Chapter Text
PROLOGUE
WARNING: I don't hesitate with this prologue to hit you with depression...
“Dude!? Harl? Do you read? This is Wheelie!”
Through the small window, Tippy looked at Harl clicking on the control panel. His back was to Tippy, as he typed in thousands of combinations. If only Harl would turn around and listen to him. Paradoors was a place of happiness. Why was the handyman so adamant of preventing everyone from even seeing the new world?
As much as he would love a world of infinite powers, and doors, he would be reasonable. If people weren’t happy, he would reconsider. But that wouldn’t even be possible in paradise as Paradoors. It was prophesied that anyone who would lay their eyes on a perfectly ordered world would feel at peace. With a quintessential ruler to take the burden of responsibility, the townsfolk could relax and focus on their passions. Even if that prophecy was true, Harl’s stubbornness prevented any of them from trying it out.
The radio must’ve been loud in the pilot room, because even Tippy could hear it through the closed door, and through the rushing of the atmosphere around their space shuttle.
“Yes, I can hear you, Wheelie.” Harl said loudly, clearly stressed.
They had no radio access in space, but now that they were entering Earth's atmosphere, it was likely their radio connected to their city’s signal.
“Harl, you’ve gotta stop your shuttle!”
“I’m trying!” Harl said in annoyance.
Time was running out. Couldn’t Harl see that? Why wouldn’t he give him a shot?
Clearly Harl wanted them to be enemies… Why was his emotions getting in the way? The handyman thwarted his plans from the get-go as a secret passenger in the space shuttle. He made his intentions clear when he said it would be helpful to the city by stopping him. First annoyed by his unwanted appearance, he’d grown to enjoy the social interaction of Harl. Perhaps if Harl wasn’t his stowaway, this trip back to Earth would’ve been in excruciating isolation. Only someone like Harl could listen to him ramble on and on. Tippy was tired of the empty conversations he had with the tennants at the apartment he worked at. His sole purpose was to open the door, perhaps utter a few words, and let them pass. People were supposed to treat doormen as debonair, intelligent people, at the highest point of society. Striking a conversation with him should not feel like a quick social necessity, but rather a privilege.
Harl always listened to his door lore, and added little input. Strange, considering he was trying to stop his plans. But Harl’s attentive listening was something he’d yearned for a while. He hoped Harl’s observance was because he was starting to waiver Harl’s beliefs.
As much as he wanted to hate Harl, he couldn’t help but fall in love with the man. All this time, he should’ve seen him as a distraction; a red herring to his goals. He even took it so far, Tippy declared his feelings for Harl about halfway through their journey. And what did he do? He was silent! Harl didn’t confirm, or deny he had feelings for him. When it came time for him to turn his ear to words, he couldn’t even talk to him. Harl kept leading him on and on then shutting him down before he got too close. Perhaps his silence when he declared his feelings, and talked about doors was because he was too afraid to talk against him… Maybe all that time he was staring in confusion, like how most people did when he shared his wide door knowledge. This handyman wasn’t an active listener, he was an overwhelmed thinker. Last thing Tippy needed was a critique on his plans, yet the silence led him to assume the worst. Harl probably thought he was insane.
Tippy hit the door he was trapped behind; he never hit a door before. “Harl! Please just listen to me for once!”
Unexpectedly, Harl stood up from his seat and whipped around. His nostrils were flared, and his eyes dilated. His demeanor was far from the Happy Helpful Harl Hubbs he knew. He prepared himself for the critique he’d been afraid of.
“I’ve been listening to you, Tippy. I have been listening for an entire month! You go on and on about trapping us in some door dimension, but don’t you see what harm that’ll bring? I want nothing to do with someone who wants to become a tyrant.”
All he could do was physically recoil at his words. Never, never had Harl snapped at him, or anyone. The handy man took a step against the increasing force using his gravity connector boots.
“And what’s worse-“ He came closer. “You have always been about manipulation, and games. I see through it all.”
Harl strained coming closer to Tippy. “I’m not as naive as you think.” Another step. “You only say you love me to get me on your side.”
He was speechless. That’s not how it was. What better way than to show someone your love than to bring them to a world of infinite joy? He was willing to share, learn, and compromise with Harl to create the perfect world.
“Please… Please Harl. Your happiness exceeds all. Just tell me what you want. Gold? Respect? Love? Anything, and I’ll give it to you.”
Harl must’ve heard the sincerity in his voice, and lowered his tone. “Tell me the code. That’s what I want.”
The disbelief mixed with the force pulling at his skin locked his joints, nearly bringing him to his knees. “I would rather die, than not get the chance for us to reach paradise.” Tippy heaved.
Without another word, Harl went back to the control panel, emotionless. Harl was the one claiming he was the manipulator, but he had it twisted. He made Tippy fall for him, when the only thing on his mind was to stop him.
No . He couldn’t think so little of Harl. Maybe the only thing on Harl’s mind was to prevent Tippy from winning, but it was his own fault for falling for him. But still, even through rejection of this magnitude, he wanted Harl. Maybe he was the one more out of reach than Paradoors.
Harl slammed all his hands on the panel in frustration.
Tippy loosend, and stood up straight. “Harl-“
Harl tried another password, ignoring Tippy.
“I'LL TELL YOU THE CODE!” Tippy shouted, desperately.
“I thought you said you’d rather die.” Harl said plainly.
Resting his hands on the window, he let out a sigh. The words quivered with the rattling of the shuttle. “I would not rather you die .”
“Tippy-“ he said while turning around.
“I will give up my paradise for a place on Earth with you.” The words stung as they came out. This was a sacrifice only he would ever understand. Everyone thought Paradoors was worth nothing more than a junk pile of wood and hinges. He was giving his purpose away to be with the one he loved.
“Tippy!” Harl said urgently.
If Harl didn’t have a glove on, he’d be biting his nails. “The panel is locked.”
Tippy looked past Harl’s shoulder to see the display screen in red saying: Too many failed attempts, control panel locked per safety protocols.
“I- I didn't know It could lock.” Tippy stammered.
Radio static chimed in, next came Wheelie’s voice. “What’s your update, Harl? This situation is getting real dangerous. If you don’t stop your shuttle you’re gonna hit a pile of dynamite! It’ll take everything out!”
The both of them were in disbelief as the blue earth drew nearer and nearer.
“Dude? Can you hear me?”
Harl whimpered. “Evacuate everyone.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible, man. This pile of dynamite could take out everything. There would be nowhere to evacuate to. It’s up to you to stop the shuttle.”
Harl tried to speak, but broke out into ferocious tears.
“What’s going on, Harl?” Wheelie announced.
“The control panel… It’s locked. There’s nothing I can do to stop this shuttle,” Harl started to shake. “I’m sorry I failed everyone.”
He dropped the radio, and punched the control panel. His cries became audible, even louder than the debris hitting the small shuttle. They were still too far away to see buildings, but judging by the landmass they were approaching, it was their city.
It was never meant to end like this. Whether he was sitting in Paradoors as a god, all powerful, bending joy as if it were a law of nature, or even on Earth with Harl. Either would’ve been paradise to him.
“Let me out, Harl.” He started to choke up.
The other spaceman finished his round of punching the control panel, still not looking at his direction. “It’s already over Tippy.”
“I know it is.”
After sighing, Harl turned around and came towards the door. The increasing force of coming into contact with Earth's gravity, made Tippy unable to stand up straight, and started to slide to the back of the spacecraft. He couldn’t stop it, so he fell down, and tumbled to the rear. Harl reached the door, and took off the magnetizing boots locking the door. His steps were slow as he tried not to lose balance. With the doors now opened, Harl emerged. The tears that fell from his face, traveled to the back, and lightly hit Tippy.
As he tried to reach closer to Harl, his muscles quaked, as if he were trying to wake from a sleep paralysis nightmare. If only he’d been granted with privilege to keep this in his nightmares. But all of this was real. So real, in fact, that it ironically felt like a dream. Bound to the back wall, Harl closed the space between them. He collapsed, taking Tippy down into a hug. The other man’s weight plus the force of them approaching terminal velocity nearly took his breath away, but as he drew in air to his lungs, the unsteady breaths broke into sobs.
With the increasing pressure on their space cabin, they kept grabbing each other tighter and tighter. Maybe it was because their lungs were too constricted, or maybe they accepted it, but they both stopped crying.
“I don’t want to die.” Harl whispered.
His teary eyes were rounder than the near approaching earth. He was able to see the lights of the city out the window, refracted by his own tears. He couldn’t even imagine the chaos down there; Freya running with her crew trying to find time, Gabby documenting their last moments only to leave the footage in the universe’s hands, Tread not fast enough for this final race, and his step father, his only family, left to learn how how useless his riches are.
Soon, it would all be gone.
“I love you, Harl.”
If only things could be different. He would dedicate himself to Harl, learning happiness through him.
“I love you too, Tippy.”
He was never expecting to hear that from Harl, but accepted it with a kiss on the forehead. Finally, the Fendrich and Sinclair arch was in view. An idea crept into his mind, and he took the gravity boots, and stood up. There was no time to waste.
“What are you doing?” Harl said.
The lights flickered and shut off, leaving the city lights to silhouette his lover.
“I’ll see you in paradise.”