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It'd been two years since Book had last seen Needle.
Book remembered it all. Her hair, and her smile, and the way she'd laugh as they ran through their Goiky & Dragons campaign. Book remembered her clothes, and her smell, and her eyes—the way they'd gaze at her. The way they'd crease and close and shine. The way they kept Book staring.
When they'd just started reconnecting, Book had forgotten how badly she missed them. How badly she missed Needle. Everything about her. She styled her hair a different way, and she wore different clothes. She was quieter now—calmer. Noticing it all, drinking in every detail about her—it felt like compensation, almost. For all the lost time.
And then, one day, she was gone.
It happened so quickly. She was talking to Price Tag, and then Pencil joined and Needle was eliminated. Disappointing enough—but there wasn't time to dwell on it, not when the storm was picking up and her team was carrying a fish monster down to the basement.
When they'd gotten back up the stairs, Needle and Barf Bag were gone. Which was normal, actually.
Until Two was confused by their absence. And Book's heart dropped.
Days without Needle turned into weeks, and then months, and then suddenly, it was two years without her. And—it shouldn't've hurt her as badly as it did—they'd been apart for, what, seven years before? Now, when all Book had were memories and missing posters, she wondered how she'd managed during all that time. (The answer was that she hadn't, really. BFB was rough.)
There was a lot going on when Needle was gone. Too much. Pencil, and then the world basically ending—twice, and then them, the contestants, being tasked to pick up the pieces. A lot to manage. But every day, without fail, as night fell and she was left lying awake, alone, all she thought about was Needle, and how she didn't know if she'd ever see, or touch, or be near her again.
In the end, it turns out she had nothing to worry about. It turns out that being forced into this weird hallway was the best thing that could've happened to her—it turned out that there, standing right in front of her, staring into her eyes again and gasping, was Needle.
Book remembered the missing posters. Book remembered the way Needle's frozen, smiling face would stare back at her teary eyes through the paper. Book remembered the regret, and the heartache. And suddenly, none of it mattered. Suddenly, no one else mattered—suddenly, the world around them faded and the breath was stolen from her throat and they were running into each other, and—word, had she missed those arms. The proximity. The warmth. Feeling her. She clung on, like if she let go, Needle would disappear again.
After a few seconds of their group hug, the others dispersed into a crowd around the missing contestants. However, Book couldn't help but sticking to Needle, holding onto her wrists gently. She had to drink in every detail again. Take in the sight. Take in her presence—her hair was long again, just like BFDIA. It made sense. She wouldn't have been able to cut it, yet it was still.. new. Surprising, somehow. Her clothes were a little worn, and she didn't smell... perfect, being away from any means of bathing for two years, but Book didn't care. She couldn't. She just needed to be close to her again. She needed to protect her forever—to phase into her so she could never get lost again—and Book put those thoughts away, loosening her grip on Needle because those were the ideas she was trying to stop having. Oops.
As soon as Book opened her mouth to talk, so did the others, and suddenly the hallway erupted with a cacophony of questions.
"How did you get here? Was it One?" asked Tennis Ball, standing closer than the others. Dora's voice (if you could even call it that) rang out recognizably through the rest of the crowd, and through the mix of sound, Book swore she heard someone say Gaty's name—right—where was she? Or Barf Bag, or—these were the eliminated contestants, weren't they? Where was Ba—
"EVERYONE!" Needle shouted, shifting her arms so her hands would fall into Book's. She intertwined their fingers and squeezed as she faced the others. "Be quiet! We can talk about the details later, but for now, we need your help!"
Needle spared a glance at Book and smiled one last time, before she let go of her and started running down the hall. "Follow me, people!"
And, they did. Book stood, frozen for a moment as she watched the crowd go after her. It was admirable, really. How Needle could do things like that—but she realized she was beginning to fall behind and ran over, landing next to Firey.
"We think this is our way out," Needle said.
Tennis Ball moved to the front. "This? Hm.." and he got closer, inspecting it, almost—until Pillow shoved it open.
"WE TRIED TO KNOCK DOWN THAT DOOR FOREVER! Everyone, GET IN!"
They didn't waste a second. Book sprinted towards the front, if only to watch Needle—well—do anything again, after all this time. She knew it was worth it when they stopped at the edge of the classroom and she watched Needle run out with fire in her heart and passion in her feet. She could only stare in awe, mouth agape. Admirable, again.
Oddly enough, everyone was there, and the crowd scattered, forming a circle made up of separated friend groups—just Needle and Book left in the center. Needle looked around, probably ensuring that everyone was there and good and safe, yet she looked.. almost lost, at the same time, and Book would've went straight to her—if One didn't suddenly appear, and—it all happened so fast, it was all a blur, and…
Book looked up at Needle. One had been dead for a few years now. TPOT was over. Needle had cut her hair again. Book had actually confessed to her. With everything said and done, Needle looked.. happier.
Book remembered, all those years ago, talking to Needle about how they didn't have to think about the competition anymore. How nice that was. She didn't think that over a decade later, she'd be in the same position again, instead this time, she was cuddled up in a hotel room with her.
Through the half-closed blinds, the afternoon light found its way in and shined onto Needle beautifully. She looked like an angel there. Book smiled.
"You're so pretty, Needle."
A chuckle passed through. "This is the third time you've said that today, Book."
Book grabbed onto her hand and squeezed. "I know. It's not my fault you're so gorgeous that I have to say it all the time."
"Oh—" Needle blushed, averting her gaze. "Stop that.."
The smile deepened, shifting into more of a smirk as Book sat up. "What? Telling you the truth? Telling you that you're the prettiest, most beautiful girl in the—"
"Shut uuuup!!!" Needle complained, throwing Book off of her and hiding her face in her hands. Book giggled, moving to pry Needle's fingers away.
"Don't act shy! You're breathtaking."
"Oh my silver—whateverwhateverwhateverwhatEVER, Book!" She kicked her feet around, and Book could only laugh harder.
Through the window, the sun was setting, the bright afternoon spilling into evening. It cast an orange glow across the room that seemed to make everything.. sweeter. Downstairs, people were chatting and laughing and enjoying each other. The world felt warmer.
Up there, in that room, Book was exactly where she wanted to be. Exactly where she hoped she'd be, all those years ago, when she'd lie in the grass staring at the clouds with Needle. Exactly where she hoped she'd be as she watched Needle compete throughout TPOT. Exactly where she hoped she'd be when all she had were missing posters and memories.
She remembered when it'd been years since she'd last spoken to Needle.
Now, she'd never let her go.