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Cub liked this cafe.
It was quiet.
He appreciated that. Not to say that it was completely dead silent, but the thing was, the atmosphere helped him relax. When he was calm his senses, particularly his hearing, didn’t spike nearly as bad. That was why he took his breaks here pretty often, and liked to stop by on the way home for a coffee and some time to unwind. It was nothing like the chaotic bustling coffee shop near campus Scar frequented. The cafe had warm chocolate colors, comfy booths. Fluffy rugs over the hardwood kept sounds from echoing, and the hipster-style decorative lighting was dimmer than most places, something Cub was uniquely grateful for.
Today the place was pretty busy, but its main clientele was professionals from the nearby office buildings and teachers from the city high school. Cub was waiting near the pick-up counter for his drink, noise-cancelling headphones on. The soundscape of the day was a rainstorm, no thunder, just the pitter-patter of droplets striking a metal roof. It droned in his ears, muffling the world around, and yet it didn’t completely dampen everything. Cub never could manage to completely block everything out.
Which is why he jerked his chin up from where his gaze was lowering, eyes almost closed as he unwound from the days tension, the bright lights and the noise of clattering machinery at the Hot Cave.
“Sausage!” The barista called as he set a cup onto the countertop, the largest size the shop sold.
“Oh, thank you very much!”
Cub turned his attention toward the man who stood from a corner table, where a bulky laptop was plugged in to an outlet by a cable that was more red electric tape than rubber at this point. He wore a maroon button down, the black buttons were straining to hold it together over his muscular chest, and his tie was slightly loosened. Fitted slacks. His eyes were magenta, left one was dull, with a thick jagged scar that cut over his eyebrow and featured prominently on his cheekbone. His dark brown hair to the right side of his head was shaved short with a longer sweep of hair falling over the left side of his face. Cub figured he probably kept that longer sweep to partially conceal the scar, and he would also guess the man was blind in his left eye, seeing how dulled it was, not to mention the placement of the nasty scar.
“Have a nice day!” The barista said to him, and the man beamed. His voice was bubbly and cheerful, it tittered happily on each syllable.
“I will, I will, I hope you do too!” He picked up his coffee, then turned and walked over to the small condiment station beside the pick-up area. It was a cute wooden table with a decorative ceramic parrot to one side, and also held pumps for creamer and packets of sugar, alongside plastic cutlery.
Sausage…?
Cub thought to himself. That was probably some sort of inside joke or a nickname that stuck. His eyes trailed to the side as he watched the man. He tapped at his phone to stop the soundscape playing in his ears.
Something was tugging at the back of his mind that he was…familiar.
He must’ve been staring a little too intently, because Sausage glanced up at him once he finished adding copious amounts of sugar packets to his coffee. He took a sip from it to test, then lowered it. Pale milk foam clung to his upper lip.
“And hows your day going?”
It wasn’t a call out. Cub supposed he was just a cheerful person. He quickly averted his eyes down toward the ground.
“Going well, sorry, didn’t mean to stare.”
“Aw, no worries, no worries at all!” Sausage replied, waving his free hand dismissively. His attention now fixed onto Cub.
A few seconds went by, then his smile faltered a bit. “Wait a minute…you…”
Cub stared back at him, then hesitantly raised a hand to remove his headphones and lower them to hang around his neck.
“What is it?”
Sausage stared at him for a few seconds longer, then suddenly leaned closer. Much closer. Cub felt panic stutter in his chest, his hearing did a spiking surge when this stranger pushed into his personal space, but he understood the reasoning when he recognized the words Sausage barely breathed.
“…you got out too, huh? …I’m so glad.”
He leaned back again, beaming. “I can’t believe I’d run into you here!” He exclaimed more loudly, as if to cover his awkward lean-in.
“Cub!” The barista called his name.
Sausage grinned, as if the name was confirmation. “You got your drink, hm? Then come sit with me! We most definitely have to catch up, you know it!”
Cub was still confused, but he now knew that scratch of familiarity he had with the man hadn’t been imagined. So he nodded, collected his drink, and joined Sausage at his table.
The shop was so peaceful, but that also meant there wasn’t any sort of natural din that would cover their conversation. Cub got the sense this wasn’t the sort of thing to talk about within human earshot.
Even still, Sausage was looking him up and down with a goofy grin on his face.
“I can’t believe it! Oh, I’m just so glad to see you, Cub! The last time? We were both just kids!”
Just kids…?
Cub felt a flash of shock rush through him. He lurched forward a bit in his seat and dropped one palm onto the table. Sausage’s grin didn’t fade as he reached up to close his bulky laptop, realizing that Cub had finally recognized him.
Which he had.
“It’s you.” He murmured, and Sausage nodded mirthfully.
“In the flesh! Ah, who would think we’d run into each other like this! Haha!”
Cub felt a sudden bluster of emotion, unsure of what to say. The first thing that came to mind was something he couldn’t recall ever letting leave his lips all those years ago.
“Thank you.”
26 Years Ago
Cub
Where did they come from!?
He scrambled along the uneven stone away from the noise.
Noise, noise, noise.
Fear closed his throat, and his tiny frame trembled.
Cub was a warden mutant in the Deep Dark.
That in and of itself should be no surprise. Where else was he gonna be?
Loud, loud, loud.
There were footsteps and bursts of glamor that seemed to shriek within the narrow confines of the Deep Dark’s twisting passages. Flashlights beaming through, sputtering and weak as they cut against the dark, over the soft pulse of turquoise in the skulk flora that grew over the rocks. Cub kept moving. His blue tee shirt was several times oversized, stained in places and torn at the bottom. He’d dug it out of a trash heap from the labs up above, alongside a labs blazer that was sports several sickening stains. Old shorts that were held up by a length of cord as opposed to a real drawstring. Barefoot, he rushed over the skulk, the tendrils that emerged from behind his ears and peaked up over his mop of greasy unkempt black hair. The skulk markings over his neck crept over his jawline and near one cheekbone. The whites of his eyes weren’t white at all. They were black, with turquoise orbs, no pupils. The dark was familiar to him. He didn’t see in a traditional sense, the flashlights from these people had stunned him, but he’d started running in time, a warning coming to him through the skulk flora like blaring alarms in his brain. Glamor sparked from the tendrils atop his head as they rippled, looking to be caught in an invisible water current. He kept running, the back of the labs blazer he’d pulled from the trash with it’s dark stains on the sleeves, some from him, some from whoever had worn it previously, fell almost to the backs of his knees.
Another shrieking sound echoed through he tunnels, and he clapped his hands over his head with a cut-off whimper.
Too loud!
He knew what those people were.
Ghast mutants.
Cub was a kid, a kid who shouldn’t be privy to such dark things, but then, he lived in the dark. With no parents, no family, no support. Not even a rag-tag group of fellow gutter rats because they feared him just the same. Fair enough, Cub avoided them as well. His volume control was terrible so when he spoke he always feared to be too loud, kept his voice down always, you had to down here.
You didn’t want to catch the attention of any adult warden mutants nearby.
They would silence you. One way or another.
When that was the case, you kept your mouth shut.
So as Cub fled the ghast mutants and their sweeping flashlight beams, bare feet scrabbling over uneven stone floor, slippery skulk, breath coming in frantic uneven pants, he did so silently. He didn’t scream or cry for help.
Who would listen?
Another shriek, another exploding crackling burst of glamor that rattled his skull, it was far to loud. Far to loud. Cub had managed to evade them, leave the area and conceal himself long before they would sweep through every time previously, but his luck had run out. The boy bit down hard on his tongue, tasted blood, his fingers dug in against his scalp, pulled his hair till it stung. He was starting to shake, his legs weren’t cooperating as well, no, no, no, he needed to keep moving.
He knew what the ghast mutants wanted.
They were the ones who worked with the traffickers.
Cub was 8 years old…maybe 9…or was he closer to 7?
Honestly, he couldn’t have told you. He didn’t know for sure.
Such a little kid in some contexts, on his own for as long as he could feasibly remember…but he’d learned.
Cub was a very good listener.
He knew how to keep himself quiet and be unobtrusive, so he’d managed to spend some time around the adult wardens. Witness their families, small nuclear families that lived closer to the passages to the Depths. There were small gatherings that would happen, information exchanged, and so long as Cub was absolutely silent, they wouldn’t immediately shoo him away.
He’d hang at the corners, straining his hearing to listen to the faintest whispers because no one spoke above their breath down here.
It was dark and quiet.
Cub didn’t necessarily mind that.
It was only terrifying when awful things happened, and they would also take place in silence. Everyone involved, perpetrator, victim, casual passerby, they all knew better than to scream or scuffle.
Which is why the sweeps were usually so easy for Cub to avoid.
The ghast mutants had an agreement with the wardens who ruled the Deep Dark. Gutter rats or other drifters would occasionally seek refuge in the skulky tunnels, knowing the safety that the warden mutants domain could offer in comparison to the Depths, but once they got to numerous they began to threaten the dark and the quiet.
The ghast mutant clans were always looking for fresh bodies for their own trade.
Cub didn’t know more than that. He didn’t need to.
The ghasts had permission from the warden mutants to make a ruckus during their sweeps, in order to scare the gutter rats out of their hiding places and scoop them all up. It was twisted, brutal efficiency. Cub had already heard the half-stifled screams of other kids, other loners, others who were too slow.
Keep moving!
Another crackle of glamor, and this time the burst of light and sound from the ghast mutants was only a few yards behind him. The light surged forward, and Cub felt like the exposure of the entire world cranked to eleven. He tripped on his own feet as a wave of nausea passed over him, frantically swallowed down the acrid taste in his throat because he didn’t have time for that, they were so close, they were so close behind him, this was it, this was…
“Hey!”
A hand fisted into the back of the blazer, and he turned his head in a snap. A man with dark hair streaking black, silver, and pink, glamor winding through him in sparks. Magenta eyes fixed on Cub.
“Easy there kid, we aren’t gonna hurt you.”
Liar, liar, liar…
“…a warden kid? Should we take him to the boss?” Another voice was speaking from somewhere further behind, but Cub could feel a tremor rushing down his body full force.
“Probably a good idea, wouldn’t wanna piss off the wardens, even though judging by his clothes he’s nothing but another rat, so he’s probably fair game.”
They were all holding flashlights, shining light onto him so they could see him, and it was too bright, their voices weren’t beneath breath, they were loud and ringing, too much, and the hand fisted into the back of his blazer was tight, they were all closing in, too much, too much…
Cub let out a half-stifled sob and curled into himself, clapping his hands over his ears and squeezing his eyes shut, but the light pierced through them. The man easily held his weight, thin and small for his subspecies, for his age, or at least…what he thought his age probably was, just from the fistful of his blazer.
Too bright.
Too loud.
Too much.
Tears burned and pressed their out out from his tightly shut eyes, he gripped at his hair and the tendrils emerging from behind his eyes, more sobs uncontrollably wracked him, his whole body quivering. Overload. He couldn’t convince himself to uncurl, to fight back, to do anything, anything, anything.
“Myth! Take him to your Dad, ok?”
“R-Right…yessir, can do!”
Cub vaguely recognized a young voice, and he still couldn’t unwind, he kept himself curled into a tight ball, trying to block out the light and the sound, sobbing so hard he could barely breathe, too much.
The arms that took him were gentle.
Which was strange.
They weren’t forceful. They weren’t painful or tight or harsh. He was carried for a few yards, or maybe a few dozen yards, or…Cub didn’t know.
He couldn’t comprehend…it was all just too much.
“…I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…”
The voice carrying him was young. Cub didn’t open his eyes, if anymore light got into him now he thought his brain might just fry. Even if he could tell there were no more flashlights on him. The voice also spoke under breath, so quiet, barely even audible perhaps, but to Cub it was like having a megaphone pressed to his ear.
He whimpered, sobbed, his whole body wouldn’t stop shaking.
“Shh…shh…I’m so sorry…”
Kept sobbing.
“Try and breathe…I-I’ll…I, um…my Dad is…”
The tears were coursing fast and hot, they wouldn’t stop, he felt so sick, he felt so overwhelmed, there was no way he was unwinding from the pitiful little ball he’d turned into.
“…he’s…”
Sob.
“…I…”
Sob.
“…hnn…”
Cub felt the grip, the arms smaller than those of an adult, tightening around him. Then, suddenly, he was shaken twice. The jarring motion forced his eyes open for a split-instant, and he lifted his chin from where he had it tightly tucked down against his chest, enough that his eyes, turquoise orbs, darted up to see him.
The person carrying him was tall and strapping, with long dark brown hair streaking the same pinks and silvers as the other ghast mutants. His eyes were a paler pink, perhaps because of his age, because he was young.
He was a big kid…but he was still a kid. Cub wasn’t sure how old he’d guess, but his voice was still pretty high-pitched; it hadn’t yet deepened.
Also, he was still trying to convince his entire body to stop trembling violently, so excuse him if his assessments were falling flat. He squeezed his eyes shut again, he couldn't bear to keep them open.
“Listen to me.” The kid hissed suddenly, eyes darting back, then up. His grip got a little tighter.
Cub wasn’t sure what it was.
But unlike the fist into the back of his blazer from earlier, this grip didn’t scare him. It felt protective, not restrictive.
“Can you scream?”
Cub tried to process, waves of tears still pouring down his face even though he was trying to keep his eyes shut.
“Huh?” He croaked, and it was the first real noise he’d made aside from sobbing over the past few minutes.
“Sonic screech…can you do that?”
Cub unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth. He could feel that the boy carrying him had slowed his pace.
“…n-never tried.” He admitted quietly.
“Well then, no time like the present, right?”
“Why?”
“Because I don’wanna stick around here either…and I guess…” Myth, or at least, that was the name Cub thought he had caught for him, was probably looking around; Cub could hear his hair shifting; he could hear so much right now, he could hear too much right now...
“…Imma turn ya around and hug ya tight around the middle. When I do, I need ya to scream your lungs out. Then I’ll poof us up and over…I think I can make that jump, lemme see…” Myth was frantically looking around, Cub could sense the urgency clamping down tighter. There were murmuring voices up ahead.
His Dad?
Right. That was who Myth was supposed to take him to. The boss?
That was bad.
That was really bad.
Cub squeezed his eyes even tighter shut, as hard as he could manage. The tendrils atop his head flickered and trilled as they connected with the skulk of the tunnels around them.
“…l-look straight up…” Cub said, his voice tight, quiet, and aching.
Myth shot a glance up and squinted.
“What should I see?”
“…little tunnel…I-I’ve been up there before…w-we should fit…”
“Oh yeah? Does it lead up?”
“Uh-huh…through one of the trash chutes…”
“Gotcha.”
“Myth! Time is money, boy, let’s move!”
A deeper voice shouted, and Cub cringed inward again, the sudden rising volume from the man felt as if it were shredding his eardrums like paper. He sensed Myth flinch as well when the man raised his voice.
Then Cub felt Myth’s grip around him, still curled into his little ball, tighten.
“When I turn you, you gotta scream, then I’ll poof us outta here…you got me?”
“…b-but I’ve never…”
“Hurry it up!” The man's voice shouted again. Cub noticed Myth flinch again, even harder.
The older boy's hands, still holding him, were beginning to tremble.
“No time for never, you can do it!”
Cub found himself moving. Myth turned him around and rather forcefully unrolled him from how he’d balled up in fear. Arms wrapped around his middle and hugged him tight against his chest.
He snapped his eyes open.
Flashlights. Glamor sparks. Too bright. Voices. Shouting. Too Loud.
Too much.
Too much.
Too much.
Cub sucked down a breath and kept drawing, kept drawing till his ribcage rattled and his lungs were straining, and every ounce of his tiny body felt close to popping. His eyes burned. The tendrils atop his head lit up as turquoise glamor sparked through his eyes, and the glowing bioluminescence of his skulk markings glowed brighter as well.
…
…
SKREEEEE!
The shriek burned up his throat, coiled on his tongue, and exploded outward with enough force that Myth had to brace his legs just to stop the two of them from getting knocked over. Cub was a warden mutant, but he was still a child, it wasn’t the sort of power you’d get from an adult warden mutant screaming their lungs out.
But it certainly did the job.
Circlets of glamor like bright blue spirals rocketed from his lips and slammed into the small gathering of ghast mutants, knocking them all several yards in all directions, they scattered like dust, bodies hurled as if they weighed nothing by the force of the shriek.
Warden mutants were feared for a reason. Cub was a child, one who was terrified and had never even attempted to use his subspecies-specific skill, a sonic shriek, before today, yet he’d still done this much damage. The redstone pallet the ghast mutants had been waiting next to went haywire, the redstone glitching, and sparking. Their flashlights reacted the same way as if the technology just couldn’t bear the brunt of such a forceful impact of high-density sound.
“Going up!”
Cub had just wailed for all his was worth, so most of his wind was gone anyway, but it was knocked out anew when the arms around his waist jerked up below his armpits with the force of the so-called ‘poof’ that Myth triggered. The two of them slotted into the small craggy break in the stone tunnel sloping ceiling that Cub had pointed out earlier. The skulk surrounded them, soft and mossy, it blissfully muffled the sound from down below. Groans, grumbles, screams and a distant…
“Myth! Where the hell do you think you’re going!?”
Meanwhile, Myth scrambled for all his was worth through the tight passages to put some distance between them and the tunnel they’d just escaped from. It was pitch black. Cub was so grateful for that. His head was throbbing, his lungs and throat were burning, his whole body was quaking.
Yet he felt…powerful.
I guess I’m stronger than I thought…
“Oof!” Myth stopped with a grunt.
Cub squirmed in his arms, and then suddenly found himself being dropped the short distance to the ground.
“Sorry, you gotta go ahead of me…i-it’s gettin real tight… you sure we can fit through here?”
Cub took a few seconds to try and regain the use of his limbs. He was still shaky, but a few sucked-down breaths helped, and thankfully Myth seemed aware enough of his sensitivity to noise, especially after what they’d just gone through, that he kept his voice to a whisper.
That or he was trying to ensure they weren’t heard and then promptly followed by the ghast mutants, either one. Cub wasn’t picky.
“…I can fit.”
“That ain’t helpful, little guy.”
“Names Cub.”
“Well, it’s a pleasure to…meet you!”
It was still pitch black, but they were surrounded by skulk, and as his senses began to wind down, Cub was able to see in his usual way. Myth had just managed to wriggle the rest of the way through the tight squeeze that had been at the end of the initial passage. He popped through and tumbled head-over-heels once to land next to Cub in the small opening where the little warden mutant was sat.
Cub had his eyes closed. It was pitch black, so he didn’t need them open. He sensed Myth groping around and reached a hand out, the cuff of his oversized trash-heap chic labs blazer had unfurled somewhat to give him half a sleeve paw. He placed his hand on Myth’s forearm. “I’m here.” He said, speaking barely above breath.
That was how you always spoke, in the Deep Dark. That shriek had been so uncanny, and yet…as before, it had given him a sense of strength.
Myth settled with a sigh when he felt Cub’s hand on him.
“…ok…let’s just take it easy for a second…” He replied.
A few moments went by. The skulk around them flickered, and Cub hummed quietly.
“What’s up?” Myth prompted him.
“Skulk says you were like a stuffed sausage.”
“Skulk says huh? Since when does skulk talk?”
“Sausage.”
“Hey! Now the walls are insulting me?”
Cub found a giggle bursting up from his chest; a smile warmed his features, and that was rather a rare thing for him.
He spent most of his time alone. The skulk kept him company, but to claim that it talked like Myth had said was stretching it. It was more like Cub just got the vague inklings of the skulks consciousness within his own head, and usually that was how he’d evaded capture by any of the sweeps to this point.
When he laughed, he heard Myth laugh as well. As he did, his voice seemed to pitch a little higher, and it made Cub tilt his head. Eyes still closed, the tendrils that emerged from behind his ears flicked and trilled softly.
When was the last time he’d made someone laugh?
Had that ever happened before?
“…your name is Myth, right?” Cub asked quietly.
“Yeah.”
A moment's pause.”
“Though I guess I oughtta change it.”
“How come?”
“…how old are you?”
“Nine. I think.”
That's probably rounding up, actually...
“You’re too young to get it.”
“How old are you?”
“Twelve.”
“Not much older.”
“Hey, it’s a big difference.”
“Hmph.”
He listened to Myth sigh softly, but the sound was toned with amusement.
“…I just pissed off my Papa pretty bad. I don’think he’ll be to nice ta me if I go back...not that he was particularly nice to me in the first place.”
Cub tilted his head the other way. Eyes still closed in the near pitch black of this little opening between the Deep Dark and the Depths, a tiny oasis.
“You’re gonna run away?”
“Guess so.”
“Hm. Where will you go?”
“Great question. What about you?”
“I’ll go back down. Somewhere deeper. Might try to be closer to the adult wardens. They don’t usually mind as long as I keep quiet ‘cause I’m the same subspecies as them.”
Myth hummed softly. “That sounds like a plan. I don’t think I could manage living somewhere this dark all the time.”
“Is it brighter in the cavern?”
“Have you ever been up there?”
“Never.”
Cub listened to Myth adjusting his posture, he was forced to slouch in the small enclave, even though he’d said he was twelve, he was already quite tall and strapping.
“It’s brighter, sure, but not what I’d call bright. I dunno, the sun is probably nicer.”
“Have you ever seen the sun?”
“Nope.”
“Hm. Me neither.”
“I’d figured.”
They sat in the quiet, and Cub listened to the gentle trill of the skulk all around him for a few seconds. He cracked his eyes open halfway and saw the vaguest outline of Myth in the dark.
Maybe the light wouldn’t be unbearable if it were sunlight?
That didn’t make any sense.
Cub only had a vague concept of what the sun would even be like, anyway.
Even still, he tightened his fists against the edges of his overlarge labs blazer sleeves.
“…I think I’ll go see the sun, one day.” He declared softly.
He saw Myth perk up just a touch. Not like he was completely straighten up in the small space, but the movement was visible. Cub kept his eyes open, seeing what he could, supplemented by his senses.
And even those couldn’t really have confirmed it, but even still, he would have bet that Myth was smiling.
“Me too. We’ll both see it, one day. Deal?”
Myth stuck his hand out in front of himself, even though Cub had shuffled to sit beside him.
Cub giggled again. “I’m over here.”
“Ok, listen, not all of us have got super skulk senses!”
Cub reached out and got ahold of Myth’s hand from the side, giving him an awkward half a handshake.
“Deal.”
They bided their time in the tiny pitch-dark oasis for a little longer until Cub had heard through the skulk that the sweep had moved on. Then Cub had guided Myth through the tight passages to an exit back into the main tunnels of the Deep Dark and finally pointed him toward the upward slope that led out into the main cavern, the Depths.
“Will you be ok?”
Myth had sounded far more concerned about this little boy he’d known for only a couple hours than he ought to be. Considering he was still a kid himself, freshly on his own, probably having made an enemy of his former clan by way of fleeing them.
Cub looked up at him, the light was enough here that he could make out Myth, even if he wondered the same were true in reverse. His eyes were more sensitive, after all.
“I’ll be fine. I’m strong.”
Myth had given him a brilliant grin. “You sure are, and don’t forget it. Maybe I’ll see ya around someday.”
“Maybe. Bye-bye.”
Cub might’ve clung to him tighter had he been a different sort of kid. But he was well used to being alone.
This time, though, when he returned to the Deep Dark, he had a goal for the first time in his life.
I’m gonna see the sun, one day.
And as he walked, even in the pitch darkness, he kept his eyes open.
Present Day.
“Aw, don’t you worry about it! Really, I should thank you! Meeting you that day really put me on the right track, even if it was little rough for awhile!” Sausage was grinning at him, the same sort of grin, and even if he’d clearly been through so much, considering the scar over his face and his blinded eye, Cub was able to feel like, just for a moment, he was back in that tiny gap in the tunnel ceiling.
“I would have been toast if you hadn’t gotten me out of there, though. It would’ve been seriously bad news. More importantly…” Cub pointed at his cup, with the name written in marker against the side.
“You go by Sausage?”
“Sure do! Wonder who gave me the idea.” Sausage mused, and Cub snorted.
“You’re kidding, man.”
“Am not! I haven’t gone by ‘Myth’ since back then, trust me, it’s better like this. Plus, it always gets a laugh out of my students, even if my Papa made me use my actual name on my diplomas, so I don’t get to hang a nice big piece of paper saying Sausage M.A in History up on the wall.” Sausage gestured dramatically, and Cub’s eyebrows shot up.
“You went back?”
The ghast mutant, though he was concealing the marks of his subspecies, the tell-tale pulsing streaks of black, silver, and pink that should’ve been in dark brown hair, beneath glamor, gave a wry smile.
“Nah. Got adopted. A good man picked me and a few other stragglers up, decided to keep us around. I had it out with my…former folks a couple'a times when I got older, but he always had my back…still does, y’know? And how about you?”
Cub smiled. “Congrats, man, that’s amazing. I didn’t get adopted or anything like that, but I wormed my way into one of the schools that opened up after…y’know, after the ‘big mess’…”
He chose these words as opposed to saying Anarchy aloud in such a public space, just on the off chance that some of the other cafe-goers were from down below. No need to let the secrets out more than necessary.
“…and I got a scholarship through the labs to come up here.”
“And what do you do?”
“Biotech engineering.”
Sausage gave a low whistle. “Look at you go!”
He toasted toward Cub with his coffee cup, a beaming smile on his face.
Cub smiled back. It didn’t beam or spread as wide as Sausage’s massive grin, but it carried all of the same fond feeling because it was just such a bizarre coincidence.
They’d been together over twenty-five years ago in a tiny niche in the ceiling, two kids hiding from the cruelty of a world due shortly thereafter to come down around them.
Yet they’d both made it out ok.
“Hey.” Cub found himself speaking again.
“What’s up?”
Cub tilted his head slightly, then slid his hazy gaze toward the window of the cafe. A knowing expression played over his face. “Sun’s out today. It’s nice.”
Sausage blinked once, and then his massive grin softened toward something less forceful but every bit as strong. Somehow it felt good to know that, unbeknownst to each other for so many years, they'd fulfilled a promise.
“It sure is, my friend…it sure is.”