Work Text:
Curly isn't quite sure when he was found, or how it happened, he was never given the details even when he started his treatment and therapy, but now the wreck of the Tulpar was a thing of the past. The vision he had of those horrendous days lying on a stretcher unable to do anything but cry and complain was blurry up to that point. After that, there's only white, bright lights, and people around him fighting to keep him alive…
Along with the last piece of Jimmy that existed in his belly back then.
Oh, Curly had big plans back then. The desire to change his lifestyle, to travel, to try new things, to have a family… Maybe it was the fact that he was going to talk Jimmy out of that last idea, with his ridiculous heroic thought that Jimmy had enough problems to take on something so big.
Curly still believes that was what unleashed Jimmy's fury.
He wonders if, with Anya, Daisuke and Swansea, Jimmy is still there, lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood and a hole in his head. His friends, on the ship, in the middle of nowhere, waiting for him for one more party.
If Jimmy is waiting for him, wherever he should be, in hell maybe… His unspoken love.
Although, to himself, he wants to believe that the piece Jimmy left behind, makes Jimmy still there.
“I-I’m sowwy, I’Im sowwy…” The small, high-pitched voice brings him out of dissociation and Curly looks down. A pair of small hands try to put his right prostatic leg back, he sees the soccer ball he bought last week a few feet away from him. “I-I didn’t want to hit yursh robot leg.”
Curly then looks at Boy, sees how nervous he is and how he tries to repair the small disaster of his dislocated prosthesis.
Curly's breathing hitches a little when Boy touches him on the knee. As clumsily as can be, Boy (not quite correctly) puts his prosthetic leg back into the socket. He doesn't do it right, he's only four, but in other ways Boy is very clever, like passing him painkillers (adult gummies) or speaking through sign language when Curly's throat feels scratchy enough to say prayers (ninja language).
He's a good kid. Curly feels bad for not giving him a name yet, even though he'll be entering kindergarten soon.
Curly could name the kid… if only it weren't so hard to look him in the eyes.
Curly brown hair, tan skin, and black eyes, full of warmth unlike the cold emptiness of Jimmy's eyes.
Why did he have to look so much like Jimmy and not Curly?
Boy kneels on the floor, looking at him expectantly.
Curly sighs. Boy is afraid of him. He's not surprised.
“You fixed it.” Curly says. “Good boy.”
Boy is four years old and every day he becomes more like Jimmy, and Curly continues to suffer because of it.