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siffrins-wandering-omen · 4 months

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Natural Satellite [ch 4]

Siffrin tries to sort through their feelings. (He isn’t very good at it.) You can start from chapter one here.

Loop is waiting for you under the Tree, like they knew you’d come. When you catch their eye, they give you a sympathetic smile. “Trouble in paradise?” Right. Paradise. That’s one word for it. “This is why I didn’t want to tell,” you mutter. Isa is—was the last source of warmth in this whole miserable charade. If even he’s mad at you—and not just for this loop, but for all of them… Stars. You can’t even bear to think about it. It's funny how, even without a mouth, you can always tell when Loop is smiling. You can even sort of tell what kind of a smile it is—if it’s mocking or sarcastic or, once in a blue moon, genuinely fond—even though you normally can't. Right now, it is definitely not fond.

You can’t understand why he’s acting like this.

It’s barely his second loop. Keeping a low profile was easy, back then. Fun, even! On your second loop—your 22nd!!—your bones didn’t creak like an old house. Saying your lines didn’t make you want to throw up. You were barely even tired. So where does Isabeau get off, throwing a tantrum after two relatively successful loops? He hasn't even had to fight the King yet! This is the easy part!

It just isn’t fair. Isa was the last good thing. Teaching Bonnie to fight takes almost an hour; and as soon as Mira opens up about her feelings, she just goes on and on and on. Odile is even worse. Because of her, you can’t take a step out of line without fielding a full-fledged interrogation. But lying in the field with Isa was… nice, sometimes. It wasn’t real, but it was nice.

And now it’s gone.

No more play-pretend. No more second chances. He can see you now, the real you. Of course he’s horrified. You’re the stuff of horror! A monster from one of Mira’s awful voyeuristic books, pulled off the page and gifted one eye and a lying smile.

You peek at him through your lashes. At least while he’s asleep, Isa looks the same as always. When he’s asleep, he can stick to the blinding script.

You can’t sleep. But that’s in the script, too. You never sleep. You can’t remember the last time you could.

There’s no point wasting time here, not when looking at him still makes you so angry. You slip silent out of bed and pad soundlessly across the floor. You’ll talk to Loop. It’ll be easier to think without an audience.

* * *

Loop is waiting for you under the Tree, like they knew you’d come. When you catch their eye, they give you a sympathetic smile. “Trouble in paradise?”

Right. Paradise. That’s one word for it.

“This is why I didn’t want to tell,” you mutter. Isa is—was the last source of warmth in this whole miserable charade. If even he’s mad at you—and not just for this loop, but for all of them… Stars. You can’t even bear to think about it.

It's funny how, even without a mouth, you can always tell when Loop is smiling. You can even sort of tell what kind of a smile it is—if it’s mocking or sarcastic or, once in a blue moon, genuinely fond—even though you normally can't.

Right now, it is definitely not fond.

“Stardust,” Loop says firmly. “First thing’s first: I’m not going to be your relationship counselor, so don’t ask.”

“My—what? What relationship?”

Their smile gets even less fond. “Wonderful. Yes. Naturally.” They heave a sigh, looking enormously put-upon. “Alright, stardust. I’m only going to say this once, so you’d better listen.”

…You’re listening.

“I know you’re not very smart, so I’m going to make this simple for you, alright? Your Fighter isn’t upset about the loops.”

“Huh? Then why—”

“He’s upset that you keep hurting yourself. Obviously.”

But… why? “But it goes away when I loop back.”

“Are you a baby?” Loop demands. “Did you never learn object permanence? Things don’t just go away. Or have you already forgotten what happened when you tried to touch him, back when—”

“Stop.” You don’t remember putting your hands over your ears but you must have, because there they are. You don’t want to hear this. You made it so it didn’t happen. It didn’t happen. It didn’t happen so it doesn’t hurt, why would it hurt, it doesn’t make any sense to hurt over something that never even happened.

Loop’s expression sours. “You know what, stardust? Never mind. I’m here to help with the loops, not some ridiculous schoolboy crush. You can figure this out on your own.”

You frown at them. They’ve never refused to talk about something before. Just one more casualty of Isa’s disruption, you suppose. Why does everyone insist on rewriting their roles? And why did they have to wait until now? A hundred loops ago, you might’ve been glad for some company. But it’s much too late for that. You’re already all emptied out. You don’t remember how to feel anything but tired. “But why?”

“None of your business,” Loop snaps. “You know, you could try being a little less selfish for a change. You’re not the only one who’s tired.”

“But—”

“Oh, for Stars— Do I have to spell it out for you? Go away!! It’s the middle of the night!”

“...Do you even sleep?”

“Do you?”

Ha ha! Yeah. They do have you there.

* * *

When you get back to the Clocktower, you’re surprised to find Isa sitting up in bed, pulling on his boots. He’s not supposed to do that here. He’s supposed to sleep through the night. (You would know. You haven’t slept through a night in your entire life. Or, if you have, you can’t remember.)

“What are you doing.”

“Sif!!” he whispers, eyes widening. “I—um. You were gone…”

Something in your chest seems to flutter, the flicker of an ember you thought had long gone cold. You diligently stamp it out. Unpredictability is a risk you can’t afford. Besides, you already know what he thinks of you. He wants you, but not enough to touch you. He wants you, but not enough to tell you. Which means he doesn’t really want you at all.

You saw how he looked at you today. With revulsion. With disgust. But you knew that already, didn’t you? Of course he never wanted you. He wants the stupid little puppet you’ve been waving around. Cute, silly Siffrin, with the jokes and the winks and the chipmunk cheeks, always hiding a bashful smile under the brim of their hat. A stupid little squirrel who can’t even remember their own stupid made-up name. Someone small enough to make him feel big. Useless enough to make him feel useful.

If that Siffrin ever existed, they’ve been dead for a long time. Now there’s only you.

“Went for a walk,” you tell him, slipping out of your boots without looking up.

“O-Oh. Were you… talking to Loop?”

It still throws you, hearing Loop’s name on someone else’s tongue. Loop is supposed to be yours, just like the loops are yours. Your prison, your warden. “Does it matter?”

Isabeau shrinks in on himself a little. “Um. I guess not. I was just, um, curious.”

“If you don’t sleep, you won’t fight as well,” you inform him. Even if he’s thrown away the script, the other actors need him. “You’ll be clumsy. Slow. You could get someone hurt.”

“Oh,” he mumbles, scrunching down a little more. “I guess so, yeah. What about you, though?”

“You don’t have to worry about me.” You can take care of yourself and everyone else. You’ve proven it a hundred times over. And anyway, you don’t sleep.

“Oh. Um. I’m… probably still gonna, though.”

You roll your eyes. “Do what you want. Just move over. I need to lie down.”

Even with your eyes closed, you can feel his gaze on you. Sure enough, when you glare through your lashes, you catch him staring. “What.”

When his face twists with hurt, something tugs at your— Oh. Not your stomach. Your chest. Your chest feels tight, like there’s something expanding inside. Your ribs creak. Your sternum aches.

A hundred loops ago, you might’ve thought about reaching for him. With your words, if not your hands. Isa, you look so sad… Are you okay? Is there anything I can do? If I make a joke, will it make you happy? If I pretend to be a real person, will you believe me?

You don’t say anything.

“Just… um.” Isa chews his lip, his face all scrunched with hurt. He looks tormented. Pained. (But of course he does. He’s grieving someone he thought was still alive.)

It’s better this way, you remind yourself. Better to tear off the bandaid in one clean jerk. A blade through the throat might sting, but any idiot would agree that it’s better than dying by inches, in pieces. “Is this going to take long? I’m tired.”

“Oh,” he mumbles. “Um. Y-Yeah, you do look pretty tired. It’s… nothing, I guess. Sorry. We can talk about it tomorrow. Or, uh. Yesterday? Haha.”

You don’t laugh. You don’t smile for him, either. There’s no point playing your role anymore. All you can do is sink your teeth into the inside of your cheek until the sting in your mouth is louder than the one in your chest.

When his smile falters, you find that you can’t look at him anymore. You roll over and look at the ceiling. But you don’t sleep. You can’t remember the last time you slept.

You stare at nothing and wait for the sun to rise.

* * *

Isa doesn’t make the bread joke.

Your lines are so practiced that you almost just say yours, out-of-context. But of course you don’t. You’re not stupid. You don’t care that he’s ruining everything. At least one of you is a professional. After all, the show must go on!

You loot the pantry. You pick up the key. You keep moving.

* * *

You don’t find what you’re looking for in this loop, either. You still can’t understand why. Surely an article about the King should be in Euphrasie’s office, or the secret library. But it isn’t. It isn’t anywhere. And there’s no point charging in to fight the King if you don’t have anything new to ask him. You already tried that the last six times.

You need a fresh start.

You dart a glance at Isa. You still remember what he asked, about ending the loop with your dagger. But Tears don’t count, surely. They’re so gentle. Like plunging into a cold stream on a hot day. Sometimes you use them even when you aren't stuck: to change the scene, or just to catch your breath. Though you probably can’t get away with that anymore. (Just one more thing that’s been taken from you.)

Still, you should probably be sneaky about it, this time. Not a problem. Going unseen might be the only thing you’re really good at. You smile at Mira. You sidestep Bonnie. You slink down the hallway—

—and then Isa scruffs you like a kitten, yanks you back, and flings himself face-first into the Tear.

You’ve seen your friends Stopped in battle a hundred times, at least. It should feel normal. Just as nothing as everything else.

It—doesn’t.

Maybe it's the shift in focus, attention undiverted by the chaos of combat. Or maybe it’s just that Isa is so much more alive than you are. When it’s you, using a Tear is a scene-change. Stage directions. It’s nothing. But to see the light draining out of Isabeau feels—different. It feels different than when it’s you.

Isa flings himself into the Tear and his smile goes utterly still. The time-stop seeps down his throat, washes over his chest. You’re still dangling from his grip as his arm turns to stone.

“No,” you gasp, scrabbling at his wrist, “No, you—”

[ f e e l a t u g a t y o ur s t o m a c h ]

—and you wake up.

* * *

Isa gets to the field even faster this time. “Hey, Sif.”

“Why would you do that?” The anger in your voice surprises even you. You thought that sort of thing had all been burned out of you.

“Just testing a theory,” he says distractedly, pulling out a notepad and flipping through it. “I’ve been making a list of things we need to—“

“You shouldn’t have done that!” You can feel heat building in your gut. All the blood you’ve swallowed, coating your throat like bile. “You don’t know the rules! What if we didn’t loop, and Bonnie had to watch you— Or if you stayed dead?? There’s too much at stake, you can’t just go around testing stupid theories that we don’t even need!! We already know how to loop!! That isn’t the problem!!”

“Well, it’s a problem for me.”

(What.)

“And, I mean… I’m not trying to be rude, but it kinda seems like you don’t know the rules, either. Like, what if you only had a set number of deaths? What if one day, you tried to loop and just—stayed dead?”

Haha!! Wow. What a nice idea. But of course you could never be so lucky.

Isa holds out both hands, palms-up. “I’m just saying, we’re still figuring this out! What’s wrong with me trying, too?”

Your pulse hammers in your ears, screams in your veins. “What’s— Everything!! You’re not even supposed to be here!!”

“But I am here, though?”

“But you shouldn’t— You don’t deserve this!! You can’t just run around trying things!! I— We all need you to play your role. We can’t do this without you.” You probably could, if it came to it, but it would take a lot longer.

Isa shrugs. “Then you’re gonna have to do it with me.”

…Yes. That’s the idea.

“Oh. No. Not just the King,” he says firmly. “The loops, too. Or else I’m just gonna keep trying to figure it out on my own.”

Your lips peel back from your teeth. You can’t help it. He’s being ridiculous. Why can’t he understand that you deserve this? “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re trying to control something you couldn’t even begin to understand.”

“Well, maybe we can figure it out together?”

He sounds so reasonable. So calm. For some reason, that’s the last blinding straw. He’s still talking to you like a person, like he can see you, like you’re still—

It doesn’t matter. You put on your coldest glare. “I think I liked you better when you didn’t remember.”

That one lands. You can see it go through him like a sledgehammer. Bullseye! Finally, a clean hit!

“Um,” he mumbles, looking at his hands. “I, uh. Haha. I mean… yeah. I get that. It’s easier to hide.”

You bark a wild laugh. Well!! He’d certainly know about that!!!!

“But I really think—!!” Isa hesitates, looks away. “I know you probably think I’m, like, kinda dumb, but I’m actually pretty good at thinking through stuff like this.”

This again? “I don’t think you’re stupid.”

He startles. “You—oh? Uh? I-I mean, that’s, hehe, it’s—I appreciate you saying so, but I guess I mean, I might sorta be better than you—”

“I know you’re a huge nerd.”

“—Hwuh?”

“We talked about it.” Saying it out loud sends a strange sort of thrill down your spine. You’ve never talked about a past loop before. “A bunch. You were a huge nerd, but you wanted to be different, so now you are.”

“Y-Yeah…”

“But mostly on the outside.”

He winces. “Yeah.”

“Because you’re still a huge nerd.”

“Pffft— Sif!! You can’t just call a guy a huge nerd!!”

Your forehead furrows. “I thought you wanted people to know you were smart.”

“Oh,” he says, a little distantly. “Yeah. I guess I kinda do, huh?”

You shrug. He’s the one who said so.

“W-Well— I just mean, I think I could help! Probably! Maybe not right away, but if you tell me what you’ve figured out…”

You chew it over. He’s… not exactly wrong, is he? Isabeau is sort of unnervingly smart. He figured out a bunch of things even when he didn’t have any context. And you can’t really protect him anymore, since he’ll just keep remembering, so… maybe it would be… fine? “Um. I… guess so?”

To your surprise, he bounces on his heels, beaming. “Yes!!! Okay!!! Yes!!! Let’s crabbing do this!!! Okay, okay, okay, we gotta start with the basics, right?” He whips a pen out of his pocket and uncaps it with deadly seriousness. “Tell me everything you know.”

You can follow the series on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53412649/chapters/135189547

#fic rec #in stars and time #GOOD fic i am in TEARS

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siffrins-wandering-omen · 4 months

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Natural Satellite [ch 2]

An In Stars and Time AU. In chapter two, Siffrin phones a friend. Isa consults a confidante. You can read ch 1 here.

“Mira,” Isabeau says seriously, taking a knee in front of the bench so he can grab both of her hands. “Is there a hallway in the House called the Death Corridor?” She blinks at him, owlish. “Um. W-Well… yes, actually. How did you—” “And your roommate, back in the House. Is her name Claude? And you don’t really get along?” “I’m not sure I’d say that we… Well, maybe we could get along better, but—” “And you— Did you teach a class once? But it went really bad?” “Isabeau!” Mira huffs, drawing herself up. “What is this about! And—how do you know all of that?” Isabeau takes a breath. He lets it out. “Mira,” he says. “I think maybe I can see the future.”

[In Stars and Time spoilers through at least act 4]

Chapter 2

Isa remembers.

Except Isa can’t remember, because… because he just can’t! Loop promised. And, and—and if the actors are starting to remember, then what’s even the point? All this time you’ve been saying your lines for them, smiling and winking and playing along to protect them. If you can’t shield your family from this, why go through with it at all?

And what are you supposed to do when the others start to remember? You can’t even imagine how dangerous Odile would be. And how angry. And Mira, stars, Mira will be so disappointed; but even worse, she’ll blame herself, you know she will. And oh, stars, Bonnie—

“What makes you think they’re going to remember?”

You whip around, bristling. “Weren’t you listening? It’s already happening! Isa knows!! He saw what happened last time and he, he doesn’t know it’s real yet but when it happens again… Why are you laughing???”

“Who, me?” Loop hides their smirk behind one hand. “No reason. I just, ah, remembered a joke.”

“You’re the one who should be upset!” you hiss. “You lied to me! You’re supposed to be helping me and you said, you promised that no one would remember! That it was only me!”

“That’s certainly the impression I had, yes.”

“How am I supposed to do this if you’re just going to lie to me???”

“Ohh, stardust,” Loop sighs. “You always take everything so personally! It isn’t all about you, you know.”

“He saw me use the dagger!!!”

Loop shrugs innocently. “I did tell you not to do it. I hate to say ‘I told you so,’ but…”

“No! No! You are not blaming this on me!!!”

“I’m not the one who put the dagger to your throat, stardust.”

“You put it in my hand! You put it in my head! It’s the same blinding thing!!!”

For the briefest instant, Loop almost looks pained. But the moment you blink, it’s gone. “Haha. Maybe. I suppose it doesn’t really matter who’s to blame.”

“So what do I do?”

“We~ell,” Loop hums thoughtfully. “What makes you think that all of them are going to remember? It might just be the Fighter.”

Your forehead furrows. “Why would it just be him?”

“Why not?”

You shoot them a murderous glare.

“Oh, come on, stardust,” Loop giggles, “don’t look like that. I’m trying to help you! Besides. Did it ever occur to you that this might be a good thing?”

“No.”

“But if you had a co-conspirator… Someone to provide a fresh perspective; to help you think things through…”

“No!!”

Loop gives you a tolerant smile. “Alright, stardust. Enlighten me. Why not?”

“I don’t need help!!” But—no. That’s not the reason. “No. I mean. It’s… Isn’t it already bad enough? And Isa’s…” Soft. Honest. True to the bone. “…sensitive. His feelings all come spilling out. And he’s a coward. He couldn’t handle the truth.”

“Haha, ouch! Mee-yow! Who knew you had such sharp claws?”

“You did.”

“Yes, I suppose I did, at that.” Loop stretches and yawns. Whenever they pull in a really deep breath, their face glows just a little brighter. “So? What are you going to do?”

“What can I do?”

Loop taps their chin thoughtfully. “Sometimes a nightmare is just a nightmare, no? It sounds to me like you need to test your little hypothesis.”

“And how do I do that?”

“Hm… You could smell him!”

Ha, ha. Hilarious. It’s so funny, you forgot to laugh.

“What!!” Loop protests. “I’m not joking! Your Kid said that Time Craft smelled like sugar, didn’t they? If your Fighter smells sweeter than usual…”

“And how am I supposed to know what he usually smells like?”

“Aw. Stardust. My sweet, adorable, stupid little stardust. You know there’s no point trying to lie to me.”

…Okay, so maybe they have a point. You have spent 100-some nights—100-some of the same night sharing a bed with Isabeau. Curled under the blanket just a heartbeat away, so close your noses nearly brush. Listening to Isa stammer his way through a cut-short confession. Watching him sleep, face slack, cheek scrunched against the pillow. By now you could trace the outline of his face with your eyes closed. Of course you know how he smells. Like fresh laundry and cut grass. Like sweat and salt and good clean dirt.

“Okay,” Loop says tolerantly. “If you really won’t smell him, I’m certain you can find some other way. Sleep on it, stardust. Unless you’re ready to give up…?”

You wrinkle your nose at them. “Is that what you want?”

“Stardust!” Loop gasps, clutching their pearls. “You insult me! You know I’m only here to help.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Ohh, don’t be like that! There’s no one keeping you here, you know. If you’re upset, you’re welcome to storm off anytime you like.”

“No,” you say on reflex, and then hesitate. Of course you’re upset. You’re always upset. But this is the only place where you get to be upset without upsetting someone else. “I mean. Um. Is it okay if I stay?”

To your immense irritation, Loop reaches out to tap you on the nose. “You’re the master of your own destiny, stardust. Do what makes you happy.”

* * *

It’s a beautiful day. Dormont is a beautiful town! It’s all steep, sloping rooftops and cozy clay facades, and you can always hear the gentle burble of the river running through it. There’s a buzz of anxiety in the air, but the whole town seems to have agreed to point all their nervous energy toward preparations for their end-of-the-world party. Isa can’t think of a better place to spend what might be his last night on earth.

By the time he finds his way back to town square, he’s more-or-less calmed down. So, of course, that’s when the deja vu hits.

“Good morning!” the boulangier greets him, holding out a picnic basket. “You’re one of the saviors, aren’t you? A friend of little Mirabelle’s? I wanted to give you all a treat! It’s nothing much, just a token of our appreciation!”

A chill drips down Isabeau’s spine. Hasn’t he heard this before? Every word; every pause for breath and sheepish smile… He saw this already, didn’t he? But that was just a dream. It wasn’t really real.

The boulangier is still smiling, waiting for an answer.

“O-Oh! Haha, wow, thanks so much! That’s really nice of you! Aw, but we couldn’t possibly—”

“But you must!” the boulangier laughs, again, exactly like he did in Isa’s dream. “Besides. If you don’t succeed tomorrow, there’ll be no one left to sell to, heh. It’s really the least I can do!”

“Ahh… Haha, well, um. I guess if you insist, we’ll take you up on it!” He grins at the boulangier, trying to look like someone strong enough to put your faith in. (Just like he did the last time.) “But once we beat the King tomorrow, we’re coming back to pay for ‘em!”

The boulangier pats him on the shoulder. If you beat the King, I’ll— “—bake you all the croissants you can eat!”

…Right.

* * *

And then. It just. Keeps happening.

The kid standing at the north end of town challenges him to a rock-paper-scissors-off. Odile gives him a distracted nod on her way into the general store. The runner jogging around the statue of the Change God whacks him on the shoulder and grins before wishing him good luck. Just like Isabeau remembers. Every step, every smile, every shift in the wind… it’s all exactly how he remembers.

…What is he supposed to do with this????

He needs a sanity check. A sounding board. So Isabeau does what he always does when he needs to make sure he’s not being completely stupid: he goes and finds Mira.

* * *

He finds her sitting in front of the library, exactly where he found her yesterday. (No. Not yesterday. His dream of yesterday. His dream of… today? Whatever.)

“Mira.”

“Oh, Isabeau!” she says, brightening. “Are you feeling any better? You looked a little out of sorts, earlier.”

He can still feel the fear crawling over his skin, but Mira’s voice makes the itch recede a little. Just looking at her is enough to make him feel more relaxed. He can always trust Mirabelle to act exactly like herself.

Isabeau isn't here for advice, exactly, because Mira doesn’t really give advice. Mostly she listens intently, her whole face scrunched with focus, and asks leading questions until she’s very gently nudged you to the answer. If pressed, she’ll insist that you got there on your own. (By now, Isa’s learned that it’s pointless trying to argue.)

It was just the two of them, once. Before they found Odile; before Siffrin found them, and then saved Bonnie… Just a little more than half a year ago, their little family was only Isa and Mira. And it was already good!!!

“Mira,” Isabeau says seriously, taking a knee in front of the bench so he can grab both of her hands. “Is there a hallway in the House called the Death Corridor?”

She blinks at him, owlish. “Um. W-Well… yes, actually. How did you—”

“And your roommate, back in the House. Is her name Claude? And you don’t really get along?”

“I’m not sure I’d say that we… Well, maybe we could get along better, but—”

“And you— Did you teach a class once? But it went really bad?”

“Isabeau!” Mira huffs, drawing herself up. “What is this about! And—how do you know all of that?”

Isabeau takes a breath. He lets it out. “Mira,” he says. “I think maybe I can see the future.”

Whatever she expected, it clearly wasn’t that. She takes one of her hands back so she can rest two fingers against his forehead. Checking for a fever, probably. He almost wishes that he was sick. At least it’d mean that what he saw was just some stupid fever-dream.

But he’s out of luck. Mira draws her hand back, frowning. “You… um? Or? What… makes you think that?”

“I’m pretty sure I just dreamed, like, this whole day.” Just saying it out loud makes him feel a little lighter. “And I don’t just mean a normal dream. I mean, like, accurately. All the little details and everything. And tomorrow, too. I thought it was just a dream, but—stuff keeps coming true!! I keep knowing stuff I couldn’t have known, and recognizing stuff I shouldn’t have seen, so… So what the crab else am I supposed to think????”

“Hm,” she hums. “Hmm. It’s not— I don’t understand how it would work, but… if you really knew all that, then I suppose I can’t just deny it.”

“How did it feel when you got Chosen?” he asks hopefully. Generally speaking, he tries not to ask about the Change God’s blessing—talking about it always puts Mira in a weird mood, and the last thing he wants to do is upset one of his favorite people in the world—but these seem like extenuating circumstances. “Was there, like, a moment? Where you felt… you know. Magic?”

Sure enough, Mira’s face darkens. “Haha. I, ah… no. No moment.”

“So someone could get blessed and not even notice?”

“I—ah—theoretically? I suppose?”

Isabeau nods slowly. “Mira. I think maybe I got blessed.”

She snorts, and then very quickly tries to look like she didn’t. “Oh. You’re serious. W-Well, um… I suppose it could only be a good thing! Theoretically speaking! Especially if you can warn us about potential pitfalls. Did we, um… In this vision of yours, did we beat the King, or…?”

Oh. Oh. Isabeau absolutely cannot tell her why they didn’t beat the King. “Uhh. We… didn’t make it that far. But!! But we definitely will this time!!”

“Yes,” she agrees, nodding fiercely. “We’ll make sure of it.”

* * *

Sif doesn’t show his face until dinnertime. When they finally turn up, they’re almost their normal self again. A little quiet, but that is normal, for Sif. If Isa hadn’t seen what he saw, he wouldn’t think anything of it.

But he did.

Unfortunately, he can’t just ask about it in front of everyone. So Isabeau bides his time. He doesn’t try to talk to Sif until he’s sure that the others are definitely asleep.

“Sif,” he whispers.

Siffrin’s feet twitch.

“Sif. Siffarooni. Siffrin.”

Grudgingly, Siffrin rolls over. (Isa tries not to look at his neck.)

“Um. Sorry? To wake you? I just—sorry, it’s kind of a weird question b-but you, um. You wouldn’t… hurt yourself, right?”

Sif’s eye widens. Surprise, then wariness. “What is this about?”

“N-Nothing!! Nothing!! I just—I had that nightmare, remember, from earlier? And I guess it freaked me out pretty bad cause I— I trust you, of course I trust you, I just. Um. C-Can’t get the image out of my head.”

Siffrin stares at him. Their expression is completely unreadable. Almost as blank as they looked before driving that blade into their neck. The ragged edge of tearing skin. Blood on your hands. Blood on his—

“Sorry,” Isa whispers, squeezing his eyes shut, “Sorry, sorry, I just—I know I’m being really crazy, I know you don’t like to be touched, I just— Can I touch you? Just for a second? I know I’m being stupid, I’m really sorry, I just—I think it might, um…”

“Okay.”

Isa’s eyes fly open. “O-Okay?”

Sif nods.

“Really?”

Another nod.

“‘Cause there’s really no pressure!! I know I was being… s-sort of dramatic, but it’s really totally fine if you don’t— I really don’t wanna feel like I forced you, or—

“No. It's okay.” Sif goes quiet for a second, considering. “Tomorrow's important. We all need you to get enough sleep.”

“R-Right. Right!! Then I’ll just, um…” Isabeau hesitates. Sif’s neck is almost always covered by their cloak. Even when they share a tent, Isa’s always careful not to look too close. He wouldn’t want to weird them out by staring—or, worse, make himself look like an even bigger loser than he is. But he has permission, now. And he kind of really needs this.

Lightly, with just the pads of two fingers, he brushes the side of their throat. Whole, now, and unblemished. Not torn open, not seeping blood. Warm under his hands.

—But the second his hand meets their skin, Siffrin flinches violently.

Right away, Isa jerks his hand back. “S-Sorry!! Sorry!! Maybe if I just— Can you give me your wrist? And I can, um, f-feel your pulse, maybe?”

He can see Sif's throat bob as they swallow.

“Sorry!!!” he yelps. “Never mind!! I was just—”

“No,” Sif whispers. “Um. Here.”

Sif’s hand creeps up the mattress, settles on the pillow between them. It is so much smaller than Isa’s. (Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about how it would feel if they let you hold their hand; if they wanted you to. OH FOR CHANGE’S SAKE, YOU’RE STILL THINKING ABOUT IT. PLEASE. JUST. STOP.)

As soon as he finds their pulse, Isa feels like the world’s biggest crabhole. Siffrin’s heart is racing, their pulse pounding like a terrified rabbit.

Isabeau lets out his breath and gives Sif their hand back. “Um. S-Sorry. And, um… thanks for humoring me. And... sorry for being so selfish?”

Sif shakes his head. “I don't want you to have a bad dream.”

Isa’s chest swells. He beams at them, dizzy with love. “Well!! Don’t worry!! I definitely won’t now!!!”

Sif gives him a puzzled look, their face half-tilted like a dog hearing a sound it’s never heard before.

“U-Um! Just because, um—”

—there’s a blur of white, and a pillow collides with the side of his face.

* * *

If walking into town yesterday was unsettling, entering the House is downright chilling. Everything is exactly as he remembers.

As soon as they step into the Death Corridor, Isa elbows Mirabelle. “So this is—“

“Yes!” she gasps, disbelieving. “Wow! Yes! It really is! I don’t understand how you could—“ When she looks up, she startles, reaching out with both hands. “Ohh, Siffrin, do be careful!! This wing is called—“

And a boulder the size of a two-bedroom apartment crashes down from the ceiling. (Just like Isabeau remembers.)

…Wow. Okay. So this is really happening.

“So there’s this floating water everywhere,” he whispers to Mira, as they make their way past the boulder. “They’re called Tears and I guess if you touch them, you get frozen in time? But to get past them, we use these, um—“

“What are you two whispering about?” M’dame Odile asks sharply.

“Nothing!!” they chorus.

* * *

They make it as far as the second floor. That’s when Sif wanders up to a Tear and glances over his shoulder to stare straight at Isa. “Hey. Isa.”

“Siiiif~?”

“Why did the time traveler break all of his clocks?”

“Wh–Huh? Uh… I dunno, why?”

“He wanted to kill some time.”

—And Sif plunges his arm shoulder-deep into the Tear.

Isabeau’s eyes widen. He opens his mouth to scream but he can’t make a sound, he can see the scene getting darker—

[ h e f e e l s a t u g a t h i s s t o m a c h ]

—and he wakes up.

* * *

Siffrin’s in the field again. But this time, they don’t look surprised to see him. “Hey, Isa.”

“H-Hey, Sif.”

“Hey, Isa?”

“Sif?”

“Why did the time traveler break all his clocks?”

All the hair on Isabeau’s neck stands up. “Hhhhhha! Um! Because he… wanted to kill some time?”

“Oh, stars,” Siffrin whispers. He squeezes his eyes shut, covers his ears with both hands. “You remember.”

If you wanna find out about updates even when I'm too anxious to post on tumblr, feel free to follow the series on ao3!

#OOOO #isat fanfic #in stars and time spoilers #in stars and time

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