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For many years, the Inbetween served as Connor's solace from the outside world.
Its calmness in pearlescent white columns and walls was a welcome change of scenery from DreamXD's harsh words of criticism that tended to sting Connor like he'd been hit, that left lingering feelings of guilt on his mind.
Connor's tail swishes as he places a hand on one of the tall white columns.
It's been a long time since he was last here. After he left for SMPLive, he hadn't needed this safe place as much anymore, if at all.
Coming back here honestly makes Connor a bit uneasy. It feels almost like he's intruding on a place he's not supposed to be in anymore.
Like stepping into an old childhood bedroom with the wrong scent and feeling it permeate through your skin. A place you've forgotten how to belong to.
While Connor was the one who found refuge here for so long, he isn't the same Connor he was then. And this place doesn't belong to the person he is now.
He continues to walk down the cold hallway. A complete silence hangs in the air, only broken by the sound of his footsteps as he walks across the marble floor.
This place hasn't changed much, either, still looking just as clean, pristine, beautiful as he remembers it being as a child.
Once he reaches the end of the hallway, he notices a small figure peeking out from behind one of the columns that looks uncannily familiar, and he freezes.
"Why did you come back here?" The figure asks, slowly stepping out from its hiding place.
Connor doesn't know if he's hallucinating or what, but the splitting image of himself as a young teenager stands before him, studying him carefully.
The teen's long hair is tied back – probably in an attempt to make it less noticeable, and he looks scared, Connor notes. It checks out, he thinks.
"You look good," the boy says, circling Connor, his scared gaze giving way to one of curiosity. "If I didn't know better, I think I'd have no way of knowing."
"Knowing w–" Connor's voice trails off as he puts two and two together. "Hey! I'm not in the mood to get clocked by me circa age thirteen."
"Excuse you! I'm fourteen, I'll have you know." Young Connor crosses his arms over his chest and looks offended.
Connor rolls his eyes. "Why are you... No, how are you talking to me? You're me. Did I cause some kind of time paradox or something?"
"Time paradox?" Young Connor repeats. He frowns. "Nah, it's nothing like that. Don't be a dumbass, I'm here because of closure."
"Closure...?" Connor tilts his head, ear twitching.
"You've come a long way since well, you were me, you know." The teenager laughs. "Because you ran away! You ran away from your problems to start over again."
"I didn't run away." Connor's tone suddenly gets serious. "I couldn't stay here any longer."
"Because of XD, yeah, yeah, I know!" Young Connor waves his hands dismissively.
"You're awfully carefree for your circumstance."
"Well, I'm not literally you at age fourteen, you know. I'm part of your subconscious. The doubts that still linger in the deepest parts of your mind." The teenager hums. "Maybe you don't remember, but this place knows exactly who you need to talk to, and right now? It's me."
Connor raises an eyebrow.
"In the back of your mind," Young Connor drops the teasing edge, and his voice goes deadpan, "you still worry you were wrong. Maybe XD was right all along about you."
"It doesn't matter if I was right or wrong, anyways. This is who I am now, and who I have been for almost twenty years." Connor mumbles, fidgeting where he stands.
"What do you even want from me, anyways?" He asks, looking down. "Trying to get me to change my mind about my identity all these years later because of some seed of internalized guilt that damn freak of a god planted inside us?"
The teenager's eyes widen, and he looks a bit guilty. "No, of course not. You're happy now. I would give anything to be you."
"You are me," Connor says quietly. "Or, you will be. I'm sorry if you felt I cast you aside. That isn't the case. We're one in the same, we always will be, even if you don't want to accept it."
"XD gave us our life," Young Connor mumbles. "He made us like this for a reason, surely."
"But it's okay to change," Connor tells his younger self. "You can choose who you want to be."
Young Connor nods, eyes distant.
"I think we made the right choice." He says, looking away. "It just feels wrong to say something like that. To go against our creator in such a way."
"We don't have to give him this power over us, though." Connor says, and he nods as if he's hearing the idea for the first time himself. "I don't have to give you this power over me. It's my life."
When he looks back, the teenaged version of himself is gone.
He blinks a few times before sighing, and he pulls a ring from his pocket to open a portal back to the overworld again, leaving this place for the final time.
He was right – he doesn't need this space anymore. He's grown past it. And he's glad he has.