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bookandcranny · 3 years

Text

Shortwave Radio

Why he decided to leave behind a perfectly good astral cluster and go sight-seeing on a spinning ball of dirt in this great cosmic nothing of a solar system is a mystery to the entire family, but it’s been almost ten years now and so they’ve all had no choice but to conclude that he’s not coming back any time soon.

The right thing to do is to support him in it, so says tender-hearted big brother Hercules, and if that means jumping through a few hoops to attend some strange human ceremony in this hot and lifeless wasteland, then that’s simply what they’ll do.

summary: Five siblings from the stars come to earth by invitation of their estranged little brother, who’s only request to them is that they take a road trip across the American southwest and try to learn to see this planet the way he sees it.

content warnings: dysfunctional families, carsickness, strong language, fear of abandonment, and accidental misgendering of a nonbinary character

length: about 7k words

also, have a playlist!

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On a particularly sticky day in late July, a black minivan rolls up outside Gruber’s Convenience somewhere in the vague liminal world of the i-110 out of El Paso. Shimmering like a mirage the vehicle comes to a stop and five figures shuffle into the station. Working the counter is a greasy-faced teenager who calls himself Benj, though according to his nametag he’s Benjamin until the end of his shift.

If he weren’t intentionally ignoring the group that just walked in, resenting the loss of quiet and the cool air that just escaped with the chime of the door, Benj would notice a few things about them. For one thing, while they all look quite different, all five of them are wearing the exact same clothes: pale blue t-shirt, gray jeans, plain white sneakers, not a toe scuffed or sullied by the dust they kicked up coming in. They’re perfectly inconspicuous outfits, but too new, too deliberate in their banality.

The people in the clothes have much the same effect. They’re collections of ordinary, aesthetically pleasing parts assembled as if at random, almost uncanny at the wrong angle. Not supermodel pretty, but perhaps stock photo passable. One of them keeps touching things. Just, touching them. He trails his fingers over snack cakes and little pouches of corn nuts with an unreadable expression. Three of them are clustered together in front of the drinks fridge speaking in hushed tones.

The last one of the bunch is hovering in the corner making eyes at the shop’s resident mascot, Garfield, an uncreatively named tabby cat who’s taken to sleeping on a box underneath the AC unit. The cashier does notice her (he thinks she’s a her) if only because she’s kind of cute, in a straight-laced camp counselor kinda way. He’s already building up an idea of her in his head, every atom of it more false than he realizes.

The Christine or Sydney or whoever reaches down and gives the cat a poke, which turns into an experimental stroke.

“Mrph?” says Garfield, like cats do.

“Mrph?” parrots the... Liz maybe? No, not quite, he thinks. Garfield blinks at her, yawns. She withdraws, looking half offended by his indifference.

“Don’t take it personal,” Benj says. “He’s not very social.”

She looks at him for the first time and he reevaluates his earlier assessment. Eyes too pale, too far apart-- not ugly per se but definitely not worth the possible write-up he’d get for flirting with a customer.

“He’s the owner’s cat,” he babbles, scratching his chin and looking anywhere but at her. “Or so they say. Honestly I think he just showed up here one day and no one could get him to leave.”

Before she can reply, one of her matching buddies comes up to the register and dumps an assortment of snacks onto the counter. It’s a baffling, eclectic pile, but like any good retail worker Benj has long since learned not to examine anything too closely.

“Road trip, huh? Where are you guys headed?”

The radio behind the counter has gone all staticky. He fiddles with the antenna.

“Visiting family,” says snacks guy. His voice is soft and monotonous, a stark contrast as the guy’s built like a US SEAL.

Benj looks from face to face. “All of you?” He’s having a hard time believing any two of them are related.

He nods, once. A stiff, decisive shake of the head. The crackling of the radio is getting worse. Benj turns it off.

“Will that be everything, sir?”

Another nod.

“Herc, wait!” One of the man’s supposed relatives comes up behind him and shakes him by the shoulders. “Hercules, look at this.”

He slams a book down on the counter, one of the cheap paperbacks Gruber’s pedals between the condoms and the first-aid kit stuffings. The cover reads, “The Chest from The West” and features a heavily airbrushed model in a cowboy hat and unbuttoned flannel shirt.

“What am I looking at?” Herc asks.

“Get this too. I want to read it.”

“Why?”

He opens his mouth but whatever he’s about to say, Benj doesn’t really want to be present for it. He quickly scans the book and throws it cover-side-down into the bag. Let them work this one out on their own, hopefully somewhere else.

“Your total’s $29.75” He spins around to shake the radio, which is somehow now back on and blaring louder. When he turns back, the register is telling him everything’s been bought and paid for. Guy must be lightning quick with a credit card, he thinks.

“Huh. Guess you’re all set, man-- sir.” He hands them their bags. “Have fun at your family thing.”

He flashes the big guy a thumbs up. He looks strangely staggered by the gesture and replies haltingly, “Thank you. You also, have fun.”

“Come on, sibs,” the more energetic one chirps. “Cass? Cass, come on.” He drags his sister away from the cat, who’s just starting to warm up to her. “That’s you, remember? Let’s go.”

They don’t get any gas from the pumps outside. Benj is pretty sure he saw the testy looking one with the ponytail shoplift a bottle of off-brand cola, but he isn’t paid nearly enough to care. At least after they’re gone the radio starts working normally again.

Hercules drives, though it’s not so much driving as sitting in the driver’s seat and telling the van to go. Earth machines are simplistic and easy to manipulate. Slow though. Cass is riding “shotgun”, as is apparently customary for the navigator. Andromeda, Zeta, and Camelopardalis share the backseat, where the formermost is rehashing the same tired debate with the latter.

“We need to work out a better earth name for you,” he insists. “Myself, I’ve been doing some research and I’m thinking about going by ‘Andy’ from now on.”

“I’m not calling you that,” says Zeta.

Camelopardalis asks, “What’s wrong with the name I have?”

“It is a bit long,” Cassiopeia agrees. “A shorter one would help you fit in better.”

“Speaking of fitting in, something else has been bothering me. What’s your gender supposed to be?”

“My what?”

“You know, your gender. We all picked one.”

“It’s almost like you didn’t read the brief,” Zeta says, instigator that she is.

“It’s almost like none of you read the brief, that I took the time to write specifically to help you all acclimate to earth culture.”

“Zeta, don’t upset Cass,” Herc scolds.

“I’m not upset.” She turns in her seat to stare pointedly out the window. There isn’t much to look at, just miles upon miles of rolling desert interrupted by the occasional billboard or truck stop, all crawling by at a snail’s pace compared to the sort of travel they’re used to. Not that she’d recognize the analogy. She misses the cat.

Camelopardalis fiddles with their seatbelt. “Which one are you again?”

“I’m a ‘man’,” Andromeda recites. “Earth men are known for their physical prowess and carnivorous diet, they live in cave environments, and often congregate in packs called ‘fraternities’.” He waves the gas-station novel in the air. “I’m going to research their habits and perfect my persona. By the time I’m done with this I’ll practically be a local.”

“I don’t know… Zeta, what made you decide to be the other one?”

“Flipped a coin.”

“Women,” Cass informs them. “Can be most commonly identified by their long hair, fastidious hygiene habits, the use of traditional face paints to accentuate the eyes and lips, and by fleshy protrusions of the upper torso. Any of these traits can indicate an earth woman, though none are necessarily required.”

They throw up their hands. “How is that helpful at all then! Zeta?”

“What do you want me to do about it? I didn’t invent them. Hercules, are you sure these ‘snacks’ are safe to eat? They have a strange texture.”

“If you don’t like it, don’t eat it.” He punctuates the point by reaching back and grabbing a cream-filled cupcake off the pile. He tears the plastic with his teeth and eats half of it in a single bite. He barely tastes the thing, but he’s hoping if his siblings follow his lead their mouths will be too full to whine at him.

“Yeah, Zeta, don’t be a bitch.” Andromeda opens a pack of mini donuts, albeit more gingerly, and pops one into his mouth.

Cass whips her head around. “Where did you learn that word?”

He holds open the paperback and points to a page.

Austin hesitated. “I’ve never ridden a horse before. What if I fall?”

Derek chuckled manfully. “Don’t be a bitch, city boy,” he teased. Then he placed his large, calloused hand upon the small of Austin’s back. He leaned in and whispered, “Don’t worry, I won’t ever let you fall.”

The navigator leans over the center console and tries to snatch the book away but he dodges swiftly, clutching it to his chest.

“That’s foul language, Andromeda Alpheratz.”

“Earthers use this kind of speech with each other all the time. It’s a sign of familiarity and affection. You guys need to be less formal if you want to blend in.”

“If it’s meant to be an insult,” Camelopardalis wonders. “Why would they use it to convey affection.”

“Because they’re brutish, unevolved lifeforms,” Zeta sneers. “‘Blend in, blend in’. The rest of you can worry about blending in with the apes. I’m only doing this for Perseus.”

“We’re all doing this for Percy,” Hercules says in a chastising voice that makes even Zeta shrink down in her seat. “So can we please agree to be somewhat civil and not make this trip more painful than it needs to be?”

There’s a murmur of general agreement and peace is restored, however temporarily. Camelopardalis clears their throat.

“I still don’t really understand why we couldn’t land directly at Perseus Nine’s coordinates.”

Cass huffs, blowing a dark curl out of her face. “For the last time, Percy specifically requested we partake in the human ritual of the ‘road-trip’ for this last portion of our journey. It’s the same route he traveled the first time he came to earth, and apparently holds some sort of sentimental significance. It’s important to him we experience the same pilgrimage. For some reason.”

She adds the last part under her breath, knowing full well the others will still hear her. They can hear one another when separated by countless miles of empty space, their voices resonating from star to star, clear as a bell. Compared to that, the close proximity of a rented minivan is stifling. There’s an uncomfortable intimacy to it, these crudely assembled physical forms pressed together, bloated and heavy with all the trappings of humanity. Sweat and road dust and gravity cling to Cass like an over-warm coat and she longs for the cool estrangement that comes so easily in the void of space. It’s tough to be a star-dweller away from her star.

“The reasons don’t matter,” Herc declares, and his word is as good as law here. He is the eldest of them, though the concept of seniority is abstracted somewhat by the literal millennia they’ve all lived through.

Percy is the baby, as well as the black sheep of the family, so to speak. (His actual moniker among their kinfolk roughly translates to “the dissonant note”, a scathing insult for those who knew what it meant.) Why he decided to leave behind a perfectly good astral cluster and go sight-seeing on a spinning ball of dirt in this great cosmic nothing of a solar system is a mystery to the entire family, but it’s been almost ten years now and so they’ve all had no choice but to conclude that he’s not coming back any time soon.

“At least we can check one more stop off the list,” Zeta quips. “What’s next?”

Cass checks her itinerary. “We are to visit one national historic landmark, one ‘tourist trap’-- whatever that means-- followed by a stop at ‘Diane’s Diner’, home of the world’s best pie. After that, we can head straight to the meet-up location.” She glances at the clock on the dashboard. “We’re a little behind schedule but we should make it right on time as long as there are no unexpected delays.”

An hour and a half of driving later, Andromeda throws up corn chips and mini donuts all over the back of Herc’s seat.

They pull over on the side of the road. The desert sand is just beginning to give way to sparse yellow grass, brittle from the sun. Herc steadies Andromeda, looking viscerally displeased as he finishes emptying out his recently manifested stomach.

Camelopardalis frets through the whole episode. “We’ve all been eating the same food, except for Zeta. If it’s poisonous, one of us will be next.”

“It’s not poison, it’s carsickness,” Cass sighs. “Honestly, I’m starting to think none of you even looked at the brief.”

“Zeta, look in the back for something to clean up with.”

“Why me?”

“We’re going to lose so much time…”

“Would you rather hold him?”

Andromeda retches.

“Do you think Percy would care if we skipped a couple stops?”

“Cassiopeia Sigma,” Hercules begins sternly.

“Alright, alright. I’ll figure something out.”

Fortunately they’ve happened to stop within walking distance of something called The Trinity Site, according to the map. Camelopardalis and Cass go ahead to check another stop off the list while Zeta and Herc clean up the van and make sure Andromeda isn’t actually dying. (How embarrassing, to be a quasi-immortal astral being only to perish at the hands of a tainted twinkie.)

They wander from the roadside, following the map and occasional signposts, and shortly find themselves standing in front of an ominous looking stone obelisk with a bronze placard affixed to one side.

Trinity Site: Where the world’s first nuclear device was exploded on July 16th, 1945

There’s more but Cass stops reading. Camelopardalis asks her to explain what the plaque means by nuclear device-- they’re familiar with nuclear power as a concept, fission and fusion, ideas not far departed from the system of energy exchange that sustains their natural bodies in the heart of their stars-- but goes pale when she goes into the relevant applications of said devices.

“Wonderful,” she grumbles to herself as she snaps a few photos of the monument with a disposable camera. “I’m sure Percy will be thrilled.”

“Excuse me.”

The pair turn to see a man in a colorful button-up and khakis and a woman with a day-old sunburn peeling off beneath the straps of her tank top.

“Boy are we happy t’see the two of yous. Couldja take our picture real quick?”

The woman holds out a camera, a significantly more professional piece of equipment than the one Cass is holding.

“Oh, sure,” Cass replies. She’s nervous as she takes it from her hands. She’s never encountered this sub-species of human in her research before, and finds it difficult to parse the woman’s peculiar dialect. Both of them are smiling, but they’re also showing a lot more teeth (and a fair bit of gum) than she thinks is normal. A subtle threat?

Nevertheless, she fumbles with the camera for a moment before managing to take a decent snapshot. The man wraps an arm around his wife’s waist and she slots herself in against his side.

“Ope, wait, let’s do a silly one to send to Marsha and the kids. Were my eyes closed? No? Perfect, you’re a doll. We’ll leave you kids alone now.”

“Sure,” she says again, feeling out of pace.

“My nephew wears his hair like that,” the man says without segway. He’s talking to Camelopardalis, they realize. “It’s very… hip.”

They touch their hair. They hadn’t given it much thought before, might not ever have if he hadn’t pointed it out. It’s nice, they think.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

His expression flinches into a puzzled frown. Cass smacks their arm.

“Sir! Thank you, sir.”

After they’ve walked away Cass gives him another jab for good measure.

“His hair was longer than the other one’s,” they complain. “And the chest was sort of fleshy. How was I supposed to know?”

“We’re lucky you didn’t cause an incident. Earthers carry weapons in this part of the world.”

They rub their arm. “I don’t know, they seemed nice.”

Still they give a fleeting glance at the plaque behind them and argue no more.

They return to the van, now blessedly puke-free. Andromeda is looking better too. They all pile in and almost immediately Camelopardalis misses the freedom of being able to move without touching somebody. It may be their imagination, but the car seems to be moving slower than ever.

“How was it?” Zeta asks, despite her obvious disinterest.

“Uninspiring,” is Cass’ reply.

The other nods and doesn’t force her to elaborate. “I wish I knew what Perseus intended for us with this… chore list.”

“It’s not important, we just do it.”

Herc is always a steady presence, but even he is starting to sound annoyed with repeating himself. Zeta, of course, can’t leave well enough alone.

“If we just knew what he wanted us to do or say we could do it and go back to how we were before.”

Cass snaps. “Maybe you should stop complaining and make an effort for once.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

The car erupts into a heated four-way argument. Only Hercules resolutely abstains from comment, though his hands tighten into fists on the steering wheel. The fight doesn’t end in resolution so much as exhaustion. Everyone’s too miserable to keep hurling accusations and insults for the next hundred miles, and at length they lapse back into tense silence.

Zeta rests her head against the window, taking the arythmic rattle into herself, breathing it out in silent, frenetic melodies. She dislikes fighting with her siblings, no matter what they might claim to the contrary. It doesn’t happen often, or didn’t, but things have been different since Percy left home. The littlest star-child had a natural soothing presence to him, one that she’d long taken for granted. Earth is so noisy, she thinks. She strains to listen but she can’t hear a trace of him anywhere.

She tries to imagine what he’d say, if he were here.

“What are we even doing?”

Probably not that, but she already has everyone’s attention now so she figures she might as well keep going.

“I mean, we’re still behind schedule, we can’t stop bickering, Andromeda can’t even eat right apparently, and I’m pretty sure half of us didn’t even look at Cassiopeia’s brief.”

“Are you getting to a point?” Cass asks irritably.

“I’m just saying we’re all… bitches.”

“Zeta!”

“Get comfortable with it! We’re all bad at this. Me, you, all of us. So can we just stop blaming each other and have a truce in the interest of getting this over with?”

Cass opens her mouth, then lets it fall shut, sinking back into her seat. For a moment it seems they’re heading for another long awkward silence, when Andromeda sits up and points out the window with a sudden urgency.

“Look!”

Herc slows down and they see a billboard lit up in eerie green neon light, directing them to the next off-ramp.

Must see attraction! Visit the one of a kind Ancient Aliens Exhibit!

The star-folk look at one another.

“Is this what they call a tourist trap?”

“It seems likely.”

Andromeda is glowing-- in a very literal sense-- with excitement. “It’s an exhibit about us.”

“‘Ancient’? Speak for yourself, I’m still only in my six-thousands.”

Needless to say, they do stop at the roadside museum. Cass takes pictures aplenty and, to her surprise, actually enjoys it. Andromeda is disappointed to find there isn’t actually a display dedicated to their kind. Instead there are a lot of grainy photos of some squat, bug-eyed species called “greys” and diagrams of the Egyptian pyramids for some reason. He gets over it by the time they get to the gift shop.

By unanimous decision, they do not buy anymore snacks, though Zeta’s eye does linger on a cooler in the corner advertising “the ice cream of the future!”. Herc does however buy a number of souvenirs. (Rather, he convinces the automated register to record a purchase that didn’t technically take place, and bumps up the number in the bank account of one very nice tour guide while he’s at it.)

They leave with a mood ring, a handful of polished stones in a small velvet bag, a “gravity defying” purple yo-yo shaped like a UFO, and Camelopardalis sheepishly lays claim to a friendly looking martian figurine with bendable limbs. Overall, spirits are much higher by the time they make it back to the van.

“Hercules,” his meek younger sibling ventures. “Could I try driving? I’ve been curious about it.”

Feeling generous and more than a little tired of staring out at the road for hours at a time, he agrees. He shows Camelopardalis the basics and makes sure they know how not to veer off the road or into other drivers and then he climbs into the middle backseat and stretches out his arms so the siblings on either side of him can tuck in against him and rest. Eventually even the diligent navigator Cassiopeia begins to doze. It’s been a long day and none of them are quite accustomed to the burden of having earthbound bodies.

When Andromeda wakes up the first thing he registers is that it’s getting dark, the day reduced to a slim red band sinking over the horizon. The second thing is the yelling.

“What do you mean you don’t know!”

“I thought I could read the map myself--”

“What about you, navigator? What were you doing?”

“--didn’t mean to--”

“As if you’re one to talk! I can’t believe--”

“--and you were the one who--”

“Shut up!”

Hercules’ normally subdued baritone booms through the van. The windshield wipers begin swinging as if in indignation, while the passengers wince and cover their ears. Andromeda can’t remember a time when his brother’s frequency had felt so violent. The shivering resonance it leaves behind makes his teeth ache.

There’s a pregnant pause, then Cass slams open the door and begins to pace.

“Shit!” she yells at the empty air. They’re parked in a field somewhere, no sign of life save for the buzzing of insects and the rumble of a train somewhere off in the distance. Cass kicks at the ground and screams again. “Shit fuck bitch hell! We are so fucking lost! And so fucking late!”

Andromeda winces again and gets out to try and calm her. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“It is not! We’re probably missing the ceremony right now. Percy will never forgive me for this.”

“It wasn’t your fault…”

“I’m supposed to be the navigator!”

“Well, yes, but…” The words come out strangled. He touches his chest and realizes he’s breathing rapidly. His eyes are beginning to water as well. “I should’ve… I didn’t…”

Zeta hurries over to him. “What’s wrong? Are you going to be sick again?”

Without warning he doubles over and begins bawling.

“Hercules, do something! Something’s wrong with him!”

“Don’t… don’t… don’t…” he gasps and stammers.

Herc clutches his brother. “Don’t what? Talk to me.”

“Don’t fight,” he finally chokes out. “I don’t want to lose anybody else.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Percy,” he sniffles miserably. “He doesn’t care about us anymore. He has earth now, and all his new earth friends, and we can’t even do this one thing for him. It’s my fault. I knew he hated when I called him a dissonant note and made fun of his earth music but I did it anyway. Now he probably hates me and all of us and this whole thing has been for nothing.”

The eldest braces his arms on Andromeda’s slumped shoulders. “Percy doesn’t hate us. He invited us here because he wanted to see us.”

“Herc’s right, Andromeda. Percy doesn’t have it in him to hate anyone.”

“It’s not easy, but he chose this. He chose earth. We have to respect that.”

Zeta grumbles, “And just what is so special about this stupid planet anyway?”

“It has cats,” Cassiopeia says quietly. Her sister glares but she stays firm. “Well it does. And… people.”

“Strange, silly earth people,” Camelopardalis adds, nervously fussing with their hair. “Confusing and contradictory and fascinating.”

“People who hurt each other for no good reason.”

“People who are kind for no good reason too.”

Andromeda wipes phosphorous tears from his eyes and takes out the rumpled gas-station paperback. “In this book Austin leaves his job as a big city lawyer to follow the cowboy he’s in love with.”

“You think Perseus traveled to earth for cowboy love?”

“It’s a possibility!”

Cass scoffs. “I honestly don’t think he was thinking that far ahead. You know Percy. He probably crash-landed without any plan whatsoever. Or, he probably thought he knew what he was doing, and then when he actually got there he was terrified. And then he probably didn’t want to say anything because he was afraid his siblings would think less of him once they realized he was actually just as clueless about earth stuff as they were. That would probably be really, really stressful for him.”

“Are we still talking about Percy?”

She makes a wordless noise of frustration and kicks up another patch of grass.

Andromeda puts an arm around her. “If… Percy was worried about that, I’d tell her-- him! I’d tell him that he shouldn’t be, because there’s nothing he could do that would make us stop believing in him.”

She exhales. “Thanks.”

“I was talking about you, Cass,” he whispers. “It’s you I believe in.”

“Thank you, I got that.”

“I just… miss him, I guess.”

Herc hums in agreement. “Barely a millennium old and he’s already grown up and gone completely terrestrial. This past century has been the longest of my existence.”

“Hercules, it’s only been ten years.”

That news causes him to make such a face that Zeta starts laughing. It’s the first time she’s so much as cracked a smile the entire trip.

“So… what do we do now?” Camelopardalis asks.

After a moment, Cass grabs the map off the dashboard and holds it open.

“A little more light please?”

They step up behind her and hold a glowing hand over the paper. Her brow creases in concentration.

“Alright, I think we’re somewhere around here,” She gestures. “And we need to be here. There’s no way we’re going to show up on time, but we can still show up. We owe him that much.”

They get in their seats, Herc back at the helm, and begin trying to reclaim the distance they lost with the unplanned detour. Cass breathes a sigh of relief when road signs start to reappear. A driver honks at them as they pick up speed and Herc steers closer and makes their radio start playing at top volume. Zeta opens the window and a cool night breeze tickles her skin. The stars are bright and beautiful above them, and looking up, suddenly home doesn’t feel so far away.

All at once they slow to a near stop.

“What’s going on? Why are we stopping?”

“Traffic,” Herc says like it’s a curse. “Looks like there was an accident.”

“Take this exit,” Cass commands. “We can cut through the next town and get ahead of it.”

So he does and soon they find themselves driving through the quiet streets of Kismet, Nevada. That is, quiet until Zeta catches sight of something out the window and yells, “Pull over!”

“What! What is it now!”

She points, and they see. The sign ahead reads, “Diane’s Diner: Home of the World’s Best Pie”. They pull in so fast they nearly end up colliding with a stout aproned woman who’s pushing a teetering hand cart across the lot.

“What do you maniacs think you’re doing?” she demands as they clambour out of the van.

“I’m very sorry, ma’am,” Cass says in a rush. “It is just very important to my siblings and I that we get to this establishment.”

The woman huffs. “You’re a mite late then, I’m afraid. We��re closing up early tonight. Got a big catering order I have to deliver.”

Herc asks, “Are you Diane, of the diner?”

She laughs. “Close. I’m Maddie Finkle of the diner. Diane’s my mother’s name. It’s a family business. But what brings you folks here looking for Diane at this time of night? I don’t think I’ve seen your faces around town before, and I always remember a customer.”

“Do you remember a customer named Percy? It would’ve been years ago, but this place was very important to him. He’s our brother.”

Maddie’s eyes light up. “Why didn’t you say so! Of course I know Percy. And if you rowdy lot are his siblings, then I’ve got a message for you.”

“A message?” Percy hadn’t said anything to them about a message. Maybe this was his way of ensuring they actually made it to the last stop on his list.

“Well, sort of. Come, come, help me load up all this grub and I’ll tell you everything.”

Herc and Zeta go to either side of her and help push the wobbly cart to a truck with the diner’s logo emblazoned on the side. As they load the boxes, Maddie speaks.

“I first met your Percy when I was just a waitress, mama still working the kitchen. One day this kid walks in, looking as lost as can be, comes straight up to the counter and tells me he’s just fallen from outer space and could use some assistance.” She barks a laugh. “I didn’t go for the whole alien thing but that second part was a lot more believable. He looked a mess. I asked if he needed something to eat but he just said he needed a safe place to rest for a moment. He’d been on his feet all day, walking and hitchhiking his way clear across the desert.

“Of course I wanted to know where he was going that was so important, but he said he didn’t know for sure yet. Said he was following a melody, a song he’d heard from very far away that had drawn him to this place. I told him I couldn’t help him there. The only music we had in the diner was this old stereo system mama had put in when she first opened the place and it was long broken. Mama was too sentimental to get rid of the old thing and the repairman couldn’t do anything for it so broken it stayed.

“He asked me to show him so I did, figuring it couldn’t hurt anything. Then that kid walked up to the busted speaker and just like that it started playing again like it was new. I told him, ‘For that, I owe you more than a place to rest your legs. Stay in town for a while, let us put you up and get you back on your feet, or at least let me drive you to the train station so you can get where you’re going.’ But he refused, and before long he was gone again.

“Then, not a couple days later, spaceboy comes back traveling with this other kid, heading in the opposite direction. I ask him what happened and he says he was going one way but he changed his mind and turned around. He leans in like he’s sharing a great big secret, like we’ve been friends all our lives, and says, ‘I found it, Maddie. I found the song.’ Weirdest kid I’ve ever met! But they make a cute couple, him and that boy, and they’re some of my best customers to this day.”

They finish packing up the truck, Maddie leaning leisurely against the fender as she reminisces. Herc frowns, confused.

“Was that the message?”

“Yup.” She pops the P. “He just told me to tell you the story. Not sure why. I mean, it’s a good story, I think. But you already know all about it, right? You’re his family after all.”

“No, he never told us,” he admits softly.

“Huh. Weird. But then, he’s kind of a weird kid, yeah? I always wondered, is it all you aliens who talk in riddles like that, or just him?”

“I thought you said you didn’t believe his claims.”

“I didn’t the first time, but if your Percy’s one thing it’s… Perc-istent.” When no one laughs, she pushes onward. “Well, that’s all of it. We’d better get a move on, huh?”

“‘We’?”

“Sure, aren’t you folks on your way to Percy’s place too? I figured you’d be staying over, and I gotta get everything set up for the wedding tomorrow.”

A palpable shock ripples through the star-folk. “Tomorrow?”

“‘Course, what did you think all this was for?” She pats the truck. “I wanted to get everything ready ahead of time so we’re good to go in the morning. It’s not easy being the caterer and providing my lovely self as a guest on the same day, but I couldn’t let those sweet boys down.”

Andromeda slumps over, leaning on Herc for support. “Percy told us the wedding was tonight.”

The chef raises an eyebrow. “Sounds like someone’s been having a little fun with you. Nah, they’re doing some sort of get-together tonight since neither one of the bachelors wanted a bachelor party, but the actual wedding ceremony’s definitely not until tomorrow.”

“I’m going to end him,” Cass mutters under her breath.

“Hurry up now,” she says. “I’m sure the groom-to-be’s expecting you.”

The five follow Maddie’s truck away from the main drags, away from the buildings, the scenery becoming gradually greener as the road turns from asphalt to gravel. At last they find themselves pulling up in front of the house that Percy has come to call home. It’s a raised ranch, flanked by evergreens and patchwork plots of small white and yellow flowers that Percy’s fiance must have planted, and a tower of plastic chairs and tables covered by a tarp.

It’s a nice place, large and somewhat secluded, set apart from the noise of traffic or threat of nosy human neighbors. Percy’s sensitive to loud noise and, after all, still an alien living in secret amongst humanity. Yet as they get out and follow the caterer where she’s cutting around back through the garden, they’re struck by the sounds of laughter and music and lively chatter.

A group of earthers are gathered on the patio, smiling faces lit by a string of twinkling lights. A man with a guitar strums along with the music coming from inside.

“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” Andromeda whispers.

“You think there’s a second Perseus Nine about to be married in this town?” Cass shoots back.

Zeta hisses, “Quiet, I can hear him.”

To his surprise, Herc can too. Above the noise, laced into everything he touches, there is a resonance, his baby brother’s unique personal frequency. To describe it as sound alone would perhaps be inaccurate; it’s a vibration, an echo. Percy is everywhere in this place: his whispers and his shouts, his twinkling laugh, but also the part of him that no human being can detect, the part of him that is still, and will always be, of the stars.

He must sense them too, because in that moment he appears standing in the doorway, bathed in its yellow light. His face breaks out in a glowing grin and he runs to greet them, bolting like a comet being pulled into his siblings’ orbit.

“You made it!” he exclaims.

Zeta snorts and allows him to throw his arms around her. “No thanks to you and your list of demands.”

“You brat,” Cass accuses. “You told us the ceremony was tonight.”

Percy tilts his head to look at her, his expression not half as guilty as it should be. For a moment she reels at the sight of him; the body he’s constructed for himself has aged since the last time they crossed paths. It’s subtle, the way his dimples have deepened into true laugh lines, and his hair has grown ever longer, though it also isn’t as tangled as she remembers. He is still himself, underneath, the light of his true being faintly visible beneath the skin.

“I was worried if I told you the real date you wouldn’t make it in time. You’re not used to traveling the human way. It can be messy.”

She grimaces. “You’re not wrong.”

“You’re actually here way earlier than I thought you’d be.” His smile falters, only slightly. “This is… everyone?”

Herc swallows. “The others…” he begins, but quickly finds he doesn’t have the words that should follow.

“Well, it’s not like I had enough chairs for all two-hundred-ninety-seven of them anyway.” He reaches out and squeezes his brothers tightly. “Hercules, Andromeda, It’s so wonderful to see you. Camelopardalis, Cassiopeia, it means so much to me that you came. I know it probably wasn’t easy. Zeta…”

She scoffs. “The only hard part was putting up with these bitches.”

Hercules interjects, “We shouldn’t keep you from your party. Go on, I need to get some things from the van.”

“You didn’t bring presents, did you?”

“It’s customary for weddings, is it not?”

Percy grins. “You’re becoming a real expert on earth customs.”

He shrugs and looks at Cass. “I just read the brief.”

Percy invites his family in, along with Maddie, who is perfectly tickled by the siblings’ awkward affection. After helping her bring in the food, Percy beckons over the man with the guitar.

“Adam!”

The man looks up. He has a boyish, freckled face and a head of dark curls that spill over his brow. He sets down the instrument and comes to slot himself against Percy’s side, thoughtlessly, as if that was always where he was meant to be.

“I’d like to formally introduce you to my fiance, Adam. And Adam, this is my family.”

His smile broadens. “Hey, great to finally really meet you guys. Percy talks about you all the time. Did you have a long trip?”

They look at one another for a moment until finally Herc shrugs and says, “Only about twenty-five trillion miles, give or take.”

The happy couple linger for a moment longer, sharing stories and talking about honeymoon plans. Adam is especially thrilled when Andromeda and Zeta begin to co-narrate an embarrassing tale from Percy’s childhood in the Alpha Persei Cluster. Eventually though the pair wander off together, leaving the star-folk to their most harrowing challenge yet: mingling.

“Sorry, what did you say your name was?”

“Camelopardalis.”

The guest, one of the couple’s mutual friends, goes a bit bug-eyed. “Wow, okay, that’s really cool. Kind of a mouthful though. Got a nickname?”

“Nick… name?”

“Like, something that your friends call you for short. My friends call me Dee, but my highschool nickname was Dent.” They point to a scar on the side of their head, just above their left ear. Their fair hair is buzzed short, making it easy to see. “Long story. What if for now I called you ‘Cam’?”

They consider it. “I think I’d like that.”

“Cool, nice to meet you, Cam.”

“Nice to meet you, Dee.” They hesitate. “Would you say you’re a man or a woman?”

Dee frowns.

“Nevermind! I’m so sorry, I just don’t understand the earth gender binary at all. Everything about it just seems so arbitrary and senseless.”

Oddly enough, their new friend perks back up at this.

“Honestly, same,” they laugh.

Andromeda joins shortly, having struck up a conversation with Dee’s partner who is deeply intrigued by his review of “The Chest from The West”. The three of them spend a while swapping book recommendations. Meanwhile, Zeta gets hit on by a slightly intoxicated young woman with an undercut and an eyebrow ring, although the star-dweller vastly misinterprets her none-too-subtle questioning about alien biology. Cass meets Adam and Percy’s pet dog, Chowder, and deems him as good a companion as the convenience store cat.

Herc catches Percy alone in the kitchen and the two have a long overdue talk. It’s clumsy but earnest, and when Herc mumbles something out about possible future family visits, Percy throws himself into his brother with such vigor that he momentarily forgets about gravity and starts to float off the ground.

“I’m sorry too, by the way, for the whole thing with the list,” he sighs. “It probably seems pretty stupid, I just kind of hoped I could get you to see this world the way I see it. Full of life and love and adventure.”

“And music,” he finishes, catching the way his gaze flits back to the patio. To Adam, singing softly and dancing with one of their friends.

He nods. “I thought maybe then you’d understand why this is so important to me.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to see earth the way you do,” Hercules confesses. “But I don’t think it was stupid of you to try either, and I don’t think it was for nothing.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the mood ring. The friendly prismatic face of a cartoon alien glints up at him. Perseus takes the gift with an understanding chuckle and slips it onto his pinky finger.

“No, not for nothing.”

Tomorrow, there will be a wedding. Percy and Adam will stand in front of their friends and family and exchange their vows. Adam’s mother will complain about them not booking a proper venue for just short of an annoying amount of time, Maddie will bring out a ridiculously tall tier cake that will taste almost as good as one of her mother’s pies, and for once Percy will not be the worst one on the dance floor.

Tomorrow, there will be a bright silver band around Percy’s fourth finger, neighbored by a smaller ring in the shape of an inside joke, and with all the weight of a promise.

#aliens #original fiction #writeblr #short story #original writing #road trip #me? posting my writing again? its more likely than u think #lgbt #my writing

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meliecho · 6 years

Text

Hearts and Heroes: One Shot - Chpt 4 - The Nightmare’s Truth

Summary: The team figures out exactly why this nightmare is different, and realize with dread that they only have one shot to save Sun.

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The Glen...

The glow of the bulb disappeared into the wide hollow opening of a broad multistory building, igniting the interior for a second before its bearer carried it out of sight.

Sections of pixelating squares fluctuated into view to their left and right as the group hurried to catch up. They were appearing more and more often.

A sharp, quick scream jolted them from continuing forward. A large cluster of squares danced around an object within its center. A single small hand reached out in desperation.

“Hey!” Blue stopped. “Someone's in there!” She rushed through the black clovers and skid to a halt close to the squares.

“Blue, she's getting away!” Red argued. “Dammit,” he cursed. He and the others followed.

“Help!” a high pitched voice resonated from within. The sound carried its own distortion. A girl covered in blue feathers with matching eyes blinked up at them.

“She's not a Terrorling,” Mark said. “She's must be part of this world.” He leaned forward for a closer look, and his eyes widened. “She must be an ego of sun's.”

“This is an ego? I didn't know they existed outside the hub.” They'd never met any outside of the Markihub that they could recall.

“Some of them do,” he explained. “Mostly what we encounter are NPC elements of the dreams, or Terrorlings. Egos like to live in stable places.”

“This nightmare is anything but stable,” Purple noted.

“Why would one be in a dream? Those don't last long enough,” Red wondered aloud.

Mark stayed silent. He remembered what Tiny Box Tim said about the mission briefing file, but voicing it would only worry his team. Besides, he was 70% sure it was a typo—a drop from his 100% shoulder-brush confidence back at the hub.

“If this is part of Sun, we gotta help her.” Blue examined the anomaly, then extended her hammer. “Grab on. We'll pull you out.”

The little girl gripped the handle tightly.

Blue pulled hard on her weapon. She felt Jade's arms wrap around her waist to add strength. The girl refused to budge. Her tiny hands began to slip.

Mark took hold of the handle close to Blue's hands and pulled. It took the efforts of all three until finally the child slipped free of the squares. The three of them fell backwards.

She curled up on the ground, crying in pain. Lacerations criss-crossed all over her body, and her feathers were shredded. Yet her clothes weren't stained with blood. “My...brother...” she muttered. “He was...with me. Is he ok?” She tried to get her knees, but collapsed.

Peach's face fell in sadness and she knelt to rest her hand on the girl's head. “You were the only one in those squares. If he was in there... I'm...I'm sorry.”

The girl's eyes shimmered with tears. “No...No, he tried to save me,” she sniffled and gripped the hem of Blue's dress in her fist. “Brother,” her voice gave in to a weak sob.

Blue leaned over to hug her. This was her world, and her family. Whatever happened here affected her as strongly as events in the real world impacted them. Even though she was an ego, she and all the others here –if there were any others—took on forms to fit this dream. Whatever the case, the pain of losing her brother to that area of corruption was real.

Red gently scooped her up into his arms. “We can't leave her here,” he glance down to her. She barely weight more than a toddler. “What's your name?”

“Alula.”

Blue stood. “Let's follow where Sun went. Maybe we'll find a safe place for Alula to rest.”

The group moved quickly through the firefly-speckled field to the building. However, their way in was guarded by a robot a full story tall, and the width of a bus.

Its deep bass voice reverberated through the ground. “[GREETINGS PERSONS. SIGN IN IF YOU WISH TO PASS TO THE REFUGE.]”

“Would love to,” Mark shrugged. “Do you have a pen?”

“[I LOANED MINE TO THE BRINGER OF THE SUN. THEY WERE IN A HURRY AND DID NOT RETURN IT. PERHAPS YOU CAN FIND ANOTHER PEN.”]

“Here,” the girl painfully fished an item out of her coat pocket and handed it over. It emitted a soft yellow glow. “It's a feather. It's for the one who'll return our sun,” her breath hitched. “I had to go home to get it. My brother and I were trying to find her when those squares showed up. If you're her friends, then please give it to her. The sacred book says she'll need it.” It nearly slipped from her fingers as she curled up in a small squeak.

Mark caught it before it could hit the ground. He dabbed the tip of it on his finger, leaving behind a drop of black ink. Quickly, he scribbled down all of their names before the ink ran out, and added the item to his inventory.

The gargantuan guard robot's eyes scanned the page, then moved aside. “[YOU MAY PROCEED. THANK YOU.]”

“Take this,” Purple offered a full heart to the girl. It absorbed into her body and spread out beneath her skin in a brief red glow. The lacerations began to heal.

“Can you watch her until she's better?” Blue craned her neck upward at the robot.

“[IT IS NOT IN MY PROGRAMMING, BUT I WILL GUARD HER. SHE IS NOT AUTHORIZED TO ENTER.]”

Red laid her gently on the soft moss.

“Good...luck.” Alula waved lightly. She watched them give her sympathetic looks before they entered the dark building. Alone at the foot of the giant robot, she cried. The moss absorbed her tears.

A somber sense tailed the group through the dim halls barely lit by patches of green phosphor harvested from the trees. Purple's magic returned enough for her to safely create the white ball of light atop her staff again, and regained her position at the front. They all kept their eyes and ears pealed for sounds of Terrorling attacks.

They went up multiple flights of stairs and zig-zagged through corridors. Jade opened a door to the left and they stepped out onto a railing-less veranda overlooking the Glen—because that's safe engineering. A red haze dyed the horizon in a sinister airbrushed filter between black spires dotted with crimson lights. That was the Refuge—the city.

In the center of it, reaching so high up into the solid black they couldn't see the top, soared a windowless obelisk. It sliced through the haze like a knife. Only its silver base reflected the red glow of the city.

“The tower,” Blue's voice lowered. “That's where she's going.”

“Whoa, man. That thing is huge,” Jade's jaw dropped.

“That's what she said,” Mark folded his arms.

“Heheh, Nice,” Jade high fived his friend.

Red smacked him upside the head.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“Everything.”

“Guys, come on,” Peach interrupted.

“Whelp, it's a pretty view, but we've got an objective to complete,” Mark gestured toward his shorter friend, “Lead the way, Purple.”

With her as their headlight, the group rushed through the corridors.

The crackling of static cut through the air. They spun at once. Directly behind them formed enough black squares to completely block the hall.

“Run!” Blue cried out.

“Whoa, whoa, hey, whoa. These don't chase you,” Mark calmed her down. “I remember this. They're stationary.”

Another one formed a foot ahead of it, forcing them to step back. Followed by another.

“But they can multiply,” Blue's hair would have stood on end. “Again...Run!”

Cluster after cluster of glitch squares materialized in their wake, each producing a static jolt that speared its energy through them. They ran as fast as they could up a long flight of stairs, turned a sharp corner, and sprinted down the hall.

“They're right on our asses!” Mark yelled. “Go! Go!”

A thread-thin rectangular outline of red light bled in through a door frame at the end of the extremely long corridor. Thankfully, it was unlocked. They barged through it and slammed the door shut behind them. The whole group took a few steps back as the door became overcome by squares. Everything beyond that door had succumbed to the destruction of this world.

“That,” Peach panted, leaning on her staff to catch her breath, “was too close. Way too close.”

Blue looked to the door. “I guess we can't go back that way.”

“Good thing we're not,” Red said.

Without the sun, the only light source stretching through the city came from the bright red water filling the canals far beneath them.

Their shoes clinked on the grating of the metal open-air skywalk. It wasn't very wide, maybe enough to hold two people side by side at best.

The walkways were void of life. “Where is everyone?” Purple's nervousness shown through. “It's like a ghost town.”

Red phosphor lamps flickered in the windows—and indication of life—but they didn't pass the foot traffic expected of in a city. Sun's hero mark didn't glow brightly, so there was only so much her mind could create.

“This is a dream,” Mark began. “I wouldn't expect it to be a thriving metropolis with a coffee house on every corner.”

They passed by a few robots that ignored them to continue their tasks.

And the end of a walk in front of a close door, sat a robot splayed out on the ground completely surrounded by the particle squares. Its arms and legs phased in and out of view. “[P#L.EAS;E DO N//T APPR#ACH.]”

“It's completely glitched out,” Peach frowned. Whatever happened to Alula was happening to this robot. Thankfully, it was a machine without the ability to sense the pain of being erased.

There was no way to save it. They had to call it a loss. Regretfully, the group turned back and took another route.

“Down there!” Jade pointed to the walkways several stories below them at a shadowy figure running with the light bulb. “I see her! She's heading for that building!”

“How the hell did she get so far ahead?” Red looked over.

“She's not alone,” Blue leaned over the railing and watched a cluster of macabre creatures lurching after her. “Terrorlings,” she cursed the word. “We need a way down. I remember there being an elevator in the game around here somewhere.”

“You mean the one that didn't work until you made a button out of a coffee can and fridge magnets?” Peach said.

“That's the one. This is a dream, so we might get lucky.”

The crew wove along the catwalks, turning back when they encountered squares or parts of the walks that had broken off as if deleted. They reached the elevator shaft within minutes.

A boy in a gray flat cap bounced on the balls of his feet. “Come on, come on,” he mumbled. Tufts of black hair stuck out from beneath the hat.

“Hey kid,” Mark got the others attention. “Did you see a girl with a light bulb come through here?”

“Yeah,” he said in a gruff, irritated tone. He had to be about 12 years old. “The doors closed just as I got here. Now I have to wait for it to come back. Stupid idiot wouldn't even hold the door.”

Red rapidly pressed the button with impatience.

“That doesn't work, you know,” Jade folded their arms.

“Your face doesn't work, you know,” He shot back.

“That didn't even make sense.”

“I do that, too, with crosswalk lights,” Purple offered. “It doesn't help, but it's cathartic.”

A few minutes later, the door opened and everyone shuffled inside. The doors closed smoothly, and the elevator descended at an easy pace.

The light acoustic guitar and xylophone muzak filled the car with its tinny AM radio sound from two small speakers in the ceiling in a complete dichotomy to their pressing situation. Apparently, the engineer had never heard of bass boost.

Everyone tensed in the uncomfortable, awkward silence. They could fight together, be in a boat on the ocean together, and hang out in the hub before missions together, and yet the power of an elevator and muzak was enough to invoke the curse of the cramped, inescapable box of discomfort. They all fidgeted.

“Kind of a long ride to the surface, huh,” Purple softly broke the thick atmosphere.

Mark silenced her quickly holding up his index finger in front of her face. “Not a peep! Markiplier demands silence!”

Blue chuckled. She remembered that part of his play-through. Every time Niko got in the elevator, Mark shouted, 'Not a word out of you, Niko. Your God demands silence!'

Peach, Purple, and Red got the reference and joined in, however Jade hadn't watched that series and looked completely lost. “What the fuck, Mark?”

The kid stared wide-eyed at Mark.

“It's a joke,” Blue nudged Jade in the shoulder. “Don't worry about it.

“So, uh--” Peach spoke up. “This voice Sun said she hears. That should be the player, but this is a dream. Maybe it's the Entity? The one that helped the player, but it's talking to her because there is no player?”

“What are you guys talking about?” The kid demanded.

“Uh,” Blue smiled too wide and waved her hand in the air. “Nothing, it's nothing.” She whispered sidelong to Peach. “Ixnay on the eemdray in front of the idkay.”

Mark leaned in with one hand cupped around his mouth. “Best not to start ripping interdimentional holes in the mind of a child.”

“Hm,” The kid harrumped. “You guys are weird.”

“Yeah, we get that a lot,” his answer slid in like butter.

No one spoke for the rest of the elevator ride.

The doors slid open on the surface, and they stepped out onto the pavement. Canals of water imbued with glowing red phosphor flowed lazily to either side of walking path. Buildings and pathways created a maze of metal and concrete, like the city was built on a massive lake. Just like with the upper levels, the lack of foot traffic worried them, as did the presence of multiple clusters of squares.

“Well, that was awkward. See ya,” the kid rushed away from the group of strange strangers as fast as he could.

“I guess he was another aspect of Sun,” Peach guessed.

“That voice—the Entity—can't be a Somni,” Red surmised, picking up the original conversation, “which means it's a Terrorling taking on that form. Like how Dark took on yours,” he looked to Mark, who frowned at that memory.

His jaw locked around his realization. “Then it's a part of herself. And it's powerful.”

Blue glanced back to her team. “She might not even know what'll happen if she puts that bulb back.”

“Or maybe she does,” Peach's tone turned melancholy.

“That's the building!” Jade broke into a run down an adjacent metal industrial-style foot bridge across a canal and jumped the short set of steps. They readied their blades for a fight with the group of Terrorlings. If they were gathered out here waiting, that meant Sun was still inside.

Compared to earlier, it was a group of six Shadowlings and Proxies that the team took out with minimal damage, and only one person becoming confused. Purple used her powers on Red to remove the curse. Only a robot remained, shuffling back and forth in place as though it didn't even notice the battle.

Everyone entered the building except for Mark, who lingered just long enough to ask the robot a quick question. He rejoined the group before they'd realized he was gone.

It was a typical library – books stacks up to the ceiling on rows and rows of shelves set on half levels reachable by steps. Beanbag chairs and tables dotted the area for anyone to flop into to enjoy their read. Tall, slim windows to either side let the crimson glow of the city bleed inside to cast everything in its watercolor hue. The smell of book-binding glue and age permeated the air.

At the top of the third half-level, set patiently behind a wide U-shaped desk, sat a robot wearing a pair of thick framed glasses. A wide stairwell disappeared into the darkness of the upper floor behind it. The robot stared straight at the newcomers.

“[GREEINGS. HOW MAY I ASSIST YOU?]” it said in a programmed nasally voice, clearly enabling a nerd stereotype.

“We're looking for someone carrying a light—“ Blue stopped herself, “the sun. Have you seen her?”

“[AFFIRMATIVE. THE HEAD LIBRARIAN IS SPEAKING TO THEM NOW.]”

“Thanks,” Blue lead her team around the desk, only to be halted by the robot's command.

“[STOP. YOU ARE NOT AUTHORIZED TO GO INTO THE ARCHIVES WITHOUT A LIBRARY CARD.]”

“Can't you let us through?” Peach asked.

“[I CANNOT GO AGAINST MY PROGRAMMING. I HAVE NOT BEEN TAMED. PRESENT A LIBRARY CARD FOR ACCESS TO THE ARCHIVES.]”

“But you let Sun go ahead!” Jade argued.

“[THE HEAD LIBRARIAN WAS HERE AT THE TIME AND ALLOWED IT.]”

“Son of a—We don't have time for this.” Red pushed through and reached for his sword.

Mark clasped his hand over his to stop him. “Slow your roll, Red. We have no idea how volatile the NPCs in her dream could be trying to protect her.”

“So what do you expect us to do? Just wait out here for her to come back?”

“Yup,” Mark answered in confidence. “Her goal is the tower. We'll cut her off here.”

Red scowled, but uncurled his fist.

The 'check-out' manifests on the robot's desk caught Mark's attention—or rather, the series of dates printed on each one. Either Sun's mind had an amazing ability for detail to add specific time periods to inconsequential items, or else these were actual dates she didn't have control over. He'd never seen that phenomenon before. Too many details in this nightmare weren't matching the criteria of a typical rescue. Sun seemed more like everyone else here—living at the mercy of this dream instead of being its creator.

Thankfully, they didn't have long to wait. A yellow glow emerged from the stairwell preceding its carrier.

“Sun!” Purple blurted out.

Sun stopped at the base of the stairs. “You again?” she muttered. “Just who are you? I've never seen you before in my life. Why are you following me?”

“Wait, you don't know who this is?” Red thumbed toward Mark.

“No, does it matter?”

“Your file showed up in our hub.”

“My—what? Look. Just leave me alone.”

“Sun, listen,” Blue stepped forward, but the robot's arm stretched out to block her. “We know that voice you're hearing is telling you to return the light bulb to the tower, but you can't listen to it. It's lying to you.”

She clutched the red scarf around her neck in her left hand, cradling the bulb in her right. “It's the only thing that's telling the truth. Please. I have to finish this. You guys don't understand what I've been through, I...” she moved quickly around the other side of the desk. “You're just strangers, just like everyone else. Don't follow me anymore.”

“Sun!” Peach reached out to grab her scarf, but her fingertips merely brushed it.

Sun hurried down the half levels and out of the library.

“Dammit, again?” Jade cursed. “Why does she keep doing that?”

“She can't get into the tower without all three pieces of the old sun,” Purple said. “She was probably here to get the third piece.”

“But she doesn't have all three,” Red looked to his teammate, who pulled up his inventory and removed the glowing feather.

Mark clutched the feather gently, but firmly in his left hand.

“Come on, we gotta hurry!” The group followed Blue swiftly to the door, but Mark trailed behind them slowly.

“Mark?” Purple met up with him in the middle of the carpeted central isle.

He didn't want to be right. Or more rather, he didn't want Tiny Box Tim to be right. “Dammit. I knew something was funky,” he hissed between his teeth. “Guys, I think this is worse than anything we've seen before.”

“Yeah, we know. This nightmare is screwing with us like it's real,” Blue said. “We just have to be more careful.”

“It's not just a nightmare.” Fear pulsed in his heart at his own words. If he voiced them aloud, then that meant the others would hear his theory, and with the amount of evidence that stacked up on this journey, and Tiny Box Tim's warning, he couldn't brush it aside anymore. His previous 100% assurances had lowered to 10%. and as he opened his mouth, it dropped to zero.

“I was hoping Tim was wrong, but it doesn't look like that now.” He swiped down with his index finger in the air at chest height, calling up his menu and tapped on the 'mission' information. The report that each of them were given appeared on the semi-transparent screen. “Look at the record date.”

Everyone peered at it closely.

Blue blinked in confusion, as did everyone else. “One year ago? But the day and month are the same. This is just a typo.”

“That's what I thought, too. But the more time we've spent here, and the people we've encountered beg to differ. Everything shows a wear of age. The letter at the Barrens, the robots, everyone knowing this world is falling apart. Even those squares seem like pieces of this place are disappearing.”

Mark took a deep breath. “This dream is affecting us like reality, because for Sun, it is reality—more-so than usual.” He gestured to the entrance behind them. “The robot outside those doors said he's been pacing in the same spot for three months. The papers on the nerd-bot's desk all have different time stamps for check-in and check-out dates, and their titles. That's not something that appeared in the game. It's native to this dream.” He locked his team in sight, throwing all joking to the side. “This isn't a typo. Time has actually been passing here.”

Words he never thought he'd utter in this world or the waking world forced from his lips. “Sun's been dreaming for one year.”

Purple's mouth slacked. “That's impossible. No one can do that. No one can survive.”

“Unless she's in a coma,” Red voiced what none of them wanted to.

Mark nodded.

“Fuck me,” Jade exhaled. “Then why One Shot?”

“Maybe it was the last Let's Play she saw?” Peach bit her lip. “Which might mean she doesn't know about the other endings. All she knows is the choice Mark had to make for Niko.”

“But she doesn't know who he is, so she wouldn't make that connection,” Blue spoke up.

“Didn't Niko have a choice to shatter the bulb or put it back?” Red explained. “Shattering it would send Niko home, but replacing the bulb would mean they were stuck here forever.”

“If she smashes the bulb, she might wake up, but...” to Blue, it didn't feel like Sun wanted to.

“Why didn't you tell us about this theory before?” Red snapped.

Mark understood the source of his anger, and he reciprocated that feeling. “Because I didn't have enough evidence to prove it before. I've never been inside the dream of a coma patient that I'm aware of. I'm kicking my own ass here, all right?” He was upset at himself for not realizing it earlier, and for not taking Tim's warning as seriously as he should have.

The memory of Teal's failed rescue assaulted Blue again. Her heart ached. Teal had accepted the darkness, refusing to be saved. They saw her at PAX, but haven't encountered her since. “No,” Blue grit her teeth. “Not again. I will not lose anyone else ever again!”

She burst through the library doors at top speed. Fueled by the powerful desire to save this girl who had lived in the dream world for one year. Jade caught up to her easily and the two chased down the glowing bulb toward the tower. The team followed close behind.

A cluster of particle corruption squares formed in a flash right in their way. The pathway beneath it dissolved. The squares were an involuntary response to Sun's stress and need to end this darkness, so it was destroying itself little by little over the past year in a self-destructive downward spiral.

“This way,” Blue lead the group to the left and around, linking back up with the original walk.

"I don't know where that Terrorling is, but I'm going to punch it in the dick," Mark scowled.

“Do they even have dicks?” she cast him a side-long glance.

“Time to find out.”

The massive tower's spire loomed like an ominous sleeping giant. Sun didn't make all the choices for the Solstice ending. This was Mark's ending. If she were able to enter the monolith, she'd be faced with two choices:

Replace the bulb and be forced to remain in this world...

Or smash the light bulb, ending this world and either waking up, or ending herself along with it.

If they failed here, they failed for good. They literally had only one shot to get this right.

------------

TBC

Prologue: A Light in the Darkness

Chapter 1: Weekend Warriors

Chapter 2: Something’s Suspishy

Chapter 3: Chasing the Sun

Chapter 4: The Nightmare’s Truth

Chapter 5: Light and Shadow

Chapter 6: Lifeline - part 1

Chapter 7: Lifeline - part 2

Chapter 8: Phantom Power

Chapter 9: Mark’s Past

Chapter 10: A Second Chance

Chapter 11: Learning to Breathe

Epilogue: Ad Infinitum

#hearts and heroes fanfiction #hearts and heroes #markiplier #the nightmares truth #sun #meliecho #one shot #things get pretty heavy #Red somehow became one of my favs #Moral of the story #listen to Tiny Box Tim #fanfiction #fanfic

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