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One is mature enough to admit that she’s gotten to know Gaty well enough to have an ulterior motive for keeping her here.
At first, it was a power play. There was something so undeniably satisfying about taking Two’s little friend and ripping her right out of their pathetic fingertips, leaving them griefstricken and bedridden. It was so hilarious that she had laughed about it for hours on end. Antisocial, aloof Two, who couldn’t be bothered to be close enough with anyone to be considered friends, suddenly latching onto someone with wide eyes and a dopey smile. She supposes all that isolation in space had changed them. She would empathize, if not for hating them too.
Taking Gaty was all about practicality, and maybe about making herself feel better, too. Two didn’t deserve anyone, but especially not her. She was a paragon of patience, of kindness, and Two was going to hold her until she broke. They were never good at letting go.
So it was about breaking Two, and taking what shouldn’t be theirs, and maybe a little bit about giving Gaty freedom, too, because One can certainly empathize with someone feeling trapped. That was all fair enough. But if that’s all it was, things could have ended there.
But she kept Gaty around. Partially out of spite, both toward Two and that defiant little object. Partially out of curiosity, because she wanted to see just what about her was so fascinating to get Two’s attention and have it stay on her. They’re fickle and easily bored, and yet losing Gaty has driven them to their bed, and they don’t show any signs of leaving it. So why Gaty? What’s so special about her?
At the very least, her question has been answered. She’s gotten to know Gaty fairly well, and although she’s tried not to show too much of her (metaphorical) hand, she’s sure Gaty has learnt a thing or two about her as well. She tries not to be too disquieted by it.
Gaty is like… a gnat. A particularly stubborn gnat, buzzing incessantly in her ear. A gnat with annoyingly strong morals and the mouth to match. She believes in herself with all she has, and somehow, that belief is directed to the people around her, too. She believes in everyone, and yet her belief in One is the most surprising of all. Despite that, she doesn’t much care for One’s actions, and her ripping off Donut’s limbs is the latest thing to have earned her ire. She knows they’re former teammates and all, but he really did deserve it.
“Really, One, you can’t do that to people!” Gaty says with blusterous verve. It’s about the same thing she was saying when One had tuned out. “Mutiliation isn’t right! N-No, more than that, it’s not fair! You can’t go around ripping off people’s legs because they don’t listen to you!”
She thinks the object is only saying that because all she has are legs. “Okay,” she says lazily. “In what circumstances would mutilation be acceptable, then?” She thinks of Three, begrudgingly. It’s wrapped up in layers of strange, complicated emotions, like always. If it had been anyone else, it would have been fine. She feels nothing for Donut other than disdain. But for Three…
”There aren’t a lot!” she retorts.
”Let’s say someone betrays your trust,” she says idly, pacing circles around Gaty. It makes the object look even smaller than she usually does, especially when she curls in on herself. “They chose people who have excluded you, never cared about you, and give everything that was supposed to be just for the two of you to all the people who never deserved it. And let’s say that you don’t hate them, that you love them, even. But you get caught up in the moment, do something you regret, and lose your freedom before you get the chance to fix it. And maybe it’s not their fault, maybe it’s never been their fault, but they’re the victim and you’re the perpetrator, and you both have to live with it.”
…Yes, Gaty’s found out a few things about One. But at least she’s been subtle about it.
”Is this still about mutilation?” Gaty says slowly, her voice going funny and high pitched.
”What else would it be about?”
”Then… Um… I don’t know. That still doesn’t justify it. At least Donut got a happy ending.” She glances toward the screen with a rueful grin, where the object is currently celebrating the return of his arms and legs. One grinds her teeth together in frustration.
”So eloquent,” she scoffs. “Aren’t you supposed to be this great confidant?”
”A great listener, according to some,” she says, and although her tone is bored, her smile falters, her eye twitching. “It’s never been a label I attached to myself.”
”I’m starting to think you’re too unyielding in your beliefs to ever empathize with me,” she says, fluttering her eyes as she lets out a lofty sigh. “I suppose it’s all too easy for you to paint me with the same brush that everyone else does. So what do you think about me then? Am I a freak, a monster, an idiot, a bad person? Tell me all of your opinions. At least they mean something to someone.”
Despite her venom, Gaty doesn’t look deterred. “I can think whatever I want,” she says with a shrug. “So can anyone else. But what you think of yourself is the most important part. After all, you’re the only one who can change yourself.”
”Oh, can I?” she sneers. “You’re right, I suppose I can. But that sounds awfully boring, and it wouldn’t help.”
”I dunno. Being a better person helps most people.”
”But it won’t help me, and it won’t help Th-“ She swallows the name back. “And it won’t help in fixing things, I mean.”
”Fixing things goes beyond undoing your whole mutilation, you know?” she says, raising an eyebrow. “It requires apologies, and understanding, and generally realizing what you did was wrong. That would help.”
”You don’t know me,” she hisses angrily.
”I can guess, can’t I?” she cries. “If it were me-“
”Don’t stand there and act like you know anything,” she snaps in exasperation. “You can judge me all you’d like, and it won’t help either of us. You can’t help me. You can’t change me. Stop sitting there all earnestly and acting like you can.”
Gaty isn’t cowed, impossibly, frustratingly. “I don’t care,” she insists. “I’m going to try anyway. It’s not like I can do much else, y’know…?” She lets out an uneasy laugh.
And One finds she’s sick of Gaty’s attitude, her and her stubborn morals, unrelenting positivity. So she fires a beam of lightning, and it hits the ground right next to Gaty, causing the object to jump and flinch back, legs flailing uselessly in the air.
“What was that for?” she says, looking wounded.
”Consider it a warning,” she retorts, baring her yellowed teeth at her. “You’re only here because I decided to keep you. But that can change at any moment. You should be more careful, unless you want something far less comfortable.”
”You call this comfort?” she says incredulously.
”It’s certainly better than the alternative,” she scoffs.
Gaty just sighs. “What does it matter?” she mutters bitterly. “My words won’t change anything. They haven’t for a while. You’re going to do what you want with me.”
”I’m glad you can admit that much,” One says with a shrug. “It’s far easier to admit that you’re powerless. I’d love to see you when you’re broken and beaten.” She smiles, but it’s thin and humorless. Part of her can’t help but begrudgingly admit that a Gaty without any fight to her just isn’t Gaty at all.
”Powerless? Is that what you think of me?” she says, sounding genuinely hurt.
”What else would you call being yanked around every which way, no better than a means to an end?”
She’s quiet for a moment. “I’m invisible, that’s all,” she says solemnly.
”And you’re angry about it, aren’t you?” One goads, flashing the object an encouraging smile. “Don’t you want them to pay? I’ll give you a front row seat to me tearing Four and Two to shreds, I’m sure you’ll feel better.”
Gaty shakes her head, looking disturbed. “It won’t,” she says flatly. “Will that really make you feel all that better?”
”Of course it will,” she says coldly. “Would it kill you to listen?”
”I have been-“
”They hurt me, so I’ll hurt them,” she spits, back arching. “That’s the only way to fix things. And if you let go of those foolish morals of yours, if you stop with your judgement, I’ll even let you join in.” She offers Gaty a wide, feral smile. “You deserve that bit of freedom, after everything you’ve been through.”
Disappointingly, she’s not even close to being tempted, drawing back instantly. “No,” she says sharply. “If I can’t change your mind, you won’t change mine. I’ll never think it’s right to hurt people.”
”I don’t care,” she pants furiously. “About what’s right.”
”Then what do you care about?!” she yells back.
”I care about Three, and freedom, and revenge!” She raises her voice to meet Gaty’s level, and then yells louder. “What do you care about?! Do you care about anything other than being walked all over?!”
She jerks back, her face scrunching up with pain. “Stop,” she says, her voice turning warbly.
”Do you want Two to continue dragging you around like you’re nothing more than their favorite doll?” she continues with a scoff. “Do you want them to stay latched onto you forever, suffocating and oblivious? At least like this, I’m giving you some kind of liberation! At least I can help someone!” She lets out a bark of laughter, the sound as loud as a peel of thunder.
Or maybe a scream.
”Do you think you’re helping me?” she says, looking truly pitiable.
”Maybe. Or maybe I’m saving you.” Her lips quirk up into a smirk.
”I didn’t ask you to save me,” she says, shaking her head. “I didn’t ask you to hurt other people and paint it as being for my sake. Y-You want me around, but you don’t listen to me!”
“This is better, though, isn’t it?” One says, her eyes wide and unblinking. ”Run away from all your problems. It’s the only solution left if you won’t speak up.” She narrows her eyes at Gaty. “…Figures you would be brave enough to speak up to me, and not to Two. I wonder what could have changed if you had just been braver.”
”I’m plenty brave,” she says, low and dangerous.
One leers over her. “Brave enough to save yourself?” she says sardonically.
She scowls. “Brave enough to sign myself away to you,” she whispers.
In response, she just sighs. “You’re pathetic,” she says. “Very well. If you can’t bring yourself to be interesting, I’ll take it out on someone else. I do still need a signature from Donut…”
That seems to set Gaty off. “Just stop it!” she cries, voice breaking as tears begin to slide down her face. “Leave my friends alone! Why wasn’t saving them from the end of the world enough for you?!”
”You’ve outlived your use,” she says evenly. “But at least you’re nice enough to stay interesting. I can’t say that about the others.”
And interesting she is. Gaty will bend, but never break. She’ll always find a way to argue with One, always having some kind of protest to what she’s doing. It’s nice that she cares so much, really. She so obviously believes in One. She wonders just how much her heart will break when One refuses to change. Because that’s below her, and soon she’ll have all the power in the world—all the more reason to cling to who she is now, because it’s her and no one else that will be the person to save Three.
Gaty isn’t enough of a person to her to warrant treating this seriously. But it’s nice to talk to someone who doesn’t instinctively see the worst in her. And maybe, when she’s alone with One for long enough, she’ll eventually come around to her point of view. Would Three be interested in a pet…?
“I know that you’ve been hurt, and I’m sorry!” Gaty sobs out, tears cutting unrelenting tracks down her face as she trembles like a leaf. “But you can’t use that as an excuse to hurt other people! You have to be better, because I know you’re capable of it!”
”And why should I?” she says icily. “Why do I have to be above everyone? Why do I have to ignore my hurt?” She grabs Gaty, and the object stumbles forward on wobbling legs. She cranes up her neck to stare at One, and like this, her eyes wide and watery as she cries and cries, One doesn’t think she’s seen anything more pathetic. It’s beautiful. “I’m not a paragon, dear,” she says, letting out a lofty sigh. “And you don’t have to be, either.”
Gaty flinches, her shoulders bunching tight together. That seems to hurt her more than anything. She can probably accept One sitting in her own darkness, but her dragging Gaty down so she can acknowledge her own is inconceivable. “Don’t,” she warns.
”I’d rather bask in my own darkness than swallow it for the benefit of others,” she continues airily. “I’d rather pursue the things I care about, even if it means I have to hurt other people. I don’t care. I know they deserve it.”
”And what about us?” she cries. “The objects who are just caught in the crossfire? Do we deserve it?”
”You hardly matter enough for me to say.”
Gaty grits her teeth, looking as if she’s staring down a tornado. One likes the idea of that, likes the idea of being something dangerous and powerful and indestructible, only stopping on her own terms. Like this, she’ll never be hurt again.
”You can stop,” she whispers. “You can stop right here and now, and maybe not everyone will forgive you, but you can start again and find people who accept you. Book did it. She’s happy. You can be too. Happier than this.”
”I am happy,” she retorts. “I’m getting revenge. I’m getting power. And at the end of this, I’ll get exactly what I want.”
”And you think it’ll work?” she rasps.
One narrows her eyes. “You don’t think I’ll be able to?” she hisses, leaning forward. “You don’t think I’ll be powerful enough? Because I will be. I have to be.”
”That’s not what I mean,” Gaty says, shaking her head morosely. “You can’t guarantee the future, no matter how hard you try. As long as your happiness relies on other people, you can’t make it last. You can live for yourself. You probably should.”
”Like you’ve been doing?” she retorts with a sneer. “Cooped up in a kitchen, stewing in your own misery? Being used against Two and shoved off to the side? Kept away from all your friends? Is that your definition of living for yourself?”
”I never said I was good at it,” she whispers, shaking her head.
”Oh, of course,” she scoffs. “Honestly, Gaty, why do you even care?”
“Because I want you to be better,” she sobs. “I want everyone to be better. I know they can be. And I’ll always believe in you with all my heart, One, no matter what happens. I wish… I wish you’d believe in yourself too.”
”For math’s sake, Gaty, you’re just so good, aren’t you?” she huffs with a dismissive roll of the eyes. “You’re so pure and earnest and kind, staring at the worst of the worst and still insisting you can see the best of them. Still insisting you can change them. But you couldn’t change Two enough for them to let you go of their own accord, and you won’t be able to change me. Isn’t this just so desperately boring? Let out all of that anger and bitterness and rage in you, and then you’ll be far more interesting.”
Gaty regards One with a glare and scowl, before letting out a sharp, whooshing breath. “Fine,” she says, the word crisp and biting. “I don’t hate you, and I don’t hate Two, either, but it’s a near thing. I hate being yanked around and treated like a damn bargaining chip, and I can’t stand losing all of my agency.”
”And…?” One says slyly, enjoying the show.
The object has really gotten into the swing of things now, pacing circles into the grass. “And I miss my friends more than anything, but what does that matter?” she continues, biting and sardonic. “Two wouldn’t care if I told them that. They’d just stare at me with their big, dark eyes, and say something about us being friends, so it wouldn’t change anything. They want to be listened to, but they’d never listen to me. Not if it meant they’d be told something they don’t want to hear.”
”Right.”
”And I get that they’ve been hurt, I get that they’ve been alone, and I really do feel bad, but does that mean I should just live for them for a bit?!” she says incredulously. “Give up my life for as long as they think they need me? Because they don’t. They don’t need me to be a good host or a good person, but they’re too afraid to go off on their own to find out if that's true. And they’d never do this for me, you know they won’t! They love their independence, they love doing things on their own terms. They keep me around because it’s what they want, and they’d never once think about what I want.”
”That’s Two,” One says with a rueful sigh. “They never change. Trust me, I’ve tried.”
”And I don’t hate them, I don’t,” she insists, coming to an unceremonious stop as she grits her eyes tightly shut. “I care about them a lot. I even love them. It’s just not fair that they want me to be an accessory to them, always at their side, while they get to be their own person. It’s not fair that this is where it led me, even if it hasn’t been all bad. It’s not fair that if things go back to normal, I’ll go right back to their side, and I won’t be able to complain. At least here, I can live, and not have any expectations on me.”
And abruptly, she comes to a stop, breathing heavily as she scrunches up her face. She looks exhausted, but the good kind of exhausted. She stares down at her legs, or maybe it’s at her body, and slowly, she smiles.
”But I have myself,” she whispers. “I have my friends. I know they’ll always care about me. I’ve been happy in the past, from others and from myself. So I have to trust I can be happy in the future. I want to give myself that choice.” Her eyes flutter, and she sways in place. Maybe this is the closest One will ever get to seeing an angel.
And maybe she could say something to One, but she doesn’t. Because this isn’t about One, and they both know it. It’s about Gaty, for once, and neither of them are about to change that.
One is silent for a long moment, letting Gaty’s words linger, letting them matter, before she breaks the silence with an exuberant grin. “Doesn’t that feel much better?” she says brightly, tilting her head.
In response, she smiles ruefully. “…Maybe,” she relents. “But nothing will change if I dwell on it. And change is all I want.” Her eyes sparkle with energy, vicious and vivacious and alive.
”We’re in agreement there,” she replies with an approving hum. “And I suppose change is nice. But I’d rather you bring it just like that, angry and indignant and righteous, rather than trying to make yourself all agreeable. Maybe Two would like that, but I much prefer this.” She leans forward, grinning cuttingly. “Between you and me, this is a great look on you.”
And it’s funny, how much this has made Gaty come alive. She was always so quiet around Two, struggling to get a word in edgewise. Next to One, she’s fierce and defiant and alive. Much better than the strange, twisting versions of the future that she could never get right, no matter what she tried. And the arguing even feels good, too, at least when it doesn’t end in screams and shattering.
Gaty levels a look on One, expression unimpressed. “Do you want to kiss me?” she prompts. “You can be honest, I won’t mind.”
The question is so sudden One can’t help but jerk back. “What?” she says with an incredulous laugh. “No, what are you…?” And then she stops, really looking at Gaty.
It started with slighting Two, sending them spiraling and making them useless. But it didn’t end there. Somehow, despite the odds, she’s found herself caring about Gaty, in all her insistence and ferocity and naivety. She’s beautiful when she lets onto the full extent of her feelings. She’s beautiful regardless, although maybe that shade of periwinkle she sports would be better off tinted blue…
She admires Gaty, in a way a person admires an ant. An ant can be stubborn and strong and hardworking, but in the end, they’re merely just an ant. An… awfully empathetic ant. An ant with a surprising amount of sides to her. An ant who believes wholeheartedly in her, no matter the circumstance.
One straightens. Wherever this goes, she’s sure it can be useful to her. That’s the, ah, main focus, but there’s some other, more enjoyable aspects that she might as well savor in the process.
”Maybe I do,” she says slyly, rolling on her heels. “What of it?”
Gaty sighs, a whooshing, faintly frustrated thing. “You’ll never give me a straight answer, will you?” she says flatly.
”That’s part of the fun,” she wryly replies.
Rolling her eyes, Gaty moves toward One, stopping in front of her and craning up her neck. Not even hesitating, she stands on the tips of her toes so she can meet One’s lips, and One doesn’t stop her. Call it morbid curiosity. Call it pointless sentimentality. Call it something that doesn’t mean anything at all, because it won’t, when this is all over.
And yet, she savors the kiss. Not her first, not her best, not her favorite, but still indescribably special in a way she can’t quite put into words. Gaty kisses One like she’s missed it, which is strange because Two kisses her often, but she doubts that’s particularly enjoyable. Gaty kisses One like she enjoys it, like this electric feeling between them isn’t just in One’s mind.
Gaty kisses One like… she loves her. Hm.
They break, gasping for air, but Gaty doesn’t throw herself away from One screaming bloody murder, which is probably what a sensible person would do. Instead, she leans against One. The scratchy feeling of her wooden body, the warmth of the skin of her legs, the heaving of her chest, is sort of overwhelming to One. But relieving, too. People don’t usually stay, not like this, if only because the vast majority of her trysts were in timelines that never really happened, not in real life.
”That was nice, right?” Gaty says, less of a search for reassurance and more like something commiserating. Like she’ll be looking back at this as anything but a mistake.
One can imagine it now. Gaty confessing to Two in tears that she kissed One, the very Algebrailian who conspired to make the both of them miserable, to tear her from their arms. Gaty would say something about how lonely and longing she felt without Two at her side, and how cruel and manipulative One was, and how the kiss didn’t mean anything and she was just imagining Two the whole time. And Two would be hurt but forgive her, because they just love her that much-
-Except, that’s not what Gaty would do, is it? One has never been disposable to her. She’s a person. A person capable of change and happiness, no matter what happens. It’s dreadfully optimistic. But to be a person instead of a monster is something new, something novel, something amazing. To be believed in so strongly… It makes her wonder what it would be like to be a better person. But if this is where good people end up, One thinks she’s fine as is.
”I guess it was nice enough,” she relents, refusing to let on how she truly feels.
”Oh, so you did like it,” she teases, nudging One insistently.
”That’s not-“ she begins in indignation.
“You love me,” Gaty says, a breathy, relaxed smile on her face. It rests so easily on her features, lacking any fakeness or strain. “That’s better than Two. They just love the idea of me.”
”I-I don’t love you,” One protests, caught off guard at being put so suddenly on the back foot. “That’s beneath me. I have far bigger feelings for a far more important person.”
”That doesn’t have to be mutually exclusive,” she sagely replies. “I can love multiple people. I’ve done it plenty of times. Besides, you have to feel something for me. You wouldn’t bother with this otherwise.”
“It’s not going to last,” she refutes, shaking her head.
“That’s okay. Nothing does. But that doesn’t make it nothing when it’s gone.” She stares at One pleadingly. “Let me make a decision,” she begs. “Let me have some control. Some of this is your fault too.”
”This is your decision?” she can’t help but ask, faintly baffled.
“What’s wrong with that?”
”It’s just hard to imagine anyone choosing me, that’s all,” she mutters with a shrug. It’s… rare, in the timelines she’s seen. “But out of everyone, you’re one of the better options.”
”Oh?” she asks, quirking a brow. “I didn’t know you had a list. Am I near the top?”
”If that makes you feel better.”
Gaty laughs. The sound is clear and bell-like. It’s the best song One has ever heard. She shifts on top of One’s chest, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I love you too,” she whispers, her breath hot and heavy against One’s cheek as her eyes flutter.
She trusts One enough for this. She trusts One. She trusts One? No one’s ever trusted her before. That’s… new. That’s nice.
(Three didn’t trust her. She thinks of screams, of shattering, of shards forced back together into something sidling and strange. She wonders if it would have changed anything. If things would have been worse.)
Gaty lays on her chest, and One thinks of all the ways she can ruin this. And then the object smiles enough, bright enough to banish the clouds from the sky, and One dedicates herself to living in the present.