Work Text:
Soft and discordant music filled a dark room, a lone figure lay curled in a chair far too large close by. Wally Darling, a once beloved puppet for a show called ‘Welcome Home’, was our lone figure. The music barely able to soothe his decaying mind.
Day by day Wally’s memories seemed to distort and fade more and more, especially as he tried so desperately to cling to them. Such fickle things they were, memories. They brought up feelings that made Wally cry for hours, that made him long for a past he could hardly recall. He called them his greatest treasures, for even allowing him to remember his friends from so long ago; Yet they gave a pain so immense that it left the poor soul incapacitated for hours on end.
Grief, it was called. A deep gut wrenching pain that made him shake and cry for hours. A feeling Wally had never even imagined before losing everything, after all how could one imagine it without feeling it?
The discordant music skipped and came to a halt, the record unable to play further. The silence that soon descended upon the room was heavy, forcing our lone figure to wake up with a soft gasp for breath.
Wally uncurled from his position, blue hair falling into his vision as he looked around. How long had he been laying there? Where had the music gone? Oh who knew anymore, it could have been minutes or even days for all Wally knew. What does time matter when there is no one to share it with?
A soft sigh fell from Wally’s lips as he slowly stood up from the chair, his shoulders sagging from the heavy weight of his empty heart. He walked over to the phonograph, lifting the tone arm and moving it away from the record. Wally pulled the record up and held it in his hands so gently, looking at the scratched and warped surface. Another record he would have to put away permanently, he really should take better care of them to make them last. But he never did, he would rather listen to the same record for hours on repeat than try and meticulously keep them in check.
So he slid the record into its case and tucked it away on the shelf with the rest, pulling down the next record to begin playing it until its own inevitable end. As Wally slid the record out of its case, a note fell out and floated to the floor. Surprise crossed Wally’s face for the first time in so long as he stared at the note. It was pristine, somehow it had been kept safe within the record case for who knows how many years.
Surprise turned to confusion, how did a note even get in the record casing to begin with? Had he put it there? A final thought crossed Wally’s mind as he set the record in its place on the phonograph.
Was it from before that final day?
Once his hands were free, Wally knelt down to the ground and hesitantly picked up the piece of paper. From there he turned it over with such care, as if it would crumble away in his fingers were he not careful. Writing came into view as he righted the paper, writing that Wally knew wasn't his own.
Moments ticked by, counted by loud thumping heartbeats in his ears. The note was from before, before he lost everything.
Tears came to Wally’s eyes as he held the note, curling into himself and re-reading the note over and over again. It truly was from before, a single piece of the past he had never found until it was far too late.
An hour passed by before Wally stood up slowly, moving to the phonograph and putting the tonearm into place. He turned the phonograph on and slumped into the too large chair, hearing a familiar voice come out. An old friend, a laughter he longed to hear for so long. It brought a smile to Wally’s teary face as he tried to recall who it belonged to.
A form slowly came to mind, large and.. Blue. He, maybe? Yes, He. He was large and blue, with spots and stripes on his chest. No, not on his chest. Across it, on clothing. Wally's smile grew as he remembered bits and pieces of his lost friend, though it was hard with an addled mind. He kept getting things wrong (Like how he almost thought his lost friend was pink! But he wasn’t pink at all.) but eventually he would settle on what felt the most correct.
His lost friend with a deep belly laugh that was so large compared to Wally, sky blue and covered with spots, he even had heart shapes on his hands- ones that matched Wally's own on his shoes.
But Wally couldn’t remember his name. That was odd to Wally, everything else came almost easily once he could think of it. So why couldn’t he remember something that should be so simple? This was his friend! His large, blue, spotted friend!
Wally took in a quick breath, his head snapping towards the phonograph as music began to play instead of his lost friend’s voice. An instrumental song played out slowly, keeping Wally’s attention on the phonograph. This record was so familiar, his friend’s voice and now this song. How had he not touched this record before now? Why had he waited so long to play the record when it could have helped him to remember his friends longer?
That realization caused pain to bloom in Wally’s chest, his eyes tearing away from the record to stare at the floor instead.
The gentle music did not bring any old memories back, but with time it did start to soothe him with its familiarity. The music helped him to calm him, leaving him confused but relaxed.
A soft breath fell from Wally’s lips as the next song began to play, another familiar one. One that Wally was actually able to hum along too, his body slowly swaying side to side in the chair. A name caught his attention as the song played, a name he knew more than anything.
“Barnaby,”
Wally’s voice was scratchy from severe disuse, a warm feeling spreading out from his chest as he realized just who’s name that was. His friend! His lost friend! Barnaby!
Wally jumped up from the chair and hugged himself tightly, spinning in place as he clung to the name and the small bits he had remembered earlier. His large blue and spotted friend named Barnaby, the friend with hearts on his hands and a laugh like gold. The memory of a smiling Barnaby came to Wally’s mindseye and he felt such a warm feeling bloom in his chest. Fondness and love cropping up with the happiness of remembering his lost friend.
Faded memories of things they used to do came into Wally’s thoughts, one activity stuck out in his mind like a shining star.
Dancing. Oh how they used to dance together for hours to this record, getting lost in the music and each other.
Wally slowed his movements to a gentle sway, as if he was dancing with a partner. It was sweet and made Wally feel as if he was normal for the first time in so very long.
He imagined himself to be dancing with Barnaby like they used to, a spotlight overhead courtesy of Home and their record playing in the background. They would look into each other's eyes, sharing such intimate moments together with no one else around. Imagining themselves to be the sole occupants of the neighborhood for just a little while, no longer having to sneak kisses to keep their relationship a secret from their friends. They were just Wally and Barnaby, Barnaby and Wally. Nothing to separate them.
Soon as the record came to its end, Wally began to cry while he tried desperately to keep Barney’s image in his mind- Large, blue, and spotted. Large, blue, and spotted. However, keeping the information just wasn’t possible in his addled mind, years of isolation caused it to rot away essentially. It hurt, knowing that he was going to forget Barn all over again.
Large, blue, striped. No wait, no no. not yet please.
Wally slowly sank to the floor, holding himself tightly as the silence filled his mind.
Bee was large, blue, and striped. Large black stripes.
Minutes ticked by in silence, counted by tears that began to slow. The memories disappear once more as Wally knelt there on the floor, forgetting why he was even crying in the first place. Slowly Wally stood up, taking the record out of the phonograph and sliding it into its case with the ‘unknown’ paper. He then slid the record onto the shelf with the few good records he still had, putting it towards the end.
Blank eyes swept over the others, grabbing one at random and pulling it out to combat the silence. He settled back down into the large chair and curled up, his eyes slowly closing as the discordant music began to play.
Another record that will have to be taken off the ‘good’ shelf, Wally supposed.
What a shame..
The note unshared:
“To Applesauce,
Don’t forget to listen to our record! I’ll keep an ear out just to listen with you, neighbor!
Yours,
Barnarb”