Chapter Text
“Yeah, well, maybe I deserve it, Hazel.
“Oh, you definitely do, but thank you for doing the right thing.”
Dev found himself standing in the middle of his bedroom. He couldn’t remember what he was doing or why his head felt weirdly fuzzy. He could’ve sworn he was just having a conversation though. Turning in a circle, nobody was in the room with him. He was alone. But he could’ve sworn, wasn’t he just talking to… “Hazel…?”
Silence answered him. No returning shout, no footsteps dashing to his door. “She’s not here,” he mumbled, “But I thought… we were just talking, weren’t we?” A wave of dizziness rolled through the boy, causing him to stagger and grab at his skull. Dragging himself onto the oversized bed, Dev rolled on his back, looking at the non-existent ceiling. Something felt… wrong. He was just talking to Hazel, he felt so, so certain of it.
It took an uncomfortable amount of time for him to remember his phone- of course, a phone call, that must’ve been it. Dev grabbed it from his pocket, the lock screen lighting up with that image of him and Hazel goofing around, taken shortly after they’d officially become friends. He couldn’t help but smile at it, but its usual comfort fell away when he noticed the time and date. Friday, 9:30pm. He frantically swiped into his call history- nothing, he hadn’t called Hazel today or even especially recently. “Of course not, why the hell would we be talking this late at night? I must’ve… imagined it, I guess?”
The words tasted like lies. Something usually easy for Dev, but he couldn’t convince himself that it was the truth. He kept noticing the details that didn’t make sense. If it was this late, why had he been just standing in his room instead of lying in his bed? Why was he still in his everyday clothes, not pajamas? Why was his hair still full of gel when he washed it out every night? This was wrong, something was wrong. He almost considered calling out to his father as the anxiety built in his chest. But he couldn’t do it- Dale wouldn’t come anyway. That was a truth that suddenly felt crystal clear.
Dev tried to focus- what had he been doing right before this moment? It couldn’t be nothing, you’re always doing something. He just needed to think. And breathe- he should definitely be breathing more slowly. On reflex, he navigated to the disguised app in his phone that held his calming techniques and diligently followed the breathing exercises. Better, that’s better. Okay, now you think.
Without really meaning to, he found himself reviewing memories with Hazel. The day of the treasure hunt was as fresh in his mind as the day it happened. One of the happiest ones he had. Founder’s Day next- it’d been going so well up until his dad started freaking out about Hazel not buying things. Dev had kept him from figuring out the anomaly was her but both he and Hazel fumbled their communication hard that day. She’d snapped at him and then abandoned him at the park entrance before he could explain himself.
I should’ve followed her, insisted on explaining. But I was too scared to do it… And that night… Dev blinked hard, startled by the pricking sensation of forming tears at the back of his eyes. He’d been curled up in bed, upset by his father’s actions, totally devastated by Hazel’s words, feeling positively miserable… and he’d cried himself to sleep that night. Uncomforted and alone with his thoughts.
What happened after that? Hazel and I made up… right? At the museum sleepover with our class, we had… what exactly did we do? He scrambled for the phone again, finding their text history. He hadn’t deleted a single message between them, determined to keep track of every interaction in case anything significant happened- though he wasn’t sure what he’d even consider a significant interaction. It was all still there.
Dev figured he’d scroll back through to jog his memory, but didn’t get that far. His stomach dropped through the floor when he saw the last message- sent nearly 4 weeks ago, from Hazel. It was an apology, for how his birthday had turned out and an offer to talk about it when he was ready. Dev had never replied.
The phone was promptly hurled into a pillow- Dev couldn’t stand to look at its bright light for another second, he felt like he was going to throw up. The birthday party, oh god no, not that… It was a wretched memory. He’d been disappointed by his father’s lack of involvement, despite it being the same every year, but it’d been a little better because Hazel was there. She’d given him a super-rare copy of a Prime Meridian Love issue (and something else he was blanking on), everything had been okay. Then that horrible ‘party princess’ had shown up and practically enslaved all his guests, ruining his party.
They’d managed to kick her out- him, Hazel, Jasmine, and Winn, helped along by the presence of Hazel’s odd neighbours. They’d been chaperoning his party apparently but of course wandered off while Vicky was tormenting them. Thinking about them made him feel uncomfortable, like he was forgetting something especially important. He couldn’t recall their names.
The details of what came next were fuzzy. Was it the stress of the ruined party, which would likely destroy his reputation at school? Was it his frustration at his dad’s lack of care- yeah, that had definitely been part of it, something about his dad. The exact trigger eluded Dev but he was able to painfully remember what he had done. He yelled at Hazel- he’d screamed at her, saying that she’d tricked him into being ‘friends’, that he didn’t need her (liar), for her to get out and leave him alone (liar, liar, you didn’t want that). And she had left him, but not without whispering ‘Happy Birthday’ as she went.
Dev almost took it back, almost followed her- instead he was a fool and a coward and he stayed behind in that strange room. A room in this building that he had never seen before or since- the only thing he really recalled was it being dark and having a large projection screen. It was the same thing as Founder’s Day. Just a blur of unchecked emotion, the exact reasons refusing to reveal themselves, hiding in the corners of Dev’s mind, denying him any closure. He just wanted to know what he’d done wrong. How else was he meant to fix it if he couldn’t even remember what happened?
Bile rose in his throat, a pit of guilt collapsing inside him. The breathing exercises weren’t helping, he could tell his heart was beating way too fast. Something’s wrong, something’s wrong… I’m wrong. It’s me… causing problems, hurting people. I did something bad, something really, really bad. And I hurt Hazel doing it. I hurt her and I’ll never be able to fix it because I can’t even remember what I did!
Dev forced himself to sit up, coughing violently. He’d nearly cut off his own breathing in his panic, only now registering that he’d started crying again. The images flickered tauntingly in his mind. The visuals might’ve been vague but the attached feelings were brutal in their clarity. So much pain and fighting and regret.
Dev knew he still wanted her to be his friend, even through all of the hurt, that desire never faded away. Would she believe him, if he told her that? Had he waited too long, how could an apology even hope to repair this? He wanted to stop thinking about this, the disturbing lack of sharpness in his memories was a nightmare. Had he hit his head recently? He couldn’t remember that either.
Too exhausted to fight the tears, Dev curled in on himself, head to his knees. It was so terribly familiar. He mumbled into the dim emptiness, barely understanding his own words: “I’m sorry, I’m sorry… this isn’t what I wanted. I didn’t mean to hurt her, to hurt everyone. I want to fix it, but if I can’t… If I could just remember, I could make it better. I just need to… I just- I just wish I could…” Wishing… as if that would help him now.
… … … … … … …
The magic tossed him backwards like he’d been electrocuted. Pink mist crackled in the air, a scent akin to freshly-baked cupcakes flooding his nostrils. Dev’s eyes flared with a golden light and the memories crashed back in like a tsunami, washing over the altered and blurry replacements.
Peri appearing in his moment of misery. Finding out Hazel had fairies. That entire day they spent together in Fairy World. The full details of the birthday fight. Irep. Anti-Fairies. Plotting against Da Rulez. Taking over Fairy World. Magical back-up. His dad rejecting him again over business. Peri, even close to death, saying he still cared about Dev. Dropping the whole plan, now willing to be defeated. Hazel quietly telling him that he’d get his memory wiped for this, but she was grateful he had changed his mind in the end. But he still deserved that punishment, even Hazel believed that. A punishment delivered by Jorgen, having his memories scrubbed of magic. And yet… and yet…
Dev sat bolt upright, catching the last bits of sparkling clouds fading away. He held his hands over his mouth, not trusting himself to not speak something dangerous out loud, forced to breathe heavily through his nose. The tears were still flowing- whether they were sorrowful or of manic joy, he couldn’t be sure.
I… I remember. I can remember everything. But I was supposed to forget, that was the punishment! I deserved it! No… no, I did forget, those were altered memories just a second ago. I just got them back- something gave them back to me. That shouldn’t be possible. How and why? Or who… did somebody do this?
Dev nearly called out a different name, the now-recallable name of his former godparent, but caught himself. No! You can’t say anything, nobody can know that you remember. Besides, Peri wouldn’t do this, he was a stickler for those rules, even if he did care about you.
The boy released a massive breath, slowly sliding down onto his stomach. Take stock of the situation, Dev. What information is most vital? All of his memories involving magic and fairies had returned intact. How, why, and by whom (if anyone) were answers he didn’t have. It was too soon to speculate. Considering he hadn’t heard any commotion from his father, it was safe to assume that this ‘anomaly’ had only affected Dev himself. Which was a good thing.
Now, Dev definitely wasn’t supposed to have these memories. They’d been erased/altered- and Peri removed as his fairy godparent- as punishment for his takeover of Fairy World and revealing the existence of fairies to humanity. Which meant if Jorgen found out, he’d inflict that on Dev again and he’d be stuck with the dreadful vague guilt from those replaced thoughts.
So… he couldn’t tell Hazel. Dev remembered exactly what he had done to hurt her, he could precisely express that he understood what he’d done wrong and apologize properly for it- except he couldn’t, because it’d mean giving up his memories again.
That was what he deserved, something Hazel had agreed with. It was wrong and sneaky and selfish but… he couldn’t bear to give them up. What else did he have at this point? He had screwed up and lost Peri, the closest thing to a real parental figure he’d ever really had. He might’ve lost Hazel as his friend too, though that was a bit more uncertain.
Would she still want to be friends, believing that he had forgotten the terrible things he’d done while she remembered them? Dev considered it, realizing with a start that he could still see the altered memories. They were in there, floating behind the real memories. If he focused, he could see them with clarity.
It was an odd sensation but… that could be useful. Dev kind of doubted that Jorgen would’ve been generous enough to tell Hazel the specifics of what his memories looked like now, that really didn’t read as something in the muscle-head’s nature. Maybe if Hazel was concerned enough to pester him for that information, but it’d still take her time to pry it out.
However, even if she didn’t know the finer points, Dev being able to access the alternate version of events could be extremely helpful to him. He could play the part. Act precisely as those memories would dictate, avoiding any suspicion that the wiping spell hadn’t worked- or rather, had been reverted. He would just have to hope it would be enough.
I mean, keeping your knowledge of fairies secret is the number one rule. It’s the same thing you were doing before you found out Hazel had fairy godparents herself. You can do that. Maybe one day I’ll be able to interact with her and the magical world openly but for now… I’ll apologize for what I can and hope we can still be friends.
It might’ve been a weekend night, but it was getting late and the whiplash of losing and regaining his turbulent memories had left Dev exhausted. But there was no way he was going to sleep without washing that stupid gel out of his hair first. As he always did, he caught himself staring at his hair for a few minutes afterwards. He really didn’t understand why his father insisted on tamping down their naturally curly hair every single day. It took so much gel, it was so annoying. Sometimes it felt like he was looking at a different person when he saw those ginger curls in the mirror. But that wasn’t a different person- it was him, maybe the real him?
He recalled the stomach-churning reality of how little Dale cared for him, that the only ‘concern’ he ever expressed was if Dev did something that could reflect poorly on the Dimmadome name. It sucked but after what happened in Fairy World, Dev was done fighting against it. He was done pining for his father’s approval, or even just for his attention.
Why waste his energy on a man who was so uninterested in being a father that he had drones essentially raise his kid? The most input that Dale had in his life was controlling Dev’s appearance- forcing him to gel his hair back like him, only wearing black, white, and gold, made to look like a stupid duplicate of the older man. That and making him do things like hand out those bracelets for Founder’s Day.
Dev decided he couldn’t be bothered with it anymore. From now on, he resolved to treat Dale in the same manner- nothing personal, all business. Their interactions would be more like negotiations than conversations and Dev already had ideas for some ‘deals’ that needed discussing. But that could wait until tomorrow. Right now, all Dev wanted was to curl up in bed and drift away into sleep, hoping for pleasant dreams pulled from those precious good memories.
I’ll do my best to make up for this, I promise.