Work Text:
TV World was covered in endless night—the sky was always so dark, so starless. Some said that if you gazed up into it long enough, you'd start seeing things.
Alone, on one of the studio's highest balconies, a green Pippins stood, looking over the horizon. The streets of TV World barely stood out in the blinding white expanse of snow.
From afar, it was all so small.
The door opened quietly behind him. “You's comin' in soon, Boss? We's gettin' ready to go."
His fingers drummed against the railing, the metal cold even through his gloves. He sighed, before turning to face the Zapper.
"... Yeah, I'm just thinkin'. Just, uh, gimme a couple minutes."
"All right."
He looked away again, but the Zapper didn't move, standing still in the doorway. He let a few seconds pass, waiting to hear the door close. He spoke up again when it didn't.
"You can, uh, go. You know."
"Yeahs."
Still, they didn't move. Neither of them did. The Pippins cleared his throat.
"... So."
"Just gonna waits for ya. Right here."
"... Okay."
A few more beats passed awkwardly, before he turned again, tapping the metal beside him.
"I-If you're not going back in, at least don't... don't stand in the doorway. C'mere."
They nodded and went to join him by the railing, standing there awkwardly while the Pippins leaned forward, sighing as his head hung.
It was quiet. Even in Tenna's bustling Dark World, everything was so far away: all the people, all the sounds. Everything that he was told mattered.
He broke the silence.
"I... you know, I'm not sure if... I'm not sure how real I am."
It was a terrible conversation starter. He regretted saying it immediately.
They looked confused, but tried to respond earnestly.
"Uh. You knows what dat Des-carts guy said once? Uhh... 'I think, so...'"
"'I think, therefore I am'. Yeah, I'm familiar."
Basic philosophy shit. He'd looked at it before.
"Yea. You's gotta lotta thoughts, don't youse? So logically..."
He covered his face in his hands, groaning quietly, before setting them back down on the railing.
"Logically? Yeah. It... it makes sense, but it just. It doesn't feel that way."
They went silent for a moment, before breathing out a quiet "Ah".
"... It sucks," he started, the words slipping out with no resistance. "Kind of bad." His voice was soft. "We're Darkners, right? We're just... things, in the Light World. I know we're not supposed to think about it too hard, but we're not... we're not people, are we?"
"I guess you can think abouts it like dat. We... we's not real, technically. But if we's thinkin' and feelin'... aren't we basically...?"
"I."
He looked down at his hands, blinking hard like it'd make the feeling go away.
"I don't know. It makes sense. I know it's supposed to make sense, but I still feel... I don't know."
"You don't gotta know. Here, can I take your...?"
"My?"
They offered their hand, palm facing up.
He looked down, confused, before glancing back at his own hand.
"O-Oh. Sure."
He placed his hand in theirs tentatively. They held it gently in their grasp. He swallowed hard.
"It's, fuckin' stupid. But. Sometimes, I don't know if you're... I—" He stammered briefly, before giving up. "Never mind."
The Zapper pulled their friend in closer, hand giving his a comforting squeeze. The Pippins took a few shuddering breaths, before suddenly burying his face into their chest, heaving out a few quiet sobs.
"Boss? ... B-Buddy? You's..."
Their hands, unsure, went to rest on the Pippins' back in an awkward hug. He hugged them back, arms wrapping tightly around their torso. They adjusted their arms around him, rubbing up and down with one hand comfortingly.
He kept crying into them, trying to ignore the creeping shame. They were here. They were here. Their arms were around him. They were touching him, and their touch was solid and real. They were right here, and they weren't going anywhere.
Still, he held them like he worried that last part wouldn't be true.
When he looked back up, there were tears in his eyes. His grip tightened to rumple the fabric of their uniform, but they didn't seem to care, looking down at him with what he could register as a sympathetic expression.
"Are you's okay, lately?" Their voice was soft, kind.
He waited too long before simply shrugging. Their expression turned more somber.
"I don't know what to do, guy."
"You's gonna be okay."
He shook his head, then repeated, "I don't know what to do."
"You's got me. You's got us."
"I don't know." The broken record started again. "God, I don't know."
They hugged him again, tight. He mumbled into their clothing—he knew they couldn't hear, his words so quiet and muffled by the fabric, but he said it anyway: I'm so scared that I'm all alone here. I'm so scared. I don't know what I would do if it was true. I don't know. He squeezed them as forcefully as he could manage, like if he got close enough, he'd melt into them, and all his problems would melt away.
It didn't work, of course. But he could pretend. He tried so hard to pretend.
"I'm sorry." He pulled back, feeling so, so cold. "This is embarrassing."
"I want to be here anyway."
He felt tears pricking at his eyes again. "I'm sorry," he repeated, not even quite sure what for.
"Please." They rested their hands on his shoulders. His breathing was still shaky.
"You's gonna be okay," they said again, trying so hard for any semblance of reassurance. Still, he shook his head, gently. Their grip tightened.
"Can I help? I wanna help."
"Thank you for trying."
"I wanna help you, please."
He sighed. "You're helping, already. I'm sorry it doesn't seem that way."
"Don't apologize."
He had to bite his tongue to stop himself from doing so again.
"I'm... happy," he tried instead, the words feeling foreign in his mouth. "I'm happy that I know you this way."
He forced a smile. Their expression didn't change. He couldn't keep the smile on for more than a few seconds.
The words sounded somber when he tried again. "I'm happy you're in my life. I think... that... I'm lucky. I can't find the words."
I love you, his brain suggested. He didn't let those words spill out, no matter how many times they ran through his mind. For being here. For dealing with me. For sticking by me. I love you. I don't know what I'll do without you.
"I'm happy too," they returned the sentiment. He tried his best to smile again. They smiled back, the expression bittersweet. Not quite the darling smile he usually saw on them—he realized again, in that instant, just how lucky he was.
Even if I can't have you forever, I hope I don't forget how lucky I am again.
They pulled away, though one hand still held his, an assurance of security. They gestured toward the door. "It's real late, Boss. Let's go. We can talk more... in the morning. I think sleeping will make you feel better."
"Okay."
They walked alongside him, guiding his unsure steps.
"You matter a lot," he let slip as he walked. I don't know how I could ever compare.
They squeezed his hand. "You matters to me too, Boss. To us."
He tried his best to believe it.