Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Uranus felt himself start to shiver as he pulled his hood over his head, skimming the void in front of him for any sign of Neptune. Every time he made the trek out to the other’s orbit, he was reminded just how dark, cold, and… far it was.

“Neptune? Mate?” He called out, a couple asteroids shifting in the distance as he walked. “Where are you?” 

His voice quickly vanished into the void, no response coming back. Uranus rubbed the edge of his coat sleeve between his fingers, looking for any trace of the other blue ice giant. 

It was strange, Uranus thought that Neptune had reached the point in his orbit where they were somewhat closer together. But Neptune was nowhere in sight and his gravitational pull was weaker than it should be. Was he… avoiding him? The usual doubts about whether or not anyone even tolerated his presence popped up, but Uranus pushed them away with practised ease. 

Neptune often travelled just outside of his orbit, he might have just been in the Kuiper Belt for some reason. Didn’t Neptune say that he liked it once? 

Taking a deep breath, Uranus closed his eyes, stretching out his senses for the faint thread of Neptune’s gravity. With practiced ease—when hadn’t it been difficult to find Neptune?—Uranus grasped onto his, opening his eyes to find it lightly tugging at him from a slight angle, too far away to be from his orbit.

Huh.

Uranus started to float towards Neptune, far in the distance, only to hesitate. It had been ages since he last saw Neptune, wouldn’t it be out of place if he reappeared for just a casual chat? Who knew if Neptune was busy with something, maybe he was collecting asteroids, and didn’t want to talk. Or… it really had been ages since Uranus last talked to Neptune. Maybe Neptune didn’t want to talk for… other… reasons. 

Shielding his eyes from the light of the Sun, Uranus turned around, locating Saturn and Jupiter with practised ease. They were too far away for him to see any exact details, though it looked like Saturn was showing Jupiter… something. It was probably the same conversation he left them to, who knows how long ago. 

Uranus looked away, then down at his own feet. Should he head back to them or try his luck with Neptune? Uranus wasn’t sure what Jupiter and Saturn had been talking about. He hadn’t been able to join their conversation when he tried, before it started to feel like he was intruding. 

It had been bloody awkward, the sheer memory of it causing Uranus to wince. He turned back towards the looming darkness, starting to pick on his sleeve again. Neptune was usually decent conversation. Or he was when Uranus regularly visited him. Which was ages ago.

Uranus bit the inside of his cheek, nodding to himself as he set off again, tucking his hands into his pockets. 

He still wanted to talk to Jupiter and Saturn, they were both so nice to him, nicer than he deserved, but they clearly didn’t want to talk to him today. Uranus didn’t think he said anything wrong, but yet again, neither of them even looked at him when he tried to slide into their conversation. Was it his hair? His rings? His tilt?

Uranus fixed his gaze firmly outward, away from the Sun. At least Neptune was always nice to him, always ignored his strange appearance, his tilt of 82.23 degrees, and his retrograde rotation. Saturn didn’t even acknowledge his existence last time he tried to get his attention. 

Though in a way, Neptune completely ignored him. It was always Uranus who made the first move, who visited him in his far out orbit. 

Uranus sped up his movement slightly, not wanting to spend days upon days just travelling to Neptune. He didn’t know how Neptune lived with an orbit that averaged a distance of 30 AU, when his own average distance of 19 AU left it so hard to talk to others. 

Taking one hand out of his pocket, he roughly brushed some of his hair out of his eyes and behind an ear. Neptune had always been better at talking to other planets, even if he was always the first to be done socializing for the day. It was just Uranus’ problem that he struggled so much, Neptune was completely fine. 

With a sigh, Uranus started to put his hand back in his pocket, only to spot an asteroid getting pulled towards him. He reached out, catching it as it slingshotted around him, before throwing it back towards where he thought its orbit was. Maybe… he should just go back and try his luck with Jupiter and Saturn again.

It had been ages since he last spoke to Neptune, he was probably busy with… hmmm… something. How is Uranus to know what the other planet does while alone? Maybe he was still finding new asteroids to add to his collection. 

Neptune still had an asteroid collection, didn’t he? 

The passing thought somehow caused Uranus to halt in his tracks for a moment, losing the distant thread of Neptune’s gravity. The last time he talked, actually talked, to Neptune was ages ago at least a dozen of his orbits prior. He had complained about Jupiter and Saturn, then about his own moons being colder than usual to him. Neptune hadn’t said anything about his asteroid collection then, though he probably didn’t want to interrupt Uranus. Which was bloody stupid of him, he should have asked Neptune about himself instead of being a selfish mistake of a planet. 

Uranus twiddled his hands together, looking around where he stopped, which clearly felt like someone’s orbit; Neptune’s orbit. 

There were the distinct signs of moved asteroids, small rocks that would lazily drift back to their orbits unless held in place. Squinting at the nearest one, Uranus couldn’t tell if it was something that Neptune had moved on purpose, or simply something that he accidentally swept up. All asteroids looked pretty much the same. 

Feeling stupid, Uranus grabbed it with his gravity, rotating it in his grasp. It looked like a rock. What was he even looking for? He knew nothing about asteroids. 

Shaking his head, Uranus released it, letting it slowly float around him. He didn’t know why Neptune liked them so much. They’re just rocks. Maybe it was because the nearby Kuiper Belt was the only thing his orbit had? It was a pretty bad thing though, Uranus didn’t know how Neptune would even be able to move without disrupting it and accidentally capturing asteroids. There had to be something that Uranus was missing, something his useless self didn’t understand.  

Uranus looked away, grabbing onto the now much stronger pull of Neptune’s gravity to lead him, narrowing his eyes as it pulled him closer to the Kuiper Belt. He’d been joking when he thought that Neptune might have been in the Kuiper Belt. Almost warily, Uranus set off again, feeling as the density of asteroids around him slowly increased.  

“Bloody hell, how does Neptune orbit here without being bombarded.” Uranus muttered to himself, incredulous. There had to be some sort of trick he wasn’t getting.  

Finally, bloody finally, Uranus caught a glimpse of Neptune’s unmistakable blue hue. He started to move towards it, only to halt in his path as a handful of new asteroids started to circle him, one falling into his atmosphere. 

How the bloody hell had Neptune gotten that deep inside of the Kuiper Belt without sweeping open a large path? 

Blinking in confusion, Uranus called out, “Mate, how did you get there?” 

There was no response. 

With a huff, Uranus crossed his arms. Fine, maybe Neptune was focused on an asteroid or something, but he thought he would have been bloody loud enough to hear. Uranus started to advance again, preparing to make his own path, only to notice a gap in the Kuiper Belt on his right. 

Leaning over, Uranus squinted, the gap getting larger as he moved closer to it, just large enough to fit Neptune. Oh. 

Uranus stepped towards the gap, shoving aside a few asteroids to make it larger. They flew off in the void, a few oddly bending around him as he knocked them out of orbit. There was the distinct feeling of at least one more asteroid falling into his atmosphere, but Uranus ignored it. His fine gravity control wasn’t anywhere near as good as Neptune’s, just another thing that he was bad at. 

“Neptune, it took so long to find you!” Uranus started, as he walked closer to Neptune, breaking the silence of the void. “I don’t know why you’re in the Kuiper Belt, but—”

Neptune fully came into view and the final words never left Uranus’ mouth. Uranus felt his core drop as he stared, crossing the last few hundred thousand kilometres in an instant. 

Neptune laid unmoving, eyes closed as his loose hair ballooned around him, his mouth slightly ajar.  

“Hey mate?” Uranus said, squashing down the rising panic as Neptune didn’t respond. He reached a hand out, to shake Neptune, to do something, only to pull back. 

He had no idea if Neptune was injured, or what had happened, but at the very least Neptune looked to be still alive, not a mass of planet sized debris. But if he touched him, Neptune could crumble apart in his hands.

“Neptune?” Uranus breathed out, starting to spin around the other as he examined his surface. There weren't any signs of an impact, no new rings, no marks or blemishes other than a few darkened storm systems. 

But why was he unconscious? When had he gotten hurt? Uranus frantically scanned the small clearing, for something, anything, any sign of debris or turmoil. 

In a panic, Uranus felt the sudden realization that he had no way to know how long ago Neptune had been injured flow over him. It could have been over a full orbit of his own ago, maybe even directly after the last time he saw Neptune. All traces would have been completely wiped away.

Uranus nudged Neptune with his gravity, eliciting no response. Neptune didn’t even stabilize himself, swaying slightly. 

Stars, Uranus was a horrible friend. Neptune may have been laying there, unnoticed for so long that any wounds already closed over. Uranus had the closest orbit to him, he should have bloody noticed something!  

“—Neptune—Are you—I—” Uranus started, his words blending together as he lightly shook Neptune with his gravity, again. No reaction.

Grabbing onto Neptune with his gravity—with slight difficulty, Neptune was more massive than him despite having a smaller radius—Uranus started to thoroughly examine him, floating so that he was slightly above Neptune. He had to do something, Uranus wasn’t the best planet for any of this, he never was! 

Mass, no change. Uranus squinted at Neptune’s unconscious face, peaceful despite the injuries that must have happened. Axial tilt, no change. Or at least nothing felt different, what if Uranus had missed something and Neptune was going to die and it was his bloody fault for not noticing sooner?!

Tilting his head to look at Neptune’s atmosphere, it looked the same upon first glance—only for Uranus’ core to stutter as he inhaled sharply.

There were dark storms on Neptune’s face and hands that Uranus had never seen before, clear indication that something had happened. Only Neptune always had stronger winds and more active weather than Uranus so it was completely normal! 

Uranus buried his hands in his face, letting out a muffled sound. Stars, what was his bloody problem?! He couldn’t do anything right, let alone figure out what was wrong with Neptune! 

Why was Neptune unconscious?! What had Uranus done wrong?! He had to fix it, nobody else was around, but he had never been able to fix anything, only cause more problems!

“Neptune, please,” Uranus said, trying far too hard to say the right thing when Neptune wouldn’t even be able to hear it! He reached out with his hands, directly shaking Neptune’s shoulders, Neptune only swayed with the movement, breathing still steady. “What the bloody hell happened—?” 

Uranus froze, eyes widening; what was clearly a tiny, sleeping moon rested on Neptune’s other shoulder, almost hidden by his hair. 

His breath catching in his throat, Uranus’ eyes quickly darted between her and Neptune. He had rarely interacted with them, but it was clear that Neptune’s moons all cared deeply about their planet, even his singular larger moon who pretended he didn’t. Unlike Uranus’ own moons, who would probably abandon him in a corebeat if it even was possible. Neptune’s moons cared about him too much, they wouldn’t just act as if Neptune wasn’t hurt. 

Then… Neptune wasn’t injured?

Uranus stepped back, releasing Neptune before half collapsing on his feet. Pure relief, but above all, confusion blossomed in his core. Neptune couldn’t be hurt, if he was, his moons would have ran to the closest planet who could help. Which would be… him. 

On his knees now, Uranus took a deep breath, before fully taking in Neptune. 

Neptune laid unmoving, eyes closed as his loose hair ballooned around him, his mouth slightly ajar, his breathing steady.  

Upon second glance, at least a quarter of his small moons were clearly visible, fast asleep and curled up around their planet. The singular larger moon was also sleeping nearby, leaning against Neptune’s side sleepily moving, only half awake. 

Uranus hesitated, his hands uncomfortably twisting as he watched the scene. He must have dislodged the moon in his panic. The moon readjusted himself, nuzzling closer to Neptune, movement ceasing.

Neptune wasn’t hurt, he was… asleep.

He stared, open mouthed, before Uranus looked away, face flushing. He had panicked over… bloody nothing! 

Pulling himself into a more comfortable sitting position, Uranus buried his face in his hands, again, letting out a groan.  

How was Neptune sleeping, again?

“…Neptune?” He softly said, floundering for a moment as he didn’t respond. He didn’t know why he expected Neptune to, Neptune was bloody sleeping! “I’m, uh…” 

Uranus started to move towards Neptune again, only to hesitate and pull back. Shifting slightly, he looked away, rubbing the back of his neck before he shoved his hands back into his pockets. What was he doing?!

It was just like the last time he tried to visit Neptune, except this time, he managed to make an even bigger fool of himself.

The last time he sought Neptune out, it had been a little over an orbit prior. Less than the amount of time it took for Neptune to complete one of his own orbits. And yet again it had been because Uranus was too pathetic to join Jupiter and Saturn’s conversation, yet still wanted someone to talk to. 

Uranus shifted slightly, biting his lip as he looked at the void behind Neptune, before sighing and looking at his own feet. 

Neptune had been sleeping then too. Uranus didn’t want to wake him up, so he simply turned around and left once he realized. 

It was just unlucky that the one time Uranus wanted to talk to Neptune, he was sleeping. It took bloody ages for any of the larger planets to need sleep. Uranus could barely remember the last time he became tired enough to sleep, dozens of orbits prior. Neptune should be in the same boat, with at least half as many of his own orbits between each nap. 

And yet… here Neptune was. Asleep again. Uranus felt the start of a bad feeling rise in his core, though he wasn’t sure what it was. Looking back at Neptune, he found himself watching how the other planet slowly rotated in his sleep. 

At least it made sense for Neptune’s moons to be asleep. They were bloody tiny. They probably dozed off at every other moment, just like Uranus’ own little moons. 

Maybe whatever it was, was Uranus’ fault. Maybe he had become a large enough cosmic mistake that it was starting to rub off on everyone else around him. Maybe Neptune just took longer to need sleep, but slept for much longer stretches of time. 

With a grumble, Uranus settled his head into his arms. As far as he could tell, he slept much more often than most other planets, mostly in spurts of one or two rotations rather than the extremely rare years long stretches that Saturn had. Which was just another abnormal thing of his that showed just how much he didn’t belong. 

But for Neptune to still be asleep after so long, he must have not slept for millions of years. 

Uranus winced, pushing aside that train of thought. Neptune had his own life, he always had been sort of strange—in a good way rather than like Uranus—it might just be another… thing… that he did. Uranus wasn’t going to judge, it might be what everyone else did, and he had just been too pathetic to realize. 

He tried to stand up, only his feet wouldn’t work. Should he… wait for Neptune to wake up? Leave? 

Waiting for Neptune to wake up would be intimate and awkward, especially since it would most certainly take ages. But leaving would be bloody embarrassing, he wouldn’t be able to approach Neptune for eons! It had been embarrassing the first time, but it would be even worse now since he now had to live with the knowledge of how stupidly panicked he had been, thinking Neptune was injured. No, he was just sleeping!  

“Bloody horrible luck,” Uranus muttered to himself, resisting the urge to start pacing around Neptune. How was he so stupid. “When hasn't my luck been shit?”

He took a step forward, his feet working again until he looked away from Neptune.

Uranus could… wake him up? That was rude, besides Uranus didn’t have anything important to say to him. There wasn’t any news, summons to a solar meeting, or anything. No, Uranus was just feeling a little… angry at Jupiter and Saturn. And ignored. Which wasn’t anything new or special and certainly didn’t make it alright to selfishly wake Neptune up.

He blinked a couple times, turning to look at a passing asteroid. Why was he staring at Neptune, that was somehow the worst option he could have chosen. It was typical, so bloody typical that he would think there were only two options, then find a new, worse third. 

Any time he tried to do anything, he had to screw it up. He’s a bloody useless failure of a planet, now Neptune would wake up, think he’s a creep, and finally realize that Uranus only caused problems. And not want to talk to him anymore.  

What a bloody joke. 

Uranus’ feet started working again as he began to pace in a circle, purposefully looking at anything but Neptune. A couple asteroids started to float towards him, which he angrily shoved away. 

All of Uranus’ problems—the other planets ignoring him, his stupid orbit leaving him awkwardly away from everyone, his horrible habit of either acting as a nervous wreck or running his mouth and saying things he regrets, his ugly name that left him a laughing stock—had one thing in common. Himself.  

Out of the corner of his eye, Uranus saw movement coming from Neptune’s direction. His core plummeting, he whipped his head around to see Neptune stirring slightly. Mouth opening, he froze, unable to move a kilometre. 

Rolling slightly, Neptune used his gravity to pull a couple of his moons, who had started drifting, back into place. He didn’t do anything else, but it so clearly looked like he was waking up that Uranus didn’t know what to do. 

Suddenly, Uranus felt his legs begin to work again and with a burst of speed he didn’t know he had, he rushed past Neptune. He was as useless as always, but what else could he do? He was nothing but a coward, a mistake! 

He’ll… just go back to sitting in his orbit. Maybe Jupiter and Saturn will finish talking and he’ll be able to catch one of them for a chat. 

Neptune will be awake the next time he wants to talk to him. 

Chapter Text

Neptune came back to consciousness to find something nudging him. His first, still mostly asleep, thought was to decide that it was some asteroid that got trapped in his gravity, about to fall into his atmosphere. Poor asteroid. Maybe he should hold a funeral. 

His second—or was it third?—slightly more coherent thought was to realize that whatever it was had gravity more comparable to his own than an asteroid, or even one of his moons. 

“Hnm?” Neptune said groggily, cracking an eye open as he hid a yawn behind his hand. The mystery gravitational pull moved slightly away from him, which was definitely not how asteroids worked. He hadn’t ever found one that could move on its own. 

As he rubbed his eyes, the mystery gravity shifted slightly, as if it wasn't sure where to float. It was very strong, so it was definitely somebody and not something… There was also something remarkably familiar about it… Wait…

Neptune snapped his head up as he sat up fully so he was somewhat lined up with the solar plane, mentally apologizing as he felt Naiad and Thalassa start to drift off their perches on his shoulders. 

“Uranus?” He blurted out in surprise, mostly sure he wasn’t hallucinating. Hallucinations don’t have gravity. 

The distinct light cyan form of the other planet shifted awkwardly at the sound of his name, looking remarkably unsure about how he should stand. 

“That’s me mate.” Uranus said, shooting him an awkward smile as he fidgeted with the hem of his sleeve. “Was that just a really long nap, or did you fall asleep again?”

Neptune blinked rapidly at him, half to clear his vision of sleep, half to parse out what Uranus said. Something, something mate, something about a nap. A question that ended with the word again? He just woke up, so was Uranus asking about how he slept? Or… if he napped again?  

“I fell asleep… again?” He said, tilting his head. Based on Uranus’ expression, either that wasn’t what was asked, or there was something more he wasn’t getting… Nothing that came to mind fit, did he forget something important again? 

Uranus froze, something—was that embarrassment?—flashing across his eyes, as he twisted a strand of his hair, face flushing. “No I meant—I—Ugh, I wanted to talk to you less than an orbit ago and you were asleep.” 

Neptune squinted at Uranus. For a brief moment, he had a vague memory of Uranus nearby him from… sometime, only for it to slide away. Hmm, he hadn’t been asleep that one time, when Uranus brought him a perturbed asteroid belt asteroid, which was… at least a million years ago. The seconds stretched on, and Uranus shuffled his feet awkwardly, before Neptune shoved away whatever wasn’t coming up with a laugh. “Ooo, sorry about that, I didn’t think you’d come by.” 

“It’s fine,” Uranus gave him a blank stare, and turned away with a sigh before whipping his head back. “—Hang on, was that a completely different nap?!”

Neptune blinked as Uranus looked at him intently, waiting for an answer. 

“Yep!” Neptune said, popping the p. Might be true, might not be. Didn’t matter that much. He lightly nudged Naiad and Thalassa back into place with his gravity, before sliding closer to Uranus, using his gravity to steady all of his moons, making sure they didn’t shift. “What was it that you wanted to talk about?” 

Triton, who had laid against Neptune’s leg, shifted in his sleep at the movement. After a brief check that his moon hadn’t started drifting, Neptune turned to Uranus with a smile, waiting for the other to continue.

“It’s…” Uranus started, turning back to Neptune. He could see him warring over something in his mind, before Uranus broke eye contact, looking inwards towards the Sun. “Nothing important.” 

Neptune nudged Uranus with his gravity, maybe a little harder than he intended if Uranus’ jolt of annoyance was any indication. Whatever it was had to be important, if Uranus had come all the way out to tell him. It had been ages since he’d seen him! 

As Neptune waited, Uranus started to subconsciously twist his fingers together. After a moment, he seemed to notice with a sigh, purposefully stopping his fingers from fidgeting. 

With a hint of hesitancy, he started to speak, growing more passionate with each word. “…Saturn and Jupiter don’t care about anyone other than each other. I was talking to Saturn when Jupiter passed by and Saturn just left! He didn’t even bother to be nice about it! Cut me off, then walked away to go talk to Jupiter!” 

With a small hum, Neptune nodded, motioning for Uranus to continue as he looked out to the distance where both Jupiter and Saturn probably were. Uranus seemed to be glaring intently at a particular area of space, but Neptune couldn’t see either of them, his orbit was too far out for that. Actually, when was the last time he had talked to either of them? It was before the last time he saw Uranus, which was… hmm… how long ago? 

Either way, it was quite rude for Saturn to leave mid conversation. Though in his vague memories of the other, that didn’t seem like something Saturn would do on purpose… he tried too hard to be nice to everyone for that.   

After a moment, Neptune tilted his head. “Weelll, did Saturn mean to leave without saying anything?” 

“How should I know? He always does things like that!” Uranus bemoaned, throwing his hands up in the air. The sudden movement caused a nearby asteroid to start to spiral, only for Neptune to hold it still with his gravity. 

“And every time I try to talk to him about anything serious, he just brushes me off,” Uranus continued, continuing to glare at empty space. “He obviously doesn’t even like me! Jupiter too, he could clearly see I was talking to Saturn, but still barged in and kicked me out of the conversation! None of them want to be around me! They both know I’m bloody useless…” 

“That’s not true,” Neptune quickly interjected. He wasn’t going to let Uranus say things like that about himself! Uranus didn’t appear to believe him, though he stayed silent. 

“Maybe…” Neptune continued, only for a yawn to cut off the rest of his words. Out of the corner of his eye Neptune saw Uranus' frown deepen and the other opened his mouth as if he was about to say something before closing it again. “…Saturn doesn’t get your view of the situation and thinks that he isn’t doing anything wrong, while Jupiter only did such by accident.” 

Uranus let out a humph and crossed his arms, his fingers digging into the fabric of his jacket. “It always happens. The moment that anyone better is there, nobody wants to talk to bloody useless stupid Uranus.”

“That’s not true silly, of course other planets like you!” Neptune said as he stood up to float in front of Uranus, floating so that he was slightly taller than him. He had to make his point stick somehow! “You’re Uranus! The artist who’s loyal, caring, and a super wonderful friend!”

The movement dislodged most of his moons from their sleeping spots, especially Triton, who had been leaning against his left leg, and Proteus, who had been resting on his right. They both looked to still be sleeping, so Neptune lightly used his gravity to keep them from drifting. 

“Besides, you’ve always got me!” Neptune continued, putting a hand on his chest as he emphasized the start of his next sentence. “I like talking to you!” 

“No offense mate,” Uranus slowly said, which wasn’t a good start. “But you’re not… that reliable Neptune. You keep vanishing for millions of years at a time. I always need to hunt you down.” 

“I’m not thaaat hard to find,” Neptune said, with a smile and wink, using his gravity to nudge Uranus playfully as he settled back level with him. “I’m either in my orbit or the Kuiper Belt!” 

Uranus shot Neptune another annoyed look, visibly starting to relax, causing Neptune’s smile to grow. Yes, his orbit was pretty far, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t always open to visitors! It was sort of strange that they were so rare, sure they had to stay in their orbits, but that was only most of the time. 

Another yawn creeped up, so Neptune covered his mouth with his hand again, blinking away the last few vestiges of sleep from his eyes. Ugh, he still half wanted to try to fall back asleep…

“Wow, you must have been really tired…” Uranus commented, a new mix of confused worry visible on his face. 

“I’m actually more tired now than when I fell asleep.” Neptune offhandedly admitted, looking up at the distant stars as he rubbed his eyes, before turning back to Uranus. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he thought saw Triton sit up, looking between the two ice giants. Neptune resisted the urge to check in on him, tilting his head curiously as Uranus turned to face him. In the edge of his vision, Triton laid back down, burying his face in his arms. 

“That’s not how sleep works…?” Uranus started hesitantly, sounding more than a little indecisive. 

“How can you be sure?” Neptune said, keeping his tone steady as he purposefully made eye contact with Uranus. Uranus gave him a blank stare back, which Neptune responded with a laugh. 

Giggling, he stretched, as much as he could without disturbing his still sleeping moons, spinning slightly. Uranus’ expression slowly morphed into an odd frown and he ran his fingers over the edge of his sleeve before appearing to decide something. 

“Really mate? Half of the times I talk to you, you’ve just woken up! That can’t be healthy…” Uranus said haltingly, trailing off at the end. Ohhhhh. It was obvious Uranus had been trying not to comment on Neptune’s sleeping habits the entire time. Something must have happened to make Uranus worried enough to say something. 

“Weelll, I do have a smaller radius than you. By around 740 kilometres.” Neptune said with a grin, drawing a circle in the void with his pointer finger. Normally, Uranus would have at least ignored the comment, but his expression only shifted to clear annoyance. 

Uranus squinted at Neptune before flatly saying, “That’s nothing. I’m barely bigger than you and haven’t needed to sleep in… in…” 

He trailed off, clearly searching for the memory. Neptune pulled himself into a seating position as he waited, nudging the moons who had started drifting into more comfortable positions. Most of them looked to be slowly waking up, stretching as they rubbed their eyes. Galatea had shoved Despina to the side, trying to take her sister’s sleeping spot. Nereid and Proteus were both trying to fall back asleep, while Triton was only pretending. 

With a small snort, Neptune looked back to Uranus, who with each passing second appeared to grow more and more awkward. 

“Eons!” Uranus finally settled on, waving one hand in the void as punctuation. “I’ve seen you sleeping more than I’ve seen every other planet sleep, combined!”

“That’s because I’ve been sleeping at the same time as some of my moons!” Neptune chirped, tilting his head as he offhandedly shoved away a few nearby asteroids that started to be drawn in. 

Uranus stared at him, his mouth opening and closing a couple of times before he pulled his face into a clear grimace. One of Uranus’ hands clenched around the fabric of his sleeve as some unknown realization flitted across his eyes. Neptune sat up straight, halting a lazy twirl of one free strand of his hair. 

“You have?!” Uranus said incredulously, before changing to a more serious tone as he visibly restrained himself from some unknown action. “That's not healthy at all. They’re orders of magnitude smaller than you!”

Neptune shrugged—was there something important he forgot? Uranus seemed oddly heated—starting to collect his loose hair in his hands. “It’s no big deal, it’s bonding time!” 

“Bonding time?” Uranus said, blinking in confusion. Neptune nodded with a hum as he delicately took the hair strands that Naiad and Thalassa were leaning on, his moons sleepily letting him move them. 

“Yep, it’s something that both my moons and I can do together,” Neptune responded, looking back at Uranus with a smile, vaguely motioning in the void as he pulled his hair up. “That isn’t much easier or much harder for me or for them!” 

Uranus gave him an open mouth stare, before turning away to put his head in one of his hands. Neptune tilted his head at him, starting to tie his hair into a bun with a ribbon. Suddenly, Uranus’ fingers clenched, pulling on his own hair. Neptune blinked as confusion and concern flooded over him in equal parts. 

Something was wrong, he didn’t get why Uranus would be so focused on how much he slept of all things. Really, it was completely inconsequential. There wasn’t that much of a difference between getting a nap every couple dozen orbits and a couple dozen naps every orbit. Well… when he phrased it like that, it did start to sound somewhat concerning. It wasn’t anything bad though! Had something else happened that Neptune completely missed? 

Neptune waffled for a moment, one hand still holding his mostly tied hair up. Eh, it probably wouldn’t stay up anyways. Neptune released his grasp on it—it mostly stayed up, but the bun would fall apart sooner rather than later—beginning to reach towards Uranus’ shoulder. 

“…Uranus?” He started, concern leaking into his voice. At the sound of his name, Uranus pulled himself up, his now free hand loosely forming a fist. 

“Mate, that’s—ugh,” Uranus started, eyes darting across Neptune’s face, visibly warring over what to say. “Neptune, you’re hurting yourself!” 

Neptune’s eyes widened. Oh. Uranus was worried for him. He supposed he had been sleeping a bit more than usual, but he had it completely under control! He didn’t sleep with his moons every time that they took naps, that would be irresponsible.  

“I’m being careful.” Neptune said in an attempt to be soothing, which based on Uranus’ reaction clearly didn’t work. 

Maybe he could find another bonding activity to do with his moons if this one made Uranus this concerned? …He couldn’t think of anything else where they could do the same thing. He could play gravitational slingshot with his moons more? Neptune did like just how much time the naps took up though. It wasn’t like he had much else to do. 

“See, this is what I mean, nobody cares about either of us!” Uranus interjected, cutting into Neptune’s thoughts. 

Huh?

“Uranus, what do you—” Neptune reflexively responded, blinking in confusion as he tried to catch up to whatever conclusion Uranus had drawn. Whatever it was didn’t sound good, so he should—

“No, you shut up,” Uranus said, harshly cutting Neptune off. Neptune froze, his mouth still open. “Mate, has anyone other than myself cared enough to talk to you recently?”

And Neptune felt a pit in his core that he had tried to ignore for ages open up again. For a moment he thought he knew what conclusion Uranus had drawn, but he pushed away the thought.

“Recently is rather relative—” Neptune started, in such an obvious attempt to lighten the mood that he had to hold back a wince. Uranus shot him a look, and Neptune quickly changed track. “My moons—”

“Other than them! They don’t count.” Uranus said, cutting him off again. Which was rude and completely unfair because his moons certainly were someone! Multiple someones in fact! 

But Uranus meant someone outside of his orbit, or someone who wasn’t gravitationally bound to him. Which was a far, far harder question, because the only visitor he could clearly remember was Uranus himself. And even then Neptune didn’t know when he last saw him.  

Neptune squinted blankly at some nearby spot, which based on the light blue colour, was probably the sleeve of Uranus’ coat. Recent was… hard to remember. He had been sleeping, woke up when Uranus arrived, but what had he been doing beforehand? He could vaguely remember finding a couple asteroids he hadn’t named yet before he fell asleep. But had it been even during the same orbital cycle, or was that millions of years prior? 

Hmmm… It was distant enough that Neptune didn’t know if it had been thousands, millions, or even billions of years ago, but he did remember Saturn coming to talk to him. Which probably didn’t count as recent but it was at least something! He couldn’t remember what they talked about, but Saturn had been genuine the whole time, telling Neptune he would do… something… before he left.

Upon second thought, Neptune had no clue if it was recent. It might have even been around the time he moved his orbit closer to the Kuiper Belt. He also had no idea if he’d seen Saturn since… But that didn’t mean that Saturn didn’t care about him!

Neptune bit down on one of his fingers as he thought harder, gaze turning away from what was definitely Uranus’ sleeve. There were a couple of asteroids nearby that weren’t there before, they must have been drawn in by their combined gravity…

Oh, oh! There was that time Jupiter visited, when the other planet accidentally disturbed the Kuiper Belt enough that Neptune had to put in substantial effort to keep it in check for some time afterwards. 

Huh, Jupiter had seemed sort of panicked, whenever that happened. Neptune couldn’t remember if the larger planet had said anything when he left, but it clearly bothered him enough that Neptune doubted Jupiter had come that close to the Kuiper Belt since… Actually he couldn’t clearly remember any other time he had seen Jupiter… which… definitely happened at least a few dozen orbits prior based on the amount of disjointed memories he had of shoving the Kuiper Belt into place.  

Neptune opened his mouth, only to shut it again. He… didn’t have an answer for Uranus. He couldn’t actually remember a time when—Wait, wait… 

“Do Pluto and Charon count?” Neptune slowly started, looking back at Uranus. He couldn’t remember the last time he had talked to either, but they were close enough that every once in a while he waved a hello to them. “I mean, our orbits do cross so…?” 

With a badly repressed sound, Uranus threw his hands into the air. Well then, if he wasn’t counting them, Uranus could at least be nice about it. Pluto was as much of a planet as either of them. 

Though maybe it was because Pluto was smaller than Triton? If so, that was extra rude and Uranus should have clarified if he meant anyone of similar size rather than anyone in general. 

“Neptune, I don’t know why you’re not bloody pissed at everyone. I can at least lurk behind Jupiter and Saturn.” Uranus began as Neptune knocked aside the few nearby asteroids that Uranus’ movement perturbed. Uranus didn’t appear to notice as he continued to speak, emphasizing his next sentence. “When was the last time you’ve even seen Jupiter?”

Neptune bit the inside of his cheek as he shifted in his seat, his core sinking. Jupiter and Saturn had their own lives! Sure, he couldn't exactly drop a pin on when the last time he saw either of them was, but there was no reason to expect them to just drop… whatever they did… to visit. 

It had been a long time though… It was rare for him to see, well, anyone other than his moons. 

“There’s no reason for me to be angry, it’s my orbit. I choose it! I like it here.” Neptune responded, a little more upbeat than he felt. He couldn’t exactly not think about what he had been trying not to think about when Uranus kept asking him questions! 

And either way, he was telling the truth! Sure it was far out, he barely saw any other planets, and it was rather cold. But, he chose it! He liked the Kuiper Belt, asteroids are cool, they’ve always been cool! He could do pretty much anything with enough asteroids. There was an entire belt worth of them right next door! His orbit was so cool, in more ways than one! 

“Well, it’s a horrible orbit,” Uranus said bluntly, gesturing at the space around them. “It’s ages from everyone else and the Kuiper Belt is right there. I don’t know how you can even move without throwing asteroids everywhere.” 

Which Neptune thought was sort of dismissive, being near the Kuiper Belt was the whole reason he chose his orbit in the first place! Uranus knew that. 

“Practice!” Neptune said, letting his smile wipe away the creeping thoughts as he playfully poked Uranus again. His orbit was great, it had never been the problem. 

Neptune could feel it deep within his core, as long as he ignored his purposefully distant, real, problems, he’d be fine! None of it was his fault and he couldn’t exactly fix them, so… 

Uranus ignored his interjection and continued to speak, what was clearly identifiable as anger leaking into his voice.

“I’m much closer to the gas giants and they never bloody talk to me!” Uranus gestured between them as he spoke. “You should be pissed!” 

“Why should I be when—” Neptune butted in, in a feeble attempt to wrangle the conversation back.  He knew Uranus didn’t mean to cause it, but he could feel the reminders creeping in. Reminders of the familiar feeling of loneliness, the feeling that he had somehow been cursed for millions upon millions of years to bleed together with their similarity.

“You’re just sleeping your life away because nobody bothers to check if you’re alright!” Uranus ranted, waving one hand in the void at the small nook Neptune had carved out. Somewhat distantly, Neptune could feel an asteroid or two, dislodged by Uranus’ motion, narrowly avoid one of his moons and fall into his atmosphere. Ha. He really should hold an asteroid funeral now. 

“That’s not what I’m doing,” Neptune said and he could feel the desperation leaking into his voice. He didn’t think he was lying, but the familiar feeling of his words sticking together and not coming out right arrived all the same. “It’s obviously bonding time with my moons—” 

And Uranus cut him off again—he wasn’t even trying to hear him out!—looking at him with eyes filled with anger and for some reason a hint of pity? Neptune froze at that, the words in his mouth crumbling apart. He didn’t even know what he had been trying to say.

Distantly, Neptune thought he saw movement on his left, but Uranus pulled his attention back before he could check. 

“Bonding time isn’t meant to be something harmful!” Uranus said, his voice rising to a shout. “See, this is what I’m always saying, nobody cares about either of us! I’m left with everyone I talk to conveniently finding reasons to leave, while Neptune, you’re so bloody forgotten that nobody even tries to connect with you!” 

Neptune could feel his core crumble and break as he stared at Uranus, eyes wide. 

“Uranus, I’m fine with it!” Neptune responded, frantically trying to shove down whatever painful emotions were bubbling back up—and failing because he could feel the crushing realization that he would be forever out of place and tomorrow was the same as yesterday which would be the same as billions of years from now—he could feel his volume raising too, but he didn’t know any other way to keep Uranus from interrupting him. “You and my moons are all I need.”

And really, it wasn’t just that they were, it was that they had to be. Because if they weren’t, then what else did Neptune have to fill the gap? Who else was there, dependable enough that he wouldn’t be left in the dimly lit darkness for the eons and eons of eternity? Asteroids weren’t people, could never be, no matter how much he talked to them and hoped they would respond back. 

“I don’t know why you are!” Uranus snarled, breathing heavily. A desperate kind of anger clouded his features, dislodged asteroids flying as Uranus violently shook his hands. “Does any of this look fine to you? Everyone hates me and nobody cares about you! That doesn’t look fine to me!”

“I’m fine with it!” Neptune shouted, feeling almost hysterical, he couldn’t tell if he was trying to convince himself or Uranus. He was fine! It was better for him and everyone else if he was! “It’s fine! Everything’s fine!” 

“That’s the least truthful thing you’ve said this entire time!” Uranus said, aghast. Neptune reared back, one hand on his chest as he felt the last remaining shreds of something crumble into billions and trillions of pieces, one for each year he would be alone. 

He opened his mouth to retort something back, to tell Uranus that he wasn’t lying, that he really was fine, but the words didn’t form. Only the start of a dry sob that Neptune bit back before he could make a sound. 

The brief moment of silence was broken by his own involuntary inhale, as something shiny started to flow down Uranus’ face. 

Uranus blinked, slowly reaching a hand up, freezing as it brushed against his cheek. 

“Wha…” Uranus said in a half whisper, surprise flickering across his face, clearly not something that Neptune was meant to hear. For a moment, Uranus looked truly lost, and Neptune scrambled to put the pieces back together to say something to help him.

Only for Uranus’ expression to harden, angrily wiping the tears off of his face.  

“Fine!” Uranus said, voice cracking as he snarled at Neptune, a whirlwind of anger, surprise, and hurt flashing across his face. “If you can’t get anything through your thick atmosphere, I’ll just leave! I know enough to tell when I’m not wanted mate! Just stay in your bloody horrible orbit if you like it so much, I don’t think anyone would care!” 

“Uranus—I—” Neptune choked out, feeling the few shards he managed to collect crumbling in his grasp as Uranus turned away. 

With not a single glance behind him, Uranus stormed off, one fist still clenched as he angrily scrubbed his face. 

“Uranus!” Neptune shouted, his own voice breaking, pinned in place by invisible shackles. 

The void settled into a shocked silence. Neptune simply sat there—staring motionless at where Uranus had left, Uranus was still visible, far in the distance, why wasn’t he moving, how wasn’t he chasing after him?—grasping for something, anything, gripping the hand on his chest with enough force to shatter. 

He—Uranus was wanted, he wanted Uranus, wanted Uranus to come back so they could talk, talk it out—couldn’t move, didn’t know why. And—other planets would care if he never left his orbit, or maybe the few inhabitants of the Kuiper Belt would be happy that he would never again accidentally sweep them up because he could barely see them which was completely his fault—he hoped, needed the other planets to care because he didn’t think he would be able to continue without that slim, slim hope. Really, Uranus was all he had left of that hope, which had been dying for millions of years. He had been pretending it still lived for longer than it ever was alive. Which was far too little time for the untold trillions left he had to keep it together.

And after a painful, painful stretch of far less than eternity, Neptune felt the horrifying realization that it truly was silent wash over him. 

“…M—moons?” He whispered, still feeling half hysteric. Neptune slowly swept his head from side to side, searching for anyone, anything. Any familiar hint of grey brown, any small blue scarfs, or maybe just the edge of Triton’s coat. “…W—where…?”

For a brief, horrible moment, Neptune thought that he or Uranus had accidentally killed them all, crushed them into millions, billions, trillions of pieces by mere mistake. Voice catching in his throat, Neptune frantically spun, feeling his core plummet with every new asteroid he spotted. 

The final, only, hint of relief came when he realized that there wasn’t any debris floating around him, no broken shattered bodies that would have stuck around for far longer than he could deal with. They were… alive. Safe. 

Distantly, Neptune could remember seeing a flash of movement that he hadn’t checked the source of, they must have left when his argument with Uranus got heated. But they hadn’t come back. They were gone. He was truly, completely alone now.

Something dripped down his cheek as an odd feeling of numbness—or was it the calm before the storm?—settled upon him. Haltingly, Neptune bought up a hand, going through the motions more than anything, brushing it against the wetness. 

Neptune stared at his hand, feeling a whirlwind of his own brewing in the back of his mind. He would have tried to do something, anything, to stop it, but he was far too tired now. And he was alone. Utterly, completely alone in a void where nobody would be able to hear him scream. 

He felt an odd pressure build up behind his eyes and suddenly Neptune found himself bawling, because really, nothing was fine! He never saw anyone, Jupiter and Saturn made empty promises that they never kept, while likely not knowing that anything was wrong. Uranus only saw him when he wanted to complain about the other planets to someone and Neptune was always so starved—for anyone that he couldn’t accidentally kill by tapping them too hard—that he let him! 

Neptune tried to wipe his face, but the tears bubbled past his hands, and really it didn’t matter because he could feel there was nothing, nobody around. And just this one time, he could be true, truthful to himself, because Uranus had torn away all of the lies that he tried to wrap himself in. 

Lies that didn’t matter because at the end of the day everything was the same identical void forever, working at timescales even he couldn’t process, whether he was trying to convince himself that everything was fine or screaming his core out into the void. 

“W-what else can I do…?” Neptune stuttered out, his shoulders shaking, a dark laugh curling up in his throat as he folded inwards, onto himself. Forget? Try to act like he was perfectly happy, perfectly unbothered until he forgot what the ugly truth was? He could certainly try! He had tried! And he would continue to try! 

But it wasn’t enough, it would never be enough. Because no matter how much he tried, the millions and billions and trillions of years he would need to last left nothing untouched. Left nothing the same. 

Neptune roughly tried to rub the tears away, only for them to overflow. It didn’t matter, even as much as he felt the daggers dig into and tear him apart. What was one day, in the face of an eternity?