Archive of Our Own ^beta

Nathaniel Wilds had tried their best to prepare for the end, but they hadn’t expected dying to take longer than living. 

It was seconds before the destruction of everything they’d ever known. It had been for hours. Days, even. They’d been as ready as they could be, given the circumstances. Now they were just confused.  

They tried to organize their jumbled thoughts, which was hard enough to do in reality, much less a dream. Last thing they remembered was the Steaks, huddled together as the results of the election were announced, Silas nestled against them and Mac too, as much as Mac had been trying his best to act like he couldn’t care less about anything. It was a futile activity, the election, some kind of desperate, last minute play at control. Either that or a diversion by a bunch of clueless fans who thought they had all the damn time in the world. Idiots. There’d been something about peanuts and snow - absurd things to have an election about even if the world wasn’t ending, frankly - and then a list of names.

Somewhere in there was his own.

NATHANIEL WILDS BECAME A STATIC CHARGE

Then everything had faded. Except, for some reason, his consciousness, stubbornly refusing to believe that it was all over. He’d wondered at first if it was that stupid election biting him in the ass. If somehow charging that microphone slowed time to some unbearable degree, leaving him in the limbo of moments before his team’s destruction far longer than he should have had to endure. 

Except the microphone was nowhere in sight, and something as bright and pink as that thing would be hard to miss, especially if it was using him as a battery. In fact, there was nothing here except him. Or. He wasn’t completely sure of that, actually. Sometimes he thought he could perceive the scent of a familiar flower he’d never smelled before, or hear the echo of a sound that had never been made to begin with, or something else equally baffling. But every time, it vanished like a puff of smoke, leaving him certain it was all only caused by his own dreaming mind, plant matter and fried circuits fruitlessly fighting off the inevitable. 

So, what then? Maybe it was that thing people talked about, how the last moments before your death stretch out into infinity. Mac said that had happened to them, when they’d died, that they’d seen their whole larger-than-life life, every prize fight, every stupid decision. But all Nat could see was- well, he knew what it wasn’t. It was the opposite of an ecosystem. An ecosystem was mountains, rivers, plants, animals, microscopic life forms, all coming together to form a picture vast as it was fleeting. This was small and noisy, everything that could ever be but broken up into the tiniest possible pieces, and it lasted forever.

Static. Like on that old TV someone had snuck into the back room of the casino. Much as the unchanging chaos had unsettled him, he hadn’t been able to help but stare into it. He almost imagined he could hear voices coming through, something raw, yearning to be born.

When Orlando came in to see them spending their break transfixed by it, wasting precious minutes like an absolute fucking loser, ey’d laughed, pleasantly, like ey was trying to ease the blow.

“You do realize that means the TV isn’t working, right? It’s just static.”

And now he was dying, and his mind couldn’t muster up a calm forest, or memories of his team, or even the damn casino, loud and awful as that was. He wasn’t even in some tundra, decaying in the cold, bare of leaves, the way he’d always imagined it would be when he went.

That would have been comforting at least. Under the permafrost, there were always hidden roots, waiting to sprout when the thaw came around. Sinking into a cold, barren land, would at the very least give it a corpse to feed off, to one day grow again from. 

But no. He was dying, and all he could dream of was static.

Once, early on, after a full shift at the casino followed by a full game of blaseball, Nat had all but collapsed in the dugout. Aubrey had propped them up, looked over them thoroughly like a kindergartener she was checking for bruises. She sighed, and instead of pulling a first aid kit from her bag, she offered them a device, and put the small speakers connected to it up to their head.

It played music. Music wholly unlike the call of a bird or the whistle of wind. Strange but mellow, something Nat immediately put into their mental bucket of undeniably human experiences. They liked it.

“They call it ‘lofi beats to study to’” Aubrey explained. “But in my case, ‘it’s lofi beats to prep for the kiddos to’. It relaxes me, y’know? Thought it could do the same for you, Nat.”

He nodded, smiled in gratitude. The ground became a little greener beneath Aubrey’s feet, and the grasses that sprouted just a bit higher swayed in time to the beat of the music.

Finally, then, his mind had given him something to process in this dream at death’s door. Because there it was, quiet songs just like the ones Aubrey had introduced to him, barely audible behind a layer of noise, but there nonetheless.

Nat remembered that television set again. They wondered absently if there had been some picture, some sound playing behind all the static. Was that how it worked? They weren’t sure.

Were there voices here in this place too, between musical phrases? If there were, Nat couldn’t parse them. Regardless, the rhythms - the change of it, finally - were enough to calm their nerves a little. Maybe they could finally meet the end with readiness.

Nathaniel did not meet the end. The static stretched on for an unknowable amount of time. He scoffed at it. Time. He’d wanted every moment on the Steaks, so why’d it have to come to him only now, in this emptiness?

The floral scent wafted over Nat once again. But this time, amazingly, it didn’t fade. It grew stronger. This made it no easier to identify - was it even a scent, or something else entirely? Something about it felt just slightly off. But it was beautiful, and as the closest they’d been to nature in - however long they’d been dreaming - it ignited a deep longing inside them for plants and soil and life.

“Are you from the Garden?”

What? No one in this dream had ever talked to him, there had been no one here to do any talking. The question was fucking vague too, which made sense, for a dream, but was still annoying. Which garden? The answer was probably “no”, assuming the garden the voice meant contained the flowers that it smelled like. Unless it meant “the garden” metaphorically as like, a way to refer to nature as a whole, in which case the answer was yes. That garden was their very being, it meant everything to them, and it was gone. The prickly feeling of the air suddenly felt more intense, at that thought.

“Do you speak? I… I’ve picked up a little sign if you don’t?” Now something was in their field of vision. A human? No, hazy around the edges. A… ghost, then. A blur of purple and pale pink and green, with shocks of the same bright magenta as that microphone. And… a flower in their hair. Nat couldn’t place it.

“You don’t have to communicate at all if you don’t want either.” the ghost said quietly. “I just… d’you mind if I stay with you a bit? I know it’s weird to say, but… you remind me of home. And I haven’t been able to see home since the Microphone tuned to…”

They trailed off. It took longer than it should have for Nat to remember they’d asked him a question. They nodded, which felt weird. They hadn’t actually moved this whole time, had they? In their defense, there wasn’t much of a point. They were about to not exist anyway. 

Yet here they were, conscious enough to keep having thoughts. It was like the time the whole team had gone to see a movie between seasons, some action thing, people in capes saving the world from certain doom. A really shitty choice, looking back on it, considering their situation. Peyton had enjoyed it, at least. Before the movie, Nat had zoned out for a moment, thinking it'd begin any second. Then they blinked, and realized three whole movie trailers had passed and they had been doing nothing but staring blankly. A tangible feeling of dread overtook them. Those had been precious moments! They could have been talking to their team! Planning for next season! Doing literally anything instead of just waiting! But they hadn’t and the time had gone and they felt like crap through the whole damn movie.

The ghost still looked confused. “Is that a ‘yes I can’, or a ‘yes, you mind’?” Oh. He’d nearly forgotten they were there. They seemed about to maybe just slink off. He realized, with some alarm, that he didn’t want that. So he made a noise that sounded like a harsh breeze whipping into a thin sickly tree and attempted to speak.

“You can stay.” he said.

“Oh! Thanks.” the ghost replied, and came a little closer. He could see their eyes, wide and sad but somehow still more full of life than he’d expect a ghost’s to be. He should've expected it. Mac’s eyes had been bright too. 

Also, he could see now that this ghost was a child. 

He felt pure, hot, anger at whoever or whatever had inflicted this purgatory on a child.

The ghost must have sensed his sudden emotion, as they hesitated, but then continued to draw closer. To Nat’s surprise, the ghost seemed to be looking at him warmly. “…You’re probably really scared, right? It’s okay. I’m here.”

Nat didn’t know how to respond to that, so he didn’t. He could feel all traces of his earlier anger change into something else entirely.

“I’m Violet. Or Vi.” the ghost said, and it finally connected. The scent. The flower in their hair. A violet. But not quite. Just ever so slightly different than any violet Nat was familiar with that he doubted it was one at all. It nagged at him, but it was still a flower. He’d take it.

“Nat.” he said. Violet stuck out their hand, and he extended a rusting appendage that crunched with the residue of dead leaves as it moved. He half expected his hand to pass right through theirs, but their hands met in a gentle, awkward, handshake.

Maybe this was it then. The reason they’d clung on to existence for as long as they had. They’d never go home again, but if they could be something like home to this kid in these final moments, maybe every worthless fucking effort they’d put in this whole time would at least result in a little comfort for someone before the gaping nothingness. 

Except no comfort could ever be enough. The kid didn’t deserve this. Nat didn’t deserve this.

He bent like he was sitting down, even though this place had no down, or any surfaces to sit on, and patted the weird prickly air like it was a warm rock covered in soft moss. Vi bent in a sitting position beside him. If he tried very hard, Nat could almost imagine that the two of them were watching the sunset.

Vi came and went. Nat was still here, dreaming, because what else could it be? They tried not to think about how strange it was, considering they’d never slept. Of course they’d gotten rest in the offseason - when they had the time, space, and confidence that the rest of the Steaks wouldn’t completely fall apart without them, they’d fuck off deep into the forest, lie down, and let their sense of self disintegrate. Briefly, they’d be everything again, not bound by a clock ticking toward the end. They’d be the grasses swaying in the wind, the deeply rooted trees reaching toward the sky and the bugs hiding in their bark, the critters scurrying through the leaves, and the dormant life in the acorns they buried. It was lovely to feel so connected and so lonely all at once. A reminder of where they’d come from.

But that wasn’t what most people would describe as “sleep”. They knew this because they’d described it to Mac once and he’d looked at them like they were insane.

Now, when they let go of themself, all they became was static. The worst part was they didn’t hate it any more. They melted into it effortlessly, and they could almost pretend they were a bit of algae in a rushing river, or a leaf swirling through a hurricane. That the world beyond was right there waiting for them and when the wind stopped they’d be able to feel it again.

The wind didn’t stop. But something started. 

If he’d felt this in Dallas, he’d get the team away from whatever it was immediately, assuming it wasn’t the middle of a game, and approach carefully. Sometimes it was something he could handle - an angry wild animal that just needed a meal or a way back to its den. Other times, it was something best kept away from entirely, like the time a cloud of poisonous pollen had hovered over second base for a while, making practice that day incredibly inconvenient. Either way, a cause for alarm.

But danger meant nothing here. Any fear was overwhelmed by his relief at feeling something else besides just him and Vi, something that reminded him of nature.

And she was in his face all at once, fearsome, and chaotic and gray-green, nightshade poking out from her brancklike arms, wearing an ornate and colorful gown that looked like it came from a century or two ago.

He blinked. “Lady?”

“Nat??”

Lady Park of the Hawai’i Fridays. The only other player he’d met with origins similar to his. A spirit who’d grown from the wild to become an individual of their own, and even picked up some gender along the way, if a different one from his.

Lady’s aggression simmered down into a manageable current of bubbling violence, and Nat’s own alarm retreated into his usual awareness of the impermanence of everything. 

“How are you here?” he asked.

Lady shrugged and replied in their deep, resonant voice. “They used me to charge the Microphone, same as you.” They swished the skirt of their gown with a flourish. “Perhaps with both of us here, we can get an ecosystem going.” they said, a grin in their voice. “We can be the primary successors, staking out life in the static. It cannot possibly be worse than emerging through the concrete of New York City, can it?” 

Lady had been a wanderer. According to Pavo, who always liked to scope out the competition, no one knew where or when she’d come from, just that she’d picked up a taste for bagels in New York, and she’d apparently only joined the Fridays on a whim because they’d played a game in a park she’d been resting in one day. Nat guessed it made sense that this was just another frontier for her. Though even with her ferocious passion, he could sense the hollowness behind it, the bark of a dog too weak to bite anyone.

“Nothing grows here.” Nat said simply. Which didn’t help matters. Lady rolled her eyes.

“Hey,” she said mockingly. “My name is Nathaniel Wilds, and the reason I’m so good at blaseball is I literally swing like I’m about to die because I’m so obsessed with everything ending.”

Nat might take offense to that if he had a single shit left to give, and if he didn’t find it mildly ironic that Lady was saying all this when in all likelihood, they were both dead already. “What do you suggest, then?” he asked instead, keeping his voice even.

“Stop standing here, to start.” Lady looked him up and down and he could see the illusion of spiky leaves bursting around them and disappearing. “This place follows no rational rules. Why must you stay so rigid?”

True, there was nothing stopping them from moving. But also, why? They weren’t even supposed to exist any more, why should they be moving when Pavo and Silas and Mac and all the rest…. weren’t.

They would stay, a monument in the static to those lost, until time finally caught up to them and-

WHOOSH!

Something whizzed past their face and they jumped.

“Ah. So you’re capable of motion after all.”

“What was that.”

Lady didn’t answer the question. Instead, she locked eyes with Nat. “You’re wrong. Things do grow here, just not the sort of things we’re used to.” On cue, a mass of vines curled into being from her fingertips. They weren’t real. They were like Violet’s flower, no real substance, but they curled tighter and tighter until they were a single sphere that fit in the palm of her hand. “And I did not find you here simply to see you fade away.”

She crouched, entering a familiar position, that of a pitcher, readying a throw.

“Now then. What will you do, Nat Wilds?”

Lady threw, and on instinct - as static solidified, wood-like, in his hands, and an exhilarating and not unpleasant rush flowed through him - Nat swung.

Lady’s gambit had gotten Nat’s blood flowing. He’d thought he’d cling to his place like a lichen on a rock, but now he was moving. He heard the music that still drifted through. He heard Vi, and discovered they were one of a whole group of kids here under some bullshit circumstance Nat couldn’t understand except that it was horrible, along with one adult they all called Quitter. Who seemed to do something between watching over them and further enabling their shenanigans. He could relate. There hadn’t been children on the Steaks, but there had been shenanigans.

The kids seemed almost used to it here, doing all sorts of things with the static Nat couldn’t follow. They went off in their own directions then reconvened. To mess around or argue or do shit together. Like a team. They all had a similar feeling to them. A defiant brightness that diffused, each in different ways, through a suffocating sadness, suns through the leaves of a thick, dark forest. He listened to them because there was nothing better to do, even if most of the words made little sense. Sometimes he offered Vi a smile, or a “How’re you?” What was the harm? He didn’t exist anyway, might as well be nice.

The other “static charges” were here too. A few Nat knew, a few they didn’t, and a colony of stinkbugs, which were collectively the static charge of the Kansas City Breath Mints, apparently. Whatever that meant, it was nice to have bugs crawling around. When there were bugs crawling around, it made it slightly easier to pretend this wasn’t an endless void.

Of all the charges, one seemed especially charged. Carolina Correct met them with determination. 

“Nathaniel Wilds, right?” He nodded. “I’m glad you’re real too. That’s reassuring.” They smiled, but what the hell? He’d never felt less real than he did now. “Carolina. I played your team a few times.” They gave Nat a slight smile. “Your field was beautiful. I even envied it a little. I always hoped one day gardens could regrow in Wapakoneta, too.” They sounded deeply sad. 

“I remember you. Fought the storms in Ohio, right?”

The day the Steaks had first visited Ohio was day 97, the end of their first full season. Almost halfway through. A shift to more time passed than they had left. And each strike of the stark pink lightning over the Worms’ ballpark just emphasized the point. Carolina, silhouetted against the harsh light, a flurry of motion and action, his wings beating against the reverb, swooping down through the pulsing atmosphere to pull people away from harm, even helping the jeering fans screaming at him about some failed at-bat. The sight had stirred some kind of emotion in Nat. 

And Carolina hadn’t changed. Maybe because the static was its own storm. She nodded, decisively. The sadness in her voice turned into something cooler, sharper, but not without compassion. “And I lost. I’m not afraid to admit it, we all did the best we could. But we lost.” 

There was silence, for a moment. Or whatever passed for silence when everything was noise.

“It’s alright though, I’ve learned from all of it! And this might just be the real battle after all, so I won’t roll over and give up!”

Again, Nat didn’t respond. What was there to fight in here? Each other? That would suit Lady, maybe, or some of the kids, but he didn’t see the point in it.

“It’s fine. No pressure.” Carolina buzzed with nervous energy. “Um, this is a lot! But hey, I’m here, and I will find us a way out. If you ever want updates, or want to help, come and find me.”

Then, in a flash of light and noise, she was gone.

Their time here felt like fragments, a series of disconnected images and feelings in a deluge of static. A rat dancing her heart out - they watched with a few others, applauded when it was done, flickered somewhere else without really meaning to. Lady chatting casually with someone about nightshade. A catlike robot yelling excitedly about deicide. Link Rodriguez, a Spies player he vaguely remembered, came up to him and called him “Breath of the Wilds”, (some nickname the fans had given him?), then asked if he owned a sword. Weird question. He did not.

“Ha! Didn’t really expect you to, but you were a good batter, right? Maybe you’d be good with a sword.”

Nat shrugged. He wasn’t sure those two skills were transferable. And was starting to get dragged along by the cracking background sounds again when-

“Hey, wanna hang with me and some of the others? Cara can set you up with some popcorn. It’s just static shaped like popcorn, but it works if you miss eating?”

He did miss eating, but popcorn wouldn’t help with that. A stupid thought came to his mind. Normally, he’d leave the terrible jokes to the other Steaks. But he guessed now the duty fell to him.

“I photosynthesize. Wouldn’t happen to have any Sun Chips, would you?”

Link laughed. “No, sadly, we don’t. Man, if we had actual snacks it’d be great, you could dip Sun Chips in Capri Sun for double sun.”

That seemed off, but he didn’t know enough about how either of those things tasted to argue. And Link was kind, Nat could tell. Part of him did want to stay, but- 

“Ya can’t fault them” Pavo had said once, smiling sharply, about the regulars to the casino. “Same way you can’t fault bugs in a spider's web. The trap is so damn alluring.” 

And Nat hated it, but he could understand it. The hypnotic lights, the constant noise, the promise of something better, just around the corner, if only you played one more round…

“Maybe another time.”

Being in the static wasn’t unpleasant any more, at least. It was almost the mirror image of their existence before they were Nathaniel Wilds, back when they were simply nature, rolling on. Except instead of everything real and physical, they were everything that couldn’t exist, completely fucking incompatible with the world. Maybe if Nat squinted, all the misfits in here were a big dysfunctional ecosystem too, but it didn’t matter. None of ‘em could ever do anything again.

“Whose bones? Not ours, we rent!”

…Wasn’t that a blaseball chant? They listened. It was the kids, seemingly reacting to a blaseball game. What the fuck.

“Tycho! Let’s grow!” Violet cheered.

He concentrated. And sure enough he heard something. Felt something. Saw something.

The layers of static resolved into a flickering image. A batter on roller skates at the plate. The ball shot toward them and-

STRIKE!

They didn’t move.

Tycho Bale strikes out looking.

The kids exploded into chaotic dismay, except one. “Yeah! Screw winning, destroy capitalism!”

“Thirteen. It’s trying its best!”

Trying to watch the half-there-half-not game was giving Nat a headache. He let his eyes zone out and the hazy shapes fell away, but he still listened to the updates that seemed to beam their way into his mind. Was… was this game happening now?

Bottom of the 4th, Dallas Steaks batting.

Nathaniel’s heart stopped. Every leaf and rivet in them was suddenly on edge. They felt hot and cold and prickly all at once.

Mac, Silas, Livers, Leslie, Orlando, Cobra, Gramps, Emily batting. Please. Please!

Cort Gaughan batting for the Steaks.

Of course. Why had he expected anything else? They were all well and truly gone. Gone and replaced too. As if they’d been nothing at all. 

An awful noise rang over the static. Vi was next to him suddenly. Oh. Nat himself had been the one to make that noise.

“What was-? Nat? What’s wrong? Is… is it the plants? I wish I could help your plants, but…”

He didn’t care about the stupid illusions of plants. He cared about his friends. They were gone forever.

Violet was talking, concern in vir voice, but the noise quickly drowned vir out entirely.

Being in the static wasn’t unpleasant any more. But the thoughts that replayed over and over of their entire team vanishing from existence? Those were. Their mind created every version of how it might have happened. Sometimes the team is huddled together, sobbing. Other times they’re scattered around Dallas, each alone, besides Yorrick’s Gramps holding him tight and Lola and Livers’ hands clasped together. Sometimes Gramps stays behind, has to watch his grandkid fade into dust. Other times, Yorrick sees Gramps start to disappear and shouts in a heartbroken rage “you shouldn’t have come here!” Sometimes, Silas floats on a lake peacefully, until their rest is shattered by something that strikes and destroys them and there are tears in their eyes in their last moments. Sometimes Aubrey frantically dives into that same lake, hoping to reach Atlantis and see her ex one more time. She never makes it. 

Sometimes, Mac Guildenstern is alone in the forest that used to be all of Nat’s existence. Though that was probably self-centered, imagining Mac would want to be there of all places. Sometimes he’s laughing, making some irreverent, very Mac comment like “Fuck it, I’ve died once before, how bad could it be?” but the laughter is a facade and Mac can’t hold the performance. Other times he screams. Each and every one of the Steaks scream in excruciating pain all at once as they’re ripped apart into shreds that become the static itself, an endless screaming still pushing in on Nat.

It’s not. It’s just noise. They’re gone now. At least their pain’s over now. Everything fades eventually. Everything fades eventually. 

And it wasn’t just the Steaks. Nat couldn’t see the world outside the static, couldn’t get much more than play-by-plays of blaseball games, but information traveled. All the old teams had been replaced completely, and the world was in a bad shape. Sea, fire and snow. Ships and trains, nomads pushing through chaos.

“I’d love to see what could grow by the edge of a molten sea, wouldn’t you?” Lady couldn’t see it either, Nat could tell by the face she made, like a gambler trying to figure out how to beat the odds. Impossible, since the house always fucking won. “Alas, you were right. We are… disconnected.”

Maybe at some other time Nat would have felt a little smug at the other nature spirit admitting he was right. But that was the least of their concerns now.

“What’s it matter if we’re here or there?” 

Because now it wasn’t even just their team dying on replay in their mind. It was all of Dallas lit aflame by debris from a molten sky. The rest of the world ravaged too, until there were only a few remnants floating to the surface. And those remnants just kept the cycle going, didn’t they? They were all still playing, risking incinerations, doing whatever bullshit their team management made them do, because it was the only damn option, until the world ended again and it all started over.

Why was Nat even surprised? He’d felt things die over and over in his forest and he welcomed their corpses. He’d known better than anyone, that everything would end one day. 

“Nat. I’m sorry.”

Lady’s voice broke through his thoughts, and she put a hand on his back, thorns receding. She really was trying to comfort him, much as she wasn’t exactly the comforting type. It threw him off, made him ache. But no matter how much she tried-

“It’s all gone.”

Lady looked at him, compassion in their fierce eyes. “Gone, indeed. But we push ever on.”

Nat went back to not moving again. They weren’t supposed to push on. They weren’t supposed to even last this long.

“How am I so sure I’m going to disappear?” the little beaver had asked back in Dallas in the very beginning, tears in their eyes. Nat knew their name was Silas Otterly, the same way they somehow knew the names of everyone else in this strange group. Before this, they’d been just starting to test the motion of walking with their new limbs. Trying to understand where the line that separated them from the rest of the forest was. And now they were separate, and it was fucking scary, so they focused on what they could see. The walls were bare, but the room was a buzz of everyone trying to catch their bearings, mostly strangers, all wearing the uniforms of a team they hadn’t joined.

“I’ve never been sure of that before?” Silas continued. “Have I?”

Nathaniel didn’t know. They had always been sure they’d disappear. Everything did, eventually. But-

We have two seasons. That’s it. How do I know that? Decay shouldn’t be so predictable.

They’d barely figured out how to exist as an individual being yet, and already, there was a big wrong thing on the horizon. They’d wanted to fall to the floor and sob the way they’d seen humans do, but this body wasn’t capable of it, it would come out all wrong. 

“There isn’t a reason to do anything, is there?” Silas asked, staring blankly at a wall, before looking back at everyone else. “It’s all going to end the same anyway…”

“Well!” Mac Guildenstern. The only one here Nat already knew, kind of. He squirmed, clearly uncomfortable, then plastered over the discomfort. “Can’t argue with that I guess, but doesn’t that mean you can just do what you want? Go big, no consequences!” He was a terrible actor, but there was some emotion in there that wasn’t completely fake.

Silas considered this. “But… I want to not disappear.”

Something broke in Nat, filling them with feelings they hadn’t yet learned to describe. Feelings the rapidly overpowered the despair. These strangers needed him. Maybe this - they suddenly felt everything viscerally, like time was slowing. Every sensation reverberating through them. The sound of the wind, the coolness of the autumn air, each grain of wood in every floorboard, and all of it, only barely observable from this frail little body. It was heady and overwhelming and beautiful and despite everything the realization that they were here, that they were a person! hit them with a bubbling wonder. They were here and that meant they could help, really help, because they knew what it meant for the seasons to pass and the leaves to die. Fuck. They were here and they knew it would hurt, but they wouldn’t exchange it for anything.

They met Silas’ eyes and felt a shiver in that connection, the depth of it. Was this how people and animals felt all the time? Constantly seeing and being seen to their very core, every interaction a focused beam, drowning out the whole of the world to rest on one single soul? No wonder people seemed to see themselves as so important. At a moment like this, it was near impossible not to, even with the whole of nature so much larger than them now.

“Listen to me.” Nat said, their voice strange and untrained, but theirs. And Silas did. “Living is a reason in itself. Just living means… so… much.” They could feel their own breath as the words left their mouth. Rusted machine parts vibrating against a mass of branches and leaves, the movement of air through them.

“So let’s live.”

They’d never felt so fragile, not even on the coldest winter’s day, with the frost biting through their branches relentlessly. It was terrifying, and they wanted to feel this way forever.

Mac gave them a look. There was relief in it, Nat thought.

Silas said nothing. Paced around. Stopped. All eyes were on them, like whatever they did next would define the Dallas Steaks’ whole fate, even when they knew full well their fate was already defined.

“Okay.” Silas said, quietly. Firmly.

And that was it. A simple word, but enough to break the spell and set them all on their course, Silas up to the window to peer out at the sun hanging low in the sky, conversations starting up in fits and spurts then flowing like a rushing river. Introductions and questions, even a peal of laughter from somewhere. Forward fucking motion and Nat, still completely in awe of it all. 

Mac came up next to them, a tentative twinkle in his eye, and spoke in the most over-the-top voice he could muster. “Nathaniel Wilds, as I live and breathe. So fair and foul a day I’ve never fucking seen. We’re going to shake this place up, aren’t we?”

Every damn sensory input in Nat’s mind was still screaming, amazed at the sheer amount of life in this room, and how strange it felt to be such a small part of it and yet have such a large impact on it, just by saying something. To Silas. To their team. Somehow, they were on a team. They were everything they ever had been squeezed into one tiny person-shaped thing and they were on a team, and they had two seasons to make the most of it. So what else was there to say?

“Oh, we will.”

And damn it, we did. We really fucking did. It was bullshit, but we never let them break us.

The rest of the Steaks could disappear peacefully, knowing they’d done the most they could. Every breath, every stupid dad joke, every moment of enjoyment they’d grabbed in the middle of hell had been a perfect, fleeting rebellion. 

But Nat was left here to admit defeat. He alone had let himself be broken.

Except his team would never agree. 

“You’re doin’ fine, kid.” Orlando would say, and Nat wouldn’t mind despite not being a kid. Livers would probably do some science. Measure the chemical composition of the static or something, some attempt to prove that it wasn’t an easy place to exist, so he didn’t have to feel bad about it fucking him up. Lola would cheer her on, maybe drag Goodie in as well, get xem to help her put on some magic show that was so bafflingly incredible that no one could watch it and not feel at least a little better.

Mac… they didn’t even try and imagine what Mac would do. It hurt too much. 

Nat sighed. None of this fucking helped. But something in them that was still a rolling cycle told them they had to persist. Their friends sure as hell couldn’t.

Everything was all fragments again, even more jumbled in the noise. Someone talking about being friends with a tardigrade (Silas could easily be friends with a tardigrade). The kids, setting the stinkbugs off on a race (He could imagine Emily commentating the whole thing in her game show announcer voice). Link trying to stay strong until they collapsed into tears about how they'd never been prepared for any of this shit (Orlando would offer them a cup of coffee and some kind words, but Nat couldn’t do either of those, not now. So he offered them a stupid staticky projection of a flower. Better than nothing. Or maybe not).

Carolina rambled at Nat about the static. They tried to nod along, at least pretend to listen, but most of what he said sounded like gibberish to them. A few words stuck here and there. “it’s all sound… perceive sight and touch… just our brains adapting to being here, and like-” A loud hiss cut Carolina off and he yelped. Even Nat jumped a little.

“Hi Lady. Yeah, I think you may have improved your water snake imitation. Thanks for at least waiting until almost the end of my explanation this time, though I could have used another minute…”

“My pleasure.” Lady curtsied, and grinned like a smug cat. The two of them laughed. Nat didn’t know how they did it.

Then he was at a “watch party” of some ongoing blaseball game he couldn’t actually see. Link offered him some “popcorn”. He tried it. He figured he should try things. But it was jarring, made his mouth feel fuzzy. He vastly preferred soaking up the sun.

No sun here. No moon. No stars. No earth.

He drifted away. Then, something else.

Catcher's Mittens blessed the Boston Flowers.

Nat could make out Violet's voice: “Nice! I hope that keeps them warm in the snow…”

Blessings. So it was an election then. If they start charging players into the mic… He was going to flip the fuck out. Except he wouldn’t. He didn't even have the energy for that.

Ball Blood blessed the Houston Spies.

“Fuck it, we ball!” Link shouted. Maybe, just maybe, it would be alright. Maybe these new players would be spared the wors-

TASTE THE INFINITE blessed the Ohio Peanuts. THE OHIO WORMS WERE REMADE IN THE IMAGE OF THE SHELLED ONE

An angry wail from somewhere in the static. All the kids, even a few Nat usually barely saw, were next to Quitter in an instant. Quitter, whose eyes were blazing with anger and pain. “Was it all for nothing?” they screamed. “The fucker finally got destroyed! And now… now…” They screamed. “Why can’t things just be okay? For someone, for a minute!!”

One of the kids put a hand on Quitter’s shoulder. “Breathe. Please?”

Quitter gulped, nodded. “Jas. Gods fucking damn it… I-”

“No, it’s okay. See, we’re going to be the ones to damn the fucking gods!” Jas said, trying to smile.

“Agh, no! I mean shit, I’m all for deicide, but you shouldn’t- please don’t get anywhere close to that thing, Jas. That goes for all of you.  I- It’s not like I’m gonna give up or anything, but. Shit.” They turned away, trying and failing to hide their tears. “I… but if that thing’s back there’s nothing I can… what’s even the point?”

Nat met Violet’s eyes. Ve looked terrified. Nat wished he could help, but he didn’t know Quitter, didn’t understand what any of this meant, except that something was terribly, terribly wrong.

He did understand the despair. It was the same for him. Every awful thing was just like every other awful thing before. Watching patrons blow all their life savings at the casino. Watching Chester Grey burst into flames (he hadn’t known them, but he made a point to remember their name). Watching his friends disappear. Watching nothing but stupid static as the world outside was ravaged by fire and ice.

Never anything that could be done.

Fuck that, that’s not the Nat Wilds I know. Shan’t thou raise a bud of green in the heart of inferno? Come on, take that spite and make it grow things, like you’ve always done!”

Oh, sure, now they decided to imagine Mac talking to them. How was it that Mac had the worst godawful timing even when he didn’t even exist? That wasn’t even a real Shakespeare quote, just some garbage their brain spat out in a weak imitation. It was All. Fucking. Wrong.

Except.

Mac would push him toward whatever little stupid meaningless thing he could do, wouldn’t they?

Of course. Throw a wrench in the works, Nat. If nothing else, it’ll be fun, won’t it?

Nat sighed, and lumbered toward Violet. They thought of Goodie and Lola’s illusion work, and concentrated. 

“They, they don’t even have birds there!” Quitter was saying desperately. Those words entered Nat’s mind and jiggled around.

They were used to effortlessly springing plants up from the ground back in Dallas. This wasn’t Dallas. This was pure sound or something, according to Carolina, but nature had so many sounds, so Nat held to that.

The sound of a breeze, of grasses rustling in it, the leaves of trees shaking and celebrating.

“Nat…!” Vi said, hope in their voice. They took his hand, and now violets too swayed in the grass.

The sound of crickets chirping, bugs sending each other signals.

There seemed more bug sounds than he’d actually imagined. Oh. Some of the stinkbugs had joined in. Fine.

The sound of wings beating against the sky, rhythmic, in formation.

Nat went further, deeper, into the soundscape he was weaving. The tiny, barely noticeable frequencies given off by every single thing and-

The song of a single bird.

They couldn’t create this perfectly. It would be like trying to imitate someone’s voice, when they couldn’t even make their own voice sound exactly human. But they tried. Probably sounded more like electrical chirps than bird chirps but… maybe more than one, layered?

A chorus of birds. Together. A rallying cry to look out for one another.

A cacophony of chirps over chirps, modeled after the calls of various birds he could remember from Dallas to Boston, and everywhere between, the bugs and wind and wings still beneath.

His eyes were screwed shut. He was afraid if he opened them it would all fizzle to static. Or worse, he’d realize he hadn’t actually been projecting any of this sound out, just futilely imagining it.

Then Violet started singing. 

A song he’d never heard before - something about birds not wanting blood? - but he liked it, he thought. Other voices joined in, the song slowly building up.

It was hauntingly unfamiliar and exactly like something the Steaks would do on a sad day as the end approached. Nat ached for home so much he almost dropped the illusion. But he couldn’t. Not yet. Instead he tried to tune his own weak, fake birdsong to their melody. Let himself really feel that they were all just in a forest, making music with the birds.

Then another voice joined the fray, strong and harsh.

“And you will get your just rewards, when the final run is scored.”

Quitter. Grim but singing nonetheless. The kids murmured. Emotions mixed in the air. 

See? There you are, Nat. Still here, and still pretty damn good.

And then, only then, did Nathaniel Wilds conk out.

When he came to, they all thanked him. Violet and Quitter and the kid named Jas. Some of the others who’d been around and said it meant something to them too. Lady grinned at them like they’d finally done something right.

But nothing changed.

Whatever great lifting melody Nat had felt flowing through him had abandoned him now. Left him drained. Everyone was even sadder now, once the stupid high of his stupid little show faded. Even the stinkbugs were up to less mischief than usual. All his effort had done was remind everyone what things could be if they were better, only to take it all away.

Basically: he’d just fucking made things worse.

Nat tried to listen. Failed to listen. Said even less than they had before. Watched Lady manifest something in the shape of a peanut and then promptly pierce it with all manner of poisonous thorns. That at least, was enough to spur Quitter to ready a bat, put the next peanut illusion through a world of pain. 

He was sure that didn’t matter either. Lady had invigorated Nat too when she’d first found him, and he already felt numb again.

Violet sat quietly with him a few times. They didn’t talk much, and especially not about the awful things happening beyond the static, which was probably for the best. Those moments were the closest Nat had to feeling something resembling normal.

Then he heard thunder, and something clicked into place.

“Carolina.” He said, getting up, decisively. She was from the Worms. Shit, this peanut thing…

He didn’t like that he was doing this again. Checking the names of everyone he knew against the latest crisis, trying to figure out who needed a sturdy tree to rest. It was stupid, planting seeds that you knew would wither away. 

“Wait.” Vi was suddenly in front of him. “Are you going to be okay?”

Did it matter?

“Probably.” Nat said, and moved past Vi, toward the crackle of lightning.

They felt like they were right back in Ohio. Raging thunder, dark clouds. And in the center of the swirling tempest was Carolina Correct, the storm. 

“Hey.”

The chaos didn’t stop as Carolina looked to Nat. “Nathaniel?”

“Yeah.” He wished he could come up with something better to say.

Carolina shut her eyes, electricity arcing around her, and shook with effort.

“Carolina? What’re you-”

She screamed, her voice mingling with the static, then spoke, as the scream still rang out. “I’m sorry. I’m just trying to reach them. I can’t reach them. They’re on a ship in the ice and the weather keeps hitting them and a god has changed them and I couldn’t warn them about anything, because they can’t hear me!”

Carolina wasn’t okay. But then again, neither was Nat. He didn’t know what to do. For all he’d acted like some kind of wise and steady leader back in Dallas, had he ever really known what to do?

“A good rescuer should rest, right?” he asked, realizing how hollow that sounded as soon as the words came out of his mouth. Especially considering he’d just blatantly ignored Vi telling him the same thing.

“There’s no rest here.” Carolina said, and Nat couldn’t even argue, because they were right. They were practically luminous with lightning now. Nat might’ve been intimidated, but something about the whole thing made him so fucking sad instead.

He tried to focus. Just a single fake flower. Some pretty distraction. Even it would only help things for a second. He could feel something tiny beginning to hum, but his hands were shaking and he felt drenched, though there had never been water here.

“It’s alright, though.” Carolina said, his voice faint through the noise. “In the end, it probably doesn’t matter.”

The bud died in Nat’s hands. He couldn’t argue with that. He couldn’t.

“But-” and with this, Carolina smiled the smile of someone in immense pain “I guess maybe we don’t have to worry about the Worms or the Peanuts or anything. Since none of it’s real!”

Nat just stared. “What.”

“I mean, if the chatter I heard’s true, guess what’s on the next election? That’s right! Each team gets a static charge!”

Oh. For fuck’s sake! But that still didn’t explain-

“So there we have it!” Carolina went on, their words pouring out like a waterfall. “I thought maybe we were finally seeing something real! We charged the Microphone, right?”

Nat felt very, very uneasy.

“But nope! It’s just another trick. Another illusion, just like our world!”

Nat didn’t respond. Not out of confusion this time, but because they didn’t want to say something they’d regret. Finally, they looked Carolina dead in the eyes, hoping desperately that they’d misunderstood.

“You’re saying our world was fake?”

“Yes.” He said it matter-of-factly, but his voice broke a little on the word. “I though you knew? Didn’t you see the way our whole world just faded? But for some reason, the Microphone took us out! It made us real! I don’t know why, but that has to mean something!”

For a moment, everything seemed to stop. It was just the two of them in a big nothing. Nat couldn’t bear it.

“How dare you.”

His voice was dangerous. A million thorns, pointed in Carolina’s direction. He could see them so, so clearly. Storm gear still equipped like they were about to walk into a tornado. A petty part of him wished they would.

They looked crestfallen. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to say it didn’t matter. I…”

Too late. Nat thought, bitterly. He sneered.

“Everything decays. Everything. You will too. That make you fake? They’re fucking gone and you want to invalidate their whole existence too?”

“I- “

“No. Leave.”

At the very least, Carolina could take a hint. She vanished, taking the whole storm with her and leaving Nat alone with their thoughts.

The worst thought was this: Maybe none of it was real. Maybe it had all just been an illusion spun up by a stupid, lonely mass of plants who yearned for companionship, even when they were connected to the whole damn earth.

Maybe a being as selfish as them deserved all this.

“Lady, I need you to be honest.”

“Well, you look terrible, Nat. But of course I’ll tell you the truth. Do you know me to be a liar?”

Didn’t matter. If anyone would know, it was her.

“Did our world ever exist?”

Lady seemed to stare deep into his soul. He could hear her staring, and it sounded like water rushing through an echo-y tunnel, reverberating through him.

Finally, she spoke. Her voice was neutral, and that scared Nat more than her loudest hiss.

“I’m inclined to believe it did. We both remember it. We can both still imagine it. And we learned from it, did we not?”

That was almost a relief, except Lady wasn’t finished.

“But, in all honesty… I don’t know.”

“Y-you don’t?”

“I know it is certainly gone now. Some saw it for a moment after they were charged, but then it ceased to be. Replaced soon after with this new world of fire and ice.”

Oh. Then Carolina had been right about that. Nat’s world didn’t even get the courtesy of being destroyed by extreme weather. His forest, not even charred remains. Just nothing. 

Nat whimpered. It felt like a piece of him had been ripped out.

Lady continued. “It’s horrid, but we live on the edge now, watching whole worlds like volcanic eruptions, lava cooling, life grasping, reaching, thriving, until it all sinks back into the sea. What does it mean for something to have been real, when it isn’t now? There is only forward, to the next new place to grow.”

Once, Nat could have accepted that. They hadn’t remembered every dead leaf that fell from their trees, hadn’t made a point to determine which rocks had been shaped deep within the earth, and which had been chipped apart from being thrown carelessly by an excitable child. When you were an ecosystem, what mattered was the material you had now, and how you could use that to persist.

But now that he’d lived in the very briefest of slivers of time, in the most fragile of bodies, everything mattered, and all he wanted to do was mourn for all of it. Even if it hadn’t been real. He didn’t care. He’d refuse to move on without them. Moving on only brought more suffering, more worlds destroyed. 

It was one thing to shine bright when your time was running out, but here in infinity, anything he did would only raise a false hope that would be inevitably worn away by time and cycles, and the next horrible piece of news that echoed through the static. He’d rather just stop. Pour everything he was into just remembering them, into keeping them safe as a part of him, like the life of the forest once had been. Even though it didn’t even work that way, because they were gone and he was only sound at the edge of the universe.

“Sorry, Lady.”

She had tried, she really had. And maybe she would find a way to sprout something in all of this barrenness. He hoped she would, really. But all he wanted to do was mourn. 

So he did. He retreated into the deepest, darkest part of the screeching-hissing-buzzing, and he mourned.

STATIC STATIC STATIC STATIC STATIC

Back when Nathaniel Wilds was the forest, people used to come to them with secrets. Secrets they needed someone to hear. They would hear, and the secrets would stay, tucked away within them like acorns stored for the winter. 

It was strange, that deep within a screaming emptiness, they could feel history repeating. People telling them things they couldn’t quite perceive, and certainly couldn’t respond to. 

It all faded into the background noise.

STATIC STATIC STATIC STATIC STATIC

“D’you know what I love about perennials? Every year, y-you think they’re gonna be gone completely. And you’re scared for them, and it’s… it’s sad, because you know you might never see them bloom. But then you come back. And, and… even if like, barely anyone can really like, know you’re there? It’s your home. And it’s spring. And then. Then you see them. The- the violets you helped plant. A-and you know it’s those very same ones, you just know. And you think they might know it’s you too. That you might just be noise now, but maybe the flowers remember you in whatever way flowers remember. ‘Cause flowers do remember.”

…

“Maybe the others don’t agree, but I have to believe that everyone… everyone in that black hole… my other siblings, and my team. I have to believe they’ll bloom again somehow, and they’ll remember. Because everyone thought we’d be gone, and - well, we kinda are gone. But we’re also… we’re here enough to care about each other I guess. So I’d like to think they are, just the same. And I’ll believe that about your friends too, okay? That they’re still somewhere? I- I don’t know their names but I’ll believe it for you even if you don’t. 

…

“That’s all I can… I wish I could do something more, but… we’re stuck here and the most we could ever do was say things. Just watch things out of our control and send something garbled back like, like total losers… But, um. I guess that’s still better than nothing? So… please be okay, Nat. That’s my message.”

STATIC STATIC STATIC STATIC STATIC

“Hey, Nathaniel? I’m sorry. I… it’s no excuse, but… I loved them, you know. And now… now it’s hard to say if that love was even real, and it’s kind of fucking me up! I… did I really spend a whole life in a world that was just some kind of… echo? We saved so many people from the storm, and I thought that mattered, that no matter what else possibly happened, that would always matter! But at best they’re all gone now, and at worst they never existed at all! I think that’s why… why I pushed so hard. Because. I was still touched by them, and I am real, I know it! So if I can make damn sure my life matters, then theirs can too. They can still touch reality through me! We can do it together, like we always have!”

…

“But it wasn’t right of me to drag you into this, Nathaniel. Ha, I probably shouldn’t even be burdening you with all of this now, so, sorry again! Though I don’t even know that you can hear me. I hope you can, because I came to apologize, and also, I thought I’d share something that I’ve remembered. It’s helped me calm down just a bit I think and... It’s something Manu told me once. They were one of my friends. Anyway, they always called me a utilitarian. Which is like, people who believe that an action is good if it results in something good. And I liked that! It’s a practical way to think, to always do the thing with the best results you can. But then told me about this other philosophy once, that the… ‘reduction of avoidable suffering’, I think is how they put it- that that’s always worthwhile. Even if there isn’t a very good result in the end, like if the person you’re helping will still die in the next moment. …They said that was corny, a stupid way to pat yourself on the back when you hadn’t actually solved the problem. But I… I do think they believed it more than they let on.”

…

“And I never got it, not till now, but… all of us here, we did reduce suffering! I saw your kindness, to your team… to the dying plants around our field that you helped regrow when you came for games. To everything, it seemed like. So, you know, if whatever Manu was talking about that day was right… even if it wasn’t real, even if you or I don’t succeed at doing anything real ever again… which I hope to not be the case, but… well, even if all of that, what we did still meant something. And I’m sorry, Nat, for ever thinking it didn’t.”

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“I miss them too. I was ready to settle in Hawai’i, and I was never before one to settle. Do you know what it is I did, after a game? I did not take the chance to fortify the thickest, spikiest bushes, or to enhance my lovely garden of poisons, or even to dive into the sea and swim with the jellyfish. No. I took Milo for an absolutely rollicking piggyback ride, after every victory and every defeat, for the last season and a half. The others watched with no small amount of concern, but when one is with me they’re safe from danger, for I am the danger. Milo never came to any harm, felt nothing more than the ecstatic excitement of a journey. Something to keep their mind off the umpires that glared menacingly at them during the game. With time, it became a ritual for the whole team, to keep our spirits up and vibes impeccable. I became important to them, and they to me. I did not kid myself enough to believe this would last forever. But that doesn’t make the ending easier.

So, all I am saying, Nat Wilds, is don’t think you’re the only one this is hard for. I simply choose violence, not resignation.”

STATIC STATIC STATIC STATIC STATIC

It didn’t stop. Even their memories were overlaid with static. But they remembered anyway.

They were halfway the forest and halfway something new. Animals approached them curiously, somehow sensing it, and it was a strange feeling, reaching out to place your hand gently on the head of a rabbit who’d curled up against you for comfort in the cold air and still feeling vaguely that your own head was the one being petted. For this brief and odd moment, they were both giver and receiver.

That might have been why they could perceive another being in the strange in between. It was a swirl of confusion and regret, something like a plant suddenly blocked from the sun just as it was about ready to bloom.

“The undiscovere'd country, from whose bourn no traveller returns.” Wrong. It’s the same boring ass country, I want my money back. 

The sort-of forest reflected on this odd sentiment that had reached them.

It is the same, but different.

I guess so. Whoever you are. You dead too?

No. Alive. Very alive.

How great for you. I’m very dead.

Death is part of life too. Something new will grow.

That’s fucking cryptic.

A frustrated leaf let go, drifting off one of the taller trees. This was… harder than expected.

I don’t mean it to be. I’m new to this.

New, huh? Good luck, bud. It’s a tough world out there.

I don’t doubt it.

Then nothing but the ambiance of the trees (and the endless ksssrrrrrtttttt, but that hadn’t been there when this really happened). The not-quite-forest almost thought the other presence was gone, until-

So I’ve just died and you’ve just been born. Something poetic in there if you squint, I guess.

Yes.

Mild frustration now, from the other being.

I’m just saying random shit, why are you even still reacting?

The forest breathed. Branches creaked, bugs buzzed, the wind cut a path through, jostling grasses and stems. And they could see the other being through the eyes they were only now beginning to understand. A human, but see-through, not fully there. Some large red coverings encased their hands, like the paws of an animal that had grabbed a pile of the brightest, mushiest berries it could find.

That’s what sentient beings do, isn’t it? Everything you say is worth knowing. It’s yours. And you have the privilege of being able to share it. 

The ghost squinted. They felt like maybe they’d done something wrong. That maybe the gulf of understanding between them was too wide. But then, then the ghost laughed.

Hell, how am I supposed to respond to that?

That was exactly what the not-quite-forest was still trying to figure out. The moss around their right arm thickened and something green shot up, twirling around them all the way up the branches growing from their head like a buck’s horns. Then, just as suddenly, it fell away, released onto the forest floor, a stem with berries as red as the ghost’s gloves.

If I weren’t already dead I’d think you were trying to poison me.

No. I was answering you. That was my response. An instinct.

Huh. The ghost seemed to look around the forest curiously, not quite knowing where to settle their gaze. Lucky you. But not all of us can just make scary looking fruits grow, you know?

I help plants grow. You help something else grow. You must be putting something into the world. I’m perceiving it.

Hell, I really could’ve used all this wisdom when I was actually alive.

Can’t you still?

Another laugh. Gah. Maybe.

The ambience (and static static static) overtook everything again, but they could now see the ghost was still here. They were glad for it. With great effort - they still weren’t used to moving a body - they stretched out an arm toward the ghost, held it there, hoping it wouldn’t collapse like a dead branch. Enough humans had met here that they knew this was a formal type of greeting between them.

The ghost floated down, looking curiously at the arm. So this is you. Interesting. Seems like you’ve already been through the ringer. You look like shit, you know that?

Decomposition may not be pretty, but without it, where would we be?

Who knows?

The ghost removed their right glove, took the overgrown robot’s extended arm with their transparent hand, and shook. Their hand was vague, not all there, but it was there enough for the not-forest to be able to at least feel it.

Mac Guildenstern. Their vibes became fancy, almost ornate for a moment, which was impressive considering the silly red thing that was still on their left hand. A true honor it is to make your acquaintance.

Their hands still touched. Neither quite seemed to want to let go.

And you are? the presence called Mac Guildenstern asked. The not-forest hesitated. How to get across what - no, who - they were?

They pictured the forest, seasons going by, leaves falling from trees, and dissolving into the soil, ice covering the ground and then melting and the green thaw of spring, and all of that, at the center inside of them instead of a beating heart.

I am… and then it wasn’t exactly a word but a feeling they tried to send across. The forests in its life, its movement, its everything- Wilds.

Wilds. Mac repeated, letting go of their hand, then hovering back and looking them over. It suits you.

STATIC STATIC STATIC STATIC STATIC

Now their existence was only a void, punctuated with secrets and memories that only served to make everything else emptier. Empty, empty, besides the humming hissing buzzing, constant and unchanging. Not loud enough to bother them, but never quiet enough to let them rest either. On and on and on and on. Nathaniel Wilds was fading away forever, but they would never fully fade. 

STATIC STATIC STATIC STATIC STATIC

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Then the new noise started. It was easy enough to ignore at first, it always ended eventually, but it just kept coming back. Unlike the static, it varied in pitch, volume, everything. His mind couldn’t place it in a box and seal it away, because it was always different. It made him remember exactly how wrong everything was, which was worse than just feeling the wrongness subtly echo through him.

It sounded like chirping, but it made Nat’s vines stand up on end. A bird in Dallas, he could feel the way its call resonated with every blade of grass in a harmonic fitting-together. This sound felt discordant. Off enough from what a bird was supposed to sound like that it shouldn’t have existed at all. 

It just kept coming back. He bore with it coming and going for a long while. It wasn’t worse than the ever present background noise. It could almost even be nice if it didn’t poke at him in just the wrong way. But it made him too aware. He didn’t want to be aware any more. So eventually, in a moment of frustration, he had enough.

“Whatdyawantfromme?” he shouted, words all shoved together like he wasn’t sure how to speak any more. It had been a while. Maybe he wasn’t.

“Oh! Oh you’re awake! That’s great.”

The chirp became a voice. It sounded strange, but at least it didn’t bother him as much.

“We haven’t met yet, so I’ve been wanting to introduce myself, but uh. Everyone seems to think you’ve “left the building” so to speak, but… I didn’t think you were dead, and I was right! You were just taking a good long nap. Oh, question- were you astral projecting? Because that’s what Annie thought! If you were, the two of you should share tips!”

Actually, the fucked up chirping might have been preferable to this word salad. Damn. For a soul fading from existence, they sure were loud. Weirdly cheery too. That only made it worse. Nat sighed, wondering why they were hearing this particular voice all of a sudden. By now, most of the others here didn’t bother, once they realized he didn’t respond to much anymore.

“Can’t help you.” Nat muttered. 

“I don’t need help! I’m Dimi! Dimi Wobbler! You’re Nat, right?”

It probably wasn’t worth responding. They were worthless, doomed, forever fading. But… fuck. They missed being acknowledged. Even by this bizarre bird-sounding thing.

Bird-sounding… It was then he realized he could see them too. And they were a bird, one with strange red and blue coloration. They were looking right at him, eyes shining.

Damn it. He sighed, and tried to make coherent words this time.

“Yeah. Nat Wilds.”

“Hi Nat! Wild to meet ya!”

Nat groaned at the Steak-worthy pun. He still wasn’t sure why Dimi was so excited. It also didn’t matter. Being not completely absorbed by static meant that he was rapidly feeling worse and worse every moment. Aware, again, of the complete hopelessness of everything.

“Nat? Are you okay?”

Of course I’m not! Neither are you! We don’t exist and we probably never will again! Nothing we do matters!

“Yes.”

Now they’d leave, right? 

They didn’t.

“Hmmm. Hm hm hm.” They hummed instead, and then chirped a bit again. The sound was grating and it made him homesick for the birds back in Dallas. “Oh, I know! Can I interview you?”

Nat looked at them. They seemed to be asking this sincerely, though for the life of him Nat couldn’t figure out why. Who were they, anyway? And why’d they want to know more about him of all people?

He surprised himself by actually considering it for a second. If only because it was a way for his team to live on. If he told Dimi stories about them, that would be one more person who knew who they were, who could remember them. Even in here, a story had to be worth something. And when it was done, then he could just fade away again and be gone.

But then he remembered what Carolina had said. His head spun. Would Dimi or anyone else even want to hear about a world that was at best gone, and at worst hadn’t been real to begin with? Why would they? It was dire enough in here without more fucking sadness about things that no longer mattered.

“No.” he said.

“Oh. Alright.” The bird looked disappointed, but didn’t move from where they were perched in the static, a couple of feet from his head. “You wouldn’t happen to want to interview me, would you? I promise I have loads of stories to tell!”

Nat shook their head. “No.” Then, after a moment of hesitation. “I don’t get why you’re asking me these things.”

Dimi inched closer, stared deep into his eyes. He felt something flicker, that feeling from so long ago when he’d had that first conversation with Silas, and something that never fully went away every time he locked eyes with someone after. It was a mix of a lot of things, but at this particular moment, fear won out. He quivered a bit, vibrating with the static, and closed his eyes.

“I won’t hurt you, I promise.” Dimi said, quietly. Nat hadn’t realized they were capable of being quiet. “I know some birds eat leaves and stuff, but even if I did need to eat here, I wouldn’t do that to you.”

He kept his eyes closed. It wasn’t about birds eating leaves, and he had the strangest feeling Dimi knew that too. They were both beating around the bush.

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“Technically it wasn’t a question. See, if you were to interview me, you’d want to make sure you actually asked a question.”

Now they were just being annoying. “You can say you don’t want to answer.”

Dimi chittered nervously. “Sorry, that was pedantic! Um. Do you really want to know?”

Nat considered this, but it was hard to consider when their eyes were closed and they could still see static. They sighed, and opened their eyes again to stare into Dimi’s, this time riding out past the spike of fear and into something else.

“...Yes.”

Why? It didn’t matter why this bird that screeched through his attempts at rest did whatever they did. Their eyes though. It was… it didn’t make sense. They didn’t know him. Why would they-

“Okay! Then I’ll show you. Let’s go!”

“What?”

But Dimi had already wrapped their wings around his arm, and was pulling on him with surprising force. “Come on!” 

Fine, then. At this point they just didn’t have the energy to resist.

“You know you don’t have to walk, right?” Dimi said as they hurtled altogether too quickly through the static. “You can literally just call out to anywhere and be there at the speed of sound!”

“I like walking.” Nat replied, trying to make their steps firmer for emphasis even though they were walking on nothing.

“Huh. Whatever floats your spaceship, I guess! Here we are.”

Nat looked around. Was this even somewhere new, or had they just gone in a fucking circle?

“What’s here exactly?”

“Nothing! But moving around helps me listen better. Like adjusting an antenna! So why don’t you try? Just listen!”

He listened. Hissing and sputtering. Same as it’d always been. 

“Why?”

“No. Like… really listen! Agh, that’s probably not helpful, how do I explain it???”

Nat shrugged. He was beginning to be frustrated, but he couldn’t blame the bird for trying. They seemed to be newer here after all. Must not have realized yet how fucked up the whole situation was.

They listened harder. Still the same. Fine. Soon enough the static would overtake them and they could float away aimlessly on it again.

“You hear that?” Dimi’s voice broke through.

“I hear static.”

“No I mean, that.” And then Dimi made a series of short chirps. Nat opened his eyes, to see them, deep in concentration, tilting their head, opening and closing their beak. The chirps were harsh, clipped, coming at a regular interval of about every second.

“Well now I hear you.”

They chirped a few more times, in the same defined pattern, and then stopped and looked at Nat expectantly. He shook his head. Still nothing but the background noise now that Dimi’d stopped.

“Really?” Dimi looked at Nat with shock. “You didn’t hear tha- oh wait I think it’s about to get interesting!” They stopped, frozen, as if waiting for something, then tilted their head up in silent laughter. Nat still heard nothing but the usual. Dimi looked at him probingly, and he shrugged. Dimi made a gesture with their wing that seemed almost like a shrug too, took a deep breath…

And let out a very chirpy “MEEEOOOOW!”

They looked at Nat, eyes sparkling. Nat stared back blankly. Maybe he’d been in here so long he was getting delusional. 

“You really didn’t hear that?”

“You meowing? Yeah I heard that.”

“No! I mean, glad you heard that at least, but you didn’t hear the sound I was imitating?”

Nat shook their head.

Dimi made a disappointed clicky noise with their beak. “It’s alright. You can probably hear it sometime if you want to, if you go closer to the action!”

The action? No, not anytime soon. They didn’t think they could bear listening to everyone talking and struggling and trying. Not when they knew they could never move on.

“Hey. You don’t have to go there! I figured you might not want to. It’s okay to be shy!”

It wasn’t shyness. Still heartening to know they didn’t mind. Again, Nat felt fear. He didn’t know why.

“Anyway, if you’re curious what that sound was, I’m pretty sure it was Tristen rebooting! It’s a pretty cool noise, I think if you sampled it and layered over a beat and a techno style melody, it could be a hit for parties! And then just- pause all the tracks, a half second of silence and bring the whole song back with the big meow! That’s how I know it was Tristen, couldn’t be anyone else with a meow like that! Or, well…” They seemed like they were somewhere else for a moment, but then shook their head vigorously and continued talking. “But yeah. Xe doesn’t actually have to reboot here, but I think it comforts xem, kinda like how I still like flapping my wings sometimes, even though I don’t have to. Oh wait! That’s why you wanted to walk, isn’t it?” 

Nat had maybe understood ten percent of that, but he wasn’t sure what was being asked of him, so he didn’t answer. Whatever he’d felt a moment ago had been replaced with mild confusion. He supposed that was an improvement.

“Sorry! I know! I got carried away! I should leave you be, right?”

Nat didn’t answer that either. Everything felt upside down. He wondered what his team would think of Dimi. Realized he had no idea. Didn’t even know what he thought of ‘em.

“Okay. I’ll be back again though, as usual. I mean, if that’s okay? Guess you couldn’t really answer me before, so I really should ask now.”

Oh. He had to say no. Nothing good could come from this. He looked up at Dimi, planning to tell them this. They were so small, but so vibrant, a bright soul against a harsh colorless backdrop. Emotion tore through him. Emotion would destroy him, it would make this a torture instead of a mildly unpleasant nap. That is why he had to say no.

“Yeah. That’s okay.” he said instead.

It was only much later, when he was alone again, that he realized Dimi never had answered his question.

Nat wasn’t sure Dimi would be back. Plenty of people said things they didn’t mean. And even if Dimi did mean it, they could easily get lost here. Wasn’t like this place had any landmarks.

But they did come back. And then they came back again. And again.

Nat was beginning to feel like days existed again. It was nice. Dimi was the sun: they always rose eventually. Then they left, until they returned. Like clockwork. Nat had never realized that clockwork didn’t have to be menacing, until now. Dimi’s visits broke up eternity into something more manageable.

Even the nights when the sun was gone weren’t terrible. The days gave them a lot to think about. Enough that at least they weren’t always only full of despair when the evening rolled around.

In the beginning, it was just like the first time, Dimi repeated sounds that Nat couldn’t hear, and Nat strained to try and find those same sounds in the gloom. He didn’t succeed, but at the very least he heard Dimi, who’d then explain what it was they’d relayed to him. Nat was almost fascinated. By how many unique sounds there still were. He’d… kind of assumed everything else would fade, the way he had. Why would anything here make noise any more?

He acknowledged Dimi like he’d acknowledge a particularly resilient tree. Thanked them for bringing him interesting sounds. He never said more than a few words at a time, but hoped it was enough to express something. At some point, Dimi started to match him, speaking in bits and spurts. Conversation built up, a tentative shoot of green through the snow.

“So, where are you from?”

“Near Dallas.”

“Oh, Dallas was near our migration path.”

They thought of migrating birds in flocks, flying directly above them. Birds coming down to perch and exchange songs of love and joy. They missed it dearly.

“Birds used to settle in my forest, sometimes.”

“Your forest?”

“My home.” Nat said, and left it at that. They didn’t have the energy to explain right now that they’d once… been the forest itself.

“My home always moved!”

“Oh.”

“It wasn’t bad. I got to see lots of places.”

“...Where?”

“Mexico, Texas, Nevada… the Hellmouth, Arizona…”

“Warm places.”

“Yeah. But then I went way further north than my family ever had. To Seattle, dreaming about music! That was cold. But worth it! …And then I went to space! That was cold too, and also worth it!”

…

“Space?”

“Yeah. I worked for a radio station. We broadcasted from space and that way no one could shut us down no matter how much we dissed the gods!”

“Openly rebelling.”

“Yeah!”

“...Sounds nice.”

At other times, even though Dimi’s arrival brought a bit of light, Nat still couldn’t bring themself to say even a single word. Dimi would float around them, trying to figure them out, then say softly. “Should I go?” Nat would shake his head, and Dimi would just… stay for a bit. 

They didn’t stay quiet for long though. They told stories, the tone of their voice going up and down, a rhythm of words and pauses and laughter. Though Nat couldn’t retain most of what the bird actually said. They’d find themself distracted by a memory, thinking of the time Livers had enlisted their help to find berries to dye their uniforms wacky colors, or how it had felt, floating along on a wooden raft Silas had built especially to help them enjoy the water without it damaging their body. They came back to the present feeling heavy, but that couldn’t last too long, because they were then immediately bombarded with Dimi.

“-because the ship’s captain was just a potted plant! Can you believe that? I guess you probably can, actually. I mean, the Station didn’t even have a captain, no second chair and all that-”

Even when Nat did manage to focus, he couldn’t always follow. Dimi told of worlds full of parties and peanuts and snow. And he knew what those things were, but here they seemed to have some further significance he didn’t get. Other things were completely beyond him. “Oscillators?” “Perihelion?”

But he caught the jist of things. Dimi told, in so many different ways, of life, growing out of decay. How the hell could they believe in that still? “Am I going too fast?” they’d ask. Or “sorry if I’m overwhelming you. I can stop.” But always, Nat shook his head, and Dimi said “alright!” and carried on.

He didn’t understand what motivated them. Why talk so much to someone who was only half listening, who was only half there? They’d still never given him an answer on that.

Dimi sang too. Human songs with lyrics, sometimes, but more often birdsong, loud and so fully there. Realer, it seemed, than anything else in this world. Nat could almost grasp the meaning behind it, almost more than they could grasp the meaning of the stories. But not quite. It had been a long time since the forest, since the times when birds’ calls were a part of their being that they could feel. Regardless, they listened. Sometimes the way Dimi’s voice sounded still bothered them, but they were quickly getting used to it. It was like their series at the Hellmouth, the way the whole place seemed completely inhospitable at first, but by the time the three days were over, they’d grown to appreciate the place's own strange brand of nature.

He started looking forward to hearing Dimi’s songs.

“Hi Nat!”

He’d spent the night thinking about his team again. He felt so heavy, and their voice was so light.

“Why are you happy?” Nat muttered.

“Hey, what kind of greeting is that?” Dimi said, but that was light too, they weren’t offended, really. “But you did actually ask a question this time, so, to answer it…” They paused for effect. “Because I’ve never been anywhere like this before, and there’s still so much to discover. This place follows different rules from earth or space! A whole world of sound waves… don’t you think it’s kinda cool?”

Uh, NO? But some weird fucking thing in them decided to consider it. Maybe it was because the way Dimi got them to listen before. They hadn’t heard the meow or anything else interesting, but listening to the static to really hear, not to cover something else up… It’d been a novel experience, they guessed.

“Don’t know.” they answered. And then, because they were curious in spite of themself. “What’s cool about it?”

“That’s a good question!” Dimi chirped. “I might not even have an answer! Maybe it’s just because I’m a sound nerd, and this feels like being inside a radio, and radios are full of so much potential. Loads of messages, waiting to get sent out! Back with my team I was the broadcaster, but now I’m the broadcast itself! It’s different!”

Back with their team. And that’s what Nat was stuck on, because Dimi had been chatting with them for days now, and they could almost believe the bird was happy, that they could love this… environment, even if he couldn’t. But…

“Your team.”

“Yeah! The Seattle Garages! Blaseball team and crew of the Climate Pledge Astrobiological Research Facility and Psychoacoustic Spaceport, aka the Station! Which studies space blanket octopi and definitely isn’t a cover for anything!” They looked at Nat conspiratorially, and chittered, quietly. “By which I mean it is very much a cover for the best pirate radio station ever. You won’t tell anyone, right?”

Nat shook his head, ignoring the ache that rose within him. That sounded way better than managing a casino. …Good for them.

Something else though. They’d talked about their team in the present tense.

“They’re not gone?”

“The Garages? Of course not! Nothing could take them down! I mean, I can’t get their signal any more, so I guess that makes them gone in a way? But that’s why I’m here, bringing the Station to places it couldn’t reach otherwise!”

Oh. They didn’t know, did they?

“No matter how good they are, the end of the world could take ‘em down. These worlds we hear are ending.”

He didn’t take pleasure in saying it. He didn’t want to see Dimi sad. But he’d want someone to tell him, if he didn’t know.

Stunningly, Dimi didn’t break into tears. Instead they let out a stream of bird sounds that almost sounded… exasperated?

“Come on! Why does 90% of everyone here not understand the basics of radio? The basics!!!”

Nat blinked, confused by this very sudden change in topic.

Dimi sighed. “Okay, crash course! Different radio stations broadcast on different frequencies. That means the sound waves they’re sending out peak more or less frequently, alright? And when you listen to the radio, the receiver uses a tuner to pick out one frequency at a time. You can only listen to the one you’re tuned to, and sometimes, when you aren’t tuned to anything at all, you get-” They spread out their arms dramatically, gesturing to the hissing expanse around them- “STATIC!”

Okay, he mostly followed that, but why were they-

“Just because you aren’t listening to a station doesn’t mean it’s not broadcasting. And the Microphone literally said it was tuning.”

Nat stared at them blankly.

“No worlds are gone! We just aren’t tuned to them right now! Everyone is fine!”

That “fine” sounded almost aggressive. But it was a theory. A weird one, but Nat honestly didn’t know enough about radio to argue, and Dimi sure seemed passionate about it. 

Maybe they were right. Still didn’t make Nat feel better.

“You don’t believe me.” Dimi said sadly.

“It’s not that, I… you could be right, maybe?”

“I am right. My world’s still around, and so is yours. I’m sure of it! We’ll both get to see our friends and family again, one day!”

Nat howled with pain they hadn’t so acutely felt since before they’d let the static cover them completely. In fact, that pain was why they’d let the static cover them completely.

“Nat?” Dimi came closer to Nat, outstretched a wing. An offer. Nat didn’t take it.

“No. No, I won’t. Dimi, I won’t.”

The bird looked really concerned. Damn it. “You can’t be sure of that, right? You never know, maybe-”

“Of course I’m sure!” Fuck, they were mad now. All this emotion was horrible. “I was sure of it from the moment I started existing as an actual person! We all were. We knew we were only supposed to last two seasons. And we only did last two seasons. Except me, I’m still fucking here!”

No one said anything, for what felt like far too long.

“I’m sorry.” Dimi finally squeaked out. “I didn’t know. But…” they trailed off. “Even if they’re dead…”

“Not dead. Worse. Gone.”

“Gone, then. I’ve seen someone come back from being gone. Really.”

Dimi didn’t understand. They couldn’t understand.

“It… it didn’t last. And I thought they’d come back again, except they didn’t. So maybe that’s not super hopeful. But I still believe in them! That maybe one day…” They trailed off. “Sorry, that probably wasn’t helpful at all! Can’t cheer anyone else up if I make myself sad, now can I!”

“Don’t cheer anyone else up. It’s not working anyway.”

Dimi shrugged. “The point is, things might not be as bad as they seem. And even if they are, they can get better?”

It was a question, not a statement. Not particularly reassuring. For the first time since Nat had met them, Dimi looked so damn vulnerable.

Nat held out a hand. Dimi stared at it for a while. Then tentatively, they held out their wing again, and this time Nat nodded.

Dimi wrapped their wing around Nat’s fingers, in some kind of hug.

From then on, they avoided the topic of worlds ending.

After two weeks of this, 18 days - or rather, 18 visits from Dimi, but he couldn’t help but ache to pretend this was a place where days and nights could exist - Nathaniel realized he couldn’t go back to perpetually fading.

On day 19, he sputtered a question at Dimi as they emerged like a spring bloom next to him. “Does anyone know- do- am I-” He didn’t know how to phrase it. The words he used to know had failed him.

Dimi chirped curiously. 

“Is there… if… damn it, I…”

“Take your time! You just gotta tune your thoughts to the right frequency, it’s okay.”

“The… if you… The people you talk about…”

“Yeah?”

“Someone’s still here. Lot of someones. Besides us. You told me about ‘em.”

“That’s right! They’re all pretty cool someones too!”

Neither said anything for a while, but then Dimi continued. “I can introduce you, if you’d like! Just didn’t want to throw too much at you, because then you might hide away again like Sandra and then I wouldn’t be able to talk to you!”

“Sandra?” He asked, choosing to ignore the other implications.

“She worked at the Station too, and she was really shy. I think I might’ve spooked her a few times at first, but we got along eventually!”

“Oh.”

That was nice, except now the other implications were hitting. Of course everyone else was still here, nothing here changed. Which meant... he’d made them all worry. All the people who bothered with him for some reason. Lady- though maybe she was better off without him dragging her down. Carolina… he still wasn’t sure she was right about the whole “everything is fake” theory, but she believed it as much as Dimi believed their theory, and that had to be tough for her. He’d been needlessly mean.

And Vi. They didn’t want to hurt Vi.

They also weren’t ready to face vir, or anyone else they’d met in here before. They couldn’t promise anything, couldn’t promise they wouldn’t just disappear again. Maybe it was for the best Vi moved on now. 

But at his very core, Nathaniel Wilds was, as Mac had once so eloquently put it, “a sap”.

“Two things.” He said.

“I’m listening.”

“If you can… find Violet in here, then…”

“Vi Mason? Yeah, I know them!”

“Tell them I’m okay. Please. And… I guess. Make sure they’re okay too?”

“Got it! The message will be relayed! And I think they’re fine, but I’ll check!”

And then there was Dimi, puffing up with something like pride to have a job to do. Nat just looked at them for a while, then made a noise like a sigh.

“There was a second thing?” Dimi asked.

“Yeah. Uh.” Nat wasn’t sure they could go through with this. They liked having days again. And they liked listening to Dimi. They were even starting to actually hear more of what the bird said. But they had to. They had to warn Dimi.

“Uh. I don’t think you should want to talk to me so much. Might not be here tomorrow.”

Dimi froze. “…What are you talking about. Are you dying? You can’t be dying, dying can’t even happen here!”

“I’m not dying. I just mean I’m not stable. I might zone out again. Don’t want to anymore, but…”

“Oh. Ohhh.”  The relief is clear in Dimi’s expression. “Well, I have good news, you don’t need to worry about that! You came out of it once, that means you can-“ They froze. “Well, the point is, you’re still here, and you aren’t dead, so there’s no problem!”

Nat couldn’t stop himself from dampening the mood. “Not alive either.”

“Well yeah, but I mean… that whole time when you were tuned out, you were still in there? I came to talk to you and I saw your plants moving, just a little! And that’s how I knew you weren’t gone!”

Oh. That make sense, now that he thought about it. That chirping that bothered him when he was still lost in thoughts and memories… how long had it come and gone for? How many days had Dimi come to reach out only to be ignored by the fucked up and selfish tangle that was Nat Wilds?

“I’m sorry.” He said.

“Why?” Dimi’s eyes widened. “Wait, are you worried about me? I’ll remind you that I worked at a radio station. I’m super used to just talking and no one responding, because I know the signal gets out! So even if you were out of it again… I’d miss hearing you talk, but I’d still love to talk to you, because it would get to you eventually, chirp!”

Nat said nothing. But they remembered those people they’d seen once and never again telling them secrets.

“It would. Damn, it did, even back when I was nature itself.”

His leaves were quivering again.

Dimi’s eyes were wide. “Wait, you were-”

“I need a minute.” They whispered. And then desperately. “See you tomorrow?”

That didn’t even make sense. There weren’t actually days here, much as he wished there was.

But Dimi… Dimi didn’t hesitate. “See you tomorrow!!” And they flew off into the static.

“Tomorrow” came, the same way as every day came, with Dimi Wobbler, bursting through the static. This particular sameness didn’t bother Nat.

And Dimi had news “I passed the message on to Vi. Ve’s doing fine, and ve was really happy to hear you were too! Also ve told me ve’d love to see you, but ve understands if you aren’t ready to poke out of the soil just yet.”

Good. They still weren’t ready to face everyone they’d turned away from, but, at least Vi seemed to be doing… well? Well as one could in this situation anyway.

“I offered vir to come with me to meet you” Dimi continued, “but ve wanted to wait. Ve’s got more patience than I do, I guess!”

Nat couldn’t tell if he was glad or disappointed Violet wasn’t here. They’d talk again though. Eventually.

For now, there was Dimi. They demanded more detail about Nat having been nature itself, and Nat obliged. They hadn’t gone this in-depth talking about that nature (pun very much intended, they were a Steak) of their existence this much, since… Mac. They’d forgotten how nice it was, exploring and remembering who they were.

Then, Dimi told him a story he hadn’t heard, about the epic music festival at the Core in their world, and he paid attention. Tried to imagine what’d be like to be in that Core, a planet of burning extremes, where folks celebrated and played ball before they’d need to take shelter from a heat that would scorch everything. Then after the heat passed, life would return. Dimi sang him one of the songs from the festival, a folk tune about dancing under a burning sky.

(They remembered the world where Dallas, too, sat beneath a sky on fire. They hoped the people there also found ways to dance.)

Nat listened, and made a point to react. “That was. Stirring.”

“Thanks! Credit where credit is due though, it was Atma Sycamore’s song, I’m just the messenger!”

Dimi Wobbler was the messenger for a whole lot of things, weren’t they? They still seemed, impossibly, excited about all of it. Yet they kept wasting their time talking to him, even when he wasn’t sure he’d ever be excited again. He wondered if Dimi only kept coming back out of obligation, worried he’d sink back into lonely nothing otherwise.

He made a decision.

“You think…” He trailed off. Everything felt uncertain. “Could I take you up on that offer? To introduce me to someone new?”

“Sure!” Dimi chirped. “Anyone in particular? Or from a particular team or anything?”

“Hmm.” Nat considered. Realized that for some reason they trusted Dimi’s judgment on this one. “Surprise me.”

Leliel Princeton gave the impression of soft snow, settling on the forest floor. Not the kind of deep freeze that stifled everything until the spring, but a light sort of cold. A chill that made you all too aware of how fragile you were, while soothing you with the fact that you weren’t breaking yet. They were like a person-shaped indentation in the static, intangible, with a halo in the shape of a snowflake and glasses that looked like clouds.

“Hello.” they said.

“Hi.” Nat replied. 

They took each other in, in silence.

“You know being introduced to people works better when you actually talk, right?” Dimi pressed.

Leliel laughed, a light and twinkling sound. “I suppose it was easier, getting to know each other, back when there was a game to play. Focus on the task at hand, and togetherness comes...”

Nat nodded. “Yeah.” He’d never thought of it that way, but the blaseball and the casino and all the impending doom really did bring the Steaks together. He wished they could’ve come together more naturally. Would’ve been less fucking painful, that was for sure.

Damn it. He was distracted. He needed to actually make an effort.

“What team were you on?” It felt stupid to ask such simple questions. When the hell had he ever made small talk before? There wasn’t time to make small talk, back in Dallas.

“The Miami Dale” Leliel answered, and that was a name he recognized at least, though he was sure he’d never seen Leliel before. Must’ve come from a different doomed world.

“¡DALE!” Dimi shouted. Leliel gave them a look. “Dimi is disappointed that I was mostly disconnected from the party vibes my team’s apparently known for across various universes...”

“I’m not!! I just keep hoping you’ll tell me about more fun snow party activities. I could make use of that next time I’m in Seattle in the winter, or somewhere else chilly!”

They said that like it was a foregone conclusion they would, one day, be in Seattle. Leliel, seemingly a little worried by this too, started to speak again. “I’m afraid I focused more on the splort than anything. It was lovely to be dedicated to honing my skills. That was my idea of a good time!”

Nat remembered what it felt like on the plate, with the force of every tree in the area behind him, reaching through the ground and into his swing.

“I liked playing too,” he said. “Besides, you know. Threat of being set on fire or dragged away.”

“Yeah.” Leliel frowned. “The freezing, too. It never bothered me, but my teammates…” They trailed off. 

Nat tried to figure out if he was forgetting something, but their mind was blank, so they just asked- “freezing?”

“Oh, right. I forgot the other worlds didn’t have that…”

“I mean, we had Curtis” Dimi piped up. “He was always freezing, but that’s just because he drank his coffee too cold I think.”

“Ah, no. Freezing was… it was unpleasant, for most. I always tried to keep them warm best I could when it happened, and give them plenty of hot cocoa and healing magic when they emerged, but…”

“Yeah, you were team healer, right?” Leliel nodded. “Nat seems like he might’ve been a team healer too, just off vibes. Were you?”

Nat shook his head. “If anything Aubrey and Orlando were best at looking out for us.” But really, his team had been full of healers. How could it not be when so much there was broken? “And Leslie made healthy meals for those who ate, and Livers knew chemistry, which helped-” They stopped. That was the first time they’d mentioned any of their teammates’ names out loud since…

“They sound like a nice group. Which team were you, if I may ask?”

“Dallas Steaks” they said, trying, failing, to keep their voice even. 

“Ah. The Steaks of my world had quite a few dragons on their team…”

“Oh cool!” Dimi said. “I’m sure Nat’s Steaks were cool too though!”

He nodded, too overwhelmed by heaviness to trust himself to speak.

“I’d love to hear more about them, if you’d like to share.” Leliel said, quietly. “It helps me to talk about mi Dale familia, sometimes.”

Nat still couldn’t say anything.

“I talk about the Garages a bunch too!” Dimi said. “I had super interesting teammates!”

“Like Sandra.” Nat said, because it was the one name they remembered. And at this point they just wanted the attention off them so they could be sad without everyone staring at them.

“Yeah! People underestimated her, because she wasn’t the best at talking, but I swear, the Station would’ve fallen apart without her! This one time-”

Nat saw Leliel’s face relax, and felt himself let go a little too. It was a decent way to spend a day, Nathaniel Wilds and Leliel Princeton, floating on a river of sadness, listening to the sun above tell them a story.

More days passed. They still listened sometimes, and Nat still wasn’t very good at it. But Dimi showed them how to move without moving, to be sound traveling a long distance in seconds, and that did help. Now they could extend their senses over a wider range. They could find everyone in here they’d spoken to before…well, before they gave up, they guessed. Soon they’d be ready.

Part of their preparations included making their own forays into the static between visits from Dimi. They moved slowly and carefully. It wasn’t easy. They’d never had to make connections before - being unceremoniously dumped onto a blaseball team had kind of come with its own set of connections. And in the static, they’d just let everyone else stumble upon them. Now, though, they tried to reach out. They couldn’t keep track of anyone’s name yet, and their teams and hobbies blurred together too, but… it was something.

The best was when they happened to run into someone they knew. A few times it was Lady, and he was surprised that she greeted him like no time had passed at all, like they were meeting on the field again, scheduled randomly to play each other. They told her about Dimi, and she laughed like a hyena at the thought of a tiny, cheery, bird tweeting at the frankly sad fucking mess that was Nat.

Other times, he felt a comforting chill, and followed it to find Leliel, making ice, sculpting it, melting it. He and Leliel could drift through the static together, quietly, and that made it easier for the both of them to try and interact with whoever else they came across. They had each other’s backs, or something.

Once he even came across Link Rodriguez of the Spies. They seemed to be doing alright, somehow, and were thrilled to lead him on a quest through the static. They told him about other people in here. People who’d helped them feel less like a huge burden was on them, more like it was something they were all sharing together. A few names he even recognized from Dimi and Leliel mentioning them, or running into himself sometime. Weird, the web of connections that had sprouted, even here. Weird and amazing.

When he was alone, it was still damn hard. He didn’t know if he came off as messed up as he felt, if those he talked to ran the other way as soon as he left. But he was trying. Mostly, it felt unfair to let Dimi do all the work for him.

That didn’t stop Dimi, who brought others to visit too, one at a time, a planet adept in astral projection, an environmentalist kappa. Nat did their best to listen even when they couldn’t say much. And Dimi kept the ball rolling, so Nat didn’t have to say much. They were constantly surprised at how well Dimi handled it all.

“Did you book guests for your radio station?”

“Nope! That was Curtis’s specialty. My job was- well, I guess moral support!”

Nat frowned. “Seems like a waste.”

“What? Moral support is really important though!”

“Not saying it’s not. Just seems like you could do other things too.”

Dimi chirped confusedly. “I mean, I had a show on air, and I helped out a bit with audio stuff. Just my main thing was my great vibes! And I’m really glad, because that was the best way for me to help the team.”

Nat thought about his own team, the many roles each of them played. Many he hadn’t even recognized till looking back on it from here. He wondered vaguely how many of them he might’ve boxed in because he was too busy worrying about making every single second of their stupid short time count. 

“Was it.”

Dimi bristled. “What? I don’t get what you’re saying!”

“Never mind.”

“No, seriously!”

“I shouldn’t’ve brought it up. Don’t know how to say it… you won’t understand.”

“Not with that attitude I won’t, chirp!”

Nat worried they wouldn’t come back the next day, but they did, and it was as if nothing at all had happened. 

One morning, when Dimi came with Leliel, Nat told the two of them about Layla. It was the easiest place to start. He hadn’t known her as well as some of the others. She’d managed to get out of active play at least. Nat had even thought there was a chance she’d survive whatever it was that was going to happen to them, by being in the shadows, but if their whole world was gone then…

Well, he guessed if Dimi’s theory was right, Layla might be okay. But Nat wasn’t about to hope when the chance was still so damn slim.

Dimi, predictably, was thrilled to hear about how Layla was such a sick guitar player she’d managed to play a guitar solo that then gained sentience and joined the Garages. Another good reason to talk about her, of all his teammates.

Layla might’ve not been his closest friend, but still… he missed her. He missed everyone. He wasn’t sure if talking was helping or just making it easier to miss everyone even more.

Leliel didn’t say anything, but they listened intently, with sadness in their eyes, and snow fell in the static. Nat could tell they knew exactly how he felt.

He sighed, and stupidly wished Dimi was with him. But it would be rude to ask Dimi to accompany him on something he really should’ve done days ago, should’ve done the second he was “awake”, so to speak. Besides, the little bird had done enough for him. Too much even.

So Nat waited for night, concentrated, and then moved through the static as sound the way Dimi had shown them, listening until he caught vir signal. Ve was with someone else, good. He didn’t want to overwhelm them. Ve and the other person seemed to be talking about… fossilized plants? Seemed like an interesting conversation, but Nat had a job to do. Quietly, he made himself known. 

“Hi.”

“Did you hear that?” Vi asked, looking at the other person, a vaguely familiar person holding a large bone. Oh. She was the Flowers’ team captain. Lyra? From his world.

She shrugged. “Whoever’s there, if you want to hear about paleontology, you can just ask. I don’t bite.”

They braced themself, and emerged. “No, just wanted to say hi.”

Violet looked at him, eyes wide, their mouth a little “o” shape which quickly turned into a huge smile. And Nat’s heart broke.

He should’ve done this so long ago. He was here now, at least.

Vi pulled him into a hug, and he proceeded to stay with vir and Lyra, learning about fossils, until he was ready to turn in for the night. Violet didn’t press him on where he’d been or what he’d been doing. Ve just made a point to introduce him to Lyra, ask him a question ever so often, and ensure, in a million little gestures, that he felt included. 

He did. It was nice.

“I’m proud of you, Nat!” Dimi told him the next morning, and he could tell they really were.

“Why?” he asked dumbly.

“Because that was brave!”

“No. It was cowardly to wait that long.”

“It’s hard though!” Dimi said. “And you got there eventually!”

Nat still didn’t get it. “Ve wasn’t even mad at me” he muttered. “I’d be mad at me for wasting so much time hiding away. Surprised everyone’s not mad at me.”

Nat wondered if Dimi would mention Sandra again, then thought about how funny it was that he’d gotten to know members of Dimi’s team without ever even having met them. He wondered if Dimi felt that way about Layla, and the few other Steaks he’d dared to mention so far.

Dimi didn’t say anything though, for once. Which was worrying.

“You all right?”

The bird nodded.

“Something up?”

They shrugged. “It’s no big deal. It’s just, you asked me why, and I never answered.”

“You said I was brave.”

“No, not that why! The other one. The very first time!”

Oh. Why they’d ever bothered with him to begin with.

Neither of them said anything, but Nat’s curiosity won out. “Have an answer now?”

“Yeah.”

Another pause.

“Want to actually share it?”

“I’m getting there!” Dimi said. “But this is hard too.” They inhaled, let out a rapid series of chirps, and pressed on. “I don’t know, really. I just wanted to get to know everyone here! I wanted to keep broadcasting, but my signals weren’t reaching anywhere but the static. So I said- then I’ll broadcast to the static! But in order to do that I needed to know my audience. And Nines said I didn’t, that I could just do whatever I vibe with, but what I vibe with is making everyone feel better, and I can’t do that if I don’t know who everyone is!”

They stopped to catch their breath. “Seems like a lot of pressure.” Nat commented.

“It’s not though! It’s really great to hear everyone’s stories. That’s what radio is for! Spreading the words everyone needs to hear. Letting people share what’s in their hearts! I knew that was my purpose here, to spread what the Station was doing even further, to keep on defying the gods on soundwaves like an absolute badass! And so I did!”

Dimi seemed almost triumphant, but there was something frantic underneath.

“I talked to everyone I could find! And everyone talked back, except, well…”

They trailed off.

“Except my depressed ass.”

“Exactly!” And damn, okay. They didn’t have to agree so quickly. “So. I don’t know! I tried a few times, to see if you’d say anything, and you didn’t, and I talked to the others, and Vi said you were quiet but strong and Lady said to just give you time, and Carolina said that it was all their fault you were like that-”

Oh fuck. It hadn’t even occurred to Nat that she might think that. He guessed he knew who he was talking to tonight.

“-and everyone who didn’t know you that well had theories too, but I didn’t know what was right, so I tried to listen. And-”

Dimi seemed to be starting to choke on their words as they flapped their wings violently. Nat reached out a hand. Dimi looked at it for a few seconds, then landed on it, settling in as if it were their nest. Nat curled a few illusory vines beneath them to help.

They spoke up, again, a little calmer now. “I listened to you, Nat. Or I tried. And the way you stood, vacant like that. The way the others said you seemed so listless right before you stopped responding to anything. You just seemed so sad. Like… you needed more than a broadcast. Like.” Their voice dropped, so low Nat could barely hear it over the static. “Like maybe you needed a friend.” 

Nat thought on this. “You weren’t wrong.”

“I know, but…” They gulped. “It still wasn’t right of me. It wasn’t right to see all of how really sad you were and take it as like, an opportunity! Because. I don’t know! This was stupid! I have so many friends! I always had so many friends. But for some reason-  for some reason I thought: I need a friend too!!! And if we both need friends then. Then maybe…”

They looked distraught, and Nat was almost afraid they’d fly right out of his hand, off into the static, never to be seen again. But they stayed, mostly frozen in place, shivering a bit.

“Nothing wrong with that.” Nat said, looking directly at Dimi. “Wanting friends.” They thought of a lonely forest, watching years cycle by, connected to everything yet so fully alone. “I’m only here ‘cause I wanted friends.” And he’d got them too. Only to watch them disappear. 

Except. He looked at the shivering bird in his hand. Not all his friends were gone now.

“I know! Friends are good! And I want to be a friend for anyone who needs one! But I. If I wanted to do a good thing, I should’ve just done a good thing without thinking it could be anything more!”

Dimi curled up into a tiny ball like they thought that would hide them. It didn’t, their feathers were still bright blue and red, easy to see against his gray hand full of dark green vines and the monochrome static.

They whimpered. “I just wanted someone to listen to me.”

This wasn’t what Nat had expected. “The others don’t listen?”

“No, it’s-” they uncurled a little, dared for a second to make eye contact with Nat before quickly looking away again. “People listen all the time! They say I have the best vibes. But…”

Their voice lowered, again.

“I think they listen, but they still don’t know me. It’s not their fault. They… just can’t. It’s like… like…”

They let out a series of chirps, abstract and chaotic, and Nat thought of the migrating birds that passed over the forest and how their calls had been more feeling than meaning and something clicked. Dimi’s song resonated through him, and for the first time, he understood it. And he’d been there. Well, not there exactly, but somewhere similar.

It was a song of unlikely events, each more strange than the last, each shining, radiant, some tragic. Sadness like the undercurrent of a river, but mostly outshined by the excitement of all of it. It was a beautiful and elaborate journey and also a path no one had ever taken before, and in that there was a searing loneliness, burning like a star.

They felt their vines wrap tighter around them, their body suddenly becoming aware of each vibration of the static, like a great chill had just passed through them and left them scrambling to understand everything again.

They… they didn’t know what to say. So they concentrated, and flowers opened on the vine around Dimi.

Dimi looked at the new growths curiously. “What does that mean?” they asked.

Nat thought, deeply. He needed to get this right.

“It means I’ll probably never fully know you. Since we’re different. Individuals. But I’ll listen deeper till I at least get close enough you don’t have to feel that way.”

Dimi’s eyes looked wet. “Why?”

Nat was baffled. Dimi was asking him why? Dimi, who had sung to him when he was barely conscious, who had talked to him when he could only give short words and quiet mutters in response, who kept coming back, no matter that Nat was still sad all the time, and really shitty company?

Dimi was asking him why he cared?

He was struck speechless. But then, in a painful flash, he knew what to say.

“Because you are my friend, Dimi.”

The wetness in Dimi’s eyes dripped out, tears, hissing out against the static as they fell.

“But… I told you, everything I did was for selfish reasons!”

“What’s to say everything ever isn’t selfish reasons? I’m nature, and you’re a part of nature. Helping you’s just helping myself.”

Dimi didn’t seem convinced.

“You’re the opposite of selfish. And the funny sounds you make have grown on me, believe it or not.”

“Hey!”

“What? Can’t say they aren’t a little funny.” They then did their best, but still very bad, imitation of Dimi tweeting a song.

“I do NOT sound like that!” They were half crying, half laughing now.

“Fair enough. You sound fun though. Even when stuff’s not fun. It’s not a bad thing.”

“Hmm. I guess I’m fun.” Dimi chittered softly, tears beginning to subside. “I was the life of the party. And I have the best vibes.”

“Humble too.”

“Ha ha. Speak for yourself, Nat ‘I Am Literally Nature’ Wilds”

“That’s just a fact of my existence. Nothing braggy about it.”

“Okay, but like, admit it, you like to be a little pretentious about it!”

He huffed. Nature was amazing and brilliant. And yes, fine, he liked being poetic sometimes about how he embodied at least a tiny part of that.

“Guess you’re right. I blame Mac for that one. All that Shakespeare.”

The words were out of their mouth before he could stop them. He found, oddly enough, that he was okay with that.

“Who’s Mac?” Dimi asked.

“Story for another day.” Because. Well, they still weren’t quite ready to really talk about him. But they would be.

Dimi spread their wings, and flitted around the flowers, their usual energy slowly returning. “In that case… what do you want to do today?”

Nat considered. “Think I’d like to just. Ponder for a while.” They paused as a thought occurred to them. They were on a roll, might as well. “My friend Silas always called it pondering when they’d just relax and think about… nice things.”

Because there was a lot to ponder. And for once, not all of it was only sad.

Dimi settled down next to them, lying down like they were in a hammock on a summer’s day. “I like that. Pondering it is!”

Nat let the flowers and vines in his hand melt back into the static, and laid down too.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

Carolina whirled around, luminous with surprise for a moment, before settling down, wings and arms relaxing… and then sparking up again as she seemed to do a double take.

“Nat???”

He bowed, which was also a stupidly Mac thing to do, but somehow it felt right. “Seriously though. Not your fault I fucked off to oblivion.”

“I… I know.” said Carolina, sounding very much like he didn’t know.

“I only got two seasons with ‘em. Nothing you said changed that. It was just something I had to deal with.”

Carolina shrugged, clearly still unconvinced. “Did you? Figure out how to deal with it?”

“No.”

“Fair enough.” They looked a little disappointed.

“I did figure out something though.”

“What?”

“Don’t know yet. It’s still growing.”

Carolina sighed, laying back against the static the way one would fall onto a bed after a long day. “That world ended up gone too. The one with the snow and” - she shuddered - “the peanuts.”

A hollowness in Nat’s chest, even though that wasn’t exactly a surprise.

“I worry that by the end they might’ve not even realized they were disappearing. But maybe that was actually for the best. I hope it was painless for them, at least.”

They took a breath, the thought hanging in the air that whatever it was, it probably hadn’t been painless.

“Mindy made it here though, from the Worms, and she’s okay now. She’s herself.” Carolina smiled wearily, but genuinely. “It took a while for her to understand who she was and what had even happened, but-  she’s a really lovely person. A beekeeper. And her world’s Core charged an entire building full of bees, so, I think… them being around may have helped her.”

Oh, so that’s where all those bees the stinkbugs liked to hang out with nowadays had come from.

“And Quitter made a point to look after her too. I think it was good for both of them, to be able to come to terms with all of that…” She trailed off, looking up as if there were a sky full of stars and mysterious secrets instead of just fuzzy visual distortion. 

“What about you?” Nat asked.

Carolina shrugged. “Chugging along. What else is there?”

What else indeed. Nat wished they had some advice to offer, but they were still only just remembering how to be a person again. And by the tiredness that seemed to engulf Carolina, Nat could tell she’d been aware, unfading, this whole time. She probably knew whatever there was to know better than they did.

They settled for a kind smile, and a few sincere words. “Good to see you again, Carolina.”

“You too, Nat.”

Nat would be back again, just to make sure she wasn’t still blaming herself for his stupid weakness. And also… Well, it’d been a rocky start, but maybe they could be friends too. 

A few mornings later, as Dimi and Nat listened through the static - and Nat was hearing a lot more now, they were pretty sure they could even pinpoint those bees - another friend arrived, cloaked in their familiar menace.

“I had to see for myself the ferocity of a beast so tenacious it could spur even a dormant tree such as yourself to action.” was Lady’s response when Nat looked at her, wide-eyed.

“The beast is me, right?” Dimi yelled, then did their best impression of a fierce roar. It came out more like the sound of a very insistent alarm clock. Nat laughed. He actually laughed. When was the last time he’d done that?

“Great power indeed. I quite approve.” Lady murmured. Then they turned to Dimi, a serious look on their face. “Now, then, being small, and with so much energy, you have potential. In particular… has anyone ever taught you how to dive bomb your enemies?”

NINES: This is DJ Nines!

DIMI: And Dimi Wobbler! Coming at you from the static! And today we’re playing a classic fun game called “Let’s Cheer People Up By Showing Them The Wonderful Variety of Radio Things They Too Can Do!”

NINES: A little wordy, but, eh. For the record, that’s a classic fun game Dimi literally invented today.

DIMI: Not true! It was yesterday!

NINES: Uh… can you explain to our audience, and also me, how you distinguish days from each other here?

DIMI: My days start when I talk to Nat! And I came up with this two conversations with Nat ago!

NINES: Huh, as good a way of measuring time as any, I guess. And that’s a good segue too. Our guest this hour is Nat themself, a charge from the world we’ve been calling Gamma 2. Dimi, I’ll let you introduce them.

DIMI: Oh! Okay! They were the captain of the Gamma 2 Dallas Steaks, and before that they existed as part of a forest, kinda? It’s really neat, and they can explain it better than I can. They’ve really been through a lot, but they’re still here, and I think they’re amazing for that! And also, they’re my friend!! Give it up for Nathaniel Wilds!! Hi, Nat, good to see you!!

NAT: Hey, Dimi, Nines. And hi, listeners?

DIMI: Yeah, that’s right! See, you’ll be great at broadcasting in no time.

NAT: Not sure about that…

DIMI: Don’t sweat it! Anywaaaay!

[A chill lofi beat comes on. It’s very rhythmic, like the ticking of a friendly clock.]

DIMI: Thank you, Nines, for setting the mood.

NINES: Of course.

DIMI: Today we’re going to be chatting with Nat a little bit, and based off that chat, we’re going to help him answer the question - Would working in radio suit you? And if so, what kind of thing would you do?

NINES: In case you haven’t figured it out, this whole thing is actually just a ploy to get more people helping with the broadcast.

DIMI: What? The nerve…

[A series of mock offended chirps.]

DIMI: But seriously, Nines is right actually! It’s not like we really need anyone else, Nines did this mostly on their own for loads of time before I came!

NINES: …probably would’ve kept at it too. Anyone who listened then knows all I really did was play lofi music and occasionally say a thing. But it’s not like I could say no to a collab from Dimi Wobbler of Gamma 4’s very own KGAR pirate radio.

DIMI: Aw thanks! But yeah! We don’t need help! We don’t even need sound equipment, the whole static is our sound equipment! But… everyone here used to do things before, and I think it’s important to get a chance to do things again! So we at 24/9 Static Outpost Radio welcome anyone who wants to contribute-

[Excited stinkbug and bee noises.]

DIMI: Yeah, even you all, Demarco and Manhattan! We invite anyone to come join in!

NINES: Basically, there’s nothing better to fucking do in here, so why not chill with us?

DIMI: Exactly! And in that spirit, Nat has super graciously volunteered to be a trial run to see if we can help him find a place here, if he so chooses to accept it.

NAT: It’s not a big deal, really. Honestly not expecting there’s much I can do, but I suppose if anyone can figure out something for me, it’s Dimi.

[Prideful chirping.]

DIMI: I will, you’ll see! And listeners, you’re next!

NINES: Heh, they say it like a threat.

DIMI: I just mean if you wanna be part of this, we’ll help figure out what you can do too! Doesn’t have to be on the air either if you’re shy!

CAROLINA: And for the record, you can also just be a go-getter and jump in! I knew exactly what I could do, so I did it!

NINES: Carolina Correct, everyone. You sure did just jump in. But while I have you… you’ve been working tirelessly trying to extend our signal, any luck with that?

CAROLINA: It is going… better than I expected, actually. It’s fascinating how much intricacy there is to sound! ...We still can’t seem to broadcast outside of here yet, but assuming anything exists outside anymore, we may be able to when it comes into view?

NINES: Yeah… I used to be able to reach Battin’ Island sometimes, but… uh, not since it got sucked into the black hole…

CAROLINA: Yeah… I hope a world out there will be able to hear us some day…

[A brief pause.]

CAROLINA: The good news though, is I’m certain our sound is traveling better through the static now! A few lessons from lightning and a bit of elbow grease…

[A crackle of thunder.]

CAROLINA: And it’s amazing how much you can make happen!

DIMI: Yeah!!!

CAROLINA: But ahem, sorry for the interruption, it’s Nat’s time to shine now.

NAT: Thanks, Carolina.

CAROLINA: Don’t mention it. And hey. Glad you made it here! Really looking forward to hearing how this goes. I mean, finding a place here, knowing how hard it was on you especially? It gives some hope for all of us, I think!

NAT: Yeah. I hope-

[A loud, dramatic crash of thunder.]

NINES: Welp, there they go. Now, Dimi, you have some questions for our guest, I’m sure? I think it’s about time for me to fade out, handle the music, and let you take it from here, mm?

DIMI: Yeah! 

NAT: Here goes, I guess. 

[Nat sighs.]

NAT: Alright. What’ve you got?

DIMI: Hey, don’t worry, I told you before, none of the questions are hard! It’s like a personality quiz! You know, like “pick your six favorite hopepunk song lyrics and we’ll tell you which party favor that giant squid would give you?”

NAT: None of those words make sense together.

DIMI: Did you not have Bluzzfeed in Gamma 2?

NAT: …I don’t think so? But… not like I was there for very long.

DIMI: Oh. Yeah.

[A pause.]

DIMI: Uh, well, moving on, let’s start with something simple- what’s your favorite kind of music?

[Another pause.]

NAT: …What counts as music?

DIMI: Man, I should’ve known better than to call anything simple. Let’s see… music… crap, that’s such a basic thing I don’t know how to describe it! It’s a thing that you hear that pours through you and makes you want to move, or scream, or sing along. It has a rhythm and melody usually, but not always. Curtis brought this one band to the Station once that just did completely ambient sound, and it was so cool! But, music! Like you hear on the radio! You’ve gotta know what music is, I know they had that in Gamma- wait. Nat?

NAT: Yeah?

DIMI: Are you messing with me, Nathaniel Wilds??

NAT: No. I wouldn’t do that your first time trying something new. 

[Short pause.]

NAT: When this is a regular feature of 24/9 Radio, then maybe I’ll mess with you.

DIMI: Oh, then you’ll get your chance!! But alright then, hopefully I clarified the definition of music enough? Still not sure why you needed it but! Notes for next time! Have a definition prepared for every word in every question!

NINES: That might be a little much.

NAT: Yeah. Okay. For music like you hear on the radio… What Nines is playing.

[Celebratory airhorn sound effect.]

NINES: Fuck yeah!

NAT: And for all the stuff you said before that, Dimi? What the world sounds like.

DIMI: What the world sounds like? Oh, like how everything gives off a specific frequency?

NAT: No. Well yes, but more just… wind, rain, growling, rustling, footsteps, voices. Birdsong.

DIMI: Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I know what you mean.

[The background music shifts to something slower, that gives off the vibes of a meadow just waking up on a spring morning.]

NAT: Something like that. But radio music’s not the same.

[Everyone’s quiet for a short while, and they let the music play.]

DIMI: Hey, Nat!

NAT: Yeah?

DIMI: I know we only did one question but I think I have an idea!!!

NAT: And what’s that?

DIMI: What if you were a DJ, but like… for nature sounds?!! Like you could just share with everyone that type of music that resonates with you! And then it could become the kind of music that is played on the radio, because you’re playing it.

NINES: Oh, yeah! He’s done that once. It was neat.

DIMI: WHAT?? I need the juicy details!

NINES: Heh, we called it the Great Birdscape.

NAT: Oh, y'all named that. I- I was just trying something stupid. It was mostly pointless.

NINES: Nah, it was amazing. Like a whole forest and a flock of birds grew out of the sound around us.

DIMI: Oh wow, Nat, that’s so cool! Now I’m mad I missed it! I’m a bird, I would’ve fit right in! 

NINES: Eh, don’t be, it was a pretty bad time. But Nat… it super wasn’t pointless. It… it gave us. Some hope I guess? At least a little, and y’know? Gotta take what you get.

NAT: …Thanks.

DIMI: And hey, now with this extra context, I’m even more sure this is a good idea! It’s up to you in the end though, Nat. What do you think about bringing the sounds of the world to us?

[There’s a pause.]

NAT: I think I’d like that.

It had been too long, and the future would be long too.

“Where would we be without decay?” he’d asked Mac so long ago, and the answer was here. A place that didn’t have much in the way of life either. Nothing could die. Nothing new could grow. 

Except that wasn’t right. Or it was right, in the physical sense. But- and Nat almost jolted up in place when he realized this the first time, and when he remembered it the many times after - there were layers upon layers beyond the physical one. His body hadn’t changed one bit since he’d arrived here, but he had decayed utterly and completely, rotted to his core without even the prospect of a new growth emerging from his destruction to soothe him.

And then, Dimi Wobbler had planted a seed in his decomposing remains. 

This wasn’t only a cycle of endless suffering. It was a cycle of love, of hope. And Nat had never fully been able to realize the extent of what hope could do until he was the one receiving it. 

This place still wasn’t his home. It never could be. But maybe, all this time trapped within noise wasn’t as meaningless as he’d thought. They might persist forever here, make a mockery of nature, become twisted through the influence of eternity, but new growth would rise again. Nat could hear it now. He’d never be the most active part of it, not with the yearning for real solid ground, and more than that, for his old friends, sitting at the heart of who he was. But he could listen, let each clashing sound against the static be a heartbeat, grounding him in the certainty that living things were still fighting against their fate, and always would be. This place wasn’t alive, but everyone in it was.

There was change here too, if you strained to listen. And when he was too tired to strain any more, Dimi would swoop through it all and bring the brightest moments back to him.

He would never stop mourning what was dead, cursing the fact that he had to persist without everything that had shaped him. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t put down roots and reach up branches, defiant in each intentional vibration he made through the static.

A huge bough, for Dimi to perch in whenever they needed a rest. Flowers poking up between the roots where Violet could lay. A thick trunk for Lady to wrap with spiky thorns, bark that could stand up against destructive power and grow stronger for it. A quiet nook of deep green for Carolina to take shelter from the storm. White pearl milkweed, flowers like snowflakes on a vine, for Leliel to admire.

And all of it stretching outwards, out to the furthest reaches of the static, a restoration to everyone he knew and everyone he might never know at all, because he wasn’t Dimi and he could only keep track of so many people at once.

This was not his home, but gods damn he would make it something. He grew and he settled and he observed and he spoke and he remembered and he even laughed. Even though, in some ways, this was still all a strange dream that had never felt quite right.

It was bearable. Nat Wilds was grateful.

And then, 

without warning, 

there was an ear-splitting 

screeeeeeeeech 

and 

Nat 

woke 

up.