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“My turn!”
Earth purposefully held off for a second as he juggled the asteroid in his hands, throwing it between both as Mars watched, eyes following the rock. “Think you can dodge— this?!” With the final word he stiffened up and drew his arm back before lobbing it straight at Mars, mindful to keep his own gravity reigned in so it wouldn’t ruin the path it flew. (They’d already dealt with that enough times to be annoyed and wary about it with every throw.) Mars straightened and reached out, catching the asteroid against his chest with a strained oof while Earth pouted.
“Sorry, dude,” he said, transferring it to one hand. “I guess I can.”
“Damn,” Earth muttered, sighing purposefully loudly. “I thought that’d get you.” He turned and nodded towards the others where they waited on the edge of their… court, of sorts? They were still within his orbit, since it was really the biggest restriction they had, but none of the other rockies were… and luckily the Sun hadn’t said anything to keep them from playing, even if he’d been a little creepy just watching. “I’m out,” he admitted, “Mars won!”
Both of Mars’s moons exploded into cheers.
“Woo! Go Mars!”
Earth just tuned them out as much as he could. “Luna!” His moon sat on the edge of the court with Mercury—both of them a noticeable distance from Venus—but looked up the moment he called his name, heading for him when he gestured.
“Yeah, Earth?” he asked, clearly curious. “What is it?”
“You’re on my team this time!”
Luna’s eyes widened, silver sparkling. “You’re letting me join?” he asked, straightening up and freeing both hands from his hoodie. “Really?” Frankly, how excited he looked at the prospect reminded Earth just how much he really needed to remember to include Luna in on more these days, but…
Well, he could always think about that later.
They had team-based asteroid dodgeball to play!
“Uh, yeah,” Earth said, waving one hand. “Plus, I wanna do a special round. You and me against the other rockies! We can prove we’re the best and awesomest.” He paused, mouth closing before he added, “In a non-judgemental way.”
Luna gave an awkward-sounding laugh. “Uh-huh.”
But before Earth could say anything else, his grimace turned into a slight frown, brows knitting. “Are you sure about that, Earth? I mean… I’m not really planet-sized. And you’re good, but are you really dodge against three planets good?”
“Wow,” he said, stretching the word. “Have faith in me, Luna, dang.”
Of course he was dodge-against-three-planets good.
Earth had—uh, well, he’d personally determined that he wasn’t going to be hit by any asteroids any time soon. “We’re not throwing them with that much speed, and we can use our gravity if we need to. It’ll be fine, Luna, stop worrying so much. And get your game-face on!” He reached out and pinched Luna’s cheeks into a smile even as he protested and tried to slap his hands away. “Ready?”
“Fine!” he cried, shoving his hands away. “Yes, Earth, I’m ready. Stars.”
He just grinned and whistled a short tune before turning around. “Special round!” Venus, Mercury, and Mars all three looked at him. “Luna and I are one team, and you three are the opposite team!”
“What about us?”
“Yeah! Stop forgetting about us, Earth!”
Earth looked around for a second before spotting Phobos and Deimos, and then he fought the urge to sigh. “Uh. You two can be on Luna and I’s team.” At least then he wouldn’t have to worry about somehow hurting them.
Maybe.
Mars’s moons had a really good ability of being in the way when they didn’t need to be, and out of the way when they needed to be in it. He was honestly a little bit amazed at it.
But anyway—
Asteroid Dodgeball!
He tuned out their excited screams and instead focused on the other three standing on the other side of the makeshift court, the line of asteroids in the middle already setup. Mars had probably done that while he’d been talking to Luna, which was great, because he was ready to go, and the idea of waiting another moment drew him crazy. “Earth?” he called out, voice a little distant. “Are you sure about—”
“Game start!” he shouted, interrupting what was probably about to be another un-needed statement of worry. Stars, you’d think he was some newborn planet. I mean, sure, he’d had some—plenty of close calls, but he could take care of himself! And even if he couldn’t, he had Luna, didn’t he? Luna and the other rocky planets, and the giants, and the Sun—
Okay, no use naming them all.
Earth swept up an asteroid in one hand and immediately pelted it at Mercury, who’s eyes widened as he yelped and jumping out of the way, nearly bowling Venus over before he stepped backwards and watched him fly by with an amused snicker. “Eyes on yourself, Venus!” he shouted, lobbing another one at him. Venus barely stepped out of the way, shooting him an annoyed glare that definitely promised retaliation. “What?” Earth grinned widely. “You gotta pay attention, man!”
A hard yank on the back of his hoodie had him stumbling back just in time to miss one asteroid sailing past him.
“Whoa!”
A glance behind revealed Luna—obviously, who else would it be? Phobos and Deimos? Ha!—behind him with an annoyed look. “I think you need to pay attention too, Earth,” he said, immediately throwing the asteroid he had in hand. Earth watched it sail to the other side of the court and right past Mercury’s arm as he cringed away. “Now are you going to throw an asteroid?”
“What?” he protested, snatching one nearer with his gravity. “I threw the first one! Mercury jumped out of the way like his ass was on fire, you didn’t see that? Come on!” He groaned with the final word and launched his asteroid straight towards Venus, and after that he let himself fall into the back-and-forth of ducking out of the way, or turning to the side to let an asteroid sail by him, or launching his own and groaning in disappointment when it didn’t hit or they narrowly jumped out of the way.
“If only we had like, twenty of us,” he said, stumbling in next to Luna. “It’d be so much more fun.”
Luna paused mid-throw, and they both watched his asteroid harmlessly tumble to the other side of the court. “I didn’t mean to do that,” he said, face turning red. Earth just snickered. “I just— You could always ask the Moon Club?” And then he immediately grimaced at himself, face pinching. “Nevermind. Asking them to join the asteroid-throwing game probably isn’t the best idea.”
“Even besides that,” Earth said, casually lobbing one asteroid in Mercury’s direction, “aren’t most of them like… tiny?” He squeezed his fingers together to demonstrate as Luna rolled his eyes. “Like Phobos and—hey, where are those two? Mars’ll kill me if they get hurt.” He did a half-turn and scanned the area behind them until he spotted Phobos and Deimos determinedly lugging an asteroid behind them, which… they’d never manage to throw it.
And even if they did, how fast did they think they could throw it?
And how long had they been doing that?
And—
“Earth!”
The honest panic in Luna’s voice was the first hint that something was actually wrong… and the second was when he turned around and spotted an asteroid flying towards him right about eye-level, and rather than catch it like he should have, Earth froze. His entire body felt as stiff and unmoving as when he’d been stuck in the Kuiper Belt, like layers of ice had grown on him in a fraction of a second. Asteroid, he told himself, it’s just an asteroid, an asteroid that’s going to—
And suddenly he wasn’t there, and he was there, and his entire body wasn’t his, and it was.
“Earth! Earth!”
I’m fine, he tried to say, to play off the reaction still stuck in the midst of it; but when his mouth opened all that escaped was a half-stuck noise, a strangled inhale that rose and rose, and now it was closer, and closer, and closer, and he could see the smooth edges of it where it’d probably been part of their games for years and years, but—
But he couldn’t move, and the edges of his vision were creeping in on him.
But his limbs weren’t responding, his body frozen as his thoughts.
But Earth was going to lose—
And suddenly he regained control of his body just in time for his legs to buckle and drop him completely, out of the way of the asteroid but stuck in a crumpled ball of planet that still couldn’t breathe or blink or think or—or—or—
“Earth!” Luna was suddenly in his field of vision like he’d always been there, a wavering figure in a sea of black. “Earth, are you alright? Breathe!” His head tilted, eyes visibly drawing up and down like he could puzzle out the reason for it, and the moment their eyes met, Earth saw the recognition and awareness flood into his silver. “I told—” He cut himself off with a frustrated sound. “Just breathe, Earth, you’re not breathing!” He felt a cold grasp on his wrist, and abruptly Earth’s hand was on Luna’s chest, the fabric of his hoodie rough beneath his fingertips. “Breathe, pl-please?”
The crack in his voice was like a shard driven through his panic, finally breaking the ice enough to—
Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, follow Luna’s breathing until his vision cleared up and the panic wasn’t so heavy, until he slumped in his own gravity and rearranged his still-tired limbs. Earth felt like he’d been frozen to stone, cracked to pieces, and then rebuilt, and maybe that wasn’t so far from the truth. When he picked up his head he was able to see the other three rockies hovering a short distance away, the game completely abandoned save for Phobos and Deimos still determinedly holding onto their asteroid.
He tried for a laugh and completely failed. “Wasn’t that crazy?”
Mars’s brow knit. “Earth, dude, are you alright? What was that?”
“Nothing!”
(He needed them to not pry, please don’t pry, please—)
“Earth, you can’t keep playing the asteroid dodgeball games if you don’t tell them about—!”
He interrupted Luna with a hard shake of his head, pushing to numb feet and grimacing in a feigned, attempted smile towards the others. “It’s fine! But maybe we should end the game. I’m feeling a bit tired, y’know?” Earth whirled around without another word, shoulders hunching, and after another sigh Luna followed him, the distant murmurs of the others left in their wake. Knowing exactly what they were talking about, he just ducked his head and hoped the Sun hadn’t noticed that, or at least wouldn’t mention it. He knew it wasn’t the best to be so shut-down about this—not after everything that’d happened—but stars, he—he thought—he wanted to be done with it. It’d been so long ago, hadn’t it?
(No. No it hadn’t.)
Why couldn’t the fear just let him go?