Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Looking in the mirror, Norman Takamori glared at what he saw.

Skip smiled audibly.

“You start today.”

Norman’s face twitched. “Fine.”

“I’ll be here.”

“I know.”

“You’ll do great!”

“Don’t… patronize me.”

Skip took a moment to look up the different meanings of ‘patronize’ in his mind. “Not that. What’s… opposite?”

Norman sneered and turned away.

Riva responded well to our message! It was hard, but good.

Norman didn’t answer, but stepped out into the empty hall.

Friendly. Not patronizing.

“Huh.”

I can help. If it’s too hard.

“This shit is… my damn problem. I’ll fucking do it, I don’t need your help.”

Okay. I’ll be with you, though.

“Not like you ever let me forget that.”

You’re not alone.

Norman grimaced. “Thanks,” he muttered under his breath, and felt that weird warmth that… probably meant Skip was happy about something. Or maybe sucking on his brainstem. Hard to tell.

He glanced towards his old cabin, now Margaret’s room. That stung a little. Because as usual, he’d had something good and he’d fucked it up. At least this time he had an asshole he could definitely blame for a lot of his problems, and he’d personally rammed said asshole’s ship with his own.

Honestly, the best moment of his life.

Things were getting better. The ball…

…Absolutely not. He continued down the hall and quietly made himself some toast and coffee. Lucienne glanced up from her breakfast prep work and they shared a wary nod. He hadn’t talked to her much, but they had an understanding.

Margaret walked in as he was about to leave.

“Oh, good morning!” She smiled tiredly, looking at him closely as she approached. “…Norman. And Skip. How did you sleep?”

“Fine,” Norman growled. Now that he knew what was going on, it was more restful to sleep with Skip piloting. He didn’t have to hear the Barrys’ night terrors or Sidney’s humming and moving around, or Lucienne’s sniffling, or Zortch… whatever Zortch did, he didn’t have to find out. …Or the terrapins in the vents, or the terror that was Aurora Nebbins. “I assume I’m flying for the next… week or so.”

“I was thinking you two could fly for part of each day, as our most experienced pilots,” Margaret agreed, stirring her matcha. “But I don’t want you just stuck at the wheel forever, and I think it’s important that the others get some flight experience too. There shouldn’t be much to run into, so it’ll be relatively safe. Gunnie’s pretty good already, and I think Sidney should pick it up pretty fast with a little practice. …Then the rest of us can give it a try too. Just in case… we get in a tight spot and the rest of you are incapacitated or something. …I guess I could ask Raymond Zam too, but he already helps so much, I’d hate to impose on him further. It’s not really his job.”

“Part of the day. Got it. …Anything you need the rest of the time?” He tried not to let his voice drop into sarcasm.

She glanced at him, then smiled again. “You know, if you can, would you try to get some one-on-one time with everybody? Doesn’t have to be all at once, just… I think it’s important. I’ve been having one-on-ones with everybody every week or so, it’s done a world of good with me being newer to the crew. I talked to Lucienne and Nyne about doing the same thing. It’s got to be weird for Nyne, between Barry Syx and - …And for you, for completely different reasons. I do understand, I really appreciate the efforts you’re making. I think this’ll be good for you, and it would be great for all of us to get to know Norman Takamori better.”

He winced. “…I’ll do my job here. I’ll fly the ship. I’m not gonna start shit.”

“Norman, this isn’t a punishment,” she said, voice softening in a way he could almost believe wasn’t addressing an unexploded astral mine. “I don’t think you’re gonna start anything, and I trust you to fly the ship. But we’re all a crew here, and like I said, I can completely understand how hard it would be to mesh with the others. We’ve all seen that you’re trying though, and you’re doing pretty well.”

“You’re the captain,” he muttered.

“I’m… the coordinator. And I’m new to this position, but I like the direction we’re moving in, and we’re lucky to have you in the Gunner Channel family. And I do want you to feel comfortable here, as much as everyone else.” She paused. “…I won’t force you, but I really do hope you’ll talk to everybody. Just sometime this week.”

“Fine,” Norman snapped, and winced a little at his own tone, then gave a small nod. He lingered when she left, and glanced back at Lucienne again. Eggs were starting to sizzle and water was boiling. She glanced up again.

“We for sure don’t have to have a one-on-one,” she said. “I don’t have any history with you. As far as I’m concerned, we’re good.”

“Good,” he responded quickly, and offered a nod as he turned and left the room. One down. That was a relief, though not much of one.

There was a skittering, scraping, clattering from down the hall, and around the corner came the toothy nightmare known as Aurora Nebbins. Norman froze as the beast hit the wall and twisted to bound towards him.

“Aurora Nebbins!” Sidney yelled in the distance. “Get back here right now, young lady!”

The royal blue mastiff snarled and skidded to a halt in front of him. Her slavering jaws dripped drool and her nostrils flared.

“Aurora!” Sundry Sidney rounded the corner. “There you are! Grab her for me, Skip! If ya wouldn’t mind.”

The creature’s growl deepened, and Norman’s heart rate picked up. She reared up and her clawed feet slammed him against the wall, knocking the breath out of him. The massive, slavering jaws drew closer and closer to his face.

“Gotcha!” Sidney chirped, skating up and grabbing the sides of Aurora Nebbins’s big head. The beast snarled and thrashed her body like a spiny weasel. “No no, missy! Time for your medicine. We don’t want you gettin’ worms or parasites or anythin’.” She glanced up with an apologetic smile. “No offense.”

Norman swallowed as he watched Sidney stuff a pill right down the monster’s throat, then hold her jaws shut tightly with one arm and rub her neck to get her to swallow. “Uh. None taken.”

“Oh!” Aurora Nebbins swallowed, and Sidney let her go with a pat. “Sorry, thought you were Skip. Hey Skipper. Norm? Norman?”

His lip twitched automatically. “Norman,” he said gruffly.

“Gotcha. Skipper’s too confusing, I get it. Norman’s a good name. Like… Normal man. Just… just a guy.”

His expression hardened.

“Oh, not that – I mean you’re an amazing pilot, Sk – Norman. I don’t mean ‘normal’ in a bad way.” She pulled out a towel from somewhere and dabbed some drool from his shirt. “Not like you’re just… just like every other human. I can tell you apart. I can tell you apart from Skip too, it just takes a minute sometimes because you know,” she gestured up and down. “Same body and all. …But yeah! Norman. Great. You can call me Sid if you want. Or Sidney’s good too. Or Sundry Sidney. Y’know, nobody calls me Sundry! Not much anyway. I wouldn’t mind that. Hmm, maybe even Sun. Would that get confusing though? ‘Cause you call Gunnie your son, and sometimes Barry too? Maybe so. So not Sun. Do not call me Sun. Anything else’s fine, though.”

Norman had a headache already. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “…Got it.”

Sidney grinned widely. “Great! Oh hey, Margaret’s got her own matcha machine now, she pretty much lives on the stuff, but d’you want me to make you one? Since you helped me with Aurora.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You distracted her for me, and let me tell you, that’s a big help when I’m tryin’ to pill her!” Sidney rolled her eyes. “She’s such a baby about it.”

“Mm.”

“Anyway I – Oh, or I can try to make you somethin’ else if you’d like. I remember you don’t… really like my matcha. I’ve had lots more practice though, and Margaret likes it, so maybe I got better!” Sidney offered quickly.

He was practically shaking with effort, but he would not let this interaction get the best of him. “Every. Single. Matcha. I’ve had… tastes like… grass clippings.”

“Oh! Hey that’s no problem, what do you like?”

Norman paused, waiting for the rest of the stream of words to tumble out, but she stood silently, waiting. He bit down on the inside of his cheek. "The first time you asked... I thought you said something else."

"Oh, what were you hoping for?"

"I don't remember," he lied.

“Well I can make… let’s see. Coffee – any kinda coffee – hot chocolate, all kinds’a tea…”

“You don’t have to… I’m not the captain anymore, you don’t have to do… shit for me,” Norman ground out.

“Oh, I just… I like gettin’ drinks for the whole crew, and I ain’t much of a cook, but drinks I can do.”

“Can I trust what you give me?” he asked bitterly before he could stop himself.

She blinked. “Oh, I’ll make sure it’s good before I give you anything, Sk-Norman! Don’t worry, I’ll practice and have Barry taste it to make sure I got it right. I’ll make it good.”

“Why!?”

Her smile froze a little. “Because… Oh. …Well look, I… I know I don’t have to just… please everybody. I don’t have to please anybody except myself now. And that’s great! But you guys, the Gunner Channel… well you’re different. I’m still gonna do everythin’ I can for all y’all. Because I know you’d do the same for me.” She watched him uncertainly.

The roaring in his ears almost drowned out her words, and he felt Skip sliding around in his head. He wasn’t sure what that meant either, but he tried to breathe in some sort of rhythm.

“Sorry. I know you like quiet better – I’ve tried, just can’t do it for too long unless I’m on a stealth mission.” Sundry Sidney shrugged. “But… well, you gave me a chance even when I bugged the shit outta you, and I always tried to do the same for you even when it was rough, Skipper. Norman.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, biting down on the inside of his cheek so much he was sure he would shred it. “Yeah.”

“Point is, we’ve been through a lot together. Everybody sees how you’re workin’ through things. Why, you’ve been downright tolerable lately!”

Norman blinked and coughed.

See?

“We’re a family here, ya know? Families got problems. But you’re still here, ain’t ya?”

“I… I can’t… This is all I’ve got!” He struggled to keep his voice from breaking, and almost succeeded. He’d thought of leaving. Over and over.

“I get it. It’s all I got, too. Well, mostly. Can’t imagine goin’ anywhere else for too long.” Sidney smiled. “Gunner Channel sticks together, right?”

Norman cleared his throat, eyes glued to the wall behind her.

“Listen, I can do anything. And I met loads of people who can do anything! Humans, clones, cyborgs… Anybody. You’re tryin’. I think you’re doin’ okay.”

“And that’s enough?” he sneered.

“It’s somethin’. For now it’s enough.”

He stared at her, and saw the steely determination behind her bright eyes.

“…Mocha’s okay,” he finally said gruffly.

“Mocha? You got it. Extra chocolate, or just a little? Or like… medium chocolate?”

The urge to blow up at her rose again, but why, when she was offering a gift, a kind gesture with no strings attached (was there such a thing?), not a threat, not a challenge, not a trick. Norman took a slow, measured breath.

“…Extra,” he mumbled, turning away.

“You got it! I never made that before, but I’ll go look up some recipes and give it a try. I’ll make the best mocha you ever had. Might take me a while to get perfect though, do you want anything to tide you over?”

“That’s… okay.” He trudged down the hall away from her.

Chapter Text

Norman’s shift was all smooth flying, and apparently the others did fine too because they didn’t hit much turbulence.

And now it was a new day and he had to get up and do it all again.

Yesterday was good! You were so good!

“Shut up, Skip.”

You were, though.

“Yeah, shut your hole and let me think in my own head.”

No holes here!

Norman didn’t deign to respond to that, and there were no further smart-ass comments, so he headed down to grab breakfast. Everyone else generally slept in a little, aside from Margaret and Lucienne. Aurora Nebbins was hopefully taking care of the goddamn tortoise infestation.

“You… like cooking?” he asked Lucienne doubtfully.

She made a face, then shrugged. “Um… kind of. Yeah. I mean I have all these degrees and achievements and managerial experience… and here I am cooking eggs in a hot dog ship. But… I’m not afraid of ruining my life every day. If I make a mistake, the worst that happens is I just have to cook some more eggs. Nobody’s called me in for a closed-door meeting to discuss my future if I don’t get my shit together.”

“Mm.” Norman swallowed. His head swam with things he didn’t have to do, from getting blamed for the deaths of hundreds of innocent people to the uncontrollable impulse for cruelty. …Not that it was gone, but he could push it back. Usually. He’d never really learned to do that before. It had been the only way to succeed, to keep his head above water in one harsh environment after another.

A coping mechanism you don’t need anymore.

“Didn’t ask you,” he growled.

“What?” asked Lucienne.

“Not you,” he said, then muttered to both her and Skip, “Sorry.”

Time to go do the daily socialization. Unless that counted with Lucienne. Hard to say if it counted.

Maybe one more.

Gunnie should be easy to be around, in theory. If you could deal with the awkwardness of every conversation. …Which had been irritating before Skip. And he hadn’t even thought about wishing to be a father in years because it obviously wasn’t going to happen because no one could stand to be around him and he’d fuck up a kid so bad. Best-case scenario they’d hate his guts and abandon him. Worst-case scenario they’d turn out just like him…

Deep breath.

He flinched, realized his lungs were burning, and gripped the railing along the wall as he struggled to breathe.

Need help? …Oh, no, you’re getting it. Good job!

“I can breathe on my own,” Norman growled.

“Huh?” Gunnie looked up from the next room.

Norman froze. “Uh. Nothing.”

“Oh. Okay.”

The two stared across the room at each other.

“Did you, uh… need something?” Gunnie was fidgeting with a tablet.

“No. No, I…” Norman turned to leave.

“You can hang here if you want, I don’t… I mean, there’s not a lot to do. For you. There’s plenty for me, I am keeping busy!” The younger man laughed nervously.

“I’m not Skip,” Norman growled.

“No, I know,” Gunnie said quickly. “I always check.”

“You… What do you mean, you check?” Norman turned to step closer, frowning at the monitors around the room.

“Your face changes, and your whole… body.” He gestured up and down. “Just – I mean the way you move, not… I’m not looking at your body, I mean I just like to know… which one I’m talking to. But not in a bad way.” He winced.

“Oh.” Norman’s shoulders relaxed marginally. “…How can you tell?”

“Well… sometimes it takes a minute. But your jaw’s always clenched, you’re more… frowny. You know?” Gunnie’s eyes darted around. “Uh, like you’re… real mad about something. And you walk like you’re on your way to beat somebody to a pulp and then push ‘em out the airlock.” He chuckled. “Let me tell you, it was so weird when Skip showed up. Like, Riva knew right away of course, but we all clocked him right away. Even after he got more used to… piloting… you… and started talking more like a human, he just kinda… rolls on down the hall like he’s here to look at the pretty stars, and his face is like a kid on his first trip to Uncle Bob’s Fantanimalland.”

“He makes me look like an idiot,” Norman grunted.

“I mean… I wouldn’t say that. It just took a little bit for him to get used to piloting a human. He picked it up damn fast, though. And maybe it’s just that he never turns on your pain receptors, but the way he fights is like… crazy ballerina action hero. Like you had all this military training where you learned to fight the way… the way humans normally fight, and he just kinda does whatever he wants.”

“He’s… flexible,” Norman muttered, waving a hand dismissively. “Then I get back and everything hurts.”

“Yeah, maybe he should be turning on those pain receptors more. I mean, you ain’t getting any younger, right Dad?” Gunnie laughed.

Norman winced a little. “You, uh… you don’t have to call me that. Skip started it, I don’t even know why he did.”

You know.

“…But you don’t have to keep it up,” he finished, ignoring the slug.

“Oh. I mean if you don’t want me to, I can stop right now. I didn’t mean anything – I mean I guess you’re right, Skip said you wanted to be my dad –“

“That’s not what he said,” Norman snapped.

“I… I mean…” Gunnie frowned thoughtfully. “Okay, no, I guess it was more like… like you just wanted a kid, and like… I didn’t even know what to say, so I just said… sure?”

“Oh.” Norman exhaled. “Well listen, s- Listen, you don’t have to. We can stop this right now if you don’t want that. Like I said, Skip started this, and he overstepped his boundaries. I had… no part in it. You’ve got two dads, like you said. You sure as hell don’t need another.”

Gunnie fidgeted. “Yeah. …I mean I was just kinda caught off-guard in the moment, but then I thought about it a lot afterwards. I’m kind of okay with it. Like, okay, I know it’s weird, but it’s kinda nice in a way. And I think… it’s easier since you’re not really my boss anymore.”

“That makes everything easier, doesn’t it?” He kept his face blank as he gazed around at the blinking lights.

“Honestly? Yeah. We can talk to you now, you’re… look, we were in a bad place before. All of us. You too. But we switched things around a little, I did… brain surgery on you, we all went through some shit together, and now you’re my third dad.” He shrugged. “And… that’s just how it is. I haven’t actually talked to my dads back home since I left school. I need to, but I just… I mean, they were always so proud of me, and so excited for all my academic achievements… and then I left and did… just the complete opposite of all that.” He rubbed his head, grimacing. “I kept doing all this dumbass shit that got me in worse and worse trouble, and… honestly? You always told me what an idiot I was, and you weren’t exactly wrong. Like, I’m doing better now. The ball is definitely rolling up. But that’s because it was down in a deep hole to begin with, there was nowhere else to go.”

Instruments hummed around them. Norman cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Uh. Well, they… you haven’t talked to them. You don’t know they won’t be… Like you said, you’re…” He paused to take a deep breath and gather his thoughts. “Look, kid. We all made… bad choices. But… yeah. Things are better than they were. …And at least your choices were just… dumb. Naïve. You got plenty of book smarts, and… if your dads aren’t proud of you, fuck ‘em.”

Gunnie’s eyes were wide. “Um… thanks. I… I really do need to call them soon. Maybe like, next week. Uh… hey I know you’re busy and all, but… er, if you’re not doing anything, maybe… I don’t know. Never mind.”

“What?” Norman frowned.

“No, don’t worry about it. You’ve got your own shit to do, you for sure don’t have to be on the call with me.”

Norman’s breath caught and he choked and coughed.

“Shit, you okay?” Gunnie jumped up and pounded him on the back.

“I… You think your… dads, who love you, want to see you with… the shittiest new dad in the universe?”

“I mean…”

“Guess they can’t tell just by looking.”

“Look, I’m… I was… really scared of you before. You were… kind of mean. When you didn’t have to be.”

Norman snorted.

“And now I’m not scared of you. …Because you’re not as mean. You’re not like, sugary sweet all the time, but you’re okay. You’re at least trying to be better. And you are. Does that… make sense?”

“Nothing you say makes any damn sense,” Norman growled.

“I guess… Sometimes, yeah.” Gunnie shrugged, eyeing him. “I just… I’m kinda scared of my… uh, my other two dads too.”

Norman’s blood went cold. “What do you mean?”

“Well like I said, they used to be so proud of me, and I’m not living up to what they said I could be, and… I can just see the pity in their faces already…” He grimaced.

Norman stalked forward and gripped Gunnie’s shoulder. “Tell me when you’re calling, I’ll fucking be there.”

“Ah!” Gunnie jumped a little at the firm grip. “Oh. Um… Thanks.”

“And if they’re not fucking… proud of you… They don’t even know all the mind-blowing shit you do every day, so they can fuck off if they’re not…” He shook his head angrily, whole body tense. “Why the fuck’s it matter so much to you, anyway? Nobody says they’re proud of you unless they’re fucking with you. Or… fake, at best.”

“I… never thought of it that way,” Gunnie said slowly. A frown was forming on his face. “I… I mean, I think they actually are proud of me. …Were. Not now. But yeah, I know they were when I was in school. I don’t think they’d say it if they weren’t. But… yeah, I can think some people who… might say it mockingly.”

He looked away then, and that suddenly didn’t make it easier to relax.

“Um. Do you… Can I… say I’m… proud of you?” Gunnie asked. “Is that weird for me to say to my… kind of dad? Who’s this amazing pilot and… Man, it’s hard changing and… just doing different shit now and you’re like… what, twenty years older than me? Maybe more than that?”

Norman had to turn around, he could feel his face burning. “How could that not be weird? Do you hear yourself!?”

“Yeah. Sorry. Um. Anyway, yeah. Proud.”

“…Proud,” Norman snorted and stalked out of the engine room in long, measured strides, forcing himself not to run.

So good! I’m proud too.

“I don’t want to hear that,” Norman growled as he headed to the bridge. The warm slug wrapped around his brainstem, metabolizing his adrenaline and softening the edges of his thoughts.

True anyway.

Chapter Text

Norman took the morning shift flying the next day. He rose earlier than usual, grabbed a bite to eat without getting caught in awkward conversation with Lucienne, and headed to the helm where Zortch sat.

“Thanks,” they said, standing up and stretching. “No issues. Nobody hailed us. All smooth flying.”

“Good. …See anything?”

“Um… we passed a few crafts, they were pretty far out. Some junk here and there. There was a solar system we passed early in the night that had a pretty strong gravitational pull, enough to tug at the ship a little, I… was worried for a minute there. But I corrected course.” They smiled nervously.

“So no problems.”

“No. …Sorry, I guess that didn’t matter. It wasn’t really a big deal.”

He frowned, sitting down. It was grounding, being at the helm. Everything fell into place in a way that made sense. “You got much experience flying?”

“Um, a few times. I’d flown skiffs and little things before, but this… this was the third time I’d flown the Wurst.”

“Yeah. Takes a few times to get comfortable with it.” He glanced over the controls, which he knew by muscle memory. “When I first started, I thought I’d crash every time. Even though I’d been doing flight simulators for months. This is the real thing. Higher stakes.”

“Exactly! Exactly. But… I guess it’s okay as long as there’s nothing to hit. I didn’t have to land or take off or anything.”

“Landing’s rough at first. Docking’s easier than you think, and so is taking off. But none of it’s that hard once you get the hang of it. Makes sense to worry about it, though.”

“Yeah, I guess you’ll be… landing or docking or whatever when we get there.”

“Me or Gunnie,” he agreed. “But I could talk you through it if you want. Just so you can see the steps.”

“Oh. Really?”

He shrugged. “Can’t keep flying forever. If you’re gonna be at the helm you have to know how to stop.”

“I guess so.” They smiled. “Hey, thanks. That’s really nice of you.”

He stiffened. “I just don't want us caught at a disadvantage.”

“Yeah. Thanks. …Hey I know you’ve got history with the rest of the crew, but you’re okay.”

Norman stared at them as they headed out to get something to eat and fall into bed. Skip hummed contentedly.

The morning went smoothly. He adjusted course when a rogue planet appeared, but it was easy to avoid. He and Skip tried to identify bits of space junk drifting by.

“Could’ve gone FTL and been there in a few minutes,” he muttered to Skip.

Why didn’t we?

“Saves fuel, and it’s less wear on the engines.”

Is that a refrigerator?

Norman squinted. “…Deep freezer. Research grade, I’d say.”

What’s in it?

“Now? Probably nothing. Maybe… tissue cultures, chemicals, blood… Hell if I know.”

Skip shivered.

“You’re in the warm now,” Norman muttered, reaching up and touching… his ear, his nose, his eyelid… There wasn’t really a way to reach out physically without the slug emerging. Not that he had to, Skip was literally wrapped around his brain. …Not that it was a familiar impulse to him. Not that he’d ever reached out to anyone. Gunnie had come up and hugged him that one time though. Him, Norman Takamori, not even Skip in his body. It had never been his kind of thing.

We’re always kind of hugging, aren’t we?

“Don’t… fucking say it like that.”

It’s a good thing. I think.

“Fine. Just… shut up for a change.”

“Heyyyyyyy, Norm!”

Norman jumped and whirled in the captain’s chair. Barry Syx was leaning in the doorway.

“What?” Norman snapped. “It’s not your shift yet.”

“Yeah, uh, sorry. Just… I wanted to… Well I never see you at breakfast.”

“I get up early,” Norman grunted. “Not gonna sit around for hours waitin’ for you idiots to wake up.”

“Right on.” Barry chuckled affably. “Barrys need our sleep. I’ve got the early flying shift Thursday, maybe I’ll see you then.”

“Sure.”

“So uhhhhh… just checking, I ran into Gunnie and he… he’s still calling you Dad, he said you guys talked about it. Is that still… a thing?”

Norman’s face went stormy. “I don’t control what he does, he’s an adult. Apparently.”

“Yeah, right on, right on. No, uh, I was just wondering… I know it’s kinda… your thing with him. And that’s cool, that’s cool. I, uh… I dunno if you remember, I was kinda calling you that too.”

The glare slowly receded into an uncertain frown. “I… Skip was mostly…”

“Oh for sure, no problem, don’t even worry about it. I just… Gunnie’s got two dads already so I guess he… knows how to handle that.”

Norman stared at him.

“Never mind. Forget it. I just thought…”

“What?” He paused. “Can you take the fucking… sunglasses off? You’re inside, the lights aren’t that bright.”

“Sure, yeah!” Barry took off his sunglasses and hooked them on the neck of his shirt. His face looked strangely vulnerable without them. “Yeah, just part of the Barry uniform, y’know? Those fluorescent lights in the halls get kinda bright, wouldn’t wanna get my eyes all dazzled if I’m huntin’ somebody down.”

“…In our ship?”

“Sure! Happens a lot. Loose Duke, hundreds of tortoises, sometimes Aurora Nebbins, um… Yeah, mostly Loose Duke.”

“…Sure,” Norman sighed. “Was there a point to all this?”

“Oh! Um, I… so I asked… Skip, I guess, if I could call him… you… Dad. …And he said sure, but I don’t think he really… like I wasn’t really who he had in mind, and I get it, but I just thought… I dunno, thought I’d shoot my shot.” Huge shoulders shrugged as the clone laughed.

“You… First of all, he’s not… fucking getting me into…” Norman shook his head. “Why are all you fuckers fighting over the worst father figure you could find?” he sputtered.

“I dunno, I never… Barrys never had a dad, we just had Barry One. And he was awesome! I miss him. Fuck, I miss him. I… I think about him every day.” Barry’s face twitched and he rubbed it with a big hand. “I didn’t really think about it until you… until Skip asked Gunnie, and then I was like, man, I want in on that! I’m not fightin’ Gunnie for it, I just… you can have two kids, right? We could both call you Dad. …But like I said, it’s not… you don’t have to. Just let me know. Totally fine. No problem.”

“…You wouldn’t rather…” He tried to think. “If… You really… I guess it makes a little more sense than Gunnie, but…”

“Hell yeah, Dad!” Barry clapped him on the shoulder so hard the chair shook. “Yeah! You’re the best fucking Dad ever!”

“Now you’re just shittin’ me,” Norman muttered.

“No, like you get me. You’re on my wavelength. You’ve got some Barry One vibes goin’ on.”

“The fuck are you talking about?”

Barry grinned and pointed finger guns at him. “See, that’s my fuckin’ jam! Listen, everybody here’s great. Love ‘em all to bits. But they’re all…” He paused, and lowered his voice, leaning in. “Just like… real sweet, you know? …To talk to. They’re great in a fight. But talking? It’s all like, ‘Oh, you’re great, we all love and support each other, let’s eat soft-boiled eggs!’ You know? …And that’s great! I love it. But with the Barry Battalion we all… like the feelings were the same, right? We loved each other, we supported each other. But we didn’t do it with whispers and hugs – okay, sometimes hugs – it was all wrestling and ragging on each other and shoving around and fighting – but just play fighting. And yeah, hugs too, hugs are great.”

Norman stared at him, prodding Skip for an explanation.

Tactile… um… rough affection? Maybe it’s safe to make fun of people and fight if everybody understands it’s done out of love? You don’t have to be careful and gentle when you trust someone? Something like that.

“You’re confident, man. Aggressive. Mean.”

“I – yeah,” Norman stammered. “I’m trying –“

“Nah, don’t try that hard.” Barry bumped Norman’s shoulder with his elbow. “I get you now. You get me. We’re good!”

“I… you’re talking about… talking shit. When you trust somebody. But I meant it. I – fuck, I was an asshole to you. It doesn’t fucking matter that you’re a clone. The shit I’ve seen you do? And you… well you don’t do stupid shit any more than the rest of us here…”

“Nah, Barry One was the brains, he made us to be the muscle!” Barry laughed easily. “I know I’m dumb. I still do just fine. I don’t need to be the smartest guy on the ship when I’ve got the rest of the team with me. Learned that from Barry One, but now I’ve got you.”

Norman shook his head fiercely. “I fully fucking believed you were a worthless idiot.”

“Yeah, sometimes!” Barry chuckled. “And you were always a motherfucking jerk, but goddamn, Skipper, you’re as good as any Barry in a fight. Most badass dad ever.” He flashed a thumbs up.

“Okay… sure. Son,” Norman said cautiously.

Barry swept him up in a bone-crushing hug. “Hell yeah.” His voice wavered. “Thanks, Dad.”

Norman squirmed a little. Barry was pinning his arms to his sides, which was probably for the best because he had no idea what to do. Just… let this massive, tight, warm hug happen to him, and be grateful that nobody could see his face. “Okay. …Okay, somebody needs to be flying the ship.”

“Oh, right! Right on.” Barry released him and he clambered back into the chair, wiping his sleeve across his face. Barry was somehow always sweaty, it definitely didn’t have anything to do with moisture in his eyes.

“You flying after this?” Norman growled, keeping his voice steady.

“Yeah. I’ll let you get back to it. See you in a couple hours.”

“Sure. …How do you feel about flying?”

Barry exhaled loudly. “Fine, I guess. I can do it. Glad I don’t have to do it much.”

“If you wanna… get here a little early and go over anything…” Norman shrugged. “It takes a while to get the hang of the controls. Especially this old rust bucket.”

“Yeah?” Barry’s face lit up.

“The one thing I know is flying. If you can handle getting called a moron – I’ll try not to, but that’s… that’s just me.”

“Yes!” Barry pumped his fist. “Bonding time! I’m into it! Thanks Dad!”

“Yeah. Sure. Get out of here, make sure you’re fresh for your shift.”

“Right on!” Barry called as he stomped out into the hallway.

You’re looking forward to it!

Norman twitched. “I don’t want anybody crashing my ship. …Our ship.”

They responded well. Barry and Zortch. That was good.

“Mm.” He rolled his eyes. “A couple more hours. …And I’ve talked to two people today. Margaret’s got no reason to come after me.”

She hasn’t been.

“Because I’m following fucking orders.”

Suggestions, I think. Right?

“Expectations,” Norman muttered.

Expectations, you’re right. Two in one day, you’re exceeding expectations.

“It doesn’t work that way.”

I don’t know. Up to her, I think. You’re doing good, though!

“Hmph.”

Chapter Text

It had been a long day and a long, boring shift flying. Since he’d talked to two people yesterday, Norman hadn’t made any effort beyond basic politeness.

You wanted to a couple times.

“I wasn’t talking to you. If I’d wanted to, I would’ve done it.”

Hard sometimes when they’re talking to each other. Or not talking to anybody.

He made a face.

“Heyyyyyy…”

“What, Barry?” Norman growled. He didn’t want to acknowledge the way his heart rose a little, so he didn’t.

“Uh, it’s Nyne. Barry Nyne.”

He swiveled his chair. The face was the same, but he had a bright pink mohawk that was starting to grow out, his sunglasses were a matching pink, and his body armor was gold. “I’ve heard Barry Syx call you Barry. You’re just Nyne?”

“Oh, every Barry’s a Barry to a Barry.” He grinned, face relaxing a little. “But Barry One always called us our numbers so it wasn’t confusing.”

Norman frowned. “So Barry One… I know he created you, he was a scientist, but… he’s not enough of a Barry to be called Barry, and couldn’t keep you straight without a number?”

Barry Nyne blinked. “He’s… he was a Barry. Just… he was THE Barry, y’know?”

Definitely a different vibe than Barry Syx. Norman drew back a little. “So I should call you Nyne?”

“Um… I guess. Yeah.”

“Did you want something?”

“Uh… Oh, well Barry Syx was telling me how you’re letting him call you Dad… and I’ve heard Gunnie do it too. How’d they get to do that?”

“Oh. They just – well when Skip was in control, he dug way back in my head and found some memory that… way back years ago, I thought about being a father… He decided to take things too far and tell Gunnie and basically adopted him on my behalf.” He made a face. “Then for some reason Barry – Syx – decided he wanted in on that too.”

Nyne nodded slowly. “You, uh… get along with your… with Skip, huh?”

“Yeah. …Not at first. He’s okay, though.” …A better friend than he deserved, in the end.

You’re a good friend too.

“Huh. Lucky.” Nyne scratched his head, where brown hair was starting to grow in.

“Yeah. I was.” Norman hesitated. “Tough break getting stuck with his asshole dad.”

“Yeah.” Barry Nyne let out a sharp bark of laughter. “Yeah, that was… real fucked up.”

Norman’s eyes narrowed. “You know Skip killed him? Wasn’t in my body, but they fought, Skip won, got him out of the body, squashed him with my gun-boot and shot him.”

“Good.” Nyne shuddered a little. “I never wanna have to do that again. Have… something else control me, ya know? And that’s cool that you worked it out with yours, but…”

“That’s different. Skip can be an asshole, but… he’s a friend,” he muttered. It was more than he’d ever admitted out loud, and Skip swirled warm over his brain. “It’s weird, sharing a body. We… take turns. Talk to each other sometimes.”

Nyne shook his head slowly, walking up to the chair. “Damn. I can’t even imagine doing that with fucking what’s his name. Prilbus.”

Norman’s face twitched and his eyes and mouth widened. “Me either,” Skip said.

Nyne jumped back, reaching for his gun.

“Fucking back off Skip, nobody’s talking to you!” Norman growled.

Sorry! You were talking about me! I thought I could contribute!

“Nobody asked you.” He looked up at Nyne, breathing hard in the doorway. “…Sorry. He thought he’d join in.”

“I… I don’t want to talk… don’t let him near me!”

“He won’t,” Norman said flatly. “He’s in my head and he’s staying there. And he won’t talk to you again until you’re ready.”

Nyne hesitated, gripping his gun tightly.

“He says he’s sorry. Just me now.”

Barry Nyne took a cautious step closer. “I… I don’t wanna be slugged again.” His voice was trembling slightly.

“I don’t blame you. Nobody’s gonna fuck with your head on this ship.”

“You… promise?”

“I told you, didn’t I?”

“Y-yeah. Yeah, I guess.” Barry Nyne fidgeted, glancing to the side. “I just…”

“What’ll it take to get you to believe me?”

“I don’t… It’s not that I don’t believe you, I just…” Nyne took a deep breath. “If it was just you, I can trust you. But I… I don’t wanna sound like a jerk when he’s your friend, but I can’t trust a slug.”

“Makes sense, after what Prilbus did. Took me a while with Skip. I get it.”

“Right on!” Barry Nyne smiled and took a step closer, still keeping a safe distance. “That’s kinda why I wanted to talk to you, too. Oh, and Margaret said I should talk to everybody.”

“Me too.” Norman rolled his eyes. “I guess we’re both doing our homework here.”

Nyne’s shoulders relaxed a little. “I’m glad it’s not just me. It’s like, everybody else here’s a well-oiled machine. Just like the Barry Battalion used to be. And… even me and Barry Syx aren’t really… I mean it’s been years.” He bit his lip. “I… I miss them so fucking much. And… it’s my fault they’re gone. If I was stronger, or if I’d convinced the slug to like me like you did, maybe I could’ve saved everybody…”

“You couldn’t,” Norman snapped. “Don’t fuck with yourself like that. Prilbus wasn’t gonna listen to reason, nobody could ever win him over. His own son couldn’t do it. Everything that happened was his fault, and he’s a fucking stain on the floor now.”

Nyne sniffled and wiped his face. “I guess. I just… I miss the Barrys anyway. I miss… really being part of a group like that. It’s awesome here, but it’s not the same.”

“Hmph. I was here before any of them. I hired most… well, just three of ‘em. It was horrible. Everybody was miserable all the time. The second Skip took me out of the picture, they all came together and worked perfectly and loved each other, everybody’s happy, everything’s great… Clearly I was the problem.” He turned back to the window.

“Hey.” Nyne crept up closer and reached out, staying as far back as he could to clasp Norman’s shoulder. “Don’t talk like that. You’re fucking awesome. And everybody knows how kickass you are now.”

True.

Norman flinched a little and shrugged, not looking at Nyne..

“So, um… yeah, the whole reason I came, uh… just kinda wondering if… I mean, could I call you Dad too?” he asked quickly, looking down at the floor. “It doesn’t have to be a lot. Or I could just do it when you’re not around if you don’t want to hear –“

Norman reached up awkwardly and grasped the hand on his shoulder. “That’s… fine. Whatever. If you want.”

“Really? Just… whenever?”

“Whenever.”

“WOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!” Barry Nyne yelled, making Norman flinch. “Fuck yeah! I got a fucking Dad!”

“Okay. Not that big a deal,” Norman muttered.

“It’s the biggest fucking deal in the universe! YEAH!” He stepped forward and hugged Norman in the chair, far too tight, then quickly let him go and stepped back. “Best day ever!”

“Yeah, okay. Okay. …Hey, how do you feel about flying?”

“Oh, that was the other thing. Uh, I suck. A lot. Could you… give me any pointers?”

You’re good at teaching this.

Norman turned back to the helm and waved for Nyne to come closer, ignoring Skip. “Start with the controls. You get to your shift, we’ll already be flying. The wheel’s sensitive, so you want little, slow movements. You’re flying a giant hot dog, it’s not made for racing. So nice gentle turns when you need to.” He gently maneuvered right, then left. “Here’s the brake right here. Again, press down nice and easy. You don’t want to slam it. Acceleration’s here. That one you can pump, it takes a while to speed up. Just remember, it’s harder to slow down, the faster we’re going.”

“Right on. Yeah. I just… I get nervous when it’s just me in charge of all this, and I… I don’t do a great job.”

“It takes a while to get good at it. You’ll be fine after a few more days.”

“…Are you sure?”

“I got it through my thick head somehow.” Norman shook his head. “You will too. Want to give it a try before it’s your turn?”

“You’ll stick around?” Nyne asked nervously.

“Still my shift. I’m not going anywhere.” He got up and stepped aside so Nyne could sit in the captain’s chair, then moved to stand beside him. “Relax your hands. It’s not gonna slide out of your grip.”

“Okay.”

“Breathe. There’s not a lot to see out here. You’re gonna scan the windshield… then glance down at the panels once in a while. Good.”

“There’s so many fucking… lights and buttons and shit, and… Fuck, I forget what all of ‘em do. Gunnie explained to me before. I was listening, really, but like, it’s a fucking lot.”

“Yeah. But we’re just flying straight. Do you see any alarms or notifications?”

“Uh… Is that – that’s just a red light, right?”

“That’s the rear hatch. It’s red because it’s closed, which we want, right?”

“Yeah. Okay, yeah.” Nyne exhaled. “All the other red lights are doors and shit too?”

“Right. Things that should be closed or off right now. Look, there’s a shit ton of controls here. I can go over all of ‘em if you want, but it’s not that important right now. Want me to?”

“…No.”

“We’ll do it later.”

“There’s a… shit, I don’t know what that is, there’s a thing!” Barry Nyne clutched the wheel tighter and nodded out at a little shape glinting in the distance. “Is that a ship?”

“Too far out to tell. They’re not shooting at us, so it doesn’t matter. …I like to watch for space junk when I’m on a long haul flight, but just to have something to look at. We’re too big for it to do any damage.”

“Oh. Right on. Okay. …What do I do if an alarm goes off, though?”

“If it sounds in the rest of the ship, you’ll have people running in to help pretty quick. But you’re on the Gunner Channel, just call for help and somebody’ll come help you fix it.”

“What if I run into something? Like… what if it comes from the side?”

“We’ve got sensors and cameras and shit. If it’s small, we’ve got shields. This ship gets hit with little bits of shit all day. Doesn’t matter. Something big, you can dodge.”

“But what if somebody just… pops outta FTL and rams us!”

“Then the rest of us’ll wake up real fast.” He clasped Barry Nyne’s shoulder. “I’ll run straight here.”

“Really?”

“Faster than it’ll take you to call for help. …Oh, you should know, Skip’s at the helm when I’m asleep too.”

Nyne made a face. “Oh.”

“I sleep better that way, honestly. Not like we’re doing anything anyway. He knows to let the body rest.”

“That’s… don’t you think that’s… weird? Saying, ‘the body?’”

“Yeah. Fucking bizarre, just like my whole life. Sounds like a horror story. I can’t say it hasn’t improved, though. A lot. I’d rather be in a weird horror story than… the nightmare it was before.”

Nyne suppressed a shudder, but Norman felt it and squeezed again. Time for a change of subject.

“I like Margaret’s plan to get everybody to do some flying. You should all know the basics. But I’m not gonna let anything happen to this ship or anyone on it.”

Barry Nyne looked up. His face was a little thinner than Barry Syx’s. The shadows under his eyes were darker. “…Okay. Uh…Thanks. Dad.”

Norman cleared his throat and looked up at the black void of space. “I’d do it no matter who was driving, not just you.”

Nyne shrank away from his touch. “Sure. Yeah. Cool.”

Norman grimaced. “Hey. I… I’m not good at this… talking to people. I – it’s nothing against you.”

“No, it’s fine. No sweat.”

“No. …Just about everybody on this ship knows me from before all this shit went down, and… listen, I was a shitty person. A terrible, irredeemable, shitstain asshole excuse for a man. Most of my life. And… a lot of it wasn’t my fault, I learned recently, but it doesn’t change how I treated everybody around me. And I’m doing everything I can to undo that, but I’ll be real with you, Nyne. I can’t. I’ll never be able to leave that fucker behind. That’s who I was, and it formed a lot of habits I’m never gonna completely break. No matter how fucking nice I am, they’ll always see that asshole who treated them like shit. …And it’s a damn life-saver to have a couple people on this ship who didn’t know that guy. Even if I’ll never get out of that shadow, at least… at least you don’t see it.” His jaw was trembling and he had crossed his arms over his chest and gripped his elbows tightly.

Barry Nyne had turned slowly to look up at him as he spoke, glancing back over his shoulder at the window and the controls once in a while. When Norman was finished he reached out and pulled the older man closer, keeping one hand clenched on the wheel while he hugged Norman with the other. “I get it, Dad. I get you. It’s okay, man. Shit sucks.”

Norman stiffened, but let himself be pulled in. After a moment he awkwardly put a hand on Nyne’s back. “Shit sucks,” he repeated.

“Fuck yeah.” Nyne released him after a moment and went back to holding the wheel with both hands. “Uh. …I can keep flying if you wanna leave early. I’ll be okay.”

“Your shift doesn’t start for an hour. At least. Get up.” He shooed the big clone out of the seat and sat down again. “You can go relax for a while.”

“…You mind if I hang out? Just to like, see what you do with the controls and… look out the window? Or I can go if you want, that’s cool.”

“Stay if you want. Just take a break before your shift.”

“Got it. Thanks, Dad.”

Warmth spread through the pilot. It was like when Skip curled contentedly around his brain, but the slug had receded to the back of his skull and this was… it was just him.

Maybe it was a good day.

Chapter Text

“Morning Dad,” Gunnie yawned.

“Dad!” both Barrys yelled in unison, waving to him.

“Oh hey Norm!” Sidney said. “Half the crew’s your sons now! Hey, give this a taste. Barry liked it.” She skated up and offered him a steaming cup. He took it gingerly and glanced around.

“Last time everybody was staring at me like this was basic training,” he muttered. “Cadet Akers was giving out drinks to everybody, so I didn’t think anything of it. Then I swallowed down a whole pint of hot sauce and piss, and realized everybody staring at me.”

The room went dead silent.

“Geez,” Gunnie muttered under his breath.

That wasn’t the response other people got when they told stories.

They wish that hadn’t happened to you.

“I’ll fuck that guy up if I ever meet him,” Barry Nyne growled.

“Shut up, Barry!” Barry Syx elbowed him hard.

Norman opened his mouth to say he’d watched Akers’ head explode, but Skip raised the drink to his lips. He sputtered, then sipped. Sundry Sidney was watching intently.

“Mm. Uh. That’s not bad. …Thanks.”

“Yes!” Sidney pumped her gun arm in the air. “Add barista to my skillset, because I am on fire!”

His lip twitched, apologies and explanations and questions flashing through his mind, but he couldn’t think of a way to get any of them out. She seemed happy anyway. It was probably fine. For now. Norman stepped out into the hallway as both Barrys cheered and took a deep breath, then let it out slowly.

You okay?

“Fine,” he growled. “Couldn’t fucking breathe in there. They’re… a lot.”

Stressful. But happy too. It’s a weird combination.

He sipped at the mocha. It was good, actually. “…I talked to all of them and it was… fine. Not great, but… better. This is ridiculous, I can’t be freaking out over… nothing.”

Not nothing. It’s easier one-on-one. All at once they’re a lot. Like you said. Quiet is good. Take some time. Give us some space. You’re okay.

“Human lesson, Skip. Nobody talks like that.”

I don’t have to be human. But humans talk like that, I’ve heard it. You’ve heard it. Some of them, sometimes.

“Those idiots…”

Our idiots.

Sharp footsteps echoed down the hall. Margaret Encino walked purposefully towards the cafeteria. “Oh hi Norman, how’s it –“

“I did your… homework,” Norman sneered. “Talked to everyone on the crew. You want me to talk to the JibJobbers too?”

She paused. “…No. I did want to talk to you too, though. Wait a second, let me grab a matcha. We’ll walk and talk.”

Relax your shoulders.

“She’ll give you a chance to hop out before she shoves me out the airlock, don’t worry,” he muttered.

She will definitely NOT shove you out the airlock!! I wouldn’t let her. Nobody would let her! She would never.

“Leave me at the next stop, then.” There was laughter from the doorway, and his shoulders hunched further.

No. What’s wrong?

“A meeting with the boss is never good.”

“Okay!” Margaret walked out and smiled at him. “Sorry about that. Want to take a walk?”

“Fine.” Skip was humming softly in his mind as he walked stiffly beside her, slowing his long stride a bit to match her pace. She took a sip of her matcha, and Norman waited.

“I’m really glad to hear you managed to talk to everyone. …And actually, each of them popped in to tell me that, too. You’re such an asset to this crew.”

His stride faltered a bit. “What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

“I heard how you gave Barry Nyne and Zortch flying lessons. That’s huge. The others are picking it up fast, and fairly confident, but those two were struggling. They both feel like they can fly the ship now. I’d actually love a little time at the helm with you myself, if we can fit it in the schedule. Sounds like you’re a really good teacher!”

“I… never taught anybody before, I just… I know it’s hard when you’re starting out.”

“Exactly!” She smiled. “…I actually heard from all three of your new sons. Gunnie’s thrilled that you agreed to talk to his dads – other dads – with him, it’s a big relief. Barry Syx says he feels like he can be Barry with you, which… I don’t completely understand, I feel like he’s always at maximum Barry… but it sounds like a good thing anyway. And Barry Nyne’s still a little nervous about Skip – he’ll come around, sorry Skip – but Norman, he worships the ground you walk on.”

“That’s… I don’t know why they’d care about any of that, I didn’t do shit…”

“Clearly you did, though,” Margaret said gently. “And Lucienne was saying she enjoys seeing you in the mornings, it’s a good start to her day.”

“I’ve barely said two words to her.”

“She said you talked a little. She feels like you understand each other. You don’t always need to talk a lot.”

“I guess.”

“The point is, I’m impressed. Really. I knew you were a great pilot, but the main point here is that you care so much. You didn’t start from a good place, but you’re willing to stick it out and put in the work, and be part of the team. Every one of us can rely on you. We’re lucky to have you here.”

“I… I still talk shit and lose my temper and… I’m still an asshole,” Norman said through clenched teeth.

“Not a great idea to argue when you’re getting positive feedback, but we’ll work on it. You’re right, though. You’re not a happy robot who does everything perfectly.” She shrugged. “You’re… human. And I feel like if you don’t have some deep-seated trauma from childhood you’re still trying to overcome decades later, you didn’t have a real childhood.” She grinned. He stared at her. “…Anyway, we all need to be able to be assholes in this line of work. That’s another thing you’re good at. Give asshole lessons after the piloting lessons. The Barrys’ll love it. I think the rest of us could get into it too. Sidney could really use something like that.”

“Right,” Norman scoffed. “Then I’ll be left at the next refueling station for sure.”

Margaret glanced sidelong up at him and sipped her matcha again as they walked down the long halls of the Wurst. “You and I both came from high-pressure, super competitive environments. You know that feeling like everybody’s always watching you, waiting for you to fuck up so they can reprimand you? And you don’t know if the boss’ll just snap at you and walk away, or hand you a formal write-up, or pull you into a closed-door office meeting with the HR manager and quietly tell you that you’re not meeting expectations and you’re one minor incident away from being let go?”

“Or you get screamed at in a mixed-rank room, and you know nobody’ll ever respect you again, and you’d rather be shot through the eyeball?” Norman added bleakly.

“Oh yeah, I had a few of those.” Margaret laughed vaguely. “For sure. But what you have to remember, Norman, is that those things don’t happen to us anymore.”

She stopped and turned to look at him.

“I’ve told you how much my life’s improved since I stepped into the crew. It was hard to abandon the idea of prestige and a regular paycheck when that’s what I was always told I had to have to be successful. But I’m really glad I decided to do something fun and meaningful instead. With all the crazy fights we’ve gotten into, I’ve been scared, sure. But it’s never that bone-deep dread from the office. You know? We don’t operate that way on the Wurst. And I hope that’s starting to sink in.”

“…Guess we’re all lucky you took my position.”

“Would you want it back?” she asked very quietly.

He winced. Part of him was blustering and sputtering because of course he should. Skip was silent, listening.

“No.” He looked aside, almost ashamed. “I don’t… it’s yours.”

“I’ve been reading some articles on different leadership styles that Lucienne forwarded to me. I think a lot of the people we’ve worked with have had some very old-fashioned ideas of it. I didn’t see anything that was exactly what’s working here, but… Okay, so you’ve been to plenty of public toilets, right?”

“What?”

“There’s always the one stall where somebody didn’t flush, and nobody will go in that stall, and you can’t blame them because it’s full of shit and toilet paper, and if you flush it, it might overflow. Right?”

Norman nodded slowly, prodding Skip. The slug wasn’t sure where this was going either.

“A leader is the person who goes in and flushes that.”

“…And then it overflows and you’ve got a literal shitstorm,” Norman said flatly.

“You know, you’d be surprised how often that doesn’t happen! Usually it just flushes right down.” She grinned. “But if it does, you’ve just gotta clean it up. Maybe call in some outside help if it’s really bad. But… that’s a leader.”

He stared at her.

“So yeah, it’s not about… status or power. We’ve both had that. But it’s about doing what needs to be done.” She shrugged. “And honestly, I think any of you would flush that toilet too.”

“You know… you fit right in with the crew here.”

Her smile widened. “Thanks! It was a pleasant surprise. But anyway, you don’t have to worry about building influence or socially climbing, because we’re all here to support each other. You don’t have to constantly be scared of being fired. The ball is rolling up, as your kids like to say. And the important thing to realize is, we’re all the ball. This isn’t a Sisyphus situation where we’re rolling a huge rock up a hill every day and then it rolls back down and crushes us. We’re just… getting better every day.”

“Clawing our way up, tooth and nail,” Norman muttered.

“Sometimes. But I do think you’re being too hard on yourself. Are you okay? You seem like you’re having a rough morning.”

“I had to walk away before I blew up at the fucking Barrys to quit acting like idiots, and Sidney and Gunnie to shut their mouths for a change.”

“…And you walked away. And that’s good. Sometimes we need to.” She paused. “I know when I was growing up, I had to be good at school, and quiet, and smart, and confident, all that stuff, or I’d be scolded, or yelled at, or punished.”

“Punished, mostly,” Norman snorted.

“Yeah. …I think it’s hard to see people… especially people we care about… doing things that would’ve gotten us punished. Like, maybe part of it’s real anger that they think it’s okay to act like that, that we were punished and they aren’t… but I think some of that comes from a place of empathy too. Even if it’s not always expressed in the best way. Because… maybe if we can get them to stop, then they won’t be punished for it the way we were.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Maybe not, but I think sometimes that’s how my brain works. Like, you don’t want them to get hurt, right?”

“N-no.”

“Of course you don’t. And if you’d acted that way when you were younger, you would have been hurt in some way.”

He frowned.

“So I think somewhere in your brain there’s a weird connection between those. It’s like a defense mechanism that you don’t really need. I don’t know. Is that any clearer?”

“No.”

“Okay. Never mind. …But anyway, we can change if we want to. It’s a lot of work, and it sucks, but you’re already doing it. And… I hope you’re being more who you want to be now. Would you say that’s the case?”

“I… I guess so.”

“Good! I’m really glad you decided to stay on, Norman.”

“…Yeah. Thanks, uh… thanks for letting me.” He hesitated. “I… uh, I always thought you were… competent. Worth working with. Even before. Apparently I didn’t… treat you too well. I, uh… I thought I was. Not the others, but… I respected you, at least. So. Uh. I don’t… And Skip can’t explain exactly what I did, but… it wasn’t intentional.” He tried to avoid her gaze.

“Yeah. I kinda got that.”

“Can you tell me what the fuck I was doing wrong?”

She stared at him for a long moment, then turned to look down the hall and sip her drink. “You know, I think… we’ll just start over and… respect each other’s boundaries and personal space. I’m not big on casual touching, we can just leave it at that.”

“Oh. I… Oh. I’m not either. I…” He hesitated. “I thought… I always saw people… men… showing appreciation that way, I –“

“Yeah, it’s… listen, you’re doing fine but you’re having a tough morning, I don’t want to get into that right now. Just… I’m not big on people touching or standing there looking at me if I don’t specifically invite it. I don’t think you are either, are you?”

“No.” His jaw was clenched, but Skip loosened it a bit.

“Okay. So we won’t do that.” She paused. “And… I think in general, it’s safe to assume that’s true of other people too. Women especially. But yeah. …I get how you might think it was okay, though.”

Norman scrubbed a hand up and down his face. “Okay. Okay. I – that’s just what men do. …I thought.”

“Men like Gust Weatherall?” Margaret asked sardonically. “Sorry, I know you don’t want to hear about him. But you’re not that kind of guy, Norman. You can do better. Obviously.”

“I guess,” he muttered, glancing down the hall to avoid looking at her.

“How about this.” Margaret steepled her hands. “I’ll tell you if you’re doing something wrong. …Privately, no threats involved. And you tell me if something’s wrong on your end. Okay? Any time. I’m here to listen.”

He turned to stare hard into her eyes. She looked sincere. “Plenty’s wrong,” he growled.

“Oh!” A burst of nervous laughter erupted from her. “Um, do you –“

“It’s okay here, though. Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Life sucks, but that’s just life.” He paused and grimaced. “And… getting better. Rolling up, I guess.”

“The ball is absolutely rolling up!” Margaret agreed with a grin.

“Yeah… rolling up, sure.” Norman nodded belatedly. It was such a stupid saying. “It’ll get there, I guess. One way or another.”