Chapter Text
When they all stood before the gate, the last thing she said to them was “I love you”.
At the time, it had come as such a surprise that they hadn’t thought to say anything. Their mouth presumably had a setting beyond slack-jawed idiocy that they were at liberty to use at one point, but with everything else they had to wrap their head around in that moment, they had nothing to say.
It was like trading electrical shocks between tapes. Killed the concept of conflict and all of his archangels with the power of friendship? Zap .
All your friends are returning to their respective universes, never to be seen again? Zap.
Knowing this, and leaving off with a love confession? Zap.
Because right after that, she’d taken a flying leap out the gate and gone places they could never hope to follow. And god, like some lovesick, clingy asshole, they sure had tried - when their turn came, they’d filled their head with the fantasy novel she’d loved, the bands she’d listened to, the side of her face in the firelight when she couldn’t think of anything to say. The theoretical futures they’d talk about over coffee where the miracle that allowed them to meet folded time over itself and let them continue forward together -
- and for their effort, they'd awoken on a pull-out couch in a familiar-feeling bachelor apartment.
It was dark, but after spending three years there, they could still tell it was theirs - down from the lumpy mattress to the scuffed portable console changing on the floor. It was still diligently displayed the inventory menu of a game they’d long forgotten they were playing. For a long moment, they lay staring into the empty darkness of the ceiling, menu jingle half muffled under a fallen pillow, the grotty light hanging from it taking shape as their vision adjusted. Was it all a dream? Had they gotten so desperate that their mind had invented them a world where they had a proper bed and a community that respected and- daresay - appreciated their hard work?
But then the blanket above them shifted entirely on its own, and they had to stop themselves from screaming from the shock of realizing it was alive. Hesitantly, they’d reached up to touch it, and felt soft, thick fur - and a damp snout against their equally clammy palm. The blanket-that-was-in-fact-a-dog sniffed once, licked the spaces between their index and middle finger, and went back to sleep.
And it was only then, at three AM on a Monday, that Cass finally registered it was over.
Looking back on it, they had always assumed they’d be relieved to be home again. They’d fought for it for so long, hadn’t they? They'd told everyone this was what they were going to do, proven their right to change the world through strength of nonscientific monster shifting, and this was their reward for it. They could never go back to New Wirral, but that was fine - everyone was back in the place they wanted to be. Everything was how it should have been.
But the longer the wee hours of the morning wore on, the more time they had to think and sit in the dark, the more they found themselves dwelling on what they’d left behind. What they’d lost.
On 'I love you, catch you later.'
“I-It just… It sucks, yuh-y-y’know?” They blubber to Barkley around five as they sit together on the floor of their tiny kitchen, hands busy peeling a boiled egg for him. Honestly, they had just wanted to keep moping around, but manifesting a dog from the wellspring of human creativity in a spur-of-the-moment decision unfortunately didn’t make food appear in the same timely manner. “Why then?”
Barkley huffs where he’s loafed himself over their lap.
“Exactly!” They all but catapult a bit of the shell as they say this, and it flies off into the abyss where the counter meets the stove. Sharing a mind with this particular dog didn’t make his little noises any more comprehensible, but they needed to talk, and he was the closest thing to sympathetic company they had. “I mean, I knew it was coming. We th-talked about it. But… why? Why make it harder?”
In lieu of a response, he just stares. Cass sucks in a shaky breath and returns their eyes to their work. It hardly seemed like they’d been gone for any time at all - their furniture was still there, the stove still clicked a few times before it started the way it had nearly a year ago. If it weren’t for Barkley and the grimy weather-beaten 90s windbreaker they’d worn like a second skin long enough to forget they’d had it on, they…
… well, actually, no, they’d still be fucked up over it. Enough to tell a quarter of their contacts that they were sick today the minute they unearthed their phone on the off chance that one of them was still employing them. There was no sane way to explain what happened. Their only comfort was that perhaps somewhere across the multiverse, there was others out there climbing out of the ocean and sitting in the same boat.
“D’you… think t-they got home safe?” They ask through a hiccup, gouging the egg-flesh with a spoon and offering a white lump to Barkley. He sniffs it once before devouring it at the most impressive speed they’d ever seen him move. “Everyone that wanted to, I mean. There were a lot of people in Harbor Town.”
Barkley sniffs. Cass spoons him more egg from the half-peeled shell.
“Do you think any of them were from here? Viola, no, and we never had zotes, so no Felix… Maybe Eugene, but not for another fifty years. I don’t think I’d survive the revolution.” They’re rambling now. “But Kayleigh and…” They swallow. If they said her name, they had a distinct feeling they’d burst into tears again. “It… wouldn’t be daft to look them up, would it? I mean, there’s internet now.”
They’d gotten a side eye they assumed either meant ‘no more than monologuing at a dog you’re spoon-feeding’ or ‘could we finish breakfast first’. They experimentally lick a chunk of cooled and hardened yolk off their fingers and feed their companion the rest as they bring up the search engine. It was probably both.
—
Unfortunately, just looking up ‘Kayleigh’ and ‘Meredith’ online worked about as well as could be expected. Cass’s search engine skills had perhaps become a bit rustier now that their world’s population had ballooned from a few hundred to a few billion.
“I really should’ve asked for last names when I had the chance…” They groan, shutting off their phone and setting it down by their side as they lean against the back of the couch. “But I guess if the ones I know don't even exist in this universe, that’s kinda a moot point, huh.”
Barkley’s ear twitches. “Grrouf.”
“That’s what I’m saying.” They shake their head. They weren’t sure why they were so invested in the idea anyway. When they were in New Wirral, they’d ached to come back here - back to the restaurants and the convenience and the confidence that they wouldn’t be attacked by very literal monsters in the middle of the night. Back to the job and the college friends that still texted them now and then to ask how they were. But now that they'd returned…
They look at the clock. It was getting close to eight.
“...Hey, we haven’t gotten you out at all since we got here, have we?" They sit up to look at the dog in their lap. "Did you wanna go for a walk?”
At the word ‘walk’, Barkley was immediately squirming his feet, his little potato-shaped body wrangling faster than physics should have allowed for. He bounced about as they went about peeling off their adventuring clothing in favor of slightly more modern streetwear, draping the jacket over the back of their couch as they made for their apartment door.
And then it hit them, as they stood with their hand on the doorknob - they lived in the most populated city in Maine. They couldn't just take Barkley out and have him toddle behind them like normal - there were usually like... laws about this, weren't there? Dogs had to be on leash?... Hm. They look at the varsity hoodie they just put on contemplatively and pull out the drawstring. It made the hood baggier than they’d like, but sacrifices had to be made in the name of friendship.
They look down at Barkley wiggling at their heels. He was a smart dog. There had to be a way to express this in a way he'd understand.
"So, uh. Barks. " Cass kneels, cupping a palm gingerly over his tiny shoulder like they were a father intent on imparting a life lesson. "Do you know what a cop is?"
Great start. Barkley whines a bit, tilting his head. They nod. "Yeah, that's right. Okay, there's these guys in blue -- can dogs see blue? -- okay, there's these humans that, if see me walking with you, and you don't look like you're attached to me, they'll take you away to dog jail. They'll also make me pay them. We don't like it when cops do that." They hold up the drawstring for him to sniff. “So I need you to stay close and fake it with me until we can get one. Can you do that?”
“Arf!” He spins in a little circle. That didn't exactly sound like complete understanding, but he did settle long enough to allow Cass to tie the drawstring on the band of his headphones. It wasn’t near long or sturdy enough to work as a real leash, but if they held it slack, no one would be able to tell from a distance. Good enough.
The streets of Portland looked just as they remembered them, but in the way of one coming back to visit a childhood home rather than a current one. Barkley was smarter and better heeled than any dog Cass had ever seen, and most hadn’t given them a second glance as they aimlessly wandered from block to block without any real destination in mind.
“I guess we need some gear for you first, huh?” Cass muses, twirling the drawstring around their finger. Where was the pet shop again?.. wait, did their lease even allow pets on it? Moving would be such a hassle if it didn’t, and they were hardly sure if they had the money for it anyway. But maybe their landlord would see how small and polite Barkley was and make an exception. Or they could make a case about how he was technically an emotional support animal, for a wellspring of stress no one else would really understand–
when he wasn’t responsible for causing it, anyway. As they were passing by the entrance to the pier, polite, intelligent Barkley had bounded off. It was only after the weight of the headphones started knocking against their leg that they’d actually realized what happened.
“Oi!” Looping the headset around their own neck, they scanned their mind for commands one usually gave to a dog and turned up nothing. “W-wait!”
Mercifully, the reality of their experiences on New Wirral had assured they were as physically fit as the days they were running through fields and hiking up mountains. Though they never would have been able to do so before, Cass was pleasantly surprised to find they didn't so much as break a sweat as they dipped around tourists with an athlete’s grace. The rush of the waves against the rocks below was comforting in spite of the circumstances, and for an absent moment, Cass wondered if their canine companion had gotten loose because he’d heard the waves and thought they were going back.
But Barkley doesn't stop for the waves the way he did at the mountain, and keeps those little legs running. Now and then he’d pause to stoop and sniff at the ground, only to bound off again just before they could get their hands on him. It’s a game, almost - one without a stick, seemingly, until he comes to a halt in front of a red-headed woman, who kneels cautiously to pat his head. Ah. Could it have been…
They take a few steps closer and– no.
From a distance, she was similar in build with thick reddish hair, oddly clad in an oversized zip-up sweater over what looked like a hospital gown. As they grew closer, though, so did the differences - her hair was curly, and there was a light dusting of freckles over her cheeks as she turned. She looked down to Barkley, and then to them, honing in on the headphones at their neck, and there’s an odd sort of recognition in her eyes.
“...Kayleigh’s friend?”
How did she know her name? They hadn’t had a friend named Kayleigh in college - or at least they didn’t think so - but they hadn’t dared to hope for more than what they’d begged the universe for already. Their mind buffers as they attempt to come up with a normal sounding response, though habit silences them once again. They bob their head in something between a bow and a nod, and she repeats the gesture somewhat awkwardly.
“...Have we met?”
The woman flushes such a deep pink that her freckles blend into her cheeks, glancing uneasily over her shoulder as she takes a step closer, speaking barely above a whisper.
“Sorry, but do you remember the Mournchildren?”
They feel the hair on the back of their neck prickle. Unbidden, another memory unearths itself - one of a woman garbed in a dense cloak like a bedsheet, standing on a stage illuminated by torches. A woman shuffling nervously under the weight of the leadership of a cult, passed to her after the immolation-by-god of its founder.
Cass jerks back, their mouth falling open.
“Jacqueline?”
—
Twenty minutes later, the three of them had settled themselves on a bench overlooking the ocean, a proper breakfast acquired from a nearby coffee shop in hand. Cass had to sacrifice most of the twenty they were going to use to get Barkley a proper leash, but to look at her, Jacqueline seemed like she had a hard morning. They could probably keep up the drawstring illusion a little longer.
“I see. So your name is Cass…” Jacqueline takes another mouthful of strawberry cream cheese and looks at her meal like it’s given her a religious revelation. “...This is very good. What is it called?”
“That would be a bagel.”
“We never had such delights in the commune… perhaps I have judged this world too soon.” She licks the excess off her fingers and continues eating. Cass takes another bite of their own, sneaking glances over now and then.
“So, uh… how DID you get here, anyway?”
She holds up a finger - wait - and swallows another bite before speaking.
“After Dorian passed on, everyone looked to me to run things. I was used to doing all the work anyway… but after what I– what we saw, I began having these terrible nightmares…” She shakes her head. “...Word spread around Harbourtown about how you and your group had succeeded in leaving, and that there was a train station near the river mouth to the north. I had informed the rest I was investigating, and... it gets fuzzy after that.”
A pause to take and swallow another mouthful.
“I awoke in the hospital here… they told me I was in a ‘‘plane crash’’. I didn’t have ‘‘ documentation ’’ nor the currency they demanded to pay their exorbitant healing fee, so I snuck away when the healers left the room.”
That… would explain her outfit, though… wait.
“A plane crash?!” Cass sits up suddenly, startling Barkley away from where he’d been trying to sneak a bite of their bagel. “Are you okay?”
“I believe so. I have never seen a plane. I am missing my cloak, but I have found a fine replacement.” She raises a dainty hand and wiggles a loose sleeve around. “Though I must admit, I did not expect the places beyond our island to be so… complex.”
She sighs.
“I walked here because it looked very much like Harbor Town, and thought someone else might know what I was talking about. But the only person who knew where Wirral was said it was across the sea. We were never able to get that far.”
“Wait, wait. Slow down.” Cass throws up the hand not holding the bagel. “You… aren’t from this universe? You just came directly from New Wirral?”
“That is so.” She nods. "I was born there."
“That… shouldn’t be possible.” If how Amber described the process was correct, anyway. They had no recollection of ever telling Jacqueline about their own life - or much of anything, really. How would she have been able to visualize their universe well enough to come here? “Did Dorian tell you about the outside world?”
Jacqueline hesitates a moment before nodding. “At times, yes. Usually he seemed more keen on digging or having us feed him upgrapes…”
Of every universe, of every person, they happened to share their world with the narcissist. Great. Cass goes to take a sullen bite of their bagel and find it no longer in their hands, the quarter that remained actively being torn apart by a canine crook near their feet. They tsk. It does nothing.
“Um…” Jacqueline taps their shoulder, drawing their attention back. “If you don’t mind… you seem much more experienced with this world than I. Is there a chance you could help me return? I’m not sure if I am a right fit for this plane.”
Cass opens their mouth and closes it wordlessly. Did she not get the whole story before she jumped in?... God, did they have to be the one to break it to her? They look to Barkley for aid - or perhaps moral support - only to find him laying on his back with his legs in the air, bagel decimated. They would be on their own for this one.
“That,” Cass sucks in a deep breath. “might not be, er, possible. I’m sorry.”
“They said leaving New Wirral could not be done, either.” She says quietly. “And yet, you did. What makes this different?”
They didn’t have a good answer for that one. Jacqueline fidgets with the thin paper bag her bagel left behind.
“… If there is a way to return, I think it would be found in this other Wirral.” She begins, crunching the bag within her fist like its defeat gave her the strength to stand back up. “If your convictions abandoned you upon arrival, I will take them on myself.”
Her piece said, she heads further down the pier, slippered feet thumping a determined rhythm into the boards. And much like Meredith, all Cass could do was watch until she disappeared into the crowd.