Chapter Text
Lars had always loved her. Lars was dead. Lars had a tattoo of Bender with the secret to time travel hidden within it on his ass. Lars was… Fry.
Leela only had a few minutes to process everything before her wrist device vibrated and a notification from Squizzles the Clown and Partners Law Firm popped up. Lars, it turned out, had taken out a life insurance policy the day after their aborted wedding. The insurance was enough to cover funeral and burial expenses with a caveat: the policy expired exactly 12 hours after his death.
The next few hours had felt like a blur as she located a 24 hour emergency funeral director, picked out a burial spot and a casket, and found appropriate funeral clothes from a thrift store. Considering Lars and Leela’s whirlwind romance, the rush to organize his funeral seemed almost fitting.
When Lars had asked her to marry him just over a week ago, Leela had pictured herself starting off the new year sharing a kiss with Lars at midnight and waking up in her new husband’s arms well in the afternoon, nursing a hangover from the festivities the night before. Instead, she found herself standing in the Orbiting Meadows Cemetery, watching Lars’ casket being lowered into the ground.
The funeral director hit a hidden button on the gravestone and the grave instantly filled up with dirt, a layer of grass rolling out across the fresh soil.
That was that. She could go now. There was no trace of Lars alive in the universe.
“So… are you headed straight home?”
Such a simple question, but it made Leela’s heart jump out of her chest. She turned behind her. Orange cowlick, bright sympathetic eyes, boyish innocence. Right. Of course it’s him.
“Well, uh…” She blinked her eye a couple times and tried to remember if she had any plans going forward. “I actually don’t know. They can’t rebuild my apartment until they locate the rest of those missing pandas.”
“If you haven’t figured it out yet, I can try to help. I don’t really know of any places you could get for yourself, but, um…” Fry smiled sheepishly. “We could vacuum our couch.” He couldn’t tell Leela’s answer from her surprised reaction alone, so he clarified, “I could even sleep there and you get the bed! I fall asleep on the couch on accident so much, I could do it on purpose. Or if you want Bender’s room, I could call one of those sororities and–”
He stopped talking the second he felt Leela’s hand on his arm.
“That’d be nice,” she said. “Hopefully it won’t take too long to scout around for those cubs.”
He took her hands. “Take as much time as you need. I’ll give it to you.”
Everything about Fry’s approach was so warm right now. Protective, even. Was he always like this, or was this just how he approached every widow? Did she just not recognize this kind of comfort before until she got it from someone else?
Regardless, Leela wanted to show her appreciation, so she surprised him with a hug. “Thank you, Fry,” she said, hoping she didn’t get any tears or snot on his jacket.
His arms wrapped around her as well, and he patted her back twice. It was almost scarily familiar. Her anxieties were melting just like they did when he hugged her this way. Leela almost felt stupid for not noticing it before. Who else ever held her this tight?
“I can’t believe I didn’t see it before,” she admitted, buried in his neck.
Then she felt it loosen.
“See what before?” Fry asked.
“You and Lars.” She parted from the embrace, but held onto Fry by his hands. “You’re so sweet. I should’ve known you were the same.”
Fry wasn’t smiling anymore, and his body seemed much more tense. “Leela, can I axe you something?”
“Sure…?”
“You see me as… me , right?”
Leela dropped his hands. “What does that even mean?” It came out more accusatory than she intended.
“I know Lars is supposed to be me. Some other me, at least.” He hesitated to look her in the eye. “But I don’t know if I feel like him?”
“It doesn’t matter how you feel, does it?” She wasn’t being rhetorical; she wasn’t certain of this whole thing either. “You were the same person at some point. You just split into two different lives.”
“That’s the thing.” Fry began to rant, staring at the ground. “He’s done so many things I never did. Things I can’t remember, and not in the way I usually don’t remember things I do. All I know is that we both loved you, and that you loved him…” He made eye contact with Leela, but it looked like it pained him to do so. “If you love anything about me, can you just promise that it’s because of what I do, and not what Lars did?”
Leela’s instinct was to say Of course, but the words couldn’t leave her mouth. There was so much she loved about Fry – his adventurous spirit, his boyish charm, his earnest dedication to making her happy. But so often he’d pull some childish stunt that would make it hard to weigh all that against his immaturity.
She thought she had successfully given up on Fry when Lars rolled into her life and swept her off her feet. Leela figured she had been through enough heartbreak to recognize when someone was full of shit, but everything about Lars felt so real. So natural. She’d assumed maybe the two years she’d spent on-and-off with Fry made her more receptive to someone who was mature, witty, and protective – a welcome change of pace. But what really shook her was how quickly she stopped trying to be rational and just let things happen.
Now she knew that Lars wasn’t real. Not entirely, at least. But she wouldn’t feel this hurt if everything he did was just part of some elaborate play, right? And could she really go back to normal with Fry knowing he had the potential to be so much more mature? Or maybe he already was , and she just couldn’t see it. She knew Fry wanted to be more mature, or at least be seen as such… but he wouldn’t believe that he truly was unless she forgot everything she felt in the past couple of months.
“Well?”
Fry probably didn’t mean it, but with just that word, he put a lot of pressure on her that she just didn’t want to bear right now.
“I’m sorry.” She started to walk off. “I need to think about this.”
“Do you still want to come to our place for the night?” he asked. “I mean, to sleep?”
Leela looked back at Fry. She really wished she could give him a straight answer. But even now, his sad little eyes brought back too many tough memories.
“I’ll figure it out on my own,“ she murmured. “I just need a little space right now.”
She kept walking and didn’t look back again.
If it made things easier, maybe Leela could forget everything she felt in the past couple of months after all. She just needed time to practice.
Going back to work was a mixed bag. On the one hand, the giant gaping hole in the universe meant a ton of rerouting in space, and despite mass closures among the panic, Planet Express was considered an essential service to everybody too scared to leave their homes. Leela actually didn’t mind this part. The life-threatening nature of her work was a more familiar kind of distress than whatever the hell had just happened in her personal life.
On the other hand, she did not look forward to seeing Fry every day. Every night, she’d prepare herself to respond to him without lowering her guard. She knew what to say if he asked a stupid question, and knew how to change subjects if he brought up something less stupid. But most of the time, this turned out to be a moot point. Fry would chat away with the others, mostly Bender, but all Leela would get was a quick “hi” or a clarification about work. It should’ve made things easier to barely talk to him, but knowing he was there and specifically avoiding her just added more tension to the atmosphere.
Sometimes, she’d only see him around the building for half the day, with no context as to where he’d gone. When he was just late, Leela could assume he overslept or got lost or had some other typical mishap, but eventually he started leaving work earlier too. Some days he wouldn’t come in at all. This threw her off even more than knowing he was here avoiding her. Without Fry livening up the place, Leela felt like she was sleepwalking through work. Maybe compensating for Fry’s absence left her more exhausted than usual, or maybe her thoughts were weighing her down.
Things didn’t start to become clear until late in the month.
“Good, everyone,” the professor announced to the conference room. “Unfortunately, I can’t tack a ‘news’ onto that statement, since I have no news to offer. My attempts to research the anomaly haven’t borne any fruit, no matter how many angles I’ve tried.”
The crew was well aware of this, as they’d spent weeks dodging obnoxious scale models and partially contained radiation, a few of which surrounded them at this very moment.
“Can’t you move some of these back to the lab?” Hermes implored. “The uranium sample in the kitchen mutated my manwich! It was biting me back!”
“It was a food and a game all in one!” Zoidberg said blissfully, earning an accusatory glare from Hermes.
“Every nook and cranny of my lab is already in use,” the professor explained, hands folded. “I’ve constructed seventy-three models of the anomaly based on various theories about its composition. I haven’t reached the point in my scientific progress where I destroy them all in a fit of frustration, but we should reach that point by at least Thursday.” Ding went the microwave. The professor hobbled off, then hobbled back a minute later with a new model universe made of steaming hot water. “Make that seventy-four.”
He placed the model on the empty chair at the conference table, the one Leela had been trying not to notice.
“Hey, isn’t there usually a guy where that little water fountain sits?” Zoidberg asked, pointing a claw in the direction of the empty chair.
Damn Zoidberg pointing out the elephant in the room. Well, not to be confused with the small irradiated elephant the professor enlisted as part of his thirty-third model.
“Zoidberg’s onto something,” Leela said, causing the decapodian’s eyes to glimmer with delight. “We’re already overbooked, and short-staffed because of certain people cutting work all the time. The least we could have is a bit more mobility.”
“Well, you know where you don’t have to worry about the way my building looks?” The professor pointed a bony finger at the ship. “Up in space, flying the ship like you were chipped to do! Now come on, those anti-anomaly quack cures won’t deliver themselves.”
Leela would have protested the choice in cargo, but she was distracted. The trickling water on the seat next to her had been wreaking Pavlovian havoc on her bladder for the past few minutes. “I’ll board in five. Bender, start hauling.”
Bender groaned as he trudged over to the ship, stopping briefly to light a cigar on a Bunsen burner. “Stupid Fry runs around all night, and I have to pick up his slack before I make Leela pick up the rest of it? Not fair.”
Runs around all night? Leela wanted to question that, but not right now. She darted to the bathroom, only to find it blocked off by a large force field and an “out of order” sign. It looked like one of Farnsworth’s recent models required the filthy moisture of the bathroom for whatever reason. Son of a bitch.
She probably wouldn’t make it to the ship, much less go upstairs. If she didn’t go now, she was going to burst. What was the closest, but least embarrassing place to serve as a pseudo-bathroom in the building?
Her eye landed on the supply closet. Okay, sure . When in Rome, piss in a bucket.
Once she got close to the door, though, she heard a voice on the other side.
“Awesome, I’ll see you at eight then. Love you.”
Again, her heart skipped before she even registered who it was. That happened now whenever she heard him before seeing his face.
Leela opened the supply closet to see Fry squished into a corner. He jolted like he’d seen a ghost.
“Leela?”
“Fry?” For a second, she forgot why she was even at the closet. “I haven’t seen you all day. Where have you been?”
“I woke up late.” He snapped his cellphone-telephone shut. “By the time I got here, it was too late to explain myself, so I figured I’d just hide out in here ‘til the shift was up–”
“Who were you calling?” She jumped onto the end of his sentence.
Fry’s eyes went suspiciously wide. “Oh, just, just a restaurant. I’m going out tonight.” He avoided her gaze. “It’s, it’s nothing.”
It definitely was not, but Leela had better things to deal with (namely, the pressure on her bladder) than grill Fry on things she probably didn’t want to hear.
She grabbed Fry by the jacket collar and threw him out, then shut the door behind her and did what she had to do in Scruffy’s bucket. On the other side of the door, she heard Fry’s voice again.
“Hey honey, I just got our reservation. It might be kind of awkward, cuz I think I told Elzar I love him by accident… Aw, good. I love you too.”
Sometimes Leela hated being right.
“Washbucket full.”
After three weeks, they’d relocated most of the pandas that had escaped what was once Leela’s apartment. However, attempts to rebuild the place had slowed as a few had taken to hiding in the scaffolding. Those poor bears had been through a lot, too, so Leela was okay with waiting. During that time, she’d been sleeping over at her parents’ house. It wasn’t ideal (she was feeling sicker from the smell by the second), but it was only for the nights. She just liked knowing she could stay near the few people left whom she trusted.
Her parents were relaxed on the couch with cracked teacups and uncrumpled magazines, which they put down the second they saw their daughter.
“Oh, hey, Leela’s home!” Morris announced as she walked through the door.
Leela relaxed, feeling a welcome change from her hectic workplace.
“Are you hungry, honey?” Munda asked. “We have a ton of holiday leftovers.”
“That’s fine, Mom.” For obvious reasons, Leela usually tried to eat before coming to the sewers, but tonight, she’d barely had the appetite to finish it. “I think I’m just gonna go to bed soon.”
“This early?” Morris asked. “Is it even dark yet?”
“I just had a big work day. Lots of deliveries to panicky recluses. I need the rest.”
They both looked concerned, but knew by now not to push for details. She’d cried on their couch for hours the day of the funeral, but made it clear she wouldn’t make that a regular event.
“Alright, we’ll check in on you before we turn in,” her mom said. “Sleep well, sweetie.”
She smiled on her way out. “I will.”
Of course she didn’t. She hadn’t slept well most of the time she’d stayed here. She didn’t have the mojo to get off the twin-sized patchwork sheets and actually do anything, but she couldn’t manage to keep her eye closed either.
Leela’s grieving routine had some things in common with the post-breakup routine she had down pat. It most often entailed lying back and indulging in uplifting animal stories and comfort food (or the closest thing she could get to comfort food under the surface). Usually by now she’d have also gone absolutely hog-wild on multiple punching bags, but she didn’t have the same urge these past few weeks. After the wedding, yes, she felt it more than any heartbreak she’d ever endured, but not after his death. Instead she felt sort of… deflated.
But she was out of cheap ice cream, and had read Crime-Solving Zebras cover-to-cover, so there wasn’t much left to do. Curling up alone in her bed, without even Nibbler to pet, she could feel the emotions she’d repressed all day start to bubble up to the surface, rumbling in her stomach and tightening up her chest. She sat up, knowing this was not going to help.
So she opened up her laptop to check her socials. It also definitely wasn’t going to help, but it would dry her eye out until she physically couldn’t keep it open anymore.
She scrolled aimlessly down her feed. Zoidberg’s off-key covers of old Kander and Ebb numbers. Bender’s all-caps, vaguely homoerotic rant about recent All My Circuits plot points. Amy posting some absolutely adooooorable selfie while having a picnic in the park – Leela was positive it was 70% filters, and Amy had probably deepfaked the people in the background to be cuter too, because why the hell would Taylor Swift’s reanimated body just hang around by the river?
Leela mindlessly skimmed the comments (mostly compliments, pornbots, and compliments from pornbots), but one near the bottom really woke her up.
@Fryceratopss: You’re photo looks greet!! Might take my girlfrend later this week!! :D <3
And then a bowling pin emoji he added by accident, presumably.
Leela felt her brain stir faster and faster. First off, how do you type “you’re” instead of “your”? It literally takes more effort to be wrong.
Second, girlfriend? Just a few weeks ago, Fry had whimpered over Leela like a sad little dog. He’d gone back in time out of sheer jealousy and spent years pining for her, crafted an entirely new identity, somehow got her to fall in love with him, only to break her heart and blow it up for good measure… all that, and he was already :D <3’ing for someone else? This had to be the recipient of that second phone call, right?
Against her better judgment, Leela did what she’d tried not to do for the past few weeks: she checked Fry’s account. Lots of incoherent thoughts, lots of memes… and a few pictures. A blonde girl with two relaxed eyes, enjoying wine at Elzar's. Posted: half an hour ago. The same girl kissing a grinning Fry on the cheek beneath a cracked orange sky. Posted: two weeks ago.
Leela shut her laptop and tossed it to the floor. Her stomach was in knots now. Not that Fry and his little girlfriend had that power over her – she just hadn’t eaten enough today. And the rank stench down here would make anybody gag if they didn’t grow up in it. That’s why her eye was welling up too. Not because of Fry.
A knock at the wall surprised her. “Leela? Honey?” Both her parents stood at the door; her dad was speaking. “We heard something hit the floor. Are you alright?”
Leela wiped her eye and sat up straight. “I’m fi–” She choked down whatever was coming up. “I’m fine. Uh, quick question. Hypothetically. Where would I go if I needed to, uh…” She gagged again. “To–”
“Just throw up in our toilet, dear.” Munda answered nonchalantly. “Let the submutants deal with it.”
“ThankyouloveyouI’llberightback.” Leela leaped up and scrambled out of her room, her parents watching with confusion.