Work Text:
You hesitate at the edge of Peake’s workspace, having knocked on the door and received no answer. You observe them silently, the dark circles under their eyes prominent as they gaze out of the small porthole in the side of the room that overlooks the Greenway in the far distance. Their work slate is in their hand, though the screen appears to have gone dark. You both have been working frantically to figure out a solution to the flux, mostly forgoing rest, until earlier this cycle when you insisted that you both needed a break. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t look like they’ve taken one.
“Peake?” you ask, quietly, but they startle anyway.
“Sleeper…” their tone guilty, “I swear I was getting around to that break.”
“Sure you were,” you say, raising an eyebrow and moving next to their desk. You tap a finger against the sleeping slate in their hands. “Put this thing down and let’s go.” You gesture with your head towards the open door. “How do you feel about noodles?”
They put down the slate, “noodles?”
“Yes,” you say, just managing to stifle a laugh.
“Fine. Um. Good?” they run a hand through their hair, looking at you quizzically.
“Good,” you say. “Mind if we run a quick errand on the way?”
“Sure...” they say, still unsure “on the way to where?”
You shoot them a wide grin, and don’t hold back the laugh this time, “to the noodles, Peake.”
They send you an exasperated glare in return. “Okay, fine, fine,” you relent, “I am overdue for dinner with some friends of mine, so I asked if I could bring a plus one.”
A complicated look that you have trouble parsing passes over their face, and they stiffen up, then seem to catch themselves, rolling their shoulders to force a more relaxed posture. “Oh, um, alright then. Noodles it is.” They glance at their slate, looking like they want to grab it, but you offer them your hand, pulling them up and out of their seat when they take it, and the two of you head out into the station, leaving the work behind.
You walk across the station in silence, the unfinished work obviously weighing on Peake, as their hand keeps twitching towards the pocket of their bag where their slate is normally kept. “Hey” you say, aiming for distraction, “you ever been in the Greenway?” taking the turn towards your preferred Greenway entrance when coming from this direction.
“In the Greenway?” they ask, shocked. “Sleeper, is that your errand?”
“Um. Yes?” Well, distraction achieved, you guess.
They laugh, tilting their head to the side, studying you, as you come to a stop outside of the bulkhead leading to the Greenway proper. “Well, no then, I have absolutely not been inside. All I’ve heard about the place is how dangerous it is.”
You shrug. “It’s only dangerous if you don’t know your way around.” You lay out the rules of the Greenway to them. Walk directly behind you, and don’t fall behind. Keep quiet, and only speak at a whisper.
You don’t need them getting a face-full of the wrong kind of spore. A trip to the medic at the commune would derail your entire evening. Not to mention entail far more social interaction than either of you are up to right now. A fresh face around Hypha always causes a stir. Though now that you think of it, maybe you should introduce them to Riko at some point, they may get along. Once the crisis of the flux has passed, of course.
Right. Greenway. “How does that sound?” you ask, “or you can stay out here and I’ll be back soon.” You hope they’ll come. The Greenway really is beautiful once you’ve puzzled out the secrets to traversing it safely.
“No, no, I’ll come,” they say, their curiosity winning out over their sense of caution. “Let’s go.”
You lead them slowly through the Greenway, taking the long (and safer) way to the clearing where you’ve been grabbing girolle caps lately when you need them. You haven’t had much growing in your beds in recent cycles, after getting a better handle on where the spores for the rarer mushrooms tend to be found. Luckily, the journey is uneventful, your time spent navigating the labyrinthine trails of the Greenway having paid off.
The clearing itself is verdant and green, the shorter ground covering plants a welcome respite from the close and winding shrubs, vines, and trees that take up most of the Greenway. You’ve made it your own, with a couple of crates you’ve dragged in to serve as a makeshift table and stool, the table full of small trinkets that you’ve found across the Greenway accented with a few personal effects. You tell Peake which parts of the clearing are safe, and they give you a silent nod and move towards the table.
You head over to the patch of girolle caps, happy to see them still thriving. You shrug off your pack, an old Solheim company bag that you found in your apartment and had promptly ripped off the company branding from, leaving frayed edges on one of the shoulder straps. You remove one of the mesh bags you use for foraging, and crouch down, angling towards Peake, so you can keep an eye on them as you work. As you start gathering the caps, you watch them picking up some of your trinkets. They don’t linger on the more mundane pieces, nuts, bolts, bulbs, and the like, but they do focus on some of the more sentimental things that have ended up here. A note from Tala: a list from an errand you ran for her during a shift at the Bantayan. A quarter of a sticker sheet of old Earth animals you meant to bring to Mina. Finally, an empty vial of stabilizer, likely one of the last you got from the clinic before that supply ran dry.
You see them freeze as they realize what they’re holding, and they promptly put it back on the table like they’d been holding something toxic. Their face tenses as a rare look of anger takes over their previously inquisitive expression, which then settles into melancholy as they let out a sigh. You can feel the outrage and helplessness radiating off of them, unfortunately not an unfamiliar mix of emotions for residents of The Eye. You turn your focus back to the girolle, leaving them to their thoughts.
After a few minutes, you’re sure you have enough for tonight’s needs, plus enough to barter for a day pass on the shuttle if need be. You’re not sure what kind of arrangements Peake has made in that regard, if any, and you know that a few servings of fresh girolle is plenty enough for the pilots to let you bring someone else along (at least it was when you brought Moritz with you for a job at Hypha).
You turn you focus back to Peake and see them with their gaze tilted up to look through the reinforced polymers that form the clear dome of the top of the Greenway. The juxtaposition of the cold lifelessness of space and the vibrant life of the Greenway has always been a reminder to you of your luck in making it here. You wonder what it says to Peake.
“Ready to go?” you ask, reticent to interrupt them, but also excited to get to the Low End.
“Sure, yeah,” they respond after a moment, the sadness on their face falling away to something more neutral. “Did we really come all this way for some mushrooms?”
You chuckle. “They’re a special request.”
You make your way out of the Greenway without any issues, and head towards the Low End once you make it over the crossing, with all of the girolle in tow. You didn’t end up needing the extra, as Peake already had a pass. You file that fact away for later, it’ll be useful if combating the flux ends up requiring some legwork.
Once you finally arrive, you stall outside the door to the apartment, noticing a look of anxiety on Peake’s face, the earlier tenseness having returned to their body. “You OK?,” you ask.
“I, um. Yeah. Yes, I guess,” they eventually get out. “I just… haven’t done anything like this, in…” they hesitate, “...a while.”
Oh. You should have guessed. It doesn’t seem like their time growing up at Hawthorne was particularly kind to them, and after stealing the Briar it had just been them and Eshe. You place a hand on their shoulder. “Peake,” you say, “we don’t have to go in if you don’t want to.” You wait a breath before continuing, “A break is supposed to be helpful, yeah? I’ve got an apartment across the way if you’re not up for meeting new people.”
They take a deep breath, “No, no, it’s alright. I’d like to do this,” they say, “just give me a few moments.” You nod, and drop your hand, moving to lean against the wall to give them some space. After a few deep breaths, they give you the go-ahead to proceed.
“Alright then,” you respond, moving a finger to hover over the buzzer. “Prepare yourself, it might get a little loud” you say with a grin.
As soon as you press the buzzer, you hear a shout of “Daddy, DOOOR!” from somewhere in the apartment, as the patter of little feet across poorly carpeted metal flooring starts to move towards you. Any stress left in your frame immediately melts away at the sound. It hasn’t been that long since you’ve been here, but the cycles have seemed to stretch recently, with the stakes as high as they are.
The door slides open, and you see Lem, looking significantly less tired than when the two of you first met. You think his new job with Midline has suited him more than working on the Sidereal ever did. Before you can give a greeting, a small human launches herself from the arm of the tattered couch and into your arms with a call of “Robot!!” You swing her around, gathering her into a hug.
“Hello Mina,” you chuckle, “did Lem not tell you I was coming over?”
“I thought it might be a nice surprise,” he interjects. “Hello Sleeper, ’sgood to see you.”
“Robot,” Mina says, quieter this time, and she gives your face a few clumsy pats before freezing as she notices Peake behind you. She immediately clings to you tighter, burying her face in your neck, suddenly shy.
“Ah. Yes,” you say. “Peake, this is Lem. And Mina,” you gesture with your free hand. “Lem and Mina, this is Peake. Think you can say hi to Peake, Mina?” She doesn’t lift her head, but does raise a hand in Peake’s general direction, opening and closing it a couple of times in a hello before wrapping it back around your neck.
“Nice to meet you Peake,” Lem says, and he offers them a hand to shake. “Any friend of Sleeper’s is a friend of ours. You’re very welcome here.” Peake shakes his hand, and you’re happy to see their previously tense shoulders relaxing slightly, and small grin starting to build on their face as they nod in reply.
“Mina…” you say, dragging out the ‘a’ in her name in persuasion, “Peake and I brought you girolle…” hoping that the mention of one of her favorite foods will entice her into some conversation.
“Noodle mushrooms!?” she asks excitedly, your ploy working. She brings her head up to look at you as you start walking into the small common area of the apartment. It isn’t much, containing a beat up couch, a recliner, and a small table that folds out from the wall, with flimsy, mismatched chairs around it.
“Mhmm,” you confirm. “Peake, do you think you could take off my bag and grab them? Also the bag of spices in the front pocket. I appear to have my hands full at the moment.”
“Sure, Sleeper,” they agree, fully grinning now. They help you extricate the straps, carefully avoiding touching Mina as she squirms angrily to stay out of their reach, then rustle through you bag, grabbing the girolle and the spices and handing them both to you.
Emphis wouldn’t give you the recipe, but he did let you know some of his ingredients. This bag of spices is your latest try to find something that lights up your taste sensors in the same kind of way that his cooking does. You take both bags and toss them to Lem, in what has become a fairly practiced maneuver between you. You bring the hard to find ingredients, and he cooks. Though his cooking used to be a little suspect, it’s actually become good lately after all of the trial and error you’ve had.
“This the latest experiment?” he asks. You nod and hum in confirmation. “Well then. You like spice Peake?” he asks. “Mina and Sleeper like it hot,” he says, “me, not so much, so it’s no trouble either way.”
“Oh. Um, I don’t know,” they pause to consider, “...let’s go easy for tonight.”
“Sounds good,” he says, already starting to move towards the kitchen. It’s really too small for more than one person, let alone four. “Meanie… can you watch over these two while I get dinner going?” he asks, shooting you a look that means something like, see if you can get her to open up, will you?
You chuckle, and Mina gives her own giggle and an incredulous “sure, Daddy…” to Lem, having seen straight through him.
The three of you move to the couch, Peake beside you and Mina moving to settle on your lap, as you ask about her escapades with the other kids on their floor. She catches you up on everything, her chatter emphasized with sweeping hand gestures. Gentle sounds of pots and pans being pulled out, chopping, then mushrooms sizzling emanate from the adjacent kitchen. At some point, Mina stops giving Peake wary looks whenever they speak, apparently they’re asking the right questions. Mina does tend to warm up eventually, both this and your first impromptu babysitting experience with her speaking to a pattern.
Mina moves on to show you her latest discovery: the camera function on her slate. She flicks through a near endless number of blurry photos, before coming to a clearer set taken at jarring angles. She demonstrates her technique, climbing off your lap to balance the slate on the edge of the couch cushion. She angles it up to take a photo of you, “like this, Robot,” with one hand balancing the slate, and the other touching the screen to initiate the image capture. She turns it around to show you the result. It’s a clear image, most of the top half showing the ceiling of the apartment, but the bottom showing you with an amused expression, eyes illuminated brightly, with Peake’s dark eyes popping up around your shoulder cautiously.
“Ooooh, that’s a good one!” you compliment. “Don’t you think, Peake?”
“Very good,” they agree. “Are you an artist, Mina?”
At that moment, the conversation is cut short as Lem enters from the kitchen with a call of “food’s ready!” He places the first two dishes at the table, and you grab the others from the kitchen in a routine honed from many meals spent together. You take your regular chair from the corner of the room, a sturdier metal folding chair you sourced yourself after your heavier constructed body buckled one of Lem’s, and place it with the others around the table. After their first bite, Peake’s eyes go wide, and they let out a groan of pleasure at the taste. Lem’s cooking is rather good, but you guess that this also is likely the first home cooked meal they’ve had in many cycles.
After compliments to the chef and the general small talk of a dinner, the topic of the blockade comes up when he asks Peake about themself. “Never agreed with that much,” Lem says around a mouthful of noodles, “such a nasty business.” He gestures to you, Mina, and himself. “We’re all refugees in our own way, lots of people here are.” He sighs. “Havenge can go fu—” he cuts himself off with a glance towards Mina, “I’m sorry that Havenge made it so hard on you is all.”
“I, uh, thanks, Lem,” they say, “luckily for us we had some assistance getting the supplies out to the flotilla in time.” They send a grateful look your way. “Sleeper really knows their way around this place.”
Lem nods. “Sleeper always helps,” he says, sending you a soft glance.
“That they do,” Peake agrees.
“Robot is my friend,” Mina adds emphatically, smacking the butt of her fork against the table to drive her point home.
That is far too many eyes looking at you for one moment, and you go quiet for longer than is socially acceptable. “Well...” you say “I think Peake was interested in seeing some art before we started eating. Think you can show them your gallery Mina?” You gesture at the row of drawings and paintings above the couch, stuck to the wall with bits of magnet. “I need to talk to Lem about some boring stuff for a little bit.”
“Hmmmm…” she says, crossing her arms in thought, pausing to consider your request. “Okay. C’mon Sleeper’s friend!” She holds up her hand for Peake to take. Peake freezes, an almost awestruck look on their face. They take the offered hand, and Mina drags them over to the couch.
“Time for the bad news then?” Lem asks cautiously. You nod, a little guilty, and start to catch them up on your work to stop the flux, keeping your voice low and angling your chair away from Peake and Mina to be sure she can’t overhear. You give him the gist. If he is surprised that you are once again embroiled in large-scale life-and-death matters, he does a good job of hiding it. “Shit. Sleeper, this is... a lot,” he says.
“Yeah,” you say through a massive sigh. You agree to keep him updated, “but I really think we’ll figure it out,” you conclude. You hope it isn’t just wishful thinking.
Lem puts a comforting hand on yours, giving you a small squeeze of reassurance, then his gaze flits to peer directly over your shoulder. His eyes soften and he lets out a small snort of laughter. “Well, it looks like she’s officially warmed up, doesn’t it?”
You turn around to see Mina standing on the couch next to a seated Peake, the art show having been abandoned, her hands piling as much of their hair on top of their head as she can manage. Several brightly colored clips have materialized from… somewhere, and have ended up in their hair as well. Peake’s eyes are closed, but they appear to be listening intently to Mina’s expert instructions, as they tilt their head back when commanded, subtly wincing a little as their hair gets tugged further.
“Seems that way,” you agree, trying and failing to hold back a trill of laughter of your own. Hearing it, Peake’s eyes open and turn your way, and they shoot you a quick, shining grin before turning their attention back to Mina. After the interruption, your conversation with Lem turns to less serious matters, as you trade gossip. He catches you up on the Low End news and you contribute news from other parts of the station. The last time you talked, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to be self sufficient in producing stabilizer via your beds, but tonight you excitedly update him of your newfound confidence on the matter.
“Oh, that’s wonderful news, Sleeper!” he exclaims softly. After the first time he had to assist you on a shift (with some of the more precise work because your hands wouldn’t stop shaking), you explained the harsh reality of the stabilizer to him. He’s made it a habit to check up on you from time to time since then. Once, during your time working off Ethan’s tab, he even gave you a small vial of stabilizer with a don’t ask where I got it, Sleeper, just take it. You bring yourself back to the current moment, and share in his excitement for you, smiling in agreement as Mina crawls up into your lap.
She tugs on your arm, then puts a finger to her lips with a quiet “shhhhh, Robot, your friend is sleepy.” You nod your head to Mina, and briefly put a finger against your own mouth in agreement. You turn to face the couch again to investigate. Peake is sitting in mostly the same spot as when you last saw them, but now their body is fully resting against the back of the couch, head tilted back, with their mouth slightly open in sleep and hair still fairly mussed from Mina’s ministrations.
Lem looks between you and them, and your face must be doing… something… because he raises an eyebrow, giving you an amused and pointed look. “Well. Mina,” he says, turning to put a hand on her head and ruffle her hair, “it’s about that time, say goodnight to Sleeper.” To you, he says, “you’re both welcome to stay the night if you’d like.”
After listening to several pleas from Mina, you agree to stay “as long a Peake’s comfortable with it too, Mina, alright?” It certainly wouldn’t be the first time you’ve stayed here, and Mina is always excited to see you at breakfast time when you do. Plus, it makes her bedtime easier for Lem, with him not having to deal with a drawn-out goodbye before their normal routine.
Lem dims the lights on the way to his and Mina’s small shared bedroom, quickly returning to toss you a couple of spare blankets. “I can be out in a few if you’d care for a drink before you turn in?” he asks. “We can celebrate the, uh… special mushrooms? Stabilizer mushrooms?” he laughs quietly, “Whatever we’re calling them.”
“Sure,” you agree, grinning as you watch him move back towards his room. You set one of the blankets aside, and stand, moving to crouch in front of the couch where Peake rests. You give their shoulder a gentle shake and whisper their name.
After a few seconds, their nose scrunches lightly, their eyes slowly blinking open. “Sl’p’r?” they mumble, a little confused.
“We’re still at Lem and Mina’s. You fell asleep on the couch,” you relay. “Lem’s good with us staying if you are…” you hold up the blanket in your hand as proof.
“Mmm, yeah, sure. If ‘s not t’much trouble,” they say, already appearing to be on their way back towards sleep, their blinks starting to slow.
“No trouble at all, Peake,” you say reassuringly. “Now, c’mon,” you grab them a pillow, and start to gently guide them into a less upright position.
They interrupt your covering them with the blanket by reaching up and grabbing your wrist. “Sl’p’r?” they ask again, drowsily.
“Mhmm?”, you hum.
“...th’nks,” they say softly, “f’r... t’nght…” they trail off, hand already slackening on your wrist in sleep.
“’Course Peake,” you whisper, gently placing their hand back down on the couch, “rest well.”
You quietly move back to the table, grabbing the dishes and folding the table back up into the wall once you’ve cleared it. Once you’ve finished cleaning the bowls and placing them into the sanitizer, you move back to the common area, grabbing the second blanket and settling in to the recliner to wait for Lem. You let your thoughts drift, content just listening to the muffled sounds of the Low End and the very low hum of the Eye while you wait. A few or many minutes later, you hear Lem’s signature shuffle approaching.
He holds out an empty glass for you to take, “will you be alright in the recliner tonight?” he asks, “it’s a little cramped.”
“I’ll be alright,” you ensure with a small laugh, taking the offered glass. “I’ve slept in much worse places, Lem, this’ll be perfectly fine.”
“Okay, okay,” he agrees, pouring you a glass of some of Tala’s newest batch, “it’s not like I have anywhere else to offer you anyways.”
For some time, you just enjoy the drink and company in silence, which you appreciate after the busyness of the last few cycles. Eventually, Lem gestures towards the sleeping Peake, “they alright?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you say, “just exhausted.” You set down your empty glass next to the recliner. “Should’ve seen it coming, really. I did drag them on a trek through the Greenway, then across the station to meet new people. After several days of next to no rest,” you explain.
He huffs out a laugh, “wow, Sleeper, a true Eye initiation. Glad to have made the cut.” His expression turns nervous, like he’s unsure of what he’s about to say. “So… are the two of you…?” he trails off, but the implication is clear.
You shrug, glad you are unable to blush. “Hmm. No, we aren’t.” You sigh. “It feels like there’s something there, but we’ve both been dealing with crisis after crisis since we’ve know each other.” Your time on the Eye has been a sprint since cycle one, always only a step or two in front of disaster, and it has been weighing on you. You desperately hope you’ll have time to come up for air soon. “Maybe, if we’re both still alive and on the station after the flux is dealt with, we’ll talk. If they want that.”
“That makes sense, Sleeper,” he says, and breaks eye contact, “and if I also wanted to talk?”
Oh. Oh. You really have been missing things. Though looking back, the two of you have been taking care of each other since you first met. While not inherently romantic, that sort of mutual care is a strong foundation for deeper relationships of all kinds. So maybe this shouldn’t be surprising... and it certainly isn’t unwelcome. “Then I’ll make some time for a second talk,” you say, before you can fully spiral into overthinking this whole situation.
“Hmm. Good,” he says, contented, relaxing back into his chair. You slip back into companionable silence again as you both get lost in your own thoughts. For you, good ones for a change.
Eventually, Lem breaks the silence. “Alright, Sleeper, think I’m off to bed. See you in the morning. I’m glad you both could make it tonight.”
“Me too,” you agree, “Night Lem.” As he leaves, and you start to get settled in, your thoughts turn to the future. For the first time, you let yourself consider that things may work out. With that treacherous thought, you let the soft sounds of your home, Peake’s slow breaths, and the thoughts of those you care for lull you into a peaceful rest.