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There wasn’t a lot of furniture in Stelle’s room.
That wasn’t too surprising; she’d only recently had hers set up by Himeko, and though she did occasionally hold onto the things she found on her journeys (read: trash) she didn’t have much in the way of personal touches, given she was still figuring out what those personal touches would even be. Sometimes it bothered her, how little her space reflected her personhood. She might not have a particularly detailed past before the space station, but she was still a person, dammit.
But today, she doesn’t mind the lack of identifying objects, because it means that the table they’d put in the room is open for her to mindlessly practice her bartending. Siobhan’s lessons have resonated more than she was expecting, and the act of mixing together pretty drinks with interesting effects has proven highly effective at helping her calm her mind. She usually just pours them out when she’s done- occasionally she’ll offer them to whoever happens to be aboard the Express- but she typically sticks to the cheaper, nonalcoholic mixes when she’s like this, so that it’s not a whole lot of money wasted.
Today has been… long. Penacony drains Stelle, though she gets the feeling from her interactions with others that it should be the opposite. There’s a strange sense of falsehood to Penacony that Stelle can’t shake, and so unlike the others, she takes the chance to leave the planet entirely when she can, returning to the Astral Express to rest and reflect instead of just staying in her hotel room. She’s as quiet and circumspect about her comings and goings as she can be, to the point where she’s not entirely sure Dan Heng is even aware she’s been coming back. That saddens her a little, because there’s a part of her that does genuinely want to talk to him about it, explore what’s happening and what she feels… but given her own feelings (especially after Firefly’s death) have her seeking isolation, she’s reluctant to disturb his. He’s already been through too much in too short a time.
Absently, she begins to hum under her breath as she returns to mixing. There isn’t a particular drink in mind at the moment, but when she stops to look, she finds that most of the drinks have been mixed to reflect the colors of the Trailblazers: bold red with gold accents for Himeko, a mixture of light pink and light blue for March, a more even blue atop swirls of green for Dan Heng, and an almost sparkling brown for Welt. Though most of the others are still on Penacony- they message from time to time when she comes back, to make sure she got there safely- she still looks fondly at the drinks. It’s been an incredibly short amount of time, all things considered, since she joined the Astral Express, but there’s no one else in the world she could think of who feels quite this much like family.
Following the theme, she grabs the mixing ingredients for a drink that matches PomPom’s colors- it would be cruel to leave out the conductor of the Astral Express, right? No sooner has she turned around towards the storage, however, than she hears a knock on the door, firm and sure and far too high up for it to be PomPom.
Stelle hesitates only for a moment before calling entry- the door isn’t locked. She may be practicing isolation to at least some degree, but given how worried the others were when she started coming back, she figures the least she can do is leave the door open should they decide to come back themselves. She doesn’t turn back around as the door opens, instead swiftly gathering the bottles she needs. When she turns around to set them on the table, Dan Heng has stepped into her room, watching her with shrewd eyes that do nothing to hide how he’s only just stopped looking like a ghost from his time on the Loufu, or the concern in them as he looks over at her.
“I didn’t realize you were back,” he says in greeting.
Stelle shrugs as she puts the bottles down carefully. “I’ve been slipping back whenever there’s a lull in what we can do in the Dreamscape,” she answers neutrally. “Staying on Penacony is… difficult, at times.”
Dan Heng frowns. “I didn’t realize you had been coming back until Himeko messaged me just now. You should have said something.”
Stelle shrugs again, still not meeting Dan Heng’s eyes. “Having experienced… well, let’s just say my time on Penacony has made me understand a lot better why you needed space. I didn’t want to intrude on you if it wasn’t important.”
There’s a heartbeat of silence, and Stelle risks glancing up to find that Dan Heng’s expression has softened considerably towards her, and that the worry is far more evident now. She can’t really blame him; this is unusual behavior from someone who’s usually always willing to talk, or share stories. Sometimes there just isn’t a good way to deal with the things she’s experienced. And she knows Dan Heng understands that.
She also knows that Dan Heng, much like the others, probably wishes that she didn’t have to go through those things in the first place, but oh well.
She half-expects him to ask about it, but instead Dan Heng’s attention switches to the drinks in front of her. “I wasn’t aware you’d become a mixologist,” he says lightly.
Stelle hesitates for a moment, but truthfully she does like talking about this sort of thing. “It’s something I learned recently- a few days ago, to be exact,” she explains, before telling Dan Heng about Siobhan, and the little corner in the Dreamscape for creatures that didn’t fit quite right with the rest of Penacony, and how she learned about drinks that convey something both visually and through taste. She keeps mixing as she does so, and soon the drink for PomPom appears on the table to sit with the others. Throughout her explanation, Dan Heng watches her intently, and when she stops talking to adjust the glasses in front of her, his gaze flicks down.
“Do you mix with all sorts of ingredients?” He asked. “I can’t remember the last time alcohol was allowed on the Express.”
Stelle blinks. There was a rule? “These are nonalcoholic,” she says quickly. “I don’t see the point in spending tons of credits on something that’ll be poured down the drain anyway. I just… relax easier if I can mix the drinks while I think. Gives my hands something to do.”
Dan Heng looks at her again, and the concern is back. She half-expects him to ask why she needs the distraction, but instead, he asks, “Is it alright if I try these?”
Stelle has to blink for a second. “The drinks? Sure. I have flavor cards somewhere around if you want them. I didn’t realize you liked mixed drinks.”
Dan Heng shrugs. “I can’t actually remember the last time I partook. Such drinks are not common on the Loufu, and though I would consider myself well-traveled, I don’t typically experiment too much.”
Stelle nods. “That’s understandable. Some of the things I’ve tasted since joining the Express make me cautious to experiment.”
The two shared a quiet laugh, and then Dan Heng gingerly picked up the drink modeled with his own colors. “I notice you’ve recreated the Express,” he says lightly, and something like mirth glints in his expression. Stelle blushes, ducking her head slightly.
“More a force of habit than anything,” she admits. “The Express crew is comforting.”
Dan Heng visibly softens. “I agree,” he says quietly, and takes a sip of the drink. His expression almost immediately becomes intrigued, and he takes another sip. “This is delicious.”
Stelle’s blush reignites fiercely. “I-I, um… thank you,” she murmured.
She can feel Dan Heng’s gaze on her. “I might almost feel jealous,” he teases, “if the others have been treated to this already.”
Stelle’s gaze darkens, and before she can stop herself, she shakes her head. “They haven’t. They’ve been… I was learning how to do this while they were following up on a lead. Himeko and Welt wanted me to take some time, after…”
She trails off, and the air grows still, their previous lightheartedness dissipating. Stelle clenches her fingers into fists. She doesn’t want to talk about it. She doesn’t, she doesn’t, she doesn’t….
“What happened, Stelle?”
And it’s the sheer gentleness of his question that makes Stelle deflate, as if the dam of emotions she’s been trying to keep in is finally too damaged to continue. She sags against the table, and stares numbly at the drinks. There’s one missing in the lineup, a drink she made earlier and stashed away. Forcing herself to straighten, she turns for a moment and grabs the glass, colored in the light green and pale white that she remembers so well, with a bright red ornament that reminds her of the fiery passion of a young woman who she will most likely never see again.
She sets the glass down on the table, and closes her eyes. “Her name was Firefly.”
Dan Heng’s focus hones in on her, but if he’s confused by the presence of the drink, he doesn’t say anything.
“She told me she was a stowaway,” Stelle continues. “I don’t know where from, but she mentioned the Swarm Disaster, and well… I know enough about what happened to those planets to get a pretty good idea of what happened to her. She told me… that she’d come to the Dreamscape looking for the Watchmaker’s Legacy so that she could find a cure for her Entropy Loss Syndrome.”
The sharp intake of breath tells her she doesn’t have to explain what that means to Dan Heng. In a way, she’s grateful for it. Firefly’s initial explanation, though obviously toned down, had still torn at her heart.
“On our way back to the Golden Hour, we were waylaid by a Masked Fool. Her name is Sparkle, I think. She tossed us into some sort of… crack, in the dream. And in the process of escaping, we were caught by a Memory Meme. The only name I could find tied to it was Death. And it would have killed us right then and there, if Acheron and Black Swan hadn’t intervened. They drove it off, though, and brought us out of the dream. And I didn’t think anything of it at the time, because we didn’t go in together, and she was a stowaway, so of course it made sense that I wouldn’t see her wandering around in reality.”
She can feel her throat threatening to close, overwhelming grief rearing its head. She forces it down, but her face must do something, because Dan Heng sets down his drink glass and shifts around the table. Close enough for her to touch, if she needs to, and she shoots him a quick, grateful look.
“Black Swan- the Memokeeper- brought me back into the crack where we’d been thrown to investigate what’s going on in Penacony. But Firefly had come back, on her own. I guess she thought the crack was the most promising lead to the Watchmaker- it’s the only thing I can think of that made sense. When we got to the broken lobby in the dreamscape, and she saw me, she was so relieved… and then as I was running towards her, the Meme returned.”
There’s a drop of water on the table. Stelle stares at it for a moment, watches as a second and then a third joins it. Next to her, Dan Heng is silent.
“Even if I had sprinted the moment I entered the room, I’m pretty sure I would have been too late,” she whispered. “I started running the second it showed up, but I wasn’t even halfway across the room when it… when its tail went right through her chest.”
A ragged breath, more of a sob than anything else, tears out of her throat, and suddenly there are arms around her, and she is being crushed gently into a solid chest. The tears flood out of her eyes, and she turns her face into Dan Heng’s shoulder, arms hanging uselessly as she quietly cries, the grief and horror and everything she couldn’t express when Black Swan used her powers flooding out with more force than she has the power to stop. Dan Heng doesn’t comment on the tears, doesn’t complain that she’s probably ruining his shirt. His arms encircle her, and he just lets her cry for aeons only know how long, until at last she has a modicum of control over her breathing again.
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “I’ve probably made a mess of your shirt with this.”
Dan Heng rests his head lightly on top of hers. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he says gently. “This is far from the greatest mess my shirt has ever seen. The important part in all of this is you. How are you feeling, now that you’ve gotten a chance to get everything out in the open?”
Stelle shrugs. “I probably should feel better than I do,” she admits. “I know Black Swan told the others about Firefly, but I haven’t actually seen anyone since it happened. The others are still dealing with representatives of the Family. And now I’ve finally been able to just… say everything that happened, and I should feel better now that it isn’t all just on me, but… I just feel tired.”
Dan Heng shifts, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes while keeping her firmly secure in his arms. “Grief doesn’t obey rhyme or reason, Stelle. And it sounds to me like you’ve been trying to stave it off for far longer than you should have to. It isn’t a bad thing that right now you feel tired. What matters is that, right now while you have the free time, you take the opportunity to rest and take care of yourself. When you eventually go back to finish whatever’s happening on Penacony, you need to have taken the chance to rest first.”
Stelle isn’t sure how to answer that, so she just nods. It’s a little hard to focus now, with how drained she is, but the last thing she wants is for Dan Heng to think she isn’t listening to him. Mercifully, he seems to get the message, because after a moment she’s being gently nudged towards the bed, made up in standard bedding with the Astral Express logo on it. When they’re off of Penacony, she’ll probably look into some sort of custom bedding for herself, the way March has, but she really doesn’t want to bring anything from Penacony back with her if she can help it.
She half-expects Dan Heng to leave after she gets to the bed, but he surprises her, climbing in after her and letting her rest her head on his shoulder. “Sleep,” he commands softly. “I’ll keep watch for you.”
Stelle hesitates anyway, and when Dan Heng raises an eyebrow, she lets her eyes fall shut. “It it looks like I’m starting to dream,” she whispers, “then please, wake me up right away.”
A hand softly nestles into her hair in answer, and Stelle finally lets herself relax, too exhausted to protest any further. The promise that she wouldn’t be left to dream was enough for now.
She honestly wasn’t sure she ever wanted to dream again.