickly shake your head. Her anger only seems to grow, “Perfect…”
»»»»»»»»»»»»
The two of you continue to search through the trash, re-searching pile upon pile until you’re pretty sure you’ve searched every piece of trash thoroughly three times over.
Just as you finish your third last pile, Aubrey-
“AUGH!”
-Lets out a kick into one of the abandoned TVs. Impressively, the machine gives to her kick, folding slightly with a sizable dent. More importantly, though-
“SHIT, FUCK!”
Aubrey crouches down, holding her foot in pain.
You rush over to her side, crouching down to better gauge the damage. “I’m fine, I’m fine! Probably just a bruise or two…”
Stare…
“O-Or three…”
Cautiously, you reached your hand towards her shoe, glancing up to see if she protests. No sign of resistance. You quickly remove both her shoe and sock, being met with an uncomfortably swollen foot. Feet were already sort of awkward looking to you, but this is another level entirely. She's lucky she didn't chip a toenail.
“Ugh, that looks bad. Looks like I’m limping for the rest of the week.” Aubrey leans back on her hands, pushing out an annoyed sigh as she stares up in indignance.
Hm…
You reach into your satchel and produce a soda can. Thankfully, it’s still cold. Without saying a word, you press it against her foot.
“A-Ah, hey! Warn me next time.”
Nod.
You proceed to do it again.
“Sigh.”
…
An uncomfortable silence falls over the two of you. You’re not sure what the etiquette is for holding an ice pack to someone’s foot is. Well, this isn’t an ice pack, it’s a cold soda can. And it’s quickly losing its cool.
Oh god, what’re you supposed to do?! Look her in the eye?! No - That’s weird! Augh - What would Hero do?
You try giving her a charming smile. You feel like you did a pretty good job.
“Uh, Sunny? Are you okay? You didn't hurt yourself, did ya?"
You quickly clamp your mouth shut, turning back to the soda can. Your face heats up.
...
“Hey, Sunny?”
Still feeling too embarrassed to look up at her, you give a little nod to let her know you're listening.
“I’m sorry about yelling at you earlier.” Her voice comes out meekly. She avoids looking you in the eyes, opting to stare at the ground and pick at the dirt. You can’t quite make out the expression she has, but you can tell she’s being genuine. “I’ve really been an asshole these past few days. I know I already said sorry earlier but…doesn’t mean I can keep doing it. I sort just resort to anger whenever something's bothering me. I really need to get better at that..."
You nod in response. Both letting her know that you heard her and that you forgive her.
She chuckles, “You’re too forgiving, Sunny. My friends and I literally beat you and Kel up for two days, and you just shrug it off. I swear, nothing phases you.”
“Well, aside from…”
Your grip on the can tightens. You feel a headache coming on.
“Er, right, the bat!
“I know it’s not really a good excuse, but…that bat was really important to me.”
You lift your head to look back at her. Your eyes meet briefly.
“It’s nothing special, honestly. Just a wooden bat I got a few months ago. Kim helped me add the nails to it, said it’d make me look badass.”
A nod is all you give. Kim was right. She did look badass.
“But, it’s like, a sort of memento, you know? Like that old plushie I used to carry everywhere. Hell, I don’t even use the thing most of the time! It’s just…nice to have that kind of physical reminder. Sort of like Basil and that flower clip."
You nod.
“I know she probably won’t care that I lost it. Heck, she might just straight buy me another one. But losing that one feels like I’ve…abandoned her in some way. She’s always been there for me, ever since we all split up, and I know I have you guys back now but that doesn’t mean I want to leave my new friends behind.”
Nod.
“I don’t know. I guess it’s a little stupid, especially getting so upset about it. I mean, look at me! I’ve busted up my foot just because I lost it! Heh, I’m sure Kim would talk my ear off if she saw this. And Charlie would be all over me, probably making sure I didn’t hurt myself anywhere else.”
Sunny nods.
His minds starts to wander, thinking of how their friends would react.
‘Kel would probably laugh at her, before being told off by Hero. He’d say sorry as soon as her foot was better, though.’
“Mikhael would probably say something dumb like he always does. Maybe like ‘Our leader has been wounded! Quick, somebody get the white mage!’.”
‘Hero would tell her off, saying how she shouldn’t have let her anger get the better of her. All while patching her up without hesitation.’
“Angel, well…don’t tell him I said this, but he’s a big crybaby. Mikhael cut his finger with those weird cutting machines Angel’s sister has, and he just started bawling. It took us forever to get him to calm down.”
‘That sounds like how Basil would react. He’d probably be fighting back more tears than the person who was actually hurt.’
“Vance would definitely be the one actually doing something about this. He’s pretty down-to-earth when he’s not got his face in a bag of candy, or when Kim isn’t making him doing something stupid.”
‘And Mari would’ve-’
'…'
Mari would’ve been patting her back, like the constant pillar of support she was. She’d probably reprimand Aubrey too, but only for a second, breaking into that smile of hers the moment after. Smiling even when the worst came to hit - That’s the sort of person she was.
Basil would always tell him how amazing she was, how it takes real, inner strength to be like her. Sunny always understood that, but, at this moment, he felt he truly 'got it'. Smiling even when the worst came to hit - That's the sort of person he could never be.
“Heh, I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.” Aubrey looks back down to the dirt, a bit of embarrassment painting her face. “Sorry.”
“...it’s fine.”
She looks back up. Their eyes meet.
“...I don’t mind.” He smiles back at her, albeit only slightly; Hardly noticeable at all. Just like always.
His voice has definitely changed - puberty will do that to you, but it still cares a distinct lightness to it. As if his presence were nothing more than a feather, lightly resting atop a rock. Yet, it’s just as comforting as it always was.
Aubrey finds herself speechless for a few moments, caught off-guard by this sudden development. Eventually, she manages to force out, “Your voice…it’s gotten deeper.”
Sunny-er, uhm-You suddenly realize the reality of the situation. As if breaking from a trance, all the emotions and memories from the last few moments flood into your mind, forcing you to look away sheepishly.
She seems to realize the bizarre tension in the air as well, as you make out her turning away in your peripheral vision. It’s at this point you realize that the soda can has long lost its chill. You slowly lift the can away from her foot, nudging her slightly.
“O-Oh, you’re done, huh?”
She reaches over, quickly sliding her shoes and socks back on before tentatively standing back up. She carefully presses her weight down onto her leg.
“Eh, it’s not great, but I’ll live.”
You nod, despite her not looking at you.
Looking down, you realize you’re not quite sure what to do with the soda can. After all, it’s not like the soda itself has been dirtied or something, but at the same time…foot germs. You decide to place it down gently, letting it collect dust with the rest of the trash.
Turning around, you watch as Aubrey runs her fingers through her hair, which she’s untied again.
“Well, it’s good that we’re not dead, but that doesn’t really explain where we are. I mean, there’s that exit over there, but should we really just be wandering around this place? If those freaky recycling guys built this place, who knows what the hells in here?”
There’s a surprising amount of worry laced in her voice. You suppose that, thinking about it objectively, you two are in a pretty terrifying position - Trapped deep underground(?) with no clear reason, or sign of escape. Yet, you don’t feel much about the situation. Mostly indifference.
Aubrey, however, seems to be slowly building up more and more stress. Her brow furrows as she, no doubt, contemplates what you should do.
You simply stare down at the ground, tracing shapes in the dirt. You’ve never been the best at providing much physical support to people. Or verbal support. Or, really, support of any kind. If anything, you were more akin to a wall that people threw rocks at for catharsis. Despite this, you do manage to think of one thing to do-
You lightly bump your head against Aubrey’s shoulder.
Your bump catches her by surprise, and she stumbles slightly before glancing over to you. A chuckle escapes from her lips.
“Heh, still doing that, huh?
“You really haven’t changed at all.”
It occurs to you that yeah, you used to do this a lot when you were a kid too. Whenever you were unsure of what to say to Basil’s anxious rants or Aubrey’s tearful talks, you would just…bump your head into their shoulder - A sort of quiet show of affection. A little ‘I’ve got your back.'
You really haven’t changed at all.
“Alright, yeah,” She claps her hands together, “Moping around won’t get us out of here.” Speaking with a newly steeled resolve, she looks up with that confident look she always has. “First, though, I need to find something to replace my bat.”
She starts to scan the floor, slowly panning over the various discarded items on the floor, “Oh!”
Carefully squatting, she flits her hand between a particularly sturdy-looking stick, and a piece of lumber that seems to have been used in construction. She grabs the lumber, slapping it into her palm with a confident smirk, “Eh. Good enough. Definitely got more weight than my bat - Eugh, and more bugs…”
Quickly, you search around for a new weapon of your own. Aubrey’s previous discarded stick is high on the list, but…it’d be too similar to her weapon. Everyone has to have a unique type. Thankfully, you spot a rusted garden trowel near your foot and equip it. Not quite a knife, but it works.
“Nice.”
Nod.
“Now then…” Both of your gazes trail forward towards the tunnel.
The lack of light or any sign of an ‘end’ sends a chill down your spine. In your peripheral vision, the darkness seems to form into various faces and shapes, but the moment you look towards them, they fade into nothingness. Your grip on the trowel tightens.
You feel a hand on your shoulder. Tensing up, you quickly turn to face the-
“You gonna be alright, Sunny?”
Slight concern laced in her tone, she looks towards you with a curious look. You’re unable to meet her gaze, and nod while staring down at your shoes.
“Alright. Lead the way.”
