What if...
...Jonny at some point left, finding himself on a small asteroid. Backwater, some may call it.
What if at some point he had sustained an injury, perhaps to the eye.
What if he opened a bar, tempting fate for that fight he knew would end him. A bar that grew in size, until it was a casino as well.
What if he became known in this community, the establishment being known for its cards, for its one eyed owner with a name that started with a J. Was it James? Jack?
What if he met a young man at this bar, a man he knew. All at once he knew what he had to do.
What if he sent this young man, this boy out to do some tasks for him. Paying off his father's debts, Jonny tells this boy.
What if the boy returns one day with a coldness in his eye and a ticking in his heart. Jonny tells him it's for the best, parroting the words he was told so long ago.
What if he understands, all those centuries ago, the words said to him. It was for the best, for those lifetimes of adventure, for his crew, his family.
What if the boy can't see it in this moment. It dosen't matter anymore, Jonny's already played his part. He is shot, not that the bullet would kill him, not yet.
What if the bar burns around him, a falling piece of wooden beam peircing his heart. He can feel it in his bones, this is it.
What if, in his last moment, Jonny smells the smoke and thinks of Ashes. Remembers Tim as the smoke stings his eyes. Wonders if this lightness within him is what Raphaella felt when flying.
What if Jonny laughs, anger and joy and sorrow and humor and disbelif and relief all rolled into one. This backwater asteroid, where Jonny Vangelis D'ville ends his tale.
A backwater asterioid.
His beginning, and his end, all in the very same moment.
What if?
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curtain call
The Mechanisms are uncharacteristically quiet as they walk off the stage. Even Jonny doesn’t know what to say as the remaining eight space pirates file into the dressing room of the venue they booked for their last ever show on Earth.
The first one to break the silence is the Toy Soldier who sniffles, gasps tremulously, and then wails, “Is all that really going to happen? With the—the black holes and the bar fights and the octokittens and everything?”
Jonny stifles a groan. This is exactly why he’d locked it out in the first place. What’s going to happen is what’s going to happen, and they all might as well accept it.
To make matters worse, the Toy Soldier’s sniffling has set off some of the more sensitive Mechanisms. Ivy pats it on the shoulder with a forlorn look, eyes glassy with unshed tears, and Marius’ fragile expression suggests that if Ivy starts crying, he’ll follow suit.
Tim has his arm around Ashes’ waist, as if worried they might disappear, and though his metal eyes betray no sadness, the firm set of his mouth worries Jonny more than anything else.
“The odds of us changing the future now that it’s been written are over three hundred million to one,” Ivy says sadly. “It’s statistically impossible that we will live forever.”
“B-b-but we have so many more songs left to sing!” the Toy Soldier weeps. “Tales to tell! Wars to wage!”
“And we will,” Jonny says shortly. “None of us are instantly about to keel over, are we?”
“N-no?” the Toy Soldier says.
“Everyone seems in decent health to me,” Marius says quietly. He holds Ivy’s hand in both of his.
“So don’t worry about it,” Jonny says.
“That’s easy for you to say,” Marius says. “You’re not dying for another millennia. I could get eaten by octokittens tomorrow.”
Jonny’s stomach twists, and he wrenches his mouth open to retort, but someone interrupts him.
“No,” Raphaella says sharply. “You will not. We know for a fact that we each die alone. I’m not letting you out of my sight, and you’re certainly not going to check on the octokittens any time soon. I’m planning to have Ivy feed them when we arrive back at the ship.”
“It’s not the same now that I know they eat Marius,” Ivy sniffles.
Marius’s expression shatters. “Don’t hold it against them, Ivy! They’re just hungry! They can’t help it! Don’t be sad!” he pleads.
Jonny feels sick as Ivy starts to cry harder, expounding on the hunting habits of felines, which only makes Marius more upset. He throws himself into a chair and starts taking his makeup off with a wet wipe, trying and failing to ignore them as Raphaella attempts to comfort them both.
“You’re being awfully callous about all this,” Tim says, still with one arm around a stony-faced Ashes. Brian and the Toy Soldier have joined the fray, and Brian’s platitudes about everything coming to an end in time are almost as unhelpful as the Toy Soldier’s weeping and wailing.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jonny snaps.
“Well, you could at least pretend to be sad like the rest of us,” Tim says. “I know you’re all excited to die, but that doesn’t mean the rest of us are.”
“God damn it, Tim,” Jonny snaps, throwing the wet wipe on the floor. “You think I’m not sad?”
“You’re not acting like it,” Tim replies. “Marius had a point. You’ve got a run-up and a death you’re looking forward to. Ashes here could go at any time.”
“Hey, babe, don’t bring me into this,” Ashes mumbles.
“Am I wrong?” Tim says.
“Yeah, you fucking are wrong!” Jonny shouts. “You think I want to die alone in some backwater asteroid bar centuries after the rest of you are gone? Yeah, I’m excited to die, but that doesn’t mean I want to watch the rest of you disappear first!”
The rest of the dressing room falls quiet, and Jonny realizes belatedly that he was shouting. Worse, he feels tears in his eyes, and he scrubs at them angrily, smearing the remains of his face paint.
“Oh,” Gunpowder Tim says. “I guess I didn’t think about that.”
“You choose how you go out,” Jonny says. “I have to wait until it finally decides to fucking stick. You know how many times I’ve been stabbed in the heart? I could go start a barfight on an asteroid tomorrow, but I guarantee it won’t stick.”
“All the same,” Tim says quietly. “I’d prefer you didn’t risk it.”
“And I’d prefer you wore your fucking seatbelt, but we don’t get to choose, now do we?” Jonny says.
Tim flinches, and Ashes frowns at Jonny who takes a deep, shuddering breath.
“I—I mean. I don’t want you to die either,” he says. “But we have to die s-sooner or later. And I don’t want to waste whatever time we have left crying about it.”
Despite this, tears are dripping from his eyes as he speaks, flowing faster than he can scrub them away. No one says another for a long moment, but he feels the eyes of several of his crewmates on him.
“C’mere, you mean ol’ bastard,” Ashes says. They spread the arm not curled around Tim’s waist and gesture for him to approach.
“What?” Jonny says, standing up and shuffling closer.
Ashes crushes him to their chest in a one-armed hug, and Jonny breaks and grabs both Ashes and Tim as best he can. Before he can recover, he feels someone else wrap their arms around him from behind, and before he can protest, he’s at the center of a tangled mass of weeping space pirates—colloquially known as a group hug.
It’s awkward with so much metal and wood and weapons, but Jonny can’t even pretend to be annoyed by it. He’s too focused on not breaking down into sobs. He’ll be damned if he lets his crew see him cry anymore than they already have.
“I love you all very much,” the Toy Soldier says happily. “Best space pirate crew ever.”
Jonny rolls his eyes and sobs silently. Hopefully, buried as he is in a mass of bodies, no one will notice.
“Well, now that that’s been dealt with,” DrumBot Brian says, “I would like to return to the Aurora. I am concerned our parking pass has expired.”
Jonny sighs. “Fine, but you stay away from the damn airlock.”
“Your concern is touching and noted,” says the DrumBot.
The Mechanisms disperse and hurriedly gather up their things. Jonny lovingly coils up his microphone and tucks it safely away, and the band of space pirates begin to make their way back to the Aurora and off to destinations unknown.
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