Chapter Text
The universe is a lot of things. It is vast, it is dark and almost certainly something to be feared. The things that inhabit it are often far from friendly. Even the void between planets seems keen to kill. Despite this, however, it seems that as long as beings are born beneath the stars, they are always compelled to travel among them. This is because of one important fact that is often overlooked:
The universe is alive.
It breathes, it moves and it creates.
That’s not to say that the universe isn’t lonely though. Again, it is vast and as alive as it may be, sometimes it's hard to get the full picture of something that big, even if it is all around you. It's hard not to take it for granted, but the universe is always there. It has been for a long time and will be for a lot longer.
There are times, however, when the universe stills. A small fracture in the cosmos splits into a crack. It disappears as quickly as it appears but even that fraction of a second is enough for a drop of existence to escape. The ripple in spacetime quickly settles but the damage has been done and that drop falls.
✧✧✧
Stan was doing pretty well.
Sure, he didn't have an apartment yet. Sure, his wife had left him. Sure, she had taken the kids with her.
But Stan was still doing pretty well or at the very least, things were looking up. Jimmy, bless his soul, had really been doing him some favours and now Stan was set up to be able to afford his own place by the end of this month. It probably wouldn’t be much considering the state of the housing ladder in Los Santos but it would definitely be a start.
As for Stan’s wife and kid, yeah that one still hurt a bit but he gets it. He hadn’t exactly been the most contributive member of the family. Denise never understood his obligation to help people stay hydrated and to be fair, neither did most people. She wasn’t a bad person though, they just had different interests. Denise was a clever woman and that's why stan loved her, despite her frequent criticisms of him. He knew that there was truth behind her words and as a result, Stan was confident that his son, Roy, would have a good life with his mother, even if Stan wasn’t in it.
A loud ping from the microwave shook Stan from his thoughts. Wiping a stray tear from his cheek, he opened the door and allowed the flood of steam and smell of reheated lasagne to wash over him. He quickly pulled out the old takeaway tub and set it on the counter before fanning his slightly scorched hands. Deciding the food was almost certainly too hot to eat, he returned to staring out the window while he waited for it to cool.
The view of the night sky from Jimmy’s apartment was incredible. Friendly J had been letting Stan stay there for a few weeks while he was out of town at a friend’s wedding. It had been incredibly kind of him but Stan couldn’t help but feel guilty at the idea of accepting the offer. Jimmy did so much for him and he always seemed to fall short of repaying him outside of a couple of bottles of water on the house. Stan was determined not to make the same mistake that resulted in the end of his marriage. By that time next month, he was sure that he would be able to support himself. His Water Delivery Service was finally beginning to pick up and as long as he doesn’t crash another van, orders should only increase.
He was glad he had taken the offer on staying at the apartment. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to see the stars shine so brightly.
Wait a minute.
Stan squinted, leaning over the counter despite it making him no closer to the stars which were, of course, light-years away. He could’ve sworn that star moved.
A few seconds longer of squinting confirmed his suspicions and not only was the star moving but it was getting closer. Holding his breath, Stan watched in awe as the meteor descended, lighting up the sky as it approached. With a boom, the display ended as the comet crashed down maybe a few miles away from the apartment. The impact shook the surrounding area, Stan included. He was still a little too shocked to notice the rattling walls of Jimmy’s kitchen and stood staring out the window for a while after the quaking had died down.
With a blink, Stan remembered where he was. He glanced down at his unevenly heated dinner and quickly decided that it could wait. It wasn’t every day a meteor crash-landed in the backyard.
He walked into the hallway and quickly bent down to pull on his only pair of shoes before making his way out into the corridor. As he headed for the entrance to the small apartment block, Stan noticed that one of the neighbours, Melissa, was peering out of her door at him.
“Did you hear that racket?” She asked, eyes wide.
“Yes,” Stan replied with a slight grin. ”I do believe it was a meteor. I was just going to see if I could find where it landed.”
“Oh really. Huh, well be careful,” She crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame, “Dunno what radiation that thing might be leaking.”
”I'm sure I'll be fine, Melissa.” Stan smiled before continuing to the double door at the end of the corridor. With a beep, the door swung open automatically, exposing him to the cold winter air. Stan wasn’t one for dressing appropriately though so he continued, his arms folded.
He rounded the corner of the building, a few stray leaves crunching underfoot as a further reminder of the harsh time of year. As the trees Stan had seen the comet disappear behind came into view, his pace quickened to almost a jog. As much as he didn't want to be out at this time and in this weather, his curiosity kept him heading for the small patch of woods. His distaste for the way the looming branches swayed in the evening wind was almost enough to turn him around but he was already at the tree line.
It would be a waste to turn back now.
It wasn't hard to find the crater. The surrounding trees had been combed outwards and there were some misplaced branches and piles of dirt strewn about, all pointing in the same direction. After maybe a minute more of walking, the hole was visible.
Stan cautiously approached the edge and peered down the steep, muddy embankment. To his disappointment, the hole was relatively empty. It was just a big ditch with not a single space rock in sight.
Stan turned to walk back. If he was quick maybe his lasagne would've cooled down to just the right temperature and this late-night stroll wouldn't have been too much of a waste.
Stan had only taken a few steps away from the crater when a sound from further into the woods caught his attention. At first, it was the distant echoes of rustling leaves but what piqued his interest was what sounded like crying.
Well, crying was probably the wrong word. The sound was akin to that of a cat’s wail but it echoed louder than any cave he had ever been in. Although even Stan knew better than to approach possibly dangerous animals in the dead of night, something about the noise, some quality it possessed allowed his curiosity to ride the lasting wave of adrenaline he felt.
Careful not to step on anything that could alert his presence to whatever was lurking in the woods, Stan crept towards the source of the noise. He pulled back a few branches that were in the way and stepped into something of a small clearing. Glancing around, his eyes settled on a silhouette slumped against the ground a few metres away. As he approached, the form cleared into what appeared to be a small child huddled in the grass.
Certain that this was where the noise was coming from, Stan bent down to get a closer look. The child was alive, but if its shivering body and loud whining were anything to go off, it certainly wasn't having a very good time.
Unsure of what to do, Stan glanced around the empty clearing.
He couldn't just leave them here.
“Hello,” He tried, “Do you know where your parents are?”
The child didn't respond aside from flinching at Stan’s voice and curling into themself.
Well, clearly he wasn't going to make any progress out here. Maybe if he could calm them down enough to ask them a few questions, he could figure out what to do next.
Stan reached out a tentative hand to make sure his touch wouldn’t cause the child any more distress. When the child didn't move away, Stan proceeded to lift them into his arms.
✧✧✧
Once they were back at the apartment, Stan set the child down on the counter. They had stopped crying at some point on the walk back and were now just silently observing their surroundings.
In the off-white kitchen light, Stan could finally see them more clearly. Well, kind of. The truth was he felt like he should be able to see them but for the life of him, he could not distinguish a single feature on their face. His eyes must have been playing tricks on him because every time he got close to deciphering what he was seeing, he'd find himself looking at too many eyes or teeth too sharp or a nose in the wrong place. Shrugging it off as either hunger or lack of sleep, he decided to move into the next task; getting them warm.
“Don’t you move a muscle.” Stan smiled at the child before turning to the kitchen door, “I'll be right back.”
A minute or two later, he returned to the kitchen with a soft blanket under one arm and his trusty kettle in the other. He handed the blanket to the child but when they just held and stared at it, he realised that they were going to need a little more help.
After he had placed the kettle on the stove he took the blanket out of their hands and unfolded it before wrapping it around them. The child seemed a little startled at first but after feeling the almost immediate change in temperature, they quickly relaxed.
Stan turned back to the kettle and moved it over to the sink to fill it up. He then placed it back on the stove and clicked on the flame.
When he turned back to the child, he noticed that they were intently watching him.
“You feeling any better?” Stan asked, leaning on the counter.
In response, the child blinked at him, pulling the blanket tighter around themself.
“That’s good. ” Stan nodded, hoping he wasn’t assuming what their gesture had meant incorrectly, “What was a young’n such as yourself doing out there in the cold all alone?”
The two sat in silence for a while, the child still watching San’s every move until the kettle’s loud whistle broke their concentration.
“Ah,” Stan said, unfolding his arms, “Water’s done.”
From the cupboard, he produced two mugs. Saving the unchipped one for the child, he poured out the boiled water before topping them off with some cold water to keep the temperature manageable.
Stan handed the mug to the child before picking up his own and taking a few sips. Looking at them, he realized the child wasn't drinking from their mug.
Perhaps they’ve only ever had cold water before.
“Have a sip. I swear on my life it will make you feel better.” Stan demonstrated, making a show of moving the mug to his lips, “Like this, see?”
The child stared at him for a moment longer before looking down at their drink. Slowly but surely, they lifted it and took a sip.
“There you go!” Stan smiled, “Now wasn't that just great?”
The child blinked at him again.
“Not much of a talker huh?” he placed his mug on the counter, “Speaking of talking I should probably call the police so we can find your parents.”
Stan pulled out his phone, hoping that the police wouldn't be able to link the call to one of the various crimes he had unwillingly committed in the past. For a few moments, the only noise in the room was the dialling of his cell phone.
“This is the non-emergency Los Santos police line. How may I help you?” A woman's voice said.
“Hello, Hi uh yeah I think I may have found a missing child.” Stan said, stumbling over his words, “I was walking in the woods and I just found them there out in the cold.”
“Could you tell me their name please, sir?”
“Uh,” Stan turned to face the child who was staring at him as usual, “Hold on let me ask.”
“What's your name?” Stan asked the child but was met with silence.
“Uh, they won't um talk to me.” Stan put the phone back up to his ear.
“Could you describe their appearance for me?”
“Well, they uhh…” Stan looked at the child again; describing things had never really been his forte, “They have arms and legs and uh, two eyes, as every healthy, growing child should.”
“Sir, could you be more specific?” The woman began to sound annoyed.
Stan took a moment to concentrate on what the child looked like, contemplating how he should respond. Honestly, he had no clue. It wasn't just his regular incompetence at tasks like this either. The child just looked like a child and that's all he could really say.
“No.” He decided, finally.
“I-” sighed the woman, sounding tired. “Sir are you aware it is illegal to make prank calls, especially to the police.”
“What, no. I'm not-” Stan scowled a little.
“Good night, sir.”
And with that, the woman hung up.
Stan stood for a moment, staring at his phone.
Ok, so the police were no help. He’d have to try again later. Perhaps he'd even take them to a station. But for now, he had a child to take care of.
“Well, I guess that means you're stuck with me for the time being.” Stan sighed, putting his phone back in his pocket.
The child responded differently this time, letting out a big yawn.
“You’re right.” Stan nodded, taking the now empty mug off of the child and moving it to the sink. “It is very late. Let's get you to bed.”
He walked over to where the child was sitting on the counter and leaned down to pick them up. They clung tightly to his side as he carried them to the bedroom.
Jimmy’s apartment only had one bedroom but Stan would be damned if he made the child sleep on the sofa.
The bed was a small double shoved into the corner of the room with off-white plain bedsheets. Stan laid the child down in the middle and pulled the thick duvet over them.
“There we are, all nice and snug.” Stan backed out of the room to stand in the doorway, “Goodnight.”
He flicked the switch off and shut the door.