Second Chances
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1 - Family Lost
Purple and his mother receive a grim diagnosis, and Purple struggles to find a cure to save his only living family member.
Content Warnings: Disease and Major Character Death
Tick tock. Tick tock.
Purple stared up at the clock that punctuated the silent waiting room with its ticking.Â
10:15 am. His morning elective class was close to wrapping up. He distantly thought that he should care about what heâll miss at school, but he couldnât focus on anything other than the hammering of the clock and how long he waited for a response.
Tick tock. Tick tock.
He looked from the clock to the door, waiting for a nurse to come and summon him. Right now, he had been in the hospital for over two hours and there hadnât been any updates on his motherâs current condition.
If I had slept in, Purple thought, tapping his foot with anxious energy in time with the clock, would she not have made it?
The thing was, he almost had. He had almost shut his blaring alarm off and gone back to sleep. He really hadnât been in the mood to go to school this morning; he was sure there was a test in math, and he wasnât ready for it. School was⌠well, it had become more unpleasant since the divorce. Despite it being a year since Navy left, thoughts of the divorce sent his mind into a negative tailspin. All those times Navy ragged on him to wake up âbright and earlyâ every day for routine exercise, and all those times he got annoyed by Purpleâs fussing made him resent the idea of getting up at all.
He debated sleeping in to spite Navy, but what was the point of that? Not like Navy would show up to witness the spite. All that would come of sleeping in would be the omelets mom prepared growing cold. She was the only parent he had left now; he couldnât let her down by being a brat about school.
And now he faced the possibility of having no parents⌠he found his mother fallen to the kitchen floor, unconscious, with the omelets burning.
Tick tock. Tick tock.
Every second not knowing if Orchid was alright or dead drove Purple mad. He had driven as quickly as he could to the hospital and made enough of a scene in the emergency room to get her wheeled in right away. The doctors had escorted him to a nearby waiting room after they took Orchid to treatment, offering reassurance and describing some procedure theyâre doing.
Knowing that barely worked to calm him down. Purple was no longer actively panicking, but he was fretting. He hated sitting. It was the inability to do anything but wait, unsure what the response would be, unable to take his mind off of anything but his prayers that things will be alright.
Tick tock. Tick- creak.
The door grabbed Purpleâs attention. He stood up preemptively, ready to meet the nurse, only to blanch back as a giant orange stick figure ducked his way through the door frame. Clutching at his massive hand was a golden child, about four or five years old. He looked nervously around the room, sticking close to the orange stickâs leg.
âJust have a seat, Mr. Tango,â the nurse said. âWeâll call you when theyâre done.â
The stick figure nodded at the nurse with a sour expression.
âWill Second be okay?â the child asked the nurse.
âYour older sibling will be fixed up,â the nurse said, smiling softly. âItâs just a minor fracture.â
And what about my mother? Purple wanted to ask. Is she going to be okay?Â
The question died on his tongue as Mr. Tango passed by him to take a seat. Purple instantly stepped back from the towering figure. By the time he and his child found a place to sit, the nurse had already left, shutting the door.
Great, still nothing, Purple thought, returning to his seat. He missed the prior solitude of the waiting room. With other stick figures around, he felt self conscious of his worrying. Not to mention, one of them was a small child. Purple wasnât ready for the annoyance that would follow when that small child inevitably got bored and started wandering around, looking for things to do.
âHello,â the child waved at Purple.
Purple took a deep breath, counted mentally to two, and looked at the child standing before him with what he hoped was a neutral expression.
âHi,â he greeted half-heartedly.
The child tapped his hands together nervously, eyes looking down at Purpleâs feet upon the less-than warm response. Somehow his sour mood didnât send the kid crawling to his parent, which made Purple raise an eyebrow.
âWhat do you want?â Purple asked, baring his teeth in a false grin.
âUm, can I have that?â The child asked, pointing at the table filled with magazines.
Purple waved his hand dismissively. âIâm not using it, and you donât need to ask. Just take it.â
The child brightened and grabbed a magazine. He retreated back to sit by his father, whoâs cold gaze regarded Purple in a way that made Purpleâs skin crawl. The giantâs gaze reminded him of Navyâs.
Specifically, the day Navy left. He could never forget that cold and guarded stare despite Orchidâs best attempts to shield them from him.
âI guess this is it, then,â Navy said, âIâm leaving.â
Donât think about him, Purple mentally scolded, closing his eyes to refocus on the present.
With nothing else to get his mind off of the past and present situation, he watched as the child flipped through the magazine. It didnât take long for the child to realize that magazines were mostly advertisements and boring articles he couldnât read before he placed it to the side. He caught that Purple was looking at him, and Purple failed to look away in time.
âMy sibby broke their thumb.â
Sibby? Purple didnât know how to comment on that odd shorthand for sibling.Â
âAhâŚHow did that happen?â It took Purple a full second before he found his voice. He got the feeling the kid was a bit of a chatterbox, how unfortunate. Purple had no desire to talk, but he felt like he couldnât stay silent either.
Maybe this could get his mind off of things...
âMy dad had a day off, took me and Second in the park,â the child said, âWe did lots of fun stuff and it was really nice out. We were playing truth or dare, and I dared Second to punch a tree!â
He looked expectantly, waiting for Purple to supply a question. Yet when Purple only bothered with a raised eyebrow, Mr. Tango cleared his throat.Â
âYou two didnât answer why you did that in the first place, Gold,â Mr. Tango said.
The child â Gold â looked down at his dangling legs, ashamed. âItâs cuz Secâs as strong as you, dad.â Gold said, âI wanted to see if they could punch a hole in the tree.â
Punch a hole in a tree? Ridiculous. Purple scoffed.
âStill. Punching things without the proper technique can be dangerous,â Mr. Tango said. âI hope you two donât do that again in the future.â
âWe wonât, dad,â Gold said.
Again, Mr. Tango reminded Purple of Navy. That comment was a straight-out warning he said during sparring lessons. His father drilled in many basics on keeping yourself from breaking your arm while fighting. Having that reminder of his father again, combined with the ludicrousness of the childâs story, and the fact they were in the hospital over something so stupid made Purple surly.Â
âLet me guess,â Purple said, âyour sibling was dumb enough to tuck their thumb in their fist while punching?âÂ
That was harsh. Now both father and son were glaring at Purple. Purple could feel his heart hammering, desire to cower and apologize strong, but not strong enough to overcome anger brought on from constant fatigue and stress.
âSecondâs not dumb!â Gold snapped. âThey just didnât know they needed to do that.â
Purple shrugged. âSounds like the definition of dumb to me,â Purple said, âI mean tucking your thumb in is unnatural and uncomfortable, so why do that?â
âNot everyone comes into the world knowing everything there is to know,â Mr. Tango warned, âand I donât care much for you insulting someone you hardly know.â
Mr. Tango said it with a threatening, low tone that made Purple reconsider and apologize for his meanness.Â
Almost. He might have, had Gold kept his mouth shut.
âThey managed to knock the tree down in one hit even when doing it wrong!â Gold bragged. âI bet you canât do that!â
Inadvertently, Gold managed to hit a sore point for Purple. Orchid and Navy both were prolific fighters in their prime, strong and agile enough to break wood and cinder blocks with a well placed hit. Purple knew it could be done, but he was never strong enough, never fast enough to do it. All he got was painful bruising and a sprain so awful he gave up trying.
And given today, Purpleâs fuse was short.
âYou little liar,â Purple snapped, âno one can do that.â
âIâm not!â Gold balked, and he tugged on Mr. Tangoâs arm. âDad, you saw it too! Tell him! Second did punch a tree down!â
But there was a split second of hesitation in Mr. Tangoâs gaze, that moment of doubt and skepticism. Before he had the chance to defend his son, Purple pounced.
âIf your dad claims that, then heâs helping a liar,â Purple said, âI thought preschool taught you better than to make up stories for attention.â
âIâm not! Iâm not! Iâm not!â Gold yelled, and Purple saw that the child was so worked up that tears were forming in his eyes. âIâm not a liar!â
âWhat is your problem?â Mr. Tango snapped, standing up tall to get between Gold and Purple. He didnât yell like Purple did, but clearly didnât hide his anger. âYou have no right to talk to my son like that.â
âMaybe if you didnât want me to yell at your liar of a kid,â Purple snapped, standing back up, âthen you should have parented better.â
âExcuse me?â
Purple stood up. He was a pipsqueak to the massive stick figure before him, his limbs shaking from fear and rage both.Â
âIâm just saying, a kid who broke his wrist punching trees and one that makes up tall tales to strangers reflects poorly on you.â Purple said, âMy parents wouldnât hear me spouting such nonsense.â
âWhere are they?â Mr. Tango asked, grinning without any joy. âI would like to talk with them about their parenting skills if they could raise someone whoâd yell at children for little reason.â
To that Purple had no response.
Oh creator, what would mom think of me right now? Purple thought, visibly deflating and stared at the ground in shame.
Now the only sound there was the clocks ticking and Gold crying. Seeing no fight left in Purple, Mr. Tango sat down and started to console his child. Gold buried his head in his fatherâs chest, weeping and insisting he wasnât a liar.
Creak
âPurple?â A nurse came in with a clipboard.Â
âYes?â Purple straightened himself up. âIs she ready?â
âShe is,â the nurse nodded, his expression appearing grim despite his smile. âShe wants to talk to you.â
Oh, good sheâs awake, Purple thought, but still⌠the dread in his stomach grew. Why is the nurse looking at me like that if sheâs awake?
âOkay. Take me to her.â
He followed the nurse out, ignoring the pressing glares of Mr. Tango and Gold following him out.
=
âRapid aging syndrome?â
Purple sat by Orchidâs beside, holding her hand. Orchid was looking rather pale and frail, but she was alive. The doctors managed to stabilize her.
But only stabilize;Â there was no cure for this condition.
âYes,â Orchid said, âExplains a lot of things, like why I didnât have the same stamina as your father even though weâre the same age.â
She said it with light airiness that nearly made Purple cry.
âBut, this is a glitch in your programming, right?â Purple said, clearing his throat, âcouldnât they patch you?â
To that Orchid let out a shaky sigh and patted Purpleâs hand. Purple noticed the faint tremor in her hands.
âThey found out that they canât,â Orchid said, plainly.
âWhy not,â Purple asked, voice rising. âTheyâre doctors! Expert coders! They have to fix you! What sort of doctors would they be if they couldnât?â
âItâs not that simple, honey,â Orchid hushed, âThey discovered that my codeâs corrupted. The fact they could stabilize me without losing my memories was a miracle in it of itself.â
âSurely, thereâs a way around corruption,â Purple begged, âYou mean to tell me they canât stop you from just⌠aging to death?â
Orchid didnât say anything at first. She looked up at the ceiling with an inscrutable expression. In that moment, Purple wondered how well she was taking the news that she was given a terrible death sentence, aging at an insanely rapid rate until she shriveled up to a husk. Looking at her now, all the marks Purple blamed on exhaustion or loss of appetite were the tell-tale signs of becoming an elder.
âThe doctors gave me two choices,â Orchid said after a moment, âEither I would have 5 months left to live, or they would reset me.â She then turned to Purple. âAnd reset means full reset. My age, all of my memories⌠I would be as I was created, as my 18 year old self. I wouldnât even recognize you as my son anymore. Even with that, I could still be⌠lost to a reset. There is no guarantee to save me.â Her expression turned pained. âYou know which one I had to choose.â
âThatâs so f-messed up,â Purple caught himself. But he wished he could swear. How could anyone sugarcoat that?
âThe doctors will want to discuss care options in light of my condition,â Orchid said, âhaving nurses to care for me at home, or placing me in hospice care.â
âBut we donât have the money for a live-in nurse,â Purple pointed out quietly.Â
Orchid hummed in agreement. âAnd I donât want to be moved to hospice care if I can still stand and walk.âÂ
âI could care for you,â Purple offered. âTake off school for a bit-â
âI donât want to place you in that position,â Orchid waved her hand, âand your education would suffer for it.â
âMom, Iâll be blunt, my education has already suffered from⌠Navy leaving.â Purple couldnât even say the divorce to her, âI wonât be able to focus on shoring up whatâs left of my education knowing that your⌠that you're going toâŚâ
He couldnât say that either. He shanât say it, or else he made it true. He didnât want it to be true.
âFair pointâŚâ Orchid muttered. She placed her hand on her chin and hummed. âThere is always my creator,â Orchid paused, âI still have her email address, and I occasionally send her updates. We could stay with her for a while.â
âAn actual human? With a desktop?â Purple asked. âIs it even possible for us to go there?â
Orchid nodded. âIâm certain something can be arranged once I reach out to my lawyer and get my affairs in order.â
âDonât say that, mom,â Purple shook his head.
âIâm afraid we donât have many options,â Orchid said, âPlus, it would be nice to take you to our childhood home.â
Our? Purple thought, You mean, dad also grew up on that computer?
Purple wasnât sure about going on a humanâs computer with all the risks, but like Orchid said, it wasnât like there was any better options they could take.
Iâll find something to save you from this fate, mom, he thought, I promise.
Purple kept this vow deep in his heart as the doctors returned.
=
Her name was Alana, and, despite his mom promising to take him to her childhood home, she clearly owned the latest Apple Macintosh. Alana was nice, nicer than what Purple expected of a human from his history class, and she welcomed Orchid and Purple upon their arrival through her email. They had to write out words on the email in order to communicate with her, but Purple learned he didnât need to talk with Alana often. She was present for the first two days to ensure they settled on the desktop, before just disappearing and leaving them to their own devices for days on end.
Orchid explained most of the situation to Alana. She wasnât fully candid about her diagnosis, but she shared that Purple was her and Navyâs son, and that they needed a place to stay in the meantime.
Alana asked only one question. âWhat happened to Navy?â
The awkward silence and body language from both Orchid and Purple told enough for Alana to discern something happened, but she didnât feel the need to press.
Living on a desktop was a new experience, one Orchid was happy to guide Purple on.
âAh, they updated so many things!â Orchid said in awe, âYouâre getting a better experience than I did. The desktop is so lovely!â
She leaned down to press a button. It was the finder, and it opened up a series of apps. However, she let out a groan of pain as she struggled to stand back up.
âCareful!â Purple said, lifting her up, âyou know you canât move like you used to.â
Orchid looked forlornly at what she opened, rubbing her back. Stacks of icons stretched above her without any easy way to traverse them.
âRight. Climbing would be your strong suit, you have to do that a lot on a desktop,â she said, half muttering as the advice she gave came with a realization of her condition. That her body was too old to navigate something that she had done in her youth.
Purple had to watch her as that condition worsened overtime.
Not that Purple was idle during this time. He set to work making the desktop space more accommodating for an elder. He found Flash and constructed a crude house with the pencil tool. The linework wasnât the neatest, but it was convenient, light enough for him to pick up the house and set it down, but sturdy enough that a punch wouldnât knock it down.
He tried looking around for Orchid and Navyâs files. After all, if they were made, then that means there had to be backup copies somewhere around. Surely, Alana transferred their files to the new computer, there had to be something to counter the apparent corruption.
âPurple, please donât be going into Alanaâs files,â Orchid warned.
Purple nearly fell off the top of the directory, not expecting to hear her voice. It started to croak with age, a tremor of strain she didnât use to have. She leaned on a crude cane Purple drew to help support herself. He hastily went down so she didnât have to call him.
âIâm not doing anything shady,â Purple insisted, âI was hoping to find⌠something.â
Orchid gave him a look. A look he knew too well when she suspected Purple was up to one of his antics. He received that look a lot whenever the school called about his moments of less-than-stellar behavior.Â
But as quickly as it appeared, it fell. âLook, Iâm just warning you, if you poke around in her files and break it, she will be incredibly upset and hurt by that,â she chuckled lightly, âIâm speaking from experience here. Navy and I regretted how we clowned around back in the day.â
You? A trouble maker? Purple couldnât help but smirk at the idea of Orchid, roughly around his age, causing trouble for her creator. But the smirk faded when that image contrasted the frail stick figure before him.Â
âWhy did Alana⌠make the both of you?â Purple asked.
Orchid blinked, not expecting the question. She fiddled with her cane, nails gently scraping against its side.
âI donât know. Flash animation was new and there was a genre of animation that featured fighting stick figures beginning to form. I supposed Alana wanted to add a battle couple, but I couldnât be certain.âÂ
Purpleâs face curled at the thought. âLike she made you two to be a couple?â
âNot like that, she made us to be a team,â Orchidâs smile looked forlorn and she looked elsewhere, âthe love came later.â
Purple shuffled awkwardly, knowing how that âloveâ ended for them all. âWhy did you two leave the computer?â
âStick City was new, and we both wanted to strike it on our own,â Orchid explained, âwe wanted to be famous, and we didnât feel like we could if we stayed on a desktop.â She let out a huff. âHow funny that I ended up back here after all this time.â
âItâs not.â
âWell, Purple, Iâd rather you not go poking around and getting into trouble.â Orchid placed her hand on Purpleâs shoulder. âCome. I can show you some games on the Mac you can play in the meantime.â
âGames?â
âYes, I know I canât play the ones that are more active, but I donât want that to stop you from experiencing the fun you can have on a desktop,â she said, âitâs way more immersive.â
Purple opened his mouth to argue something, before closing it and nodding.
I really canât go against her wishes now, Purple thought, besides, there are healing items in games, maybe I can find something to fix her?
âWhat do you recommend I try, mom?â he asked.
Time moved too quickly for Purpleâs liking. He did as much as he could in his investigation of the games on Alanaâs computer. Some of the games were fun, but ultimately useless to his main goal. Others had healing items he had to buy from a vendor or could collect in chests. He gave these to Orchid, yet the most they did was ease her aching joints.
He found Minecraft through his investigation and it, too, had healing items that didnât work. Yet, the game was fun, intriguing enough for even Orchid to join in on the fun. He found himself simply just building things with Orchid out of the simple blocks provided in creative mode. They began to build a foundation of a castle, but in time, only Purple was able to build the castle. When that happened, he abandoned construction to refocus his efforts in finding a cure.
Orchid was visibly getting older and weaker every passing day. She walked slower, leaned on her cane more often, and complained of pain in her bones. Vision and hearing were going, and Purple had to draw her glasses and hearing aides to help her.
Nothing was working. He tried experimenting with healing items he found: mixing it into her food, combining it with other mechanics, and even breaking into a gameâs code to see if there was anything he could pull. All his efforts did was ease the burdens of aging. He could not cure nor save Orchid from her fate.
Eventually, Orchid became too weak to even leave her bed. Purple was torn between wanting to stay by her side and care for her or leaving to find something he possibly overlooked. He settled for spawning a villager from an egg to be her nurse while he stepped away. But walking away was difficult; he felt every hour he was away was the hour he came back to find herâŚ
He came crawling back with nothing to show for it.
âIs there anything in your game that can stop this?â Purple asked the villager, one night after he returned. âTo stop her from dying?â
The villager looked around, unsure if Purple was genuinely engaging with them or speaking out loud to himself. When Purple remained silent, the villager felt like they needed to respond.
 âI donât know,â they admitted, âI havenât heard of anything like that.â
âYou do realize you donât age, right?â Purple continued. âYou and every video game character are just frozen, as you are. You donât have to worry about growing old, leaving your kids and loved ones behind...â
âThatâs notâŚâ the villager trailed off when he met Purpleâs cold stare. âItâs not that simple..â
âSeems pretty simple to me. You, a computer program, live on, while us stick figures, also computer programs, grow old and die. How unfair is that?â Purple muttered. âI ask again. Is there anything in this stupid game that can make her ageless like you?â
The villager shook his head and took a step back. Something was in Purpleâs voice that deeply frightened the sniveling NPC. And for a moment, Purple thought of pulling out his sword and stabbing the villager for his unhelpfulness.Â
After all they were only ageless, not immortal. Weak.
He walked away from the villager, but those horrid thoughts followed him.Â
=
âWhatâs happening to Orchid?â
Alana logged on to find her desktop disheveled: a half finished castle from Minecraft, a crude house with a crude bed where Orchid lay in it. She must look so bad that even a human could see it on the screen.
Purple stayed by her side, unable to sleep, and stared blankly at the writing above him. He dared not grab the pen he used to write, he didnât want to get up and leave his motherâs side.
It had been five months. Her time was almost up, and all his efforts to stop it amounted to nothing.Â
The cursor moved down and Purple placed himself between it and his mother.
âDonât!â he said, splaying his hand out. He knew Alana couldnât hear, but he spoke anyway. âSheâs very fragile.â
âIs that Alana?â Orchid croaked.
Her feeble, weak voice broke Purpleâs heart to hear. Her glasses were off to the side, but she didnât reach for them.Â
âYes, itâs her.âÂ
âAh, I'm glad,â Orchid said, âI worried⌠I wouldnât be able to say goodbye.â
âNo, no mom, you donât have to,â Purple said, clinging to her hands. âThere- Iâm still searching for a cure- I can-â
âShh,â Orchid placed her hand on his cheek, stilling him. âNo, Purple, honey. My time is up. And I donât want to see you wasting your time searching for a cure that doesnât exist.â
âBut I canât give up, not now,â Purple shook his head. Her face began to blur and hot tears streaked down his face. âI donât want you to leave me. Stay here. Please.â
âI donât want to go, either,â Orchid coughed, âI want to be with you⌠but I donât want you to suffer for my sake.â
She wiped his tears with her shaking, wrinkled hands. A pointless endeavor, for Purple could not stop sobbing.
âIâm sorry, mom,â Purple choked, holding her hand.
âYou have nothing to be sorry for, Purple,â Orchid said. Her hand slackened to her side and eyes closed. âPromise me something, Purple?â
âWhat?â Purple leaned in. âWhat do you need me to do?â
There was a beat of silence, just the raspy rise and fall of her chest.
âPromise me that you'llâŚâ Orchid whispered so faintly, every word laborious. âPromise me youâll⌠take good care of yourself⌠that youâll find someone-â She broke off into coughing.
âHush, hush. Of course, of course I will.â Purple said and hugged Orchid. âI promise.â
Orchid didnât return the hug, too weak to do so.
âI love you,â she wheezed.
Then, she let out a shuddering gasp and fell limp within his arms.Â
âMom?â Purple pried away, staring at her gaunt face, eyes closed. He saw that she was becoming translucent, fading away like a spirit.
 âMom? PleaseâŚâ
Then there was nothing, just him clinging to the blankets. All that Orchid was became nothing now. Not a trace of her was left, except her scent and his memories.
And with that he wept openly into the empty bed while Alana wordlessly hovered above.
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