Archive of Our Own

Ness never thought that he would describe his own bedroom as “alien” after battling literal aliens, but here he was, sitting on his bed, staring despondently out his window.

It’s been an entire month since he returned from his journey but the tense anticipation hasn’t left him yet. It’s kinda silly but he keeps expecting a Starman to jump out at him and initiate battle. He felt the same way when walking home with Paula, the two of them still wielding their respective weapons even when they knew firsthand that Giygas was gone. Old habits die hard he supposes, but this was the third pair of curtains that he had shredded with his PSI after he thought they were jumping at him.

The ruined drapes sit on the floor in a discarded pile as he continues looking out at the night sky. It used to be a source of comfort for Ness when he was younger, picking out the constellations with Tracy or current phase of the moon when he couldn’t fall asleep at night. Now all he can think about is the meteor crashing onto the hill or a Starman ship descending from the sky. An uncomfortable prickling feeling begins to creep in his stomach. It’s shown up before, on nights like this. He thought he would have been able to sleep peacefully once Giygas was gone. Apparently not.

He isn’t worried about losing energy from a lack of sleep. Ever since Magicant, Ness’s pool of mental energy had deepened into a well of psychic power he could just keep pulling from. He probably had a limit, but it would take a long time to reach it. His magic had grown from some tiny sparks to a force that could crush metal into tiny heaps and bring someone back from the brink of death, a thing that was both wonderful and terrifying.

Ness gives a little sigh for no one but his own benefit. The cool night breeze alleviates some of the sweat from his nightmare, but he still needs a little bit more to get back to bed, opening his door and beginning to walk downstairs. Tracy’s door is still shut, so he creeps slowly to make sure he doesn’t end up waking her. The stairs creak a bit as he descends. As the living room slowly comes into view, the giant shaggy mass that is King asleep in his dog bed appears. Everyone in the house is asleep except for him.

“Ness? What are you doing up so late?” Scratch that. Everyone in the house was asleep except for him and his mother. She’s sitting on the couch, soap opera playing.

“How am I supposed to live normally after everything we’ve been through? You can’t leave!” The woman onscreen wails dramatically to her love interest as he stares off into the distance.

“I can’t chase a dream anymore, Sophia! Not when it’s been fulfilled! We never should have gone on that journey in the first place. We were too young… too naive…” Love Interest says as the close up shot shows the tears in the corners of his eyes. I feel you both.

“Just got thirsty.” Ness refuses to make eye contact. If he did, she’d know that he had been crying and that really wasn’t a talk he wanted to have on a night like this. Or ever. What kinda kid would want to say hey mom, I think l got irreparably traumatized on a journey you let me go on? No way.

“Is everything alright?”

“I’m fine.”

Things had been a bit awkward ever since he had caught a cold. A normal one, one not induced by desperate prayers or beams that cause nighttime stuffiness. It was so hilariously mundane. He hadn’t even noticed until his mother took his temperature and scolded him for not telling her sooner. I know you’ve gotten more independent, but you still need to tell me when you’re hurt. When you’ve gotten stabbed, poisoned, crushed, burnt, frozen and had gotten your soul ejected from your body multiple times the hacks and sniffles that came with the common cold were almost unnoticeable. He let her fuss over him, like from before the journey started but it didn’t feel the same. The warm feeling that came with the care of a parent didn’t have the power to alleviate all the worries he had like it once did. That was also the first time she had noticed all her scars.

That had led to a tiny argument. She asked him why he hadn’t told her about how serious his wounds were. He told her that there never was a right moment and it was all over with anyway so it shouldn’t have mattered. She said she was his mother and he needs to be more honest with her. He snapped that it was hard to do that now that he had left her behind for two months. In the end he just used PSI Healing Alpha to fix the cold, and that was the end of that. He was a big fish in a small pond, and now he was getting cramped.

It wasn’t that Ness disliked his hometown anymore. Far from it. The familiar sights of the arcade or Onett library made his heart ache with fondness and he’ll be the first to admit that when he walked into his house he cried long and hard with relief. The first days back were a happy blur of catching up with everything he missed when he was gone and telling his old treehouse friends what his journey was like. He was perfectly ready to become another kid in the crowd until some things started sticking out.

The best comparison he could make was to one of his old baseball caps: he had loved it very much when he was younger and took it almost everywhere. By the time the next year has rolled around he had worn it to shreds and outgrew it, but despite his parent’s not-so-subtle hints that he should throw it out, Ness clung to it like glue. One faithful day he had lost it when playing in the woods, and try as he and the rest of his friends might, he couldn’t find it again. Eventually his father sat him down for a conversation about how sometimes you have to let something you love go. Ness had found that old cap in Magicant, but it didn’t come back with him. Some things were better left in the past, with the version of him that was still carefree.

When he was younger, all he wanted to do was grow up. The older kids were allowed to stay up late, watch movies with cursing in them without their parents covering their ears when it happened, and were allowed to play on their video games for as long as they pleased. Now that he reached this point, all he wanted to do was go back. There was so much he didn’t have to worry about as a child. If there was going to be a bed for him to sleep in, where his next meal was coming from, how he would pay for hospital bills when he or his friends needed treatment, and what object or animal or person was going to turn against them next.

Ness pulls out a plastic cup out of their cupboard. It’s sides are decorated with the chipped and faded image of the characters from a kids show he used to watch, and a tiny bit of the main character’s hair washes off when he turns the tap on. The water sloshes in and the second it’s halfway full Ness downs it in one quick gulp. He needs to be out of this house. The memories are too much.

“I’m going to go take a walk.”

“This late at night?”

“It’ll be a quick one. Is that a problem?” Ness half hopes her to say yes, go back to bed. Pretend to be normal and fall asleep.

She looks a bit teary. “Oh, sweetie. Not at all. You’re growing up.”

“Thanks, mom.” It’s not as comforting as it once was. Ness pulls on his sneakers, pushes open the door, and steps out into the soft green grass of Onett. There’s only one place he can go that’ll feel right. Giant’s Step.

Sanctuaries were always a place of rest on their travels, soft peaceful aura managing to heal their wounds regardless of how serious they were and lift their moods. The tinkling lullaby is one he hums often, stuck in his head ever since his visit to Magicant. As Ness walks up the field that leads to the cave that guards Giant’s Step, the relocked door of the entertainer’s shack greets him. Dang. He doesn’t have the key. PSI Rockin’ Omega sparks to life on his fingers, primary colored rays searing through the door. He’s glad the entertainers who lived here left. That would be rather awkward. With that small hiccup out of the way, he continues deeper into the cave.

Rowdy Mice poke their heads out of holes in the walls as Ness walks past, quickly scurrying away once they realize who he is. Their small animal minds project fear at him, something that causes him to wince. He did hurt them, even if they were possessed by Giygas. Could they remember that? Could people remember that? Could Pokey?

Pokey… there was so much Ness wanted to say to him, the first being I’m sorry and the second being You need to grow up . Ness was sorry because he had left Pokey behind after the Happy Happyists dissolved. He was too upset and scared over everything that had happened to see that Pokey had been taken advantage of, and maybe if he had extended his hand back to him then he could have stopped his former best friend’s decent into villainy. Ness wanted him to grow up because if Pokey had, then he would have accepted the blame. That was what caused Ness to not respond to his apology in the end, the fact that he tried to handwave away his involvement like it was a bad dream. He didn’t even apologize, and it wasn’t the first time. Ness almost always took the fall for Pokey back in Onett, but those were for small things like who was talking in class or who tracked mud into the house. This was something bigger than any of those. This was a matter of not only his but Paula’s life, and still he wanted to avoid responsibility.

Pokey just couldn’t let it go. Ness still has the letter, the one asking him to come find him. He’s sure he could do it if he really tried. Get Dr. Andonuts to shove his soul into another robot and ship him off to wherever Pokey’s hiding. The thing is, he doesn’t want to. After fighting cosmic incarnation of all hatred, he was tired. His friends were tired too. The universe could find some new kids to pawn Pokey’s mayhem off to. All Ness wanted was to live the rest of his life in peace.

While Ness was thrust into the role of an adult much too soon, Pokey was allowed to cling to childhood as long as he wanted.  In a small way, he envied that. On nights when Ness counted all of their money twice to make sure they’d all be able to get a hotel room and three square meals tomorrow, Pokey lounged around the Monotoli Building in a solid gold room with guards at his beck and call. When Ness arrived in a metal shell holding his soul to kill something so much more than him, Pokey got to jeer from a mech and time travel away. There was one thing that stopped the jealousy dead in its tracks. Ness got to go home. Pokey didn’t.

Lardna and Aloysius Minch didn’t seem to care much for their son, but Picky loved him, even if it was the kind of awkward camaraderie that came with having horrible parents. There were moments that Ness held close to his chest as he, Pokey, Picky, and Tracy played. It seemed almost all of Onett was haunted by the lingering traces of their friendship, much less what would happen when he returned to school.

How could he return to school given everything that had happened? How could he go back to goofing off at lunch or taking tests when his world was forever changed by the journey he went on? The official story was that he was badly sick, which wasn’t a complete lie. There were plenty of times on his journey when he was poisoned or got a cold. Maybe he just wouldn’t go back. He could travel the world in the blink of an eye. Surely there would be far more to learn there then in a classroom. Then again, flunking out of middle school was one of the most pathetic things you could ever do, so maybe not.

Ness’s thoughts come to a halt as he arrives at the giant footprint that’s given Giant’s Step it’s name. He once fought the Titanic Ant to get entry here, and now all he had to do was walk through. The soothing melody starts up, and Ness is reminded of the weight that the Sound Stone that was usually in his bag. Sighing softly, he lets the wind blow away his worries until a voice reverberates through his head.

Hey, guys.

————————————

Paula Jones-Polestar was starting to really regret coming back home. Twoson’s obsession with her psychic powers was always grating, and time didn’t seem to lessen their fervor. If anything, it heightened it. She was practically mobbed when she entered the small town again, word of her arrival spreading like the plague. Ness had summoned up PSI Flash Alpha to buy them enough time to escape.

Her parents were surprised when she was escorted by Ness in a tattered, scorched dress with bandages wrapped around her arms, legs, and waist. They never had any time to buy new clothes on the journey, instead wearing them until they fell apart. Ness had sewed them back together as well as he could, but Boy Scouts could only do so much when you’ve eaten a pillar of flames to the face or get hit by a car. Ness had given her one last look as she crossed over the doorway, and she didn’t need telepathy to know he was asking if she wanted to spend some time at his house instead. She sends her response back anyway.

I’ll be fine. Besides, they’d flip if the townspeople came up to the house and asked where I was.

If you say so.

It wasn’t horrible for the first few days. Her parents actually listened when she said that she wanted to be alone for a bit, they shooed away townsfolk when they tried to see her powers, they let the issue of what her powers could do go while she rested. It felt like some time away from them was all they needed to work out their differences and now they could be the happy family they always pretended to be but real.

By the time the one month mark hit, they were back to their usual selves. Her prayer to them and the preschoolers was one born out of pure desperation. A true miracle. If she could pull that off, then surely more miracles were on the way? They didn’t say that part out loud, but it was pretty obvious in the way they skirted around the subject. Her powers had grown, sure, but not in the way they wanted it to. All three of them were right back at square one, and it seemed that it was going to stay that way. That was until two months later when they asked her to go to church.

Contrary to what some might think, Paula didn’t dislike church. The idea of having a higher force watching over her was rather comforting, and the calming atmosphere helped soothe her nerves. Churches were places of safety, where she could let her worries wander when the sermons started up and hum along to the hymns. The problem was that this was her first debut in public for a long period of time. She was banking on the hope that people would recognize how inappropriate it would be to bother her at a place of worship, but just to be safe she left early.

Paula left a note behind to her parents. Don’t  worry, I haven’t run away or gone on another journey. I just want a walk before church. I had a slice of toast and an apple before I left, so I don’t need to eat anything. They tended to react poorly when they didn’t know where she was. Paula tried calling them one time back when they were stopping traveling after a particularly rough night. When she had let it slip that they were in Scarabia, they flew into hysterics, demanding that she return home now or asking her to wait so they could come fly to her. She hung up shortly afterwards.

Twoson felt constricting, not only with her parents but with the people there too. While she liked playing with the preschoolers, everyone always assumed that she would take over the family business. It wouldn’t be a bad future path, but Paula would rather explore again, like how she did on their adventure. That kind of freedom, even if it was tainted by the looming threat of complete destruction, was one she could easily follow for the rest of her life. She’s arrived at the church.

Paula pushes open the doors, shuffling slowly to an unattended pew somewhere in the back. Only a few people are here, but their eyes zero in on her the second she walks. Her eyes boldly stare back, daring them to challenge her. She hoped. If it looked like she was scared then she might as well just combust right here and now. Time creeps slowly as more people file in, Paula’s parents following once the usual time for church rolls around. Her plan seems to have worked, but there’s still whispers. There are still eyes.

“I do wish you picked a spot closer to the front.” Isabella mumbled.

“All of them were taken.” Paula lied.

The chiming of a bell alerted her to the start of Sunday service, but all of the events washed over her. How did she think this was a good idea? Twoson would always see her as either a freak or a saint. In the outside world, no one gave her a second glance. She had forgotten how suffocating people could be, and now she was back in the same position she had been yearning to break from.

The best comparison she could make was to getting out of a hot bath. When you were in the bath, you were used to the temperature. The boiling hot water didn’t bother you until you left and remembered what temperature you were supposed to be normally, and once you tried to get back in your body reacted with pain.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” Paula says, slipping away before her mother can stop her.

Even as the preacher rambles on, the guy who everyone’s supposed to pay attention to, they watch her. Paula’s slow walk turns into a small jog as she makes her way to the single stall bathroom, locks it, and slumps against the door. Why did she think this was a good idea? She was never going to have a chance in Twoson as long as she had PSI. Maybe she would run away. Poo mentioned tutors back in Dalaam and had offered sanctuary if any of the other Chosen Four needed it. Or she could lurk around Doctor Andonut’s lab. He would probably love to study PSI and Jeff could come over from Snow Wood with textbooks. Even if Onett was a bit too close to Twoson for comfort, Ness always talked about how any of them could drop by for a visit.

Paula pushes herself up from the ground and rolls her sleeves so she can splash some water on her face. Whorls of burn scars stare back at her. Her fire PSI could burn her if she didn’t summon it consciously, which became a problem if an enemy bounced it back at her or if she felt funny. Ness or Poo could usually fix her up, but that didn’t stop the scars from showing up. It’s why she’s still wearing a dress with long sleeves in summer. Everyone in Twoson would know that they weren’t there before, and that would just be another deluge of questions that she didn’t want to deal with.

The water is cooling, helping her calm down as she reassesses her options. If she just left in the middle of church, her parents might declare her missing and that would be more trouble than it was worth. If she could talk them down or convince them to let her travel to a friend’s for a bit, then she’d have more time to decide what to do with her future. Best just sit it out and tell them at home. She’s spent way longer than normal in the bathroom, enough for some serious time to have elapsed. Hopefully enough that it’ll soon be over.

As Paula renters the nave, people look to her again… and then back to her mother, who beams. “Paula! I was just telling them how powerful you’ve gotten.”

“You have?” Her mouth feels dry. She’s tempted to go back to the bathroom and drink from the sink to alleviate it.

“Oh, yes. Your prayer was nothing less of a miracle. I told you that you could do it once you really put your mind to it!” Paul chimes in.

“I don’t… I…” Paula mumbled. Back before her journey, she had managed to finally convince people that her healing power was fading. The prayer she sent out seems to have eradicated that thought. Technically it would be some form of telepathy, not healing, something she had told her parents when she first arrived, but that wasn’t the case now. Whatever they had talked about when she was in the bathroom seems to have reenforced the idea of a child saint.

“I was just wondering, is there anything you could do now or do you still need to wait?” Time spent eavesdropping on Ness’s calls with his mom showed her that wasn’t how a parent was supposed to act. They weren’t supposed to push you in front of a crowd of people and try and get you to do something that was a desperation move. They were supposed to support you and understand you, and if they weren’t going to then Paula was going to make the people understand.

“I can’t do healing magic. The first time was a complete accident, and I only managed to replicate it through pure chance. I’m sorry, and I truly wish I could help people in that form but I can’t.” The words fly out of her, feeling like a thousand  weights have been lifted off of her shoulders.

“Don’t lie, dear.” Isabella scolded and her heart plummeted. Lie? Paula had done nothing but repeat the truth for years and years. A horrible thought comes to mind. The first time her parents asked how she performed her prayer for help, she said that immense pressure had caused it to go through. Was her mother trying to replicate that experience now?

“I’m not lying.” Paula’s voice quavers. No one’s going to believe her now. The townspeople shoot her looks of pity, some because she’s been put on the spot, some because they think she is.

“Then show them!” Isabella always did this. Always had to be the martyr, and only now does Paula realize why she chose to have the fight here. “You had to defeat that evil somehow. The only way could have been those powers that manifested.”

“First off, I didn’t defeat it. Me and my friends did, and we suffered doing it. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to replicate what I did.” Paula’s quaver morphs into a bite. How can Isabella say things like this when she knows the truth? The many nightmares she’s had, the panic attacks, the paranoia? Did nothing she do even make it past the idealized version of her that lived in her mother’s head?

“Why not?” Isabella stands up, starting to walk towards her.

“Because it’s just not possible! Now leave me alone!” Sparks begin to fly from her hands and Paula stamps them out. As much as she hates this, she doesn’t want to hurt any of the people here, even her own mother. She had done enough of that on her journey.

“Oh dear. I get that you went through a lot, but that’s no reason to act like a brat.” Her voice is sickly sweet, every intonation as innocent as it can possibly be. Look at how noble I am, it seems to say. Approaching my poor, violent, daughter who looks at someone who has only wanted the best for her and snarls. Look at how cruel she is, when she was once a loving preschool attendant. Look at the defiant snarl across her face, look at her hideous scars, look lo ok look they’re always looking at her. Tears glitter in her eyes, but Paula’s learned how to tell the difference between real and fake after choking on the fumes of noxious enemies or looking PSI Flash directly in the eyes. “What happened to my baby girl?”

“She died.” Paula spits, because it’s the truth. Because she’s died over and over again to save this world because of how much good there is in it, even if some of the nastier aspects are staring her in the face. Paula turns to leave when her mother speaks again.

“Just where are you going?”

“Out.”

“Out where?”

She groans. “Somewhere that isn’t here.”

“If you take one more step,” Isabella says, voice shakey, “I will be forced to ground you, young lady.”

Some small part of Paula, the one that whispered this isn’t good enough you will fail when fighting still wants to obey. Disappointment had always stung and it took a trip around the world to shake off most of her response to that. Then again, after facing off against the cosmic incarnation of all evil grounding seems to be hilariously small. What house could hold a wielder of PSI at her power level? There’s something else in their eyes aside from annoyance when her parents look at her. It hits Paula like a truck when she realizes that it’s fear.

“See you later.” She says, and with that unpleasant thought buzzing around her head she closes the door and sprints to Burglin Park.

The second she’s a few blocks away, Paula kicks a rock with much more force than necessary. Stupid parents. Stupid Twoson. A soft breeze flutters past, making the trees that decorate Burglin Park sway and carries the smell of food down by the stalls selling things up to her nose. Alright, fine. Maybe Twoson wasn’t completely horrible. But her parents sure are.

Paula stomps further into the park, not caring where she ends up. She’s not going back home until she gets really desperate, and her sense of desperation is heavily skewed. She’s pretty sure she’d rather face Giygas again than repeat one of the many arguments they’ve cycled through over the years. Maybe she’ll just rest in Burglin Park and make a plan for the rest of the day. She’s just about to find a place to settle down, maybe grab some food from one of the stalls when she realizes she’s walked in front of a house. It’s slightly dilapidated, paint peeling from the door and a single crack down the one of the windows. Her memories have brought her to Everdred’s house. Everdred. Paula crumples to the floor.

She likes to say that overall their journey had no casualties excluding them, something that would always get nervous laughs from her parents. That’s a lie, because Everdred died. He died in the streets of Fourside to deliver a message, and she can’t even be mad at that because without the message they wouldn’t have even destroyed the Mani Mani Statue. She doesn’t want him to be a martyr. She wants him to be at his house, to play a game of Crazy Eights or Go Fish with her, to be alive. Paula learned that in Twoson she doesn’t get what she wants.

The sun’s at it’s zenith when she pushes herself up from the ground. Noon. There’s a bus going to Threed that arrives at twelve thirty. She rifles through her pockets, finding a spare button, a rock she picked up because she thought it looked cool, and... A five dollar bill, which is enough to get her there and back, and she can get a free meal at the pizza place in Threed because the owner recognizes her from the time they got rid of the zombies. She doesn’t mind being recognized then because people only knew her as “one of those weird kids” and not a magical healer. If only Twoson extended the same courtesy.

It’s a short walk back to bus but it’s made longer by Paula taking the most roundabout route she possibly can to avoid both the church and the preschool. When it finally rattles into town she slips the driver her money and snags the change before anyone else getting onboard can see her, taking a spot in the back corner. She had once sat like this in the Runaway Five’s van side by side with Ness, and then in the Sky Runner as Jeff tried his hardest to stop them from tumbling into the sea, and then in the Phase Distorter in a robotic body. The bus tumbles to a stop, Paula stepping out into the significantly brighter town of Threed.

She gets her slice of pizza and mills around for a bit before deciding to visit Saturn Valley. If she’s taking a trip she might as well go all out, walking around Grapefruit Falls with ease. This place holds some history for them, doesn’t it? It feels like a lifetime ago they first started poking around this place, looking for the elusive village that was rumored to be around here as the sun dipped. She hesitates to describe hauling around your friend’s dead body and then trying to fight a sentient pile of puke as good times, but good times.

The small cave-path to Saturn Valley is the same as the last time with two notable differences: no creatures try to attack and little metal bits are littered about. Screws and bolts half buried in the dirt glint when he moves her shadow off of it. Remnants from when Doctor Andonuts built the Phase Distorter. Paula picks a few up. Maybe she can pawn them off to Jeff when they meet again. Saturn Valley is a nice sight. The Mr Saturns are eager to see her again, and don’t mind when she takes a nap at the inn. When she wakes up as night falls, Paula’s mind wanders off to whatever is happening elsewhere.

Her parents are looking for her, no doubt. She considered writing another letter before she left Twoson but there was a very high chance they would have been home by the time she got there. Eh. She’ll stay the night, decide how long she’s going to stay away and then call them up in the morning to tell them if she’d return. The others…

Paula doesn’t really know what the others are doing. Ness is probably back in Onett, maybe playing baseball or watching that one soap opera he and Jeff liked. Speaking of Jeff, he would be tinkering with some sort of new creation with the help of his lab assistant/boyfriend and Poo would be taking on his princely duties, whatever those were. They haven’t talked in a bit. At first they would do two telepathic conversations a week, but the time zone differences caused them to slowly peter out. It’s the middle of the night now, so Poo’ll be about to sleep and Jeff’ll be awake. No time like the present, right?

Hey, guys. Paula tries. It’s softer than normal; she doesn’t want to wake up anyone which is why it surprises her when she gets responses back at full volume.

————————

Jeff Andonuts was considered a genius by many people, but currently that label wasn’t fitting at all.

He stared down at the tangled mess in his hands that was supposed to be a stronger version of the Defense Spray, one that would last longer than five minutes. Snowflake-shaped scars stare back at him like thick spiderwebs, arms and legs decorated in them. When they weren’t major injuries, Ness and Paula cracked many jokes about how it was so funny that someone who had lived in Winters their entire life was weak to ice PSI. He would snap back that hypothermia was no joke, and even if they lived by a volcano for their full lives they still wouldn’t be fireproof. It was all in good fun though and Jeff usually managed to get something else to one-up them, like never getting kidnapped before Poo joined and being able to hit moves even when he was crying afterwards.

His hands gravitate towards the nozzle. Maybe he could use this to direct something that boosts accuracy? If they had that on their adventures it would’ve made Blech’s factory far less difficult. Yes, and he could take this bit from the Hungry HP Sucker so he could deploy it from afar. His hands leap back into motion, pulling and merging pieces into a creation. It grows and shapes… and promptly collapses into a heap of metal. What must be the twentieth groan of his invention session so far leaves his mouth.

What went wrong? Was it the shape? No, no, the shape was fine and contained everything properly. Was it the dispensing mechanism? Maybe, but it seems to work when he activates it on its own and the placeholder water that he put instead of whatever liquid would later stay there hasn’t leaked or anything. No, he knows what’s really wrong; he’s lost his spark.

Jeff had always considered his “spark” to be a metaphor that overenthusiastic art teachers used to try and get them to actually interact with their class instead of talking amongst themselves until the period ends, but it’s very real now. The ideas that once flooded his mind in an endless deluge seemed to turn into a pitiful trickle the second his journey ended. Stress was a horrible motivator, but it was a motivator nonetheless.

He lives in his father’s lab on the weekends now, one of the many rooms that once housed piles and piles of half finished inventions repurposed into a bedroom with the basic furniture. A desk with a chair, a bed, a bookshelf. It doesn’t feel like home. Home is in his shared dorm room with Tony, home is packed into a hotel room with the rest of the Chosen Four after a long day, home is what this place could be if it didn’t have the bare minimum. Maybe he’d ask for a rug and stick some of his better diagrams on the wall. Put one of the photos from his journey on the bookshelf and a photo of Tony on the desk. Yes, that would make it feel more comfy.

It’s not really a failing on Doctor Andonut’s fault. He hasn’t been a father in years, back when Jeff was still four and wet the bed. He’s fourteen now, his birthday passing when they were in the Lost Underground. Ness teleported them out so they could rampage around Onett Arcade and Paula gave him a dazzling firework display by using her elemental PSI. It was one of the best birthdays of his life. Usually the boys at Snow Wood would scrape together a cake and he and Tony would stay up talking about their future. His father sent him cards in the earlier years with things attached. He’s not used to being a father and Jeff isn’t used to being a son, so they both have problems that they need to work on.

He really hopes that this isn’t his father’s version of a failed experiment. Sometimes there would be projects Jeff would have to scrap entirely due to lack of resources or an inability to execute it properly. It would sting whenever he abandoned them, but eventually he would move on from his failure. He didn’t have the same luxury on his journey. If the Defense Shower’s nozzle was busted he’d just have to hope it works in the midst of battle. If the HP Sucker’s returning spring failed to trigger that was something he’d deal with after the smoke cleared. He can’t fail like that again.

So Jeff began building weapons at an age when he should have been complaining about the algebra tests his teacher assigned. He cobbled together a bazooka out of broken instruments and scrap metal. He bought rockets off of the black market from a man who didn’t seem to care who he was as long as he paid. He worked late into the hours of night to make sure his creations were better.

The rest of the Chosen Four would usually manage to talk him to a point of normalcy. Ness could coax him to sleep when he had worked himself up into an inventing fervor, Paula could literally drag him to bed if she tried (and believe him, she would), and Poo would teach him meditation tactics to help work off the energy garnered. On nights when those wouldn’t work he would call Tony. That little piece of home got him to turn off the lights every time.

When he returned home, he kept working. At first it was merely touching up his old ones, making sure that they were still operational after a trip through spacetime and back. Then it was working out some of the kinks with new tools he couldn’t get while traveling. By the time one moth had passed, Jeff had drawn up drafts for new things.

He would never give these weapons to anyone else. Jeff wasn’t the most trusting of the law enforcement ever since he joined the Chosen Four and heard Ness’s tale of being attacked by the Onett Police Department. Not to mention he experienced it firsthand in Fourside when trying to get into the Monotoli Building. No, no, handing off his more violent inventions to anyone else, no matter how high they paid, simply wouldn’t happen. The rest of the world excluding a few other people didn’t help when a literal alien invasion was underway, so they don’t get to use them now on other people.

Jeff would lend some of his more peaceful creations out though. The Instant Revitalizing Device could help so many sick people once he and his father make sure that there are no adverse side effects to using it and that it can be mass produced. It would be tricky work making sure that it wouldn’t be restricted to only the elite, but it would be a task they would do all the same. The Defense Shower could be used to stop buildings from collapsing in earthquake-prone areas, and the HP Suckers could be reprogrammed to leech the sickness from someone’s body. Plenty of ideas bubble to the surface of his mind. It’s a shame he can’t seem to work on them.

A thought rattles around in his head; how can he be certain that even these are enough to help? His promise was null and void in the face of the cosmic incarnation of hatred, and looking back on it Jeff feels silly for even trying. How did he possibly think that bottle rockets and a bazooka was going to kill an otherworldly being like that?

Oh, he put up a fight. Set up every last Multibottle Rocket he possibly could and watched as they soared into the red mist surrounding them before they blew up with a dazzling bang. Fired his Heavy Bazooka into the creature again and again until he was sure his robotic joints were going to seize up from the pressure. Threw Super Bomb after Super Bomb to the point where his audio sensors were having trouble registering sounds. Any holes his inventions seemed to make stitched right back together again. With regeneration like that, it’s no wonder Jeff was the first to fall in battle.

They brought him back the next three times he fell. Ness and Poo with PSI Healing and Paula with the Horns of Life taken from Saturn Valley. He had fought just like he did before, but with turns added to help the others. Their PSI seemed to fare better, tearing holes open for far longer than his weapons. He would use the Defense Shower on them until an opening appeared and then dump every last attack he had into them until he fell again.

“Don’t bring me back until he’s dead. Save your PSI.” He had croaked out, and with the next attack Jeff faded to the blackness again. He would have stayed like that forever if it wasn’t for Paula’s prayer. Getting to see Tony and his friends back at Snow Wood seemed to reignite a fire in his spectral heart, helping teather him back to his physical body in the present once Giygas was defeated.

“Hey, Jeff!” Tony’s voice enters his room, causing Jeff to look up from his desk. Was it already two? “Ready to go?”

“Yes. Just let me clean up this mess.” Cleaning up means shuffling some pieces around until they’re no longer in danger of falling off his desk, but he does it anyway. The two of them had planned an official date for the first time in their relationship. Their previous dates were spur-of-the-moment decisions when empty spaces showed up; a trip to the top of Snow Wood’s roof to watch a meteor shower, a ride on Tessie’s back in the middle of the night, that sort of thing. They were very nice, don’t get him wrong, but Jeff was the kind of person to schedule his day. It felt good to have the day planned out.

“Still working on the HP Sucker?”

“Actually, I took a break and decided to fix the Defense Shower instead.”

“Oh.” Tony looks at the mess of scraps on his desk. “Can’t really tell the difference.”

Jeff snorts. “Yeah. I’ll grab the basket and then we can be on our way.” It isn’t a basket, more a stained tote bag from some conference his father got invited to years ago that’s big enough to hold a picnic blanket and a lunch for two. He pulls it out of the fridge, being careful not to jostle any of his samples of a potentially stronger healing aid.

“Before we go… I got you a gift!” Tony chirps, revealing a bouquet of flowers from behind his back. It’s full of bright red and yellow flowers, one Jeff knows aren’t from Winters. Did he order these in from another country? “I know you’re not really a flower kind of person, but I wanted something to keep you company when I’m away.”

“They’re gorgeous, truly.” Tony plucks a sizeable glass from the cabinet, filling it and placing the flowers inside. He’ll bring them into his room later. Right now, he has a date he needs to go on.

“So, where exactly are we going? You never really specified…” Tony bounces on the balls of his feet as Jeff leaves a note to his father.

“I’ve got a surprise of my own.” Jeff slides open the door to the lab, footsteps crunching in the snow as Tony follows him. It’s not far from the lab, requiring only a short walk up a hill that overlooks the area.

“Snow Wood looks so small from up here.” Tony squints down at the tiny rectangle across the lake that is the boarding school.

“That isn’t the surprise I wanted to show you.” Jeff smiles, spreading out the waterproof tarp that’s taking the place of a blanket. He can’t let melted snow leak through on their first official date, after all. “Sit and prepare to be astounded.”

Tony takes his seat as Jeff reveals a collective of bottle rockets. “Behold, my greatest invention as of late! I picked out only the best strontium for you.”

He gave Jeff the smile that usually meant I’m happy for you even if I don’t understand what that means , but he didn’t need to know the properties of that element to appreciate what was coming next. Jeff pointed the bundle of rockets upwards and carefully lit the wick, watching as they soared into the air. It felt a bit strange using bottle rockets for their intended purpose after using them as weapons for so long. They spread apart just as he calculated, exploding into a dazzling red heart. The sparks flicker out of fuel, leaving the image of a giant heart seared into his eyes for a bit. Whoops. He’ll have to fix that next time. If there is a next time. “What did you think?”

Tony continues staring up at the smoky remains of the heart, slowly drifting away. “That was the most you surprise there possibly could have been.”

“…is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Yes!” Tony jumps to his feet and brings him in for a kiss, one Jeff eagerly returns. They’ve gotten better at it now that they’ve had more experience.

“Thank goodness. It wasn’t easy to set it up, that’s for sure.” The two of them sink to the tarp, Tony’s hand curled in his. This portions of Winters seems so small from up here, the mighty Stonehenge looking like a set of children’s building blocks.

“I’m sorry.” Tony says, breaking the silence.

“For what?”

“I haven’t come to visit as often.”

“That’s not your fault.”

“Yes it is. I want to see you, but…” Tony swallows. “I can’t stand having to walk by Stonehenge. All I can remember is the insides of that awful tube.”

Guilt prickles in Jeff’s stomach like a prickle of porcupines have been dropped in there. “That’s my fault. If I had been-“

“What? Able to see the future and tell exactly when the Starmen were going to strike? You saved me, Jeff. You went through an evil alien base filled with horrible creatures that were trying to kill you to save me. Somehow I don’t think you’re responsible for my kidnapping.” Tony snorts into the crisp air and suddenly he feels silly for thinking that at all. Despite that, one final thought slips out of his mouth.

“They took you because they knew you were important to me.” Jeff whispers. “And I don’t know if they’re going to come back or not, and one day I might not be able to come find you again.”

“That’s not going to happen.” Tony squeezes his hand. “They might come back, sure. But without their boss backing them up, they’re just some buckets of bolts who think they’re so much stronger then they actually are.”

“They are strong! They have armor and spaceships and laser beams and-“

“You have armor. You have laser beams.”

“I don’t have a spaceship.”

“Not yet.” Tony refutes like it’s the simplest thing in the world and maybe it is. Giygas is gone, evaporated into nothingness before he could hurt them. The Starmen are gone, and if they ever come back all he has to do is gather his old band of friends so they can chase them off again.

“Maybe I could start work on one. That’d be one way to get out of a creative slump.” All his troubles seem to fade away here, on the hill with Tony. “I could come get you if you don’t like passing by Stonehenge.”

“We could split it fifty-fifty.”

They fade off into a conversation about nothing that matters in particular and slowly work their ways through the picnic lunch that he packed. Tony escorts him back to the lab and says goodbye with another kiss, leaving Jeff alone with the remains of the date and a fluttering feeling in his chest. The tarp needs to be hung out and dried so he stays outside to do so. Once it’s draped firmly over a bit of string he grabbed from inside, a voice reverberates through his head.

Hey, guys.

——————————

Prince Poo has discovered that crying is not a very dignified action. It’s horribly difficult to get any words out once you start and you’re left wiping your face with some very expensive silk sheets that have been in your family for generations, which will be embarrassing to ask to get washed later.

There are no guards around to hear his screams. Dalaam is already a very inaccessible country, and Poo’s discovered that he’s pretty hard to kill so there’s no one stationed outside his room. A small mercy. The crown prince that had been trained his whole life, part of a group chosen to combat a legendary evil and succeeded rendered into a sniffling mess by a bad dream. At least his telepathy wasn’t strong enough to broadcast such images in their mental link. That had once happened to Paula on a particularly bad night, and she hadn’t engaged in mental conversation for a week afterwards.

Poo pushes himself into a sitting position. Breathe in, hold, release. Breathe in, hold release. A basic tactic meant to center the mind when it was under stress. His frantically beating heart slowly but surely returns to it’s normal rate which means that he can proceed to the next step. He’s requested a jug of water be brought to his room before night falls every day, coming up with the excuse that it was healthy to go to sleep hydrating. In actuality it was for when he woke up from a nightmare. The cool water refreshes him as it slides down his throat. Finally, Poo grabs the paper and pen sitting by his desk. Originally it was intended for writing letters to his friends overseas due to his busying schedule, but it’s slowly shifted to cataloguing his dreams. He brushes a few pages from an earlier night away to the side and gets to work. The sentences are vague, occasionally broken up by a doodle of one of the few parts he remembers. The end result is a messy but legible version of the events that woke him.

At least the sun was starting to rise. Some of his dreams struck in the dead of the night, leaving him to stare at the stars until he sank back into an uneasy slumber. They had become a familiar sight ever since he learned how to use PSI Starstorm, and now Poo looks to them for comfort. They were distant, yes, but shone stubbornly in the sky regardless of what happened. He wished he could be as powerful as them.

A small piece of bitterness roils in his chest. He learned one of the most powerful PSI tactics there possibly were and it did absolutely nothing against Giygas. It was helpful when dealing with large hoards of enemies and certainly saved his friends back in the Lost Underworld when they had a rematch against Master Belch, but Poo was counting on it for their final fight. Legends of PSI Starstorm’s power existed all across the world in all sorts of languages, so he was hoping it would be the big push needed to defeat Giygas. It did as much good as a captain’s slipper would have done against a Kraken. Then again, all their attacks were about as powerful as slippers against the shifting mist that was their enemy. Even the legendary Sword of Kings wasn’t able to help. He owes people of Daalam that came to their aid a great debt that he can hopefully repay by being a good ruler.

Dalaam was a series of islands broken up by the sea, which is why they’re a bit more isolated from the world. Advancements in sea travel has made it a bit easier to connect, but air travel was out of the question due to the numerous magical thunderstorms that menaced the area back when Thunder and Storm were guarding the sanctuary. That was also reason he was on one of the smaller islands in the first place; Pink Cloud.

Pink Cloud being a sanctuary caused it to emit massive amounts of PSI energy, one that was perfect for helping train up and coming wielders of PSI. They wouldn’t have to try and draw from their own magic reserves which would usually result in exhaustion before any significant progress could be made. The energy also allowed spirits to linger on the earth for much longer than they should have, allowing Poo to commune with the passed on, more experienced uses of PSI.

The view from the peak of the small mountain that he sat on when Mu training was one that would always be a fond memory, even if the final bit of training was rather grisly. It only made sense in hindsight; it was so even when his body was under considerable pain he could reconnect his soul back to it, a trick that had become invaluable on their journey. It was nothing short of a small miracle that the rest of his friends were able to pull it off without any training. A cool breeze creeps through his room, snapping Poo out of his thoughts. Dalaam got cold at night, which is why he had some heavier blankets in a corner for when night fell, pulling it on. He loved his home, but he did not want to be king at all. Even trying to keep the Chosen Four alive was a massive ordeal, and that was a burden that he shared with three other people. An entire kingdom was too much, and while his parents would one day die as well he hoped it would be a long, long time before he had to take over for them. Even though they were confident in his abilities, he wasn’t.

The return of the Sword of Kings and other such artifacts to their original owners was a delight to everyone. Stories of their uses have been part of almost every Dalaam myth and while their use is more ornamental due to the lack of wars caused by their isolation, they’re still important to his culture. His parents were pleased by his acquisition of them as well, sending him requests to come back to the main isle. He declined.

Poo truly and utterly would like to see his parents again. It’s been quite some time, but it would feel strange just leaving for the main island after so long. This place felt more like home with the people he knew and familiar sights. Maybe they could come visit instead. Maybe his friends could come visit. It’s foolish, but for the last few weeks he’s been expecting someone to be there with him. He keeps expecting to hear Paula with a snarky comment or Jeff chime in with an obscure fact or Ness to give a playful ribbing. They’re far away from Dalaam, scattered to their own respective corners of the world. But there, in the slowly rising dark, clutching his blanket so tight his knuckles are white, Poo yearns for the comfort of his friends.

That settles it. He’ll contact them, wether that be via telepathy or letter. As he picks up a pen, a voice rattles through his mind.

Hey, guys.

—————————-

Hey, guys.

Greetings.

Hi.

What’s up?

Ness blinks a bit. He didn’t expect everyone else to be awake at this point.

Looks like I’m not the only one with trouble sleeping.

If only.

Is everything alright, Paula?

Yeah, we haven’t talked in a while.

Eh. Could be better, could be worse. My parents are being annoying about my powers again, but that’s nothing new.

Things have been slow in Dalaam as well. How are you doing, Jeff?

Pretty good so far. I’ve been trying to build things again but it isn’t the same as when we were all together. Tony and I have-

Jeff and Tony sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!

Hardy har, Ness. Very mature.

Sorry, I couldn’t resist. I’m glad you’re having a good time with your boyfriend. One of us has to be.

Yes, yes. Tony and I have been actually dating now that Giygas is gone. He’s made the inventor’s block a lot easier to deal with.

Lucky. I’ve been in a bit of a haze since we’ve split up. My parents have gotten way worse ever since I pulled off that prayer. I wish I could see you guys again.

Why… why can’t we?

Uh, because we’re halfway across the world from each other?

Nuh uh. Me and Poo can teleport, and Paula can walk to Onett.

I’m in Saturn Valley, actually.

Oh. Well, I can pick up Jeff and Ness can meet you there.

Yeah! It might be a bit out of the blue, but I’m ready to go! If you’re cool with it, that is.

Yeah. That sounds really nice.

Cool. See you soon, Paula.

Their mental link fizzles out but Ness’s PSI roars with excitement. Sparks flicker from his feet as he turns to face a clear stretch of land. I’m coming, guys. He takes off with a wild sprint, setting clumps of grass ablaze as the world blurs and he comes to a halt in Saturn Valley.

The small town hasn’t changed much since he last visited, spare a few leftover bits of metal from Doctor Andonuts’s inventions. He hopes Jeff’s started to get along with him. Then again, he can ask about it in person. Ness is about to start looking around when something crashes into him. Panic seizes into his body before his battle instincts fade away; it’s one of his dearest friends.

“Paula!” He cries, wrapping his arms around her as she does the same. “I missed you so much!”

“Me too.” She’s gotten a bit taller since they last met, and Ness can feel the inches of height she has above him in the hug. “Where do I even begin?”

“Maybe wait until Jeff and Poo show up.”

“There’s no need for that.” Poo’s voice causes the two of them to look up from their embrace, Jeff clinging to his hand woozily.

“I think I’ve just gotten inspiration for another invention: something that’ll let me teleport without having to run until I combust.” He croaks out and a genuinely happy laugh spills from Ness’s mouth and now all four of them are locked together in a tight hug.

“Is it weird,” Ness says, still squished together with his arms unwilling to let go, “that sometimes I wish the adventure didn’t end and sometimes I wish it never happened?”

“Oh, definitely not. I’d take getting attacked by taxis and stop signs over my parents any day.” Paula says, untangling herself from the hug and sitting on the floor. The rest of them follow suit, eyes looking up at the stars.

“Yeah. I liked it when the fights were easy and we could just focus on acquiring materials or traveling. I think they were some of the best days of my life.” Jeff huffs.

“Indeed. You all taught me many things that will no doubt help when I come to rule Dalaam.”

Ness senses the bit of weariness in Poo’s tone. “Do you not want to be king?”

“Not now, and certainly not anytime soon. It has many benefits, but those all come with equally as many downsides.”

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown.” Paula whistles. “I could barely manage the preschoolers, much less an entire kingdom. You’ve got your work cut out for you.”

“We could help. If you wanted.” Jeff cautiously asks, looking away as soon as the words leave his mouth.

“That would be much appreciated, but I wouldn’t want to saddle you with any official matters. Your support on the other hand, that I want. You don’t treat me like I’m the prince. You treat me like I’m a regular child. It’s a nice break.”

Paula laughs. “Every few months or so we can drag you out of your stuffy palace and go beating up coffee cups for old times sake. Hang out at the mall or whatever it is that normal teenagers do.”

“We could go take a joyride in the Sky Runner if I fix her up.” Jeff chimes in.

“No thanks. I’d rather not crash for the third time.” All four of them laugh at that.

“Anyone else have nightmares?” Ness asks, shifting so he can lay on his back and look up at the sky.

“That’s like asking if anyone else breathes oxygen.” Paula snipes back, but sighs at the end. “Yeah. I keep seeing all of you dead, robot bodies smashed to pieces. I’m back there on my knees, asking anyone if they can help us at all. But this time no one comes, and the darkness swallows me whole.”

“Sometimes I dream that I’m fighting Giygas in Dalaam. I try so hard, summon every last bit of magic that I know and when that doesn’t work swing the Sword of Kings with all my might. It never stops him from destroying my country.”

“I dream that I’m the last one left, and all I’m left with are my inventions but they don’t work and I keep trying until my joints rust off. I would rather just wake up quickly then go through that.”

“My nightmares aren’t always about Giygas. Sometimes they’re about the Mani Mani Statue. Remember when I asked you to kill me if I turned out like him?”

“Pretty hard request to forget.”

“Yeah. In Magicant, I had to fight the evil in my mind, and it looked like that. I defeated it, but sometimes I have thoughts that make me wonder if it actually died. I’m fourteen. I shouldn’t have powers that can rival the cosmic incarnation of hatred.” They all fall into silence for a bit, just looking up. All the Mr Saturns have gone to bed, leaving them alone with their thoughts.

“I wanna look up at the stars,” Ness says, “but the stars just don’t look the same. I used to pick out constellations with Tracy and all I can see now is Starman ships in the distance. They’ve ruined it for me.”

“Winters is famous for a phenomenon caused by the magnetic fields in earth’s atmosphere; aurora borealis. I tried to watch it on a school trip, but it was red and wavy and looked just like Giygas so I had to leave. I ended up crying into my bed that night, and Tony tried to calm me down. I didn’t know how to tell him that it wasn’t helping because he didn’t understand and he could never understand and I don’t want him to understand. I don’t want anyone to go through that.”

“I’ve set my room on fire three times by now. I have a nightmare and my instinct is to fight back when praying doesn’t work because at least I can go down swinging. I cast PSI Fire and torch my room completely and only manage to stop it because of PSI Freeze. What if I don’t manage to stop it next time? What if I burn my house down? What if I burn the whole town down? At least they won’t think I’m a miracle worker anymore.”

“I pass Pink Cloud and I wonder how destructive Giygas would have been if he managed to harness a sanctuary’s amplifying powers. I think about our fight against Thunder and Storm and what would have happened to my people if they weren’t contained by those shadowy rabbits. I think about how if I wasn’t able to learn PSI Starstorm I wouldn’t have been able to save all of you from Master Belch or fight off the Starmen.”

“Man. Why couldn’t the universe have picked someone better for the job? Why kids? Why not a bunch of middle aged adults, or at least older teenagers? I think if I had to do this journey alone I would have died, and there wouldn’t have been anyone to bring me back or talk to me in the hotels or defend me in battle. I think you guys were the only reason I survived, an now that we’ve split up I don’t know what to do. And I don’t care.” Ness sniffles. “I don’t care if we have to make friendship bracelets or get matching leather jackets or sign a blood oath or anything. As long as we get to stay friends.”

“Always.” Paula says, grabbing his hand and bringing it into hers. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“As long as you do the same for us, Ness. Just know that I am down for matching jackets.” Jeff says, linking his hand with Paula’s other one and grabbing onto one of Poo’s.

“You will always have a place to stay in Dalaam, regardless of how urgently it is needed. I’ll need all of you too.” Poo completes the circle, and yeah, Ness is crying now. All of them are. It’s a bittersweet circle of promises and even though tears trickle down his face Ness can’t stop the wide grin that splits his face.

“Thanks, guys. I needed that.” He sniffs and brings up his hand to wipe at his face. “Wanna stay the night here? For old times sake?”

“You make it sound like we’re a bunch of geezers.” Paula laughs and tugs him to his feet. “Yeah, I’m cool with it.”

“Remember all the times you dragged up back here for the free healing? For a man with his father’s credit card you’re awfully stingy.” Jeff smiles, following behind as Ness starts to walk down the hill towards the inn.

“I believe that is what we call milking a golden cow.” Poo walks on his side, looking just a bit less worried about the future.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard that saying before.” Paula says.

“Really? It comes from a small story. One day, a woman finds a golden cow…”

Ness watches as his friends squabble about what culture has the most ridiculous saying, heart filled with so much love it feels it might burst. It’s not going to be easy, recovering from their battle with Giygas, but they sure are going to try.