Chapter Text
This is the third night in a row that I've woken up on the floor. It has been stormy for days and any crack of thunder that happens too close startles me into hurdling myself off of the bed – intent on getting away from my room – before I realize that it's only mother nature giving me an early wake-up call. A resonating thud from the other side of my wall tells me that our neighbor had the same problem, and I can hear the older lady across the hall grumbling, likely having just recovered from a similar experience. It's nights like these when everyone wakes up, because our ears have been trained for self defense. If the Commission decided that someone had done anything as an act against the Whole, we were to be punished. They would come when you least expected it, and invite themselves in with a swift kick through your front door – which is why thunder frequently woke everyone in the city. All sounds anywhere near the tenor of wood collapsing would wake the entire complex, and subject all of its residents into a fight or flight state. If the Commission took you, you were not coming back. The possibility was a constant fear.
Needless to say, no one has had much sleep the last few days.
Somewhere down in me, and I'm not sure when, I had started to think that maybe this was not how things were suppose to be. That we were meant to have more freedom than this, and not fear the sounds in the night. My comrades always assure me otherwise, that it's all for our own good, but I'm starting to think that they only say that because, like myself, they're all scared. They've lived their entire lives as part of the Whole, under direct command, and wouldn't know how to handle free will if they even had it. Either that, or they're just scared shitless that the Commission will find them if they say anything other than praise for the Whole and the Commission and of comrades and all that.
I walk to my window to look out once more, like I had been doing each night since the storm started. The full storm had yet to creep into our valley, so it's not raining, but the Commission said it would come.
Weather was usually something the Commission was never wrong about, but all that there is to see at the moment is a plastering of ugly, green tinted clouds hovering above, with the occasional crack of lightning darting out and abusing whatever it pleases. Including our mental states. All that there is to see until the rain comes are these clouds. And lightning. And trees.
Lots, and lots of trees.
The Commission had always told us that there was nothing beyond this city; that we were alone because lesser minds had started a war for some 'greedy independence' thing long ago, and only those dedicated to the Whole had survived. To me, that's always been hard to believe. The world is supposedly massive, but we're the only ones left, our small city? Bullshit. I have hit the point of disillusionment, I am done believing in the Commission, and I have started to wonder more and more about what could be beyond those trees.
Surely there couldn't be just more trees, could there? An endless void of green that would render no suitable condition to live in? This place can't be my only option. I am sick of the fear, sick of the worry, sick of the anxiety and sick of the Whole, although the thought of telling anyone here that makes me feel nauseous.
Tonight, my frayed nerves have finally snapped. I want out, and I want out bad. The only thing that's stopping me from running out right now into the dark abyss are the security cameras, the storm, and the fear that perhaps there isn't anything beyond those trees. Not only would the Commission likely find me, but what would I be risking my life for? Trees?
Another dash of thunder rumbles through the building, and I hear a creak as my sister Rose jolts out of her sleep, tumbling off the bed across from mine. Her eyes are lit up in anxiety when she sees my silhouette in the window, but she visibly relaxes as her eyes adjust to the darkness and she realizes it's me.
That was another reason I didn't want to leave; I couldn't leave my brother and sisters, and I wasn't quite sure of their opinion of the Whole. If I had asked them to come with me -– to risk their lives –- they may be willing, but if they weren't they would likely report me. Many people had reported their family. Many were sickeningly loyal to the force they feared the most. I could never turn any of my family into the Commission in cold blood like that, and I would like to believe that they felt the same toward me, but there is no way to really know without putting my life on the line and telling them what I really feel about our 'grand old Whole.'
Rose stands from where she had been laying on the floor, walking over to me and placing a hand on my shoulder for comfort. She has always been calm when it came to the Commission, almost like she wasn't afraid of them. I really envy her. We can't even say our own names in public, in fear that the Commission would take it as some act against the Whole – we aren't even supposed to have names, although some people did. Only last names are allowed so that people could tell who's related.
Using a first name here is akin to blasphemy here. A first name means that you believe that we are not one, and that you think that you needed some unique identifier to show it.
We were probably given names because our parents had a hard time addressing four kids by “hey, you there” all the time. They called us our names in the house infrequently, but only in the house, and there was a silent agreement to never use them ourselves. Likely because of all the stuff they drill into our heads here about needing to be “one with the Whole.” Slipping up and using a name would draw suspicion.
I use my family's names in my head, and when we're alone together. I'm not “one” with any shithead around here. I can't stand the idea of protecting a group that makes you shake in terror every moment of your life. It's so wrong in so many ways.
But, as of right now, that's my life. A wrong existence of perpetual fear that won't even leave me as I reflect on myself in peace in my own home.
I stand there a long time, just staring out the window and thinking to myself. I momentarily forget that I'm not alone.
I should have known better than to think that Rose wouldn't start prodding me about what was bothering me, and from her sideways stare I could tell that she was silently asking. She could always tell. I left her without a response, until she finally broke the silence.
“Do either of us need to point out the obvious tension here before we can discuss it?”
“Yup.”
“Stubborn,” she sighs, finally dropping her hand from my shoulder, “alright, then. There's obvious tension. Discuss.”
I paused for a moment, the idea of running through those trees and never coming back appealing to me, but slowly dying in my heart as I lose confidence. No. A Strider is always confident, Dirk made sure I knew that while growing up. Maybe it wasn't really a loss of a feeling, but more of a gaining of dread, apprehension at the possibility of punishment.
Rose snaps her fingers in front of my face. “Earth to Strider, have you spaced out before the conversation has even started?”
Still hesitant, I force myself into saying what is on my mind before I can chicken out again. “Did you know that there's some old guy that goes to feed the robins at that bench down there every day at the same time?”
Well, that wasn't exactly what I had wanted to say.
Alright, scratch that. That was totally not what I had wanted to say.
Maybe she won't notice.
“..I would take a moment to analyze exactly why you thought that was a relevant thing to note, but I'm already sure that both of us know that wasn't what you had intended to get off your mind.”
Dammit.
“Fuck, Rose, why the hell do you have to be so perceptive all the time?” I flinch as her name leaves my mouth. Even when it's just us, I have only ever slipped with names every so often. Since we were born, I had never heard any of my siblings use our names. I'm the only screwed up child.
She seemed to visibly tense as I flinch, and she turns to face me more directly. The blood starts to drain from my face; deep down I feel like she feels the same way as I do about this whole city. I've made every note in favor of the option for months as I've tried to figure out what she's thinking. She's smart, she has to want out of this, doesn't she? Or maybe my way of thinking is just stupid. Maybe I'm just some greedy bastard who wants to choose what the hell I do and not be afraid of doing it all I damn well please.
“..You're not happy here, are you, Dave?” she states with a sadness in her tone. As I go to reply, I realize that she used my name, too. It's been years since I'd heard it spoken, and it feels foreign.
After a minute of me just standing there in mild shock over her break of cultural tact, she speaks again. “You know you can't hide anything from me, I can see right through you. Even with your glasses on.” I feel my mouth turn downward in a small frown. Our whole family was born with some sort of weird eye color -– Dirk and I with warm orange and vivid crimson, and Roxy and Rose with striking pink and a gentle violet. Our parents had made us all wear sunglasses, and usually even in the house. If we were seen as strange, different people from the Whole, who knows what the Commission would do. Let alone the frightened people of the city; we already learned the hard way what they would do.
“Dave,” she asserts a little louder, a little firmer. The second time she had used my name in my life. Was she even sure that was actually my name? Her face is tight, frustrated, but also pressing, as if she is oddly eager for her answer. It scares me, and suddenly I feel targeted as she watches me like a hawk. This is it. “I've watched you, and I know you're not happy here. I don't even know why I bothered asking, I know you. And I've seen the way you stare out the window, and shrink away from people when they talk of the Whole.”
My skin is prickling all over, awareness of my demise shooting through my veins. She is going to turn me into the Commission. I was wrong.
While in my reverie, Rose swallows hard, enough so that I could see her throat clench out of the corner of my eye, even in the dark. She continues looking at me, and I finally break away from facing the window to fully look at her. I expect eyes filled with anger, but instead see nervousness. “..You feel it too, don't you?” she offers quietly, “this isn't.. It wasn't always like this. Someone is lying.”
It takes me a long moment to process her hesitant questioning. Did she stare out the window with the same longing as me, when I hadn't noticed? Did she also wonder what it would be like to be away from here, and feel the fear pulse through her heart whenever a member of the Commission tried to talk to her? It slowly starts to dawn on me that she is growing more tense under my stare without a response, and I realize that she had probably felt as scared to bring this point up as I had. Just as she opens her mouth, probably to quickly deflect what she had said, I open mine. “I couldn't agree with you more.”
Her body slackens, no longer tense, and she steps forward to give me a tight hug. My arms slowly reciprocate. We hadn't hugged like this in a long time, and it felt nice to be so close to someone. It felt like we had both just admitted the biggest thing in our lives, which we probably had, and relief flows from my body at having found out that I'm not alone. We could trust each other.
Lightning shoots past our window with a simultaneous crack of thunder, and we both jump back, landing on our asses. My heart is pounding; my first thought was that someone must have heard us and the door was kicked in –- even though it doesn't seem like it now, since there's no yelling -– and from the look on Rose's face, she had thought the same. I smile slowly at how stupidly that moment had been broken, and she gives a soft laugh in return. No one had been around, and now we have each other to lean on. That's more freedom than either of us have ever had, and I'm going to fucking take it.
Lifting myself off the floor, I lean over to offer Rose a hand –- which she takes -– and help her up. “So, now that we've both gotten this out of our system.. what now?”
“I'm not sure.” She admits, looking exasperated, “It's not like we could just shoot out of the city in a wild rampage and hope for the best.”
“Well, why the fuck not?” The words ring in my ears before I know that I'm saying them, but the more I think about it, the more I agree. Why the fuck can't we? Anything has to be better than this place. Something nags at me in the back of my head though, and it takes me a moment to put a finger on what it is. When I place it, my face sinks and I feel guilty for ever having possibly forgotten them for even a moment. “..What about Roxy and Dirk?”
Rose looks conflicted, and I can tell that she had the same thought. There's no way in hell I could selfishly bolt out of here and never think of them again, and I'm guessing she feels the same.
“I am almost certain that Roxy wants to get out of here as well... at least, if I have been reading her various 'hints' correctly over the past few years.” I balk, nodding in realization with a feeling of stupidity. Of course, Roxy has always been a rebel. Had I been completely oblivious? “She can see more than I can sometimes. I think she knows the Commission is playing us. As for Dirk.. I am not sure.”
“What do you mean? Bro is nearly as much of a rebel as Roxy is. If she's all for the idea, wouldn't he be too?”
Rose lets out a sigh that sounds more like a pondering hum. “I'm not sure. Sometimes I just generally cannot tell what he believes anymore. I'm not sure if even he knows what he feels anymore.”
“He has a tendency to avoid conflict these days."
Rose nods, but even as the words leave my mouth, something feels incomplete about that statement. She adds to it, and I can't help but agree. "I always pinned it to calming down from his teenage years, but it's been a drastic change.”
“Maybe he has the same fear we do, and he's avoiding standing out. It's only reasonable..."
"Or maybe it's because he had some sort of close-call with the Commission?”
There wasn't anything that I could remember about Dirk having skirted around with the Commission. The Commission had always gotten what they wanted, and who they wanted. He wouldn't have been able to escape if they were after him. “..So what's the point of even bringing all this up? You want some sort of escape attempt?”
“If at all possible, yes please.”
My lips strain at the wide grin that crosses my face. “Then it's gonna happen. We just need to find a way to figure out if Roxy and Bro are on board.”
“And what if they aren't? What are we going to do then?”
The grin fades, replaced with a flat line. “..we'll just need to find out somehow.”