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yikesharringrove · 3 years

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Agitation (or disturbance of the mind)

Here is my piece for the Harringrove Big Bang!! I’m so so proud of how this piece turned out and I’m so excited to share it! @harringrovebigbang

Read on Ao3 (highly recommended. It’s over 16k).

Special thanks to my beta readers @thinger-strang @crispysteve without whom this story would’ve been scrapped in many fits of emotions.

Art for this story to be linked soon by @thedogsled

Check out this amazing moodboard by @memes-saved-me !!

Enjoy!

Steve Harrington is a liar.

He always has been.

Nearly everything about him is a perfectly crafted facade.

From the story of his family’s move to Hawkins when he was eight, to the smile that slides easily onto his face when he tells Robin I’m fine.

Steve is a liar.

But it's all out of necessity. All for the greater of some good he isn’t all that clear on anymore.

It was always about protection.

Protecting his friends and everyone in Hawkins from the truth about Hawkins National Laboratory.

Then it was about protecting himself from his powers.

From the way his words had a knack of worming their way into someone’s brain. Of setting up shop inside and clanging around until they could do nothing but bow to his suggestion.

Just because he could get his way with the right inflection and the telltale shiver down his spine, didn’t mean that that was okay.

It was drilled into him the first night he arrived in Hawkins.

After his file was stamped with a large red mark that read defective, he was given to one of the scientists and her husband.

The Harringtons.

A normal new family from Eastern Oklahoma.

That’s what they told everyone.

That’s what they made sure Steve parroted to everyone in his brand new school.

His new father took a cigar to the tattoo on his wrist, welting the flesh with an ugly burn. He ignored Steve’s screams and tears.

You have to fit in here, Steven, he had said, the cigar smoldering between his fingers, Steve clutching his wrist, eyes shining with tears. You have to fit in and be normal.

So Steve lied.

He smiled and told everyone he came from a normal family from normal Oklahoma. He said that he lived in a normal house, and read normal books, and played normal sports.

And he tried, and failed, to convince himself the lab was a dream.

“We should do something after this.”

Steve was careful to keep his voice casual. He didn’t want to let Robin in on how much he was dreading returning to his empty house tonight.

Robin didn’t acknowledge him. She was sorting the returned movies, placing them in piles of genre so they could easily be returned to their proper section.

Steve quietly lifted his leg, and lightly kicked her hip.

She glared at him.

“Quit ignorin’ me. Just say yes, or no.” It’s not like if she said no it would crush him or anything. No. It’s fine.

“I just have a bunch of homework that’s all, like, due tomorrow,” she said it slowly, as though telling him a beloved relative had died.

Was it that obvious how lonely he is?

“Don’t worry about it, Buck.” Robin took school real serious. She had perfect grades every year and had already applied to sixteen colleges and universities, including four Ivy League options.

So Steve didn’t blame her for not skulking around with him.

With college-less, nowhere bound Steve.

“I’m really sorry,” she began, getting that sad look in her eye like that night in the mall bathroom when Steve spilled his drugged-out guts. Literally, and metaphorically.

“Nah, I was just lookin’ for something to do. It’s okay, Robin. Really.”

And it was.

Almost.

It’s just that, Steve’s not got a lot going for him right now.

He’s got a big empty house, and a brain that likes to give him excessive nightmares, and one age-appropriate friend in the whole place.

But he doesn’t wanna talk about all that shit.

And Robin looked like there was something on the tip of her tongue. Something her teeth were barely holding back.

So Steve just scooped up the stack of neatly ordered Action films, and made his way over to the far shelf, taking himself out of the situation before it would get to a place that would only make him lie more and more.

Robin means well. He knows she does.

It just feels like a lot of her well-meaning chats end up with Steve lying through his fucking teeth and Robin nearly in tears of frustration at his lack of openness with her.

She feels like being tortured and drugged together gives them a close kind of kinship very few share.

Steve feels like he’s got just too much fucked-up baggage to dump on her.

Not when they’re trying to put the Upside Down behind them.

Not that Steve could ever put it behind him.

He felt something build in his gut. Something hot and heavy. Something that always meant his powers were scraping at the walls of the neat little cave he had shut them in. Something that meant his skin would burn until he unleashed some of his pent-up energy.

He took a deep breath, blowing out the air slowly through his nose.

He had rules to his power. Rules he had given himself, mostly. Things he’d never use his powers for.

He tried to avoid his powers at all costs, but he had seen what could happen if he tried to tamp them down. It was less dangerous to open the lid of the box just a tiny bit.

Especially if he did it right.

He made his way back over to Robin, finding that spot in his brain that made a shudder zip down his spine. The spot that was made of cold and electric heat.

It was always too simple when he let the power take over.

Locate her feeling. Let him consume him.

And then just, twist it as much as he wants.

“Robin,” he spoke slowly, honing his suggestion. “You don’t have to feel bad about not spending time with me tonight.”

He felt her sadness and guilt about the evening recede about as fast as the tide.

She really shouldn’t feel bad about ditching him, especially not when her education is the main priority.

He matched her lazy grin, wiping his nose discreetly, only a small drop of blood smeared against his hand.

The rest of the shift passed without incident, and the roaring feeling in Steve’s gut had been sated enough for the time being.

So he pushed it back out of his mind, and returned to his empty house.

He was saving up to get his own place. He really was. But it was easier this way. He didn’t pay any bills, had lots of space to himself, and a pool in the backyard (that he never used).

And it’s hard for him to explain, but there’s something tugging him back into this house all the time.

He doesn’t know if it’s because it’s the only home he ever knew after the pain and fear that was his childhood in the lab, or if it’s something else that makes him feel tethered to the too-big house.

Sometimes he thought there was a sense of safety in the old place.

With parents that spent excessive amounts of time doing research for things he didn’t understand but was sure were important, it was largely an emotion-free place.

Which was good for Steve.

High emotion situations made his power boil up and spill over the edge like a pot of water on the stove.

A place like his empty house, he could keep everything in check. Not get his feelings tangled with those around him. Not catch thoughts that were just beginning to be molded into something brand new.

He clambered into bed, punching his pillows around in a way that was decidedly not petulant.

There was a steady silence in the old house. A silence that was as depressing as it was easy on his brain.

And there wasn’t silence.

Creaks.

Creaks issuing from downstairs. From the floorboards in the hallway.

Footsteps.

Steve was out of bed in a second, bat held aloft in as close to ready position as he could maintain while bolting down the stairs in his socks and faded green gym shorts.

He knew how to navigate the house without a sound. Practice of tip-toeing around a volatile not-father kinda ended up giving him something useful.

The creaks were still progressing, moving up the hallway from the back of the house, where his parents’ empty bedroom sat still.

The person was getting closer, lumbering slowly as if they were trying to be quiet themselves.

Steve adjusted his grip on the bat, taking proper batting stance, ready for the intruder to round the corner into his section of the hall.

First sign of a person, and Steve would swing.

No questions asked.

The floorboard before the bend in the hall gave a loud sound, and he could’ve sworn he heard someone curse under their breath.

He closed his eyes, and swung.

His bat sailed through the air, and connected with, not an intruder.

And then he was filled with an overwhelming sense of fear. A completely feral state of fight or flight made him nearly bare his teeth in an animalistic growl. He felt fear, and dread, and pure stubborn, stupid resolve.

It nearly blinded him, the emotions were so thick and clear.

And then there whooshed out of him, as though being sucked up by a feelings vacuum, leaving him empty and confused.

His top lip was covered in blood.

He had a lot of fucking questions as he stared at the bat, hanging by it’s long nails in the hallway wall, the ominous creaking moving past him towards the stairs.

The footsteps that were caused by no one.

It’s official.

Steve’s lost it.

He’s fucking crazy.

He’s hearing footsteps and voices swearing quietly, and he’s going mad and completely batshit and should be tucked away in a padded room for the rest of his life.

He didn’t even bother to wrench the bat out of the wall as he stumbled after the imagined footsteps.

He clearly needed to get a good night’s sleep, and to forget that anything happened at all tonight.

Billy hates Harrington’s house.

He doesn’t, really. It’s given him excellent shelter while he pulled himself together, and it’s out of town enough to serve as a good base for the little gang of Lost Boys he had accumulated.

It’s just that, the old house likes to make a lot of noise.

It keeps him on edge.

Every squealing door hinge, and every creaky floorboard sets his teeth on edge and makes him whip around in a frenzy, expecting to see a demogorgon snarling at him from the sitting room.

He nearly had a heart attack when he heard the thuds coming from upstairs.

He generally liked to avoid the top floor of the house.

Harrington’s bedroom was up there, and it wigged him out something fierce. He’d only been in the dilapidated version of it one time, his first night in the house he had claimed for safety.

He didn’t intend to stay the night in there, he had just stumbled upon it, and curled up in the bed.

He remembers not sleeping the entire night. He was so scared after coming to in the library, something slimy and disgusting slipping its way out of his throat.

The whole place had been screaming, as though the Upside Down itself was alive. Alive and being horrifically murdered.

He didn’t know what it was called then, all he knew was that Harrington’s house was the first one he came across, and that Harrington’s room was depressingly empty and impersonal.

But, there was a thudding coming from that general area, and if some kinda shitty creature was making its way into the house, he needed to hedge it off before it did any damage.

He took hold of his ax, never far from his side these days, and slipped out of his cot.

The floorboards in the hallway were creaky, and he tried to walk slowly, muffling his footsteps as much as he could in his heavy boots, not wanting to warn the monster he was coming for it.

He cataloged the crew in his head: Hopper had his troop of three in the basement where they were resting up for the supply run tomorrow. Timothy was on nightwatch with his team of five. Billy was in a pack with four others; Heather Holloway, her mother, Janet, and the two boys they found skulking around the library the same night everyone seemed to wake up. One of the boys was called Andrew. The other hadn’t spoken a single word the entire time they’d been trapped.

Billy liked to call him by different names each time he referred to the kid. Trying to get him to laugh. He couldn’t’ve been more than seven years old, and he was trapped in this fucking hellscape with the rest of them.

Andrew was thirteen. Billy didn’t like to look at him much. Andrew reminded him of Max. Which made Billy feel empty and achy in a way he didn’t think was very productive for survival.

But Andrew took a shine to Janet Holloway. Probably missing his mother and needing more comfort than his thirteen-year-old self was willing to admit.

The Holloway women were a hell of a lot feistier than Bill originally gave them credit for, saving his ass in a scrap just as often as he had been there for theirs. Heather and Janet were equal parts caring and soft, with the right amounts of clever and bossy to take point on their team.

Billy let himself be the muscle.

He let himself be the watchdog and attack dog. He took nightwatches and never let his weapons out of his grasp.

Everyone had a role.

And that was perfectly okay.

They had to keep together in this world. They wouldn’t survive it otherwise.

They’d all lost enough people to understand that.

One of the boards gave a hefty creak under his left foot, and he breathed a quiet fuck through his bandana, listening for more of the thudding.

It had stopped about forty seconds before, Billy had counted, and he couldn’t hear any other sounds of something forcing its way inside. Plus, the nightwatch hadn’t sounded any alarms.

He took another step, ax held ready and aloft in case he came face to ugly face with one of the horrible creatures that prowled the night.

He rounded the corner, and there was a loud bang on the wall next to his head.

He jumped as paint chipped off the wall and flew all over him.

He was hit with a feeling of intense fear, and adrenaline rush that caused all the blood in his ears to rush. He looked wildly around, seeing, nothing.

Billy bared his teeth, ready to go down fucking swinging.

As long as he took the fucker down with him, that’s all that matters.

Save the rest.

And he stood, ready to fight, ready to die.

And there was nothing.

Nothing in the hallway. He was all alone.

None of this shit made any sense. He hadn’t dreamed the wall cracked beside his head, and looking back, there were holes in the wall, and a big dent that had splinted the white paint and drywall beneath it.

There was some fucked up shit going on, and Billy didn’t like it one bit.

He continued down the hall, creeping to the stairs to check the original source of the noises that had woken him up.

Harrington’s room was pretty much just as he remembered it from that first night in the house.

It was sparse and sad-looking. The covers on the bed were all jostled and thrown around, the horrible spindle-like vines covering nearly every surface in the room.

They had cleared the tendrils in other rooms, cutting them and burning them back, ensuring the vines didn’t start creeping over them when they weren’t looking.

Billy didn’t fancy being covered and tethered by the slimy black vines. He was pretty much over all this Upside Down shit.

He took a cursory look around Harrington’s room, not noticing any signs of forced entry from a creature, really nothing was out of place.

The meager school trophies on the bookshelf next to the closet looked rotted and tarnished, just like everything else in this absolute hell called a parallel universe. There were few pictures in this room, much like the whole house. It had taken Billy a long time to notice the lack of inhabitancy the house had. The way it seemed to feel so cold and empty, it would be that way in the real world too.

His eyes swept over the dilapidated dresser, cataloging the room quickly for anything that should worry him.

Billy deemed the whole scene safe, and made sure to close the door tightly as he retreated back downstairs.

Steve’s going fucking crazy.

He was still in bed, his alarm clock ringing angrily at him as it had for the past six minutes.

He hadn’t slept at all last night.

Something just felt. Off.

The feelings in his chest were scrambled, and they felt foreign to him. Like he had taken in somebody else’s emotions.

But proximity was the key to his power, and he was alone. Alone alone.

Like, the closest person was Mrs. Gardfeld in the next house, all the way across their combined, much too big, yards.

It felt like. It felt like someone was in the house with him. Someone was in the house with him, and they were scared, and stubborn, and tired, and a flurry of things that made Steve feel ill.

And he couldn’t push them out.

He couldn’t find the chasm between this slew of someone else’s shit, and his own messy cocktail of feelings.

The other feelings were like those awful vines in the tunnel. Snaking around under his feet, wiggling up his ankles and keeping him stuck in the mud. Wrapping around his own emotions and squeezing until they just merged into one.

He’s lost the metaphor.

Doesn’t matter.

His feelings are fucked and his brain is fucked and his day is fucked.

And he has to work a double at Family Fuckin’ Video.

He found his way out of bed. Not going very far, just standing next to his warm nest of blankets, debating getting back in and hiding for the rest of his life.

He was going to be late for work.

He didn’t really give a fuck.

Keith would be all smug and probably make some remarks about Steve not even being worth the less-than-minimum wage he was making.

He took a shower, not so much cleaning himself as letting the lukewarm water cascade down on him and hope it got rid of the stench of sweat and anxiety and bad sleep that was clinging angrily to his skin.

His brain was empty.

Empty save for the pounding otherness that were these horrible fucking feelings.

Robin didn’t even have the heart to call him out for being nearly half an hour late.

“You look like shit.”

No, she just called him out for looking like shit.

“Y’know, it’s really wonderful to have such a caring and thoughtful friend in these trying times.”

She rolled her eyes. He always told her one day she was gonna get stuck like that. With her eyes permanently fixed towards the ceiling in exasperation.

“Drop the attitude, Steve Harrington. Just because you didn’t sleep doesn’t mean I have to suffer.”

Sometimes it was hard to tell if she was joking. Steve just clenched his jaw and stared at her blankly. Either she would get mad at him, or sigh and roll her eyes.

She sighed and rolled her eyes.

Bingo.

She wasn’t actually mad at him.

“You okay?”

“Jus’, some weirdness. Bad vibes.”

He couldn’t give her more than that. Couldn’t say I can feel someone else in my house and I don’t know if someone is hiding in my house or if I’m going crazy, oh and by the way, I was one of those freaky lab kids and I can manipulate and feel people’s thoughts and emotions, by the way.

That’s too much for a slow shift on a Saturday morning.

That’s too much for really any time of any day.

No, Steve fully plans to take all that shit to the grave. Like a real man, his dad would say.

“Well, if you could take your bad vibes back to rewind duty, that would leave all the good vibes up here to me.” She shooed him off with her hand, landing a quick slap square on his left asscheck when he groaned and dragged his feet dramatically on his way to the back room.

Not that Steve would ever actually complain about rewind duty. Steve preferred doing it to anything else in the place. Especially re-shelving. That was just asking for someone to come ask him for a movie recommendation. Steve only watched the same five campy old westerns and when he recommends any of those, people seem to wanna get out of his face right quick.

No, rewinding was dull and monotonous and solitary, all the shit that Steve really needed on a day like today.

There was a strict routine and he didn’t have to think or do anything.

Just sit. New tape. Rewind. Put in case. Put in re-shelve bucket. New tape. Rewind. Put in case. And again and again and again until all the tapes were ready to go.

Hawkins tended to take out a lot of movies on the weekend. Not much else to do when you aren’t sixteen and ready to hit up any party you could possibly weasel your way into.

So, Steve had about fifty some odd tapes to rewind from the past few days and he was feeling benignly excited about sitting in the small room for most of his shift.

It was easy to pass the shift like that.

Sitting with the quiet whirring of the tapes being tracked back to the beginning. Not having to deal with anyone’s thoughts except his own tedious ones about when he should take his lunch break and reminding himself to check the TV Guide for anything good tonight.

It was an odd emptiness that took hold of him throughout the day. And he almost felt, well.

Lonely.

He almost felt lonely.

Which is fucking bonkers because that horrible feeling of someone else had well and truly fucked him over last night, and well into this morning, but he kind. Missed. The other presence.

He’s officially crazy.

Someone find this boy a padded fucking cell because Steve Harrington has officially gone all kinds of batshit bananas wacky.

He’s feeling lonely because the horrible not his feelings of fear and anger and betrayal and desperation aren’t clogging up his little brain sink. Even when they were, the brain sink was threatening to burst and leak all over his brain kitchen.

Or something to that effect.

He let his eyes unfocus, watching Jaws at double speed and backward for the fourth time that day.

There was something about the foreign feelings he just couldn’t quite wrap his head around.

Something twinging in the back of his brain, screaming at him to open his eyes and pay attention.

But that’s never been Steve’s strong suit.

“Stupid. Fucking. Vines .”

Hopper muttered to himself a lot.

It was usually too muffled underneath his own bandana face covering and the hefty beard he had been sporting to discern whatever he was thinking, but it’s not like hating the awful black tendrils of gross plant/monster/everything-that-made-up-the-Upside-Down hybrid of vine-ish tentacles was something that just Hopper experienced.

It was a sentiment they all shared as they hacked away at the new growth in the dilapidated Bradley’s Big Buys.

They had already ransacked the general store five times over, and took as much as they could salvage from the wreckage of the other-dimensional mall.

Supplies were needed, and they had to be smart about it.

Things had been quiet lately.

Not many beasties out and about since the night they all seemed to come to.

Hopper had said something about the gate closing and the brain being cut off from the body.

Billy hadn’t listened.

He’d been scared off his ass and all that had really registered was clear for now.

So, they made supply runs. And poked around town for any survivors left to take back to Basecamp Harrington. Only Billy called it that.

They had the runs down to a system.

Pry away any vines they could, burning them back as they went, making enough room to slip into the bargain store, gather as much canned food and grimy medical supplies as they could manage, and book it back to the relative safety of the big house on the edge of the forest.

Nobody talked about what they’d do when they ran out of supplies. When they’d exhausted their resources and were stuck with nothing but the vines on the ground and the spores in the air.

Billy got it.

It’s not like he wants to hear he’ll probably die of starvation and/or a gangrenous infection before he’s eighteen.

They just. Make do.

Ration food and keep each other safe.

Always thinking about the minute they’re in and the minute coming up. Not looking too far forward.

There’s nothing to see too far in the future.

Billy crashed the blunt end of his ax through the sliding door at the front of the store, clearing away as much as he could.

Janet and Andrew would slip inside first go, taking as much as they could carry with them. Next round, Heather would take the little one and gather anything left.

Billy would keep watch.

He always kept watch.

Things had been too good for too long.

After the first wave of those who didn’t make it, the whole broken side of the Earth was too kind to them. Not sending horrible fleshy monsters to nearly suck out their very souls.

Billy didn’t think this could last for much longer.

Heather took the little one by the hand, rushing past her mother and Andrew as they returned with their supplies. Billy did a quick scan of them, noting no new injuries. Nothing out of the norm.

Supply runs were choreographed down to the minute.

Should the group not return in forty-five minutes, a search team was sent out.

The small group trudged back to the Harrington safehouse, keeping in the shadows, not a single one of them daring to speak. Billy walked slightly behind the others, never letting himself relax for a single second.

Things were too quiet.

The feeling hit Steve over the head like a sack of bricks being whacked against his skull.

Walking into his home was like walking into a stinking den of fear and anxiety. The air was clogged with so many emotions Steve felt like he was choking on them, slowly being crushed under their weight.

Whoever was emitting all these, Steve felt sorry for them. He can’t imagine living with this much bad energy taking up space in someone’s brain. He could barely cope with his own terrible bullshit. He doesn’t know how someone could cope with this.

He tried to move through his evening to the best of his ability.

He nearly set the house on fire when he left the tin foil covering on his frozen meal, causing the microwave to spark angrily at him, the potatoes underneath the corner of foil that had nearly caught fire to smolder and blacken.

Even in the shower, the water as hot and steamy as he could stand, he felt that prickle he couldn’t get rid of.

Like if he could just close his eyes and reach out far enough, his fingers would brush someone else. Someone nearby.

He’s felt it before. That there was a person just out of reach. A person he could feel clear as a bell, but couldn’t alter. Couldn’t manipulate. Just had to experience everything that was going on inside and try to hold on for the ride.

He wore headphones to bed, blasting a mixtape Robin had made for him last month. Something with a lot of heavy guitars and girls wailing about society.

He doesn’t think it was all that good, but it helped. Helped him feel like maybe the person wasn’t seeping into his own soul.

And the whining synth of Patti Smith finally let him get some goddamn sleep.

“Hello?”

It was his house.

But it wasn’t his house.

It was a blank void. It was nothing. It was nowhere.

But for some reason, his brain kept telling him it was his house.

“Harrington?”

It was Billy. Hargrove.

But it wasn’t Billy.

He was dirty, covered in soot and horrible black sludge that made Steve’s stomach churn.

“Why are you in my house?”

Billy looked around the blank void all around them. Water sloshed on the floor, lapping at Billy’s black boots. Steve observed his own toes.

He was barefoot, but he couldn’t feel the water.

“This is your house?”

Steve didn’t want to explain.

“You’re dead.”

“Could be soon.”

Nothing Billy said made any sense. But then, Billy never made much sense when he was alive, either.

He was an enigma to Steve. A big question mark all wrapped up with a gorgeous face and perfect body.

“Where is this to you?”

Why was Steve’s brain so adamant on declaring this place his house?

“Somewhere safe.”

So.

That’s something.

Dreaming about Harrington.

Not necessarily something that Billy wanted to have happen to him while he was experiencing the worst possible time in his life.

Or maybe he did.

He’d said it in the dream.

Somewhere safe.

It’s what he felt in that blackness.

Safety. Warmth. Hope.

All the shit he hasn’t felt since he opened his eyes in the rank-ass library.

That darkness was like a harness, keeping him grounded to something real. Tucking him in gently at night and kissing him on the head.

It made waking up that much shittier.

Knowing he’d be on nightwatch with Heather and Janet tonight, he used resting up as an excuse to lay on his cot, hardly moving in the clouded air.

He needed to process.

There was something so fucking weird about that dream.

It felt real in the moment, and he didn’t question anything that had happened.

Why there was water on the ground at his feet? Why Harrington was there wearing pajamas Billy could only describe as skanky? All of this made perfect fucking sense to dream Billy.

Awake Billy, had some fuckin’ questions.

Mostly, those previously listed. As well as: what the fuck?

He blames seeing Steve specifically on being in his house. That makes sense. You tend to think about a guy quite a lot when you’re living in the broken shell of his family home. He blames seeing Steve in those itsy-bitsy shorts and a homemade cropped t-shirt on the well repressed sexual interest he refused to admit he felt towards the guy.

All that made sense.

But everything else.

Steve said he was dead.

Was he dead?

Was this Hell?

Purgatory?

He’s read The Divine Comedy, and this doesn’t quite match up with any of the shit Dante waxed on about.

And dream Billy didn’t think that was a weird thing to say to someone. To accuse them of being dead. He just said could be soon and then acted like that was a normal fucking response.

His head was spinning out of control.

The only thing that made sense was when Billy said they were somewhere safe.

Because, they were.

Even in the void place, he knew they were safe.

There was a small tapping sound on the wall next to the open door frame.

The door had long since rotted right through.

“Miss Janet sent me to see if you’re alright.”

Andrew was always calling Janet Holloway Miss Janet.

It makes Billy wonder if manners like that were beaten into him by a father like Neil.

He hopes not.

He likes Andrew too much for that.

Andrew hovered around while Billy swung himself out of his cot.

He changed out the bandana over his mouth and nose.

Most of them slept fully dressed, even with their shoes and socks still firmly on their feet.

You had to be ready to go at the slightest sound of Bad in this place.

Plus, everything was so goddamn dirty, what’s a little mud in the sheets in the grand scheme of things? And the rancid rotting smell of the Upside Down did wonders to cover the smell of body odor.

Billy followed Andrew down the L-shaped hallway, to the sitting room where he found Janet and Heather huddled together on one couch, the little one between them.

“Apparently something happened on the run last night.”

Billy’s blood ran cold. He couldn’t make out Janet’s expression under her face covering. The little one got up from his spot on the couch, standing in Billy’s shadow. He liked to do that. Billy figured he felt safe behind someone so much bigger and stronger than him. Someone with a big fuckin’ weapon that was never too far away.

“Who’d we lose?”

“No one. Everyone’s okay. Hopper just called all of us for a discussion, then went to the basement.”

The basement was Hopper’s domain with his little chunk of the crew.

He had found some busted up H.A.M. radio from somewhere he refused to explain, and spent all the time he wasn’t watching over his shoulder for threats or gathering supplies from smashed grocery stores, trying to fix it up, tuning it to different crackling stations, and yelling into it.

El. El, I need you to copy if you can hear me. El!

The pillow was a mess of blood the next morning.

It was congealed and cracked and tacky against his face and made the pillowcase stick to his cheek and his bloody upper lip in a way that kinda made Steve wanna puke a little bit.

His nose had bled in the night.

He never got nosebleeds.

Unless he used his power.

And that dream.

That blank void space and that mucky scraggly Billy lookin’ like the hunky star of some apocalypse movie.

Wait.

Blood forgotten, smeared on his face and neck, Steve tossed himself towards the phone on his nightstand, smacking his shoulder against the wooden corner and tumbling to the floor, his legs still tangled in his sheets on the bed.

He couldn’t deal with anything, snatching the phone up and punching in the only number that was grinding through his head.

“ Pick up pick up pick up pick up pick up, ” he muttered into the receiver.

His upper body was still flopped over to the plush carpet, legs twitching and shaking on the bed with his anxiety.

He’s had some massive fucking realizations and he needs backup.

“This is the Byers.”

“Put El on the phone.”

“Oh. Steve’s covered in blood again. The Upside Down must really be back,” Dustin said in complete monotone as Steve opened the door.

Steve couldn’t give less of a fuck right now.

He felt like he was on the verge of a major breakthrough, all coming in the neat package of a major breakdown.

He felt manic and shaky and so what if he forgot he was covered in the aftermath of a superpower-nosebleed-explosion?

“Shut up. Just get in.”

El had rallied the old troops from St. Paul, calling everyone at the ass-crack o’fuck in the morning and saying something about catching some weird Hawkins vibes all the way from Minnesota.

It was a fucking weak excuse, but explaining the whole Steve situation was just not really in the cards today.

He’s got an agenda and they need to stick to it.

Robin said she’d gather Max on the way to Steve’s place, and Nancy was probably hauling Mike and Lucas over faster than a speeding gun or whatever that expression is, so all Steve had to do was get his story straight.

“And maybe you should think about putting on a clean shirt? At the very least. I’d say, maybe just start over. Take a shower. Powerwash your face, even.”

“When the fuck did you become sarcastic ?”

“Right after you became friends with the coolest chick on the planet and then decided you’re too good for her.”

“ Chick. Don’t call Robin a chick. And I’ve told you, we’re just friends. I’m not too good for her.”

Really, Steve thought she was too good for him.

Well, that, and there’s the whole part where she’s super totally not into guys at all.

“So, what’s this all about, anyway? Mike said on the phone that El called him and left a really cryptic message.”

“Look. She called me to explain and ask if everyone could meet here,” Steve lied. “I’ll give you guys a recap once the rest of the gang shows.”

“But she thinks there’s something going on with the Upside Down? Again ?”

“I think she knows there’s something going on with the Upside Down.”

The more Steve sat with the memory of how Billy looked in that dream, the more he was certain of where he was.

Billy had been ratty. His normally perfect hair was long and limp, greasy on top and matted around his face. He was sporting a patchy beard, nothing like the fuckin’ pornstache the guy had been rocking all last summer.

And he was filthy. Covered in grime and dirt, and Steve’s sure if he’d looked harder, he would’ve seen traces of that viscous black goo that only meant bad news.

There was a squeal of tires, an alarm signaling the arrival of Nancy in her mother’s station wagon, toting her brother and Lucas.

“I’m in this now, Lucas Sinclair!” came Erica’s voice from the entryway.

Steve was tapping his foot impatiently.

“Erica, you accidentally found out about all this!”

“So did you!”

The Sinclair siblings’ bickering was only cut by the sound of the Wheeler siblings snapping at one another in turn.

“Am I the only one that thinks it doesn’t make sense to meet up this early? El and Will are like, seven hours away!”

“Mike! It doesn’t matter. We all have to talk and figure out what’s going on.”

The sounds of arguments all quieted abruptly as the four people rounded the corner and caught sight of Steve.

“Oh, Jesus. Who kicked your ass this time?” Mike snipped at Steve.

Oh, yeah. He keeps forgetting he’s covered in his own nose blood.

“What? It’s nothing. I kicked my own ass. Just take a seat.”

“I told you to-”

Steve didn’t wanna hear it.

He loves all these people, but his head kinda felt like it was full of mushy jelly and runny pudding and all the loud talking wasn’t doing much to help.

He stepped out onto the porch, snagging the pack of cigarettes he kept stowed in the flower box next to the door.

It took two to finally tame his nerves any.

Sitting there with all the people in his house waiting for an explanation, he kinda felt like his haphazard plan was shit and going to fall through immediately.

Just tell them El called. Tell them she saw Billy in the nowhere place and she thinks he’s alive. Easy as pie.

The tell-tale sound of a skateboard making its way closer and closer announced Max before he saw her.

Robin was pedaling next to her, helmet lopsided on her head and not buckled underneath her chin.

They were talking animatedly to one another, their laughter dying as soon as they saw Steve waiting for them.

“Fuck. So this is real.”

“Why does everyone think I got the shit beat outta me?”

“Your ass gets creamed every time some spooky shit goes down in this place, Harrington,” Max informed him.

She was a little Billy replica, all the way down to the way the corner of her mouth twitched up when she said his name.

It would’ve been sad. The way she tried to become her brother after losing him so violently last summer.

But something like relief settled into his bones, strong and real and wait ‘til I tell her Billy’s not dead and he was laughing. Curling in on himself cackling so hard his stomach had already begun to get sore

“Fuck. He’s lost it,” Robin sighed, ditching her bike next to Dustin’s and heaving Steve up, both hands underneath his armpits.

Nobody dared speak.

“And you’re sure? You’re positive you heard one of those things?”

Janet had her arms twisted over her chest, her jaw tight as she watched Hopper’s every move.

“It’s not really a sound you forget.”

Billy’s hand was shaking, he was gripping the ax so hard.

“So, we’re fucked,” Angela said harshly. Her cold voice sent ice down Billy’s spine. “If those things are back, we don’t stand a fucking chance.”

Hopper scrubbed his hand over his brow, sighing through the cloth over his mouth and nose.

“It just means I have to try harder. I can get to El, I know I can.”

Hopper said that a lot. But he never explained what getting to El meant.

Heather had explained she met El once, but she said it was weird and she only saw her like some kind of shadow, a figment in this dark empty place. Somewhere as cold and broken as the Upside Down felt.

The little one was leaned up against Billy, his left hand balled in the edge of Billy’s leather jacket. He stood like that a lot. It was grounding for Billy. Kinda like holding Max’s hand when she was young and still thought he was the coolest person she’d ever met.

“But, you only heard something, right? So it very well could be nothing.” Timothy was good at keeping mediator. He always kept a level head and talked slowly and calmly. They needed someone like him in this nightmare.

“They make this noise. This kind of wet chirping. Like this gurgle that just sounds like they’re watching you, ready to pounce out at any time, shrieking and attacking. It’s not a sound you forget.” Hopper had this horrible haunted look on his face, and Billy fucking believed him.

“Then we up nightwatch. Stick together,” Billy offered. He never usually piped up with strategy, but that’s the best he’s got, and frankly, he thinks it’s the only way they’d all be able to make it through.

“Exactly. We move in a pack now. Keep track of everyone together, and stay aware of what’s around us. I think we should do a major run and then lock up for a few days to see what goes down.”

Hopper leaned back in the ratty armchair he was taking up, looking around to see if anyone challenged his ideas.

Billy had given up his alpha male attitude the second Hopper yanked his upper arm and nearly screamed at him, asking Billy if he was ‘one of the flayed’ all while aggressively checking him over for injuries.

First time any of Neil’s lessons actually sunk in.

Respect and responsibility.

If that fucker could see Billy now, doing nothing but respecting authority and taking responsibility for all these peoples’ lives.

“We should rest up. Take a run tonight. Get a lay of the land,” Timothy said with an air of finality. Nobody argued.

Hopper nodded.

Everyone broke out from the Harringtons’ living room, milling around to get prepared for tonight’s run. Taking stock of what they needed to keep going for the next few days.

Billy was itching to slide back into his cot and try to seek out that space if he can. The empty space where Harrington and that warm feeling of safe existed.

The little one stayed clinging to his jacket, and Billy took a loose hold of his wrist, trying to provide some kind of basic comfort to the tiny kid.

“You wanna go raid the cabinet?” The kid stared up at Billy with big eyes. Billy could never tell what color they were in the gloom. He thinks maybe green.

The cabinet was a large door, built into the wall of the sitting room, and clearly where the Harringtons kept their games.

They had these excruciating couple thousand-piece puzzles, the pictures peeling and faded on the pieces. They had Trivial Pursuit and backgammon, and all kindsa shit.

The little one went and pulled out the checkers board. That was the only game Billy knew how to play anyhow.

He and Max used to sit for hours, playing with this dinosaur-themed checker game Max’s dad got for her one birthday.

It helped, playing a game. Helped pass the time. Help bait the anxiety.

Helped them all feel a little bit closer to human.

“I don’t. Get it.”

Apparently, Nancy was not the only one, if the blank stares Steve was receiving from around his living room were anything to go by.

“Yeah, why did she call you ?” Mike’s snitty tone was really grating on Steve’s fragile nerves.

“She said, she called to make sure everyone could come over here before she told you all to just show up this early on a Sunday morning and then she kinda explained what happened.”

Max was white as a sheet, tracking Steve like he was playing a horrible joke on her.

“And she saw Billy. Billy Hargrove .”

Steve nodded at Dustin.

“Why does she think he’s in the Upside Down?” Robin asked, perched on the coffee table, sitting closest to where he was standing nervously.

“She just knows .”

It was frustrating, trying to impart the seriousness of the situation without just spilling his guts.

He rubbed absentmindedly at the cigar burn on his wrist.

“I just don’t believe this. I talked to her three days ago, and she’s still having trouble with her powers. She can barely move a book, and hasn’t been able to get to the void since July, and you’re saying she accidentally saw Billy Hargrove, who we all saw murder a bunch of people and then get killed -”

“Shut up! He wasn’t himself!” Max shrieked out over Mike, the only time she’d even opened her mouth since Steve had mentioned her stepbrother’s name.

“Even if he is alive, El couldn’t have seen him! It doesn’t make sense!” Mike’s voice rose over Max’s, and Steve has a fucking headache and he’s over it.

“It was me! I had a dream. I went to the void. I saw Billy in the Upside Down. I called El to say she saw him.”

Everyone went dead silent, staring at him.

“Steve,” Robin began, searching his face.

It was like all the wind that had been filling up his sails, powering his energy ship, had suddenly quit blowing.

Steve was tired.

He sank to the floor, crossing his legs where he sat.

“I need you all to shut the fuck up for a moment and let me explain, because I only wanna say all this shit once.” He covered his bloody face with his hands. “I’m like El.”

That statement hung in the air for a moment.

And then there was a roar of noise.

“How could you keep this a secret?” Dustin shouted.

“Not in a million years !” Lucas decided. Erica yelled something back at him, vaguely defending Steve, which was nice.

“You mean you came from the lab?” Mike had a look on his face like he’d swallowed a particularly bitter lemon.

“Everybody, shut the fuck up!” Max roared, glowering at each person until they were silent again.

In all this Robin hadn’t said a word. She was pale, staring at Steve.

“Look, I don’t wanna go into it because it fucking sucks to think about,” Steve still hadn’t uncovered his face. “But yeah. I was in the lab. I got out because they decided I was a failed experiment. My mom worked at the lab and she took me and we pretended like the three of us moved here from Oklahoma and my dad told me never to tell anyone. And I haven’t. Didn’t even tell El. She recognized me from then. Don’t even know how, I left when she was like, three. Doesn’t matter. I’m a freaky lab kid and last night I fell asleep and saw Billy in that-what’d you call it? The void? Yeah, I saw him, and he’s covered in dirt and gross black Upside Down shit, and he’s fucking stuck there, and now we’re here.”

There was another silence.

Steve didn’t dare to look at any of them.

He didn’t want them to laugh in his face. Tell him he was making all this shit up and leave him alone to deal with Billy trapped somewhere else.

He wanted them to take his word for it. To quietly believe this crazy fucking shit of a story because the scared other feeling was back and clawing at his spine and making him want to burrow into the ground and find somewhere safe and secure and-

“Okay.”

Of course it was Robin.

It was always Robin.

Steve let himself look at her.

She was pale, but she was smiling at him.

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Steve nodded once.

“Okay. Uh, great.”

“Wait, if you’re defective, no offense, then how did you see Billy?”

Steve stared at Max weighing his answer carefully.

“Because, well, the defective thing, that was all, I didn’t mean to, that was before I really understood what I could do. Don’t get me wrong, it really worked out, but it was an accident.”

“Spit it out, Sailor Man.”

“ Erica .”

Erica just rolled her eyes at Lucas.

“Okay. Uh, before I explain, just, just keep in mind that I have rules, and I don’t use my powers if I can avoid them, and I’d never use them to be a creep, but-”

“Steve!”

“Fine!” The words were right there, ready to tumble out of his mouth and ruin his life forever.

There was no going back after this.

The second they knew, everything would be different.

“I can feel other peoples’ emotions and, like, change them.”

Another silence.

“I don’t understand.”

Nancy was the last person he’d ever want to have this conversation with.

He knows what she’s thinking. He knows that the great anger brewing inside her is because she assumes he made her like him. Made her attracted to him.

Made her want him.

“I don’t use it like that. I would never, put something there that shouldn’t be there. It’s just, When someone feels something near me, I can tap into it. Let it become my own feelings. And then I just, change it. Just a little.” He cast around for a harmless example because so far, everyone was staring at him like a goddamn creep. “Robin!”

She startled slightly when he yelled at her.

“Okay, so Robin. I’d never, ever make you feel something not true to you. Like, I’d never make it so you were into me when you’re totally not, right?” He cast a glance at Nancy. “But, like, the other day, when you felt really shitty when I invited you over and you were studying, I just, I made it so you wouldn’t feel bad. I felt all this guilt you had for leaving me alone when you thought I was having a shitty day, and I made it so you didn’t feel guilty because you shouldn’t. That’s the kinda level I allow myself to work on.”

The look Robin was giving him was breaking his fucking heart.

Worse still, was the feeling of betrayal that began eating away at her.

“So, right now. You can tell what we’re all feeling?” Even Lucas, ever the level-headed one, couldn’t look him in the eye.

“I don’t want to. I don’t try to, but I can’t really avoid it. I just try to ignore it. But sometimes, sometimes if I bottle it all up for a while, it comes crashing out of me, and that’s when bad shit happens. If I don’t use it occasionally, it only wakes things worse, and I-”

“I can’t hear this.”

Robin’s anger crashed through Steve like a wave, nearly knocking him over. She stood, towering over him.

“When we were in that bathroom, all drugged out of our minds. I-” she sniffed, rage tears pooling in her eyes. Steve likes her eyes. So crystal blue. “Are we even really friends?”

Her last question was nothing more than a whisper.

And it made Steve wish he was never born.

He gaped at her like a dead fish.

“Rob, of course we are! I would never-”

“Because I hated you. And then one summer. Two whole months where we’re close enough that you can get all up in my brain, and suddenly I’m telling you shit I’ve never told anyone before.”

“It wasn’t, Robin I swear, that whole time, I never once used-”

She held up her hand, cutting him off.

A sob caught in his throat as she turned on her heel.

She slammed the door closed behind her.

Another fucking silence.

Steve couldn’t look anyone in the eye.

Their feelings were enough for him now, betrayal and anger and disappointment rushing into his lungs, drowning him. Choking him.

“You’ve used them on all of us.”

It wasn’t a question.

It was just a statement. The coldest he’s ever heard Dustin sound.

“I just want everyone to be happy.”

“Jesus, Steve. You realize that’s actually totally fucked up, right? You can’t just make us feel whatever you want,” Dustin bellowed at him, standing up like Robin had done, looking down at Steve where he sat pathetically on the floor.

And, when it’s put like that.

Sure.

It’s kinda fucked up.

But he’s only ever meddled in a way that’s good. He only ever tries to make his friends feel the positives. Hell, on the night of that stupid Snow Ball, he’d given Dustin enough self-confidence to make Madonna seem insecure.

All he does is try to help.

“All I do is try to help.”

More fucking silence.

Steve was so goddamn sick of silence. All he had was silence. He had the nothing, empty quiet. And he didn’t want it from the people who were supposed to make his life loud.

“El won’t be here until later tonight. I think we should just meet up then.”

Steve buried his head in his hands, biting back sobs as the small group filtered out of his house.

This is why he had wanted to take this secret with him to death.

He told everyone who he really is, and now they all hate him, and he’s completely alone, and wherever Billy is he’s fucking scared and-

“Steve?”

Max’s voice was small, mirroring the way she was curled in on herself in the plush armchair near the wall.

“Do you really think Billy’s alive?”

Steve nodded at her, desperately begging her to stay. To help him.

“I know he is.”

“I have an idea.”

He doesn’t remember falling asleep.

Doesn’t remember much of anything in this place.

He studied the water lapping at his muddy boots, dragging his toes through it to make the water wave and ripple.

It didn’t make a sound.

“I want to help.”

Billy knew Steve was there even before he spoke.

Something about the warmth he brought to the void place.

The safety.

��Don’t know if you can.”

Steve’s lips twitched into a ghost of a smile at that. His face was covered in blood, dried and flaking away from his skin, painted all the way down his face and neck, some staining the collar of his shirt.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“That happens when the only interactions you have with a guy are to beat his ass.”

Steve cracked a real smile at that. Something big and bright that made Billy’s gut twist in a way he didn’t quite like.

“You’re forgetting all those other times we spent together. You’re not very subtle, you know.”

Yeah, Billy knows.

Mostly because he wasn’t trying to be subtle.

He had talked to Steve about his bitchy ex while they both had their dicks out in the shower. He was trying to be very much un-subtle.

“Wasn’t trying to be.”

“I know.”

Oh.

Steve knows.

And all he had done was stare blankly at Billy.

Nice.

“I need to know where you are.”

“Why?”

“Because I can help.”

Billy just blinked at Steve.

“Do you know El?”

Something funny happened to Steve’s face. He kind of gave a little smile that flickered into a frown and landed on something a little pinched and awkward.

“Yeah. How do you know her?”

“Hopper keeps saying he needs to get to her. None of us know what he’s talking about.”

And with that, Steve’s eyes went huge, and his jaw dropped. The water at Billy’s ankles sloshed quietly.

“Hopper’s there? Chief Hopper? Jim Hopper is there?”

“Jesus, yeah. Been here since we all woke up.”

Steve acted like Billy had told him that Farrah Fawcett herself was on her way to shave his head.

Meaning, he looked struck fucking dumb.

“I’m gonna need you to explain.”

“I don’t know. Don’t remember much. Crashed my car on one of your shitty backwoods roads, and then everything is just, kinda, gone. I woke up in this shithole version of the library and Hopper found me here and we’ve kinda set up camp.”

Billy shrugged lamely. Something was dripping, he could hear the sound of it far behind him.

“There’s more of you? How many?”

“Not as many as there should be.”

Steve’s mouth pinched, and his big droopy eyes went all sweet and sad.

“Where are you? Where’s the camp?”

Billy was suddenly embarrassed. There was a sound like a stream flowing over rocks.

What’s he supposed to say? The hellscape skeleton of your house oh and by the way all your stuff is here and I slept in your bed once because I was scared and sad.

“Someone’s house. Don’t know whose.”

Steve huffed some air out of his nostrils, his mouth pinching again.

Billy hadn’t realized someone could make so many different expressions just by pursing their lips in different ways.

“Find out. We’re coming to get you.”

A crash of a wave, and Billy was back in hell.

Steve sucked in lungfuls of air, tossing the towel that had been covering his eyes to the ground.

“You saw him.”

Max was sitting in front of him, the t.v. playing static behind her.

“Yeah. He’s okay. I mean, he’s really gross. Like, he’s-sorry. He’s okay.”

Max was still staring at him like she didn’t quite know how to proceed.

“But he’s in the Upside Down?”

“Yeah. And there’s others. He said Hopper’s there, that he’s been trying to contact El.”

“Wait, Hopper? He’s alive?”

“Billy said all of the flayed woke up after the Fourth of July in the Upside Down. He doesn’t know anything that happened in this world, and Hopper was there and they’ve set up, like, some kind of camp, or whatever. He said they’re in someone’s house. He doesn’t know who.”

“ Fuck .”

Yeah, Steve agrees with that sentiment.

This whole thing was like, kind of a lot.

And deep inside him, those other feelings had yet to leave him alone all day.

There was some kind of disappointment knocking about in his brain.

He knows it’s Billy.

All of those other feelings, it’s whatever Billy is feeling right that minute wherever he is.

And it only happens when Steve is-

“Max, he’s here.”

She whipped around behind her, staring at the front door like Billy could waltz through it at any moment.

“No, no not here, here .” She clearly didn’t understand. He used the towel to wipe the fresh blood from his upper lip, still having yet to clean himself up any. “The camp, the safeplace, it’s here. They’ve set up in my house!”

It felt like a revelation on par with the greatest inventions. Steve felt like the scientist that landed the man on the moon or the very first person to melt cheese onto fries.

A genius.

“So, he’s, I mean, he could be, just, here .” She looked over the room wistfully, and Steve knew how she felt. Like she wanted to pierce her hands into thin air, tearing a hole in between the two worlds and ripping Billy straight outta hell.

(Really, she just filled him with a wave of fierce determination, but Steve likes to take poetic license on other people’s feelings sometimes.)

“And you can feel him.”

“Yeah.”

“Is he, okay?”

And he knows this question.

Not the okay he assured her of when he first saw Billy. Soothing that he wasn’t missing any internal organs or possessed by any monsters.

She wants to know if he’s held it together.

“He’s scared. He’s always scared. But he’s really fucking stubborn, and he- I don’t know why he feels these things, but sometimes he gets kinda sad. Almost like he’s lost something, and sometimes, it feels like he’s caught fire, and his insides are just going up in flame and he gets overwhelmed by them. And sometimes he feels-” He hadn’t meant to continue.

“Tell me.”

He’s pretty sure Max knew what he was going to say next.

She just wanted it confirmed.

“Hopeless. Sometimes he feels hopeless.”

She sniffed, her eyes shining as she looked anywhere that wasn’t Steve.

“But, we know now. He doesn’t have to be hopeless anymore. We’ll find a way in, and we’ll get him out.”

He didn’t want to manipulate her.

He didn’t want to cross the boundaries everyone clearly thought he already had.

But he was positive he would find a way to Billy. He was positive he would get him out and get him home.

He sent a wave of that determination and hope and conviction to her.

“Yeah. We’ll get him.”

“Hopper, man, some funky shit is going down.”

Hopper whirled around quickly, halfway to his feet and asking who's been hurt before Billy raised both hands, acting like he was calming an anxious horse.

“Nah, sorry, shoulda worded that better. I just mean, something’s happened to me. With me, maybe. I don’t know. Just hear me out. This shit’s gonna sound, insane.”

Hopper didn’t say anything as Billy explained, beginning with that night when the wall shattered next to his head, and ending with his most recent trip to the void place.

Billy shrugged lamely when he finished explaining.

“So, Harrington, huh? Never woulda guessed he was like her. You sure you didn’t see a little girl anywhere in the blank place?”

“No. It was just us. Both times.”

Hopper leaned back in his chair, scratching a hand through his thick beard.

“The first time one of the demogorgons showed up on our side was behind Steve’s house. Took Will Byers from his shed. They live some few miles away. Second time was in Harrington’s backyard. Took Barbara Holland.” Hopper sighed, looking in the direction of the busted radio. Billy could more or less see the cogs turning in his head. “If you see him again, tell him where we are. Tell him I think the walls are thinnest here. That maybe he and El could tear through. Better yet, tell him to find me if he can.”

He clapped Billy on the shoulder, looking right at him in that way he did sometimes. It always made Billy feel like a little kid.

“Thank you, kid. You might’ve just saved us.”

Billy felt awkward and didn’t really know what to do with his face. Thankfully, Hopper turned away from him, cutting the moment short and moving back to fiddling with the old radio.

Billy ducked his way up and back to the furthest bedroom on the ground floor, taking a seat on his low cot and digging his palms into his eyes.

He didn’t know how the void happened. If he could only get there in his sleep, or if it was Steve’s doing somehow.

“C’mon, Steve. Where are you? Come find me, Pretty Boy. We gotta talk.”

When he moved his hands away, he was in that blank place.

Billy was taken aback a bit, thinking somehow he had created the place around him.

Until he saw Steve, standing nervously and staring at Billy.

“I felt you. What’s wrong?”

“Sorry, you felt me? What in the fuck’s that supposed to mean.”

“Don’t worry about it. What happened? Are you guys okay?”

Steve wasn’t covered in blood anymore.

In fact, he looked freshly showered, his hair slightly damp and soft-looking without product.

It’s how he always looked right after having a post-practice shower. Clean and warm. Soft and inviting.

“I talked to Hopper. He told me to give you a message.”

Steve’s eyes lit up, and he took a step towards Billy, the water rippling where his foot disturbed the surface.

“He said, well. He told me where we are. Apparently, we’re at your place.” Billy tried to smirk a little, act like this was brand new information to him.

“Yeah. I gathered.”

“He thinks the walls are thinnest at your place. Said that maybe you and El could tear through easily. That mean anything to you?”

Steve nodded so hard his bangs flopped right into his eyes.

He pushed his hair out of his face, tucking some behind his ear. Billy tracked the movement.

“We’re going to try tonight. Maybe around six. Can you guys be ready by then?”

“We don’t have any way to track time around here. Don’t even know if it’s day or night, really.”

Steve bit his soft bottom lip, looking at Billy like he wanted to cry for him.

“Then I’ll come and get you before. Warn you when we’re about to start. Make sure everyone stays close. I don’t know how long we’ll be able to keep it sustained, and we want to get everyone out if we can.”

“Steve, man, what in the fuck is going on? I’ve been shut up in this place for, for I don’t even know how long, and all of a sudden, you just start showing up in my head and telling me that you’re gonna take point on this big fuckin’ rescue mission.”

Billy doesn’t want to admit it to anyone, least of all Steve Harrington, but he’s scared, and confused, and he genuinely wishes that he had died in that library instead of waking up.

“I’ll explain it when you get back.”

And Steve smiled at him and the corners of his eyes crinkled and Billy didn’t quite feel like he wanted to die anymore.

“Where are they?”

El didn’t even say hello when she pushed Steve’s front door open, just made straight for Max and Steve in the sitting room.

“They’re all being dicks,” was Max’s answer. “Steve told us about how you two know each other, and everyone kinda freaked.”

“I mean, it’s pretty freaky.”

“Yeah, sure, but they didn’t need to be such shitbirds about it.”

Somewhere between feeling harshly angry at Steve and his powers and hearing her brother’s voice crackle through the television speaker, Max had pretty much ensconced Steve as her sidekick.

Which he didn’t mind in the least.

It was kinda odd seeing the Byers in his house.

Jonathan looked. Exactly the same.

Like literally. His hair had grown out since his mother had taken a pair of scissors and a bowl to it last summer, and he looked just like the Hawkins Jonathan Steve was used to.

It was kinda nice.

At least one thing hasn’t changed.

Especially because Will is pretty much unrecognizable.

He had shot up, growing until he could nearly look Steve in the eye. And thank God, he must've followed Jonathan’s footsteps and stopped letting Joyce cut his hair.

It was longer, adn shaggier, but it made him look so grown up.

Nearly as grownup as El, her hair nearly down to her shoulder blades, the top of her head coming up on Steve’s chin, showing off the signs of her own growth spurt.

Even Joyce was sporting a new look. Longer hair with bangs that were swept off her face.

She gave Steve a comforting hug, and those were just the same.

Unease filled the room.

Nobody knew what they were walking into. El had to have given them the basics, and Steve figures she explained some on the long drive back to town, but there had been even more developments since the last they had spoken this morning.

Steve sifted through the borderline panic of Max and the Byers, clinging onto the fierce calm that El was radiating. Probably for his benefit more than her own actual experience.

“I know where Billy is. We talked. I have an idea.” He took a deep breath, bracing himself for the feelings. “Hopper’s alive.”

It took a second.

El’s carefully maintained calm wavered for a moment.

And then it crashed down.

Disbelief, relief, denial, anger, hope, joy.

Everything a person could possibly feel at once poured out of El and Joyce both, nearly knocking Steve off his feet with the sheer velocity of the emotions.

“Saw him?”

“No. But Billy mentioned him. He said he’s been trying to get to you.”

El’s eyes filled with tears, and Steve could feel the satisfaction, the pride, welling up in her that Hopper was still thinking of her. That he was trying to reach out.

“My powers,” she trailed off.

“Yeah. I know. But, he said, well, he told Billy to tell me, he thinks the walls are thinnest here. Maybe in the woods outback. He thinks we can do it.”

Sorry,” Joyce interrupted. She had gathered herself somewhat, but her feelings were still shaky.

She always felt like she was trembling emotionally. Joyce felt everything nearly as viscerally as Billy did.

“I think we’re not on the same page. Steve, you spoke to Billy? El said she sensed him.”

“Steve is like me. From Papa.”

“You mean, from the lab?” Jonathan clarified.

Everyone was staring at Steve again and he felt like burrowing a hole right through the floor and hiding underground forever.

“Yeah, I got out when I was a kid. My parents were pretty hell-bent on hiding it from everyone. But. You know. Cat’s outta the bag now. But yes, it was me who saw Billy. He’s in the Upside Down. A bunch of people are. Including Hopper. It sounds like they were all taken and the flayed people out here were like, fake. Like evil twin versions.”

Sure, it’s a shitty explanation.

It’s the best he can do, okay? Leave him alone.

“So, what’s his plan, then?”

That’s the good thing about the Byers, though. They get the whole, priority thing. Now’s not the time to focus on shit like Steve’s fake life. Not when the Upside Down is concerned.

“Billy didn’t say much. Just that he thinks maybe El and I could like, band together to open it. I don’t really know how, I mean, I haven’t thought about it much, I just spoke to him, but that's the idea. I told him I would meet him in the void or whatever before we go so he can gather everyone and get ready.”

“So, is it just us?” Will asked quietly, biting the inside of his cheek. He was disappointed. His friends not being where they were needed. Not being there to see him for the first time since his family moved away months ago.

Steve shrugged.

He was battling his own disappointment and hurt at everyone ditching him.

“No. Let’s start calling. We need to stick together for this one. Billy hasn’t said anything about how bad the Upside Down has been, and we need to be ready to fight off anything that tries to get through.”

“Max is right. They should be here.” Will was already making his way to the phone placed on the side table. “They need to be here.”

Jonathan caught Steve’s eye, jerking his head slightly to the hallway.

Steve followed him, already knowing the line of questioning that was about to hit him.

“I knew you called El. I picked up this morning. Now the story makes a lot more sense, I guess.”

“Yeah. I’ve been getting this weird feeling for a couple months, but I finally put it all together. Probably would’ve happened faster it is was El.”

“I don’t know. She’s been struggling a lot. She practices every day, but,” he sighed” I don’t know if she’s strong enough to make this work.”

He’s worried, adn scared, and has that exact same tremble-feeling that his mother does.

“I know. I just don’t think we can leave them any longer. Billy said they’ve already lost people. I don’t know what it’s been like for them, but they’ve been stuck for fucking months, and-”

This time, it hit him so hard he really did blackout.

His vision clouded around him, and his whole body burned with the raging fear inside of him.

He could hear something, could hear someone screaming, adn something, something that sounded horrible, and so very very like a-

“Demogorgon!”

It’s like it had come out of nowhere.

This towering figure, long and thin in all the wrong fucking ways.

And the sound. Billy realized what Hopper meant about how it’s not something you forget.

They were in some form of a ready position.

Billy among the front of the group, holding his ax he had never let go of in the first place.

His heart was pounding.

We’ll be out soon. We’ll be out soon.

He didn’t believe it.

How could he?

How the fuck is Steve Harrington going to get them out of the worst place ever? No offense to him or anything, but the guy could barely make a goddamn milkshake without spilling something on the sticky tile floor of Scoops Ahoy! and now, Billy’s life is in this guy’s hands while he stares into the jaws of a monster that looks like it stepped right out of H.P. Lovecraft’s wettest dreams.

It’s not like this is the first time he’s had this realization, but he is in way over his fucking head.

“Steve,” Billy grumbled to himself through gritted teeth. “If you can hear me, get us the fuck outta here.”

The thing ahead of them wasn’t moving. It stood in the line of the trees behind Steve’s house.

It was staring down the clump of people on the other side of the backyard.

The air was still.

Billy’s ears were ringing.

He stared the thing down.

Its long fingers twitched.

Someone screamed.

And the thing charged.

It roared like nothing Billy had ever heard before. A shriek that seemed to vibrate Billy’s bones and tremble the earth underneath his feet.

It charged.

Sprinting forward on long thin legs, it loped with a grace that turned Billy’s stomach and made his knees wobble and threaten to give out.

Plant your feet.

It rang through his head, Steve’s voice from, some time Billy couldn’t remember. Or maybe Steve was just the little voice that commanded his bravery now.

Either way, he dug the balls of his feet into the cracked ground, and waited.

Don’t stop fighting.

He swung.

The ax clocked right into the side of the thing, barely cutting into its thick leathery skin, but it slowed it down.

Well, actually.

It made it change course from attacking the group as a whole, to honing in on Billy.

Which was less than awesome.

Billy wrenched the ax out of its tough body, thick, sticky black goo connecting the ax with its entry point as he drew it away.

He swung again, nearly hitting the same place.

The thing cried out, roaring over the sound of screaming and gunshots.

Hopper had his rifle trained on the flowered head of the one Billy was furiously chopping into like a tree.

There were two more, two he hadn’t noticed in his preoccupation with the one in front of him.

He didn’t know who was who. Which gunshot belonged to which gun, which shriek belonged to which animal.

He didn’t know if the cries of pain were from the awful beasts or the people in his camp. He was hoping the former.

He swung again. There was a sickening sound of the metal blade connecting with something solid. Something like bone.

Hopper shot it, once, twice in the head.

It was whining, making a high-pitched noise as it staggered about.

One last blow to the side of the thing, and it was finished.

The monster flopped onto the ground, dark liquid oozing out of it, its body nearly split in half where Billy had hammered it with his ax. A great gaping wound that showed sticky dark entrails.

Billy turned.

His brain was working in slow motion as he charged into the battle still raging.

He didn’t know how many of the things had arrived.

All he knew was taking them out.

His arms were sore from the force he was putting into each blow with his ax. His muscles threatened to give out at any moment.

Drive them back. We’re coming.

The thought was shoved into his head. He didn’t know where it came from but he believed it.

“Help is on the way!” He shouted to no one and everyone.

He had taken down two more demogorgons with the help of the others. One was missing its body, a petal head lolling on the ground, getting trampled on in the fight.

Steve had felt the demogorgon before Billy saw it.

It was an odd feeling, almost like it was a black hole sucking up everything he thought and felt before he could cling onto it.

It made him feel cold, and empty, and just like the Upside Down felt.

“We don’t have time!”

El was insisting on contacting the others. She was livid with them for abandoning Steve, but things were taking a turn for the small group trapped in that hellscape.

“Steve’s right. If there’s a demogorgon there, that means the Mind Flayer has gotten some strength back, wherever he is.”

Steve nodded at Will gratefully.

“But, what’s the idea? You two open the gate. Then what? We wait for those things to come through to our side?” Jonathan asked, kinda harshly, if you ask Steve.

Steve rubbed his eyes, his fists pressing against them so hard he was seeing odd shapes.

“No. I go through. I get them. I bring them back.” His head was a fucking mess. Billy was all over the place. Fear, desperation, and a horrible calm that only came when things looked like the end. Plant your feet, he thought, trying to get his feelings to Billy through the thin dimensional wall. Don’t stop fighting. “For the past few days, all I’ve been able to feel is somebody else’s fucking fear and this stupid stupid stubbornness and I know it’s Billy, and I know he’s in trouble. Like right now. The demogorgons are coming for them, and he’s so scared. He’s so fucking scared and he thinks he’s gonna die, and he’s trapped .”

He looked at each person individually, glaring at them all in the eye.

“We don’t have time.”

So it was decided.

He brought El outside, and stared into the shimmering water of the pool.

The pool where a demon came out and dragged Barbara to her death.

It gave him the fucking creeps. Well, it more gave him the severe anxiety, but there was something about it that made it seem like it was the best place to try and rip the fold between himself and Billy.

Drive them back. We’re coming.

He wanted Billy to have some hope. Something like a lifeline that would keep him fighting the monsters.

He had wrenched his nail bat out of the wall it was still planted in from a few nights ago, and stood next to El, ready to try.

“To be honest, I don’t know how to help you.” It was the only thing that scared him about this plan. “I don’t have the same powers as you. The telekin-the moving stuff around. I don’t know how to open this.”

She looked at him thoughtfully.

“In Chicago. Kali. When I’m angry my powers are better,” she took his hand. “Make me angry.”

Steve closed his eyes.

He tried to push Billy to the side, clinging onto the first bit of El he could sense.

Her anger was like a melted core running through her. Driving her in a lot of ways.

He grabbed onto it.

Papa. Everything he did to your mama. Being locked in isolation. Fights with Hopper. Being trapped in the cabin. Feeling alone and not knowing how to fix it. New kids at school being mean. Techs in the lab that treated us like rats. The smell of skin burning. Parents that called you a freak.

He didn’t know when he had stopped using El’s ready-made rage, and began siphoning his own straight into the beating heart of her fury.

His gut began to feel white-hot, and he could feel the blood dripping down his lip.

Lying to everyone. Being abandoned for the truth. Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.

Steve was livid.

He’s never felt an emotion consume him like this. Felt one feeling take over so completely it’s like there was nothing else in the world.

He opened his eyes.

There was blood flowing steadily from El’s nose, and he knew his was doing the same.

He could feel his heart pounding against his ribs, his body going into overdrive to divert all of his energy to his powers.

The rift glowed red through the clear pool water, splitting open like a seam on a well-worn shirt.

The burn on his arm ached, and he pushed into it.

He remembered being held down on his father’s desk. Remembers the cigar being forced against his skin, bubbling up and disfiguring the tattoo beyond recognition.

He remembers his father, this is for your own good, Steven. You’ll tell everyone you had an accident. People won’t question a burn like they will a tattoo.

Like no one would take one look at the quarter-sized mark and know what would make it.

He remembers getting the tattoo.

It was nearly the same process.

He was strapped down in a chair, his screams going ignored as the needle drove into his skin over and over, leaving a neat black number behind.

001

Number One.

The first in a series of children bred for something more, and beaten into acceptance.

His head felt like it could explode. He didn’t know what was going on around him, was barely aware of El’s sweaty hand in his, and the bright red light coming from the cracked bottom of the pool.

It was open.

Number One took a deep breath, and dived into the pool.

It was the little one that noticed it.

Billy had been trying to yell at him to get back inside, to keep himself out of harm’s way.

They had killed six demogorgons, and more were certainly coming.

The trees in the forest were rustling in a way they never did on their own.

The little one was pointing frantically, his eyes wide and scared.

Billy turned, and his blood ran cold.

Something was moving in the pool.

It was making the thick non-water slosh around dangerously, the dark liquid lapping over the sides and staining the concrete.

There were vines crisscrossing over the surface of the liquid, and Billy approached it carefully, hoping whatever was coming out would be trapped underneath them.

“This is the last fucking thing we need,” Hopper gritted out, cocking his rifle and aiming at the sludge.

And then Billy’s head felt like it had been cracked open.

He was blinded with pain and rage and

Help me, Hargrove!

He started swinging his ax wildly at the vines. Trying to break them apart enough for a body to fit through.

His heart thundered in his chest, and he dropped to his knees, ripping at the slimy black tendrils.

He shoved his left arm in.

It was like dousing his arm in ice. Like the liquid was made from the purest essence of cold.

He searched frantically with his hand, finding something solid and yanking with all his strength.

He had to put both arms in, grabbing hold of whatever he could, using his body weight as leverage to extract Steve from the cold.

He was limp when Billy finally got him out, but breathing heavily.

He opened his eyes, wiping his face free of the goop and blood covering him, and grinned at Billy.

“Told’ya we would get you out.”

They shepherd him inside, most of the gang speechless and struck dumb from the events of the past while.

Steve was given a change of almost clean clothes, and allowed to use some of their bottled water ration to clean the freezing black fluid from himself.

He wasted little time, and was down in the Upside Down version of his living room with everyone else.

“We can’t be long. El had to use a lot of strength to open it, but she’ll need her strength to close it, too.”

Nobody knew what in the fuck Steve was going on about.

Nobody but Hopper, that is.

He still had disgusting pool sludge all over his front from when he pulled Steve into a tight hug when he had gotten his bearings back from his journey through the rift.

“We can’t send people through that shit. It took all of Billy’s muscle to get you outta there.”

“So we drain it,” Steve insisted. “My parents drain it sometimes, I know how to do it.”

“I’ll keep watch. Make sure nothing tries to make itself known.”

Billy had barely wiped himself off.

He didn’t care anymore about how freezing that shit was, he just wanted to surge forward, and get back the fuck home.

Hopper studied them both.

“Bring weapons. Yell if you need help.”

Billy nodded once, and turned on his heel, following Steve out the back door.

Steve led him to a wooden shed on the side of the house. Billy had to clear the vines away from it before Steve could pry open the doors.

It was full of pool equipment, and it didn’t take long for Steve to locate a large grubby pump. He knocked it against the wall of the shed until the filter attachment clattered off, leaving bigger openings for the sludge to, hopefully, run through.

“Shit. This thing is electric. You got electricity?”

It was the first time Steve had really gotten a good look at Steve since being in the Upside Down.

He looked exactly as he had in the void place. His hair had a lot more disgusting black fluid in it, and he overall looked kinda shitty with the flecks of grime and blood on his face, but he looked bright. Alive. Strong.

“How did you do it? Take me to that place. Figure out we were here.”

Steve flushed. Billy had become overly aware that his face was completely covered under his bandana. Steve should cover his face.

He drew another one of his back pocket, and, he didn’t know why, but he tied it around Steve’s face.

Seriously, he could’ve just handed it to the guy and called it good there. But no. He had to set his ax on the ground, propped against his leg, wrap his arms around Steve’s shoulders, and tie the bandana like this was some intricate ritual.

All while Steve just stared at him with those fuckin’ eyes of his.

“It’s a long story.” Billy could barely hear Steve speak through the dirty cloth now covering his mouth and nose. “I’ll tell you when we’re back. When we’re safe.”

“I’m holding you to that, Harrington. Can’t have a guy poking around my dreams and shouting in my head without knowing his intentions.”

It was as close to flirting as Billy dared right now.

Right before they tried to journey between worlds.

“Good to know you heard me. I was trying to give you something of a pep talk.”

“Well, it worked. I would’ve just put my arms out and let those things rip me to shreds if I hadn’t have known.”

Billy didn’t know what Steve’s face was doing behind the cloth, but his eyes dropped, and Billy imagined that little cinch of his mouth that he had noticed Steve doing so much in that void place.

Billy meant it as a joke.

He really did.

And the Billy that was torn to bits in the mall wasn’t this Billy. Wasn’t the real Billy that was made out of real Billy materials and real Billy personality.

But it still made Steve feel queasy, thinking about his arms spread wide, black goop pouring out of his mouth and nose as the Mind Flayer decimated him.

“We’ve got a lot to talk about, Billy. Just, not now.”

And Steve turned off, hauling the pump back to the pool and taking calming breaths.

The pump sank without much effort, like there was some kind of gravitational pull at the bottom of the pool.

Steve had connected the thickest hose he could find, adn sent Billy off with the extension cord to find an outlet that didn’t spark and threaten fire.

Before no time, the pump was humming, and pushing black slime through the hose and onto the dead grass.

They didn’t need to get it all out, just as much as they could shove everyone through.

Steve closed his eyes, trying to reach El like he had Billy.

We had a hold up. Shouldn’t be long.

He could feel her on the other side.

She promised she would stay close enough to the rift that Steve could get in touch with her.

He could feel something slither down his spine, a wordless confirmation from her.

The liquid in the pool was slowly edging down, leaving a stain on the once-white walls of the pool.

“Gather everyone up. Tell ‘em to meet out here. Tell ‘em to leave it all behind.”

Billy was still staring at the edge of the forest when he commanded Steve.

It was odd, being in his house that’s not his house.

Everything was so. Wrong.

From the way the house seemed to be crumbling down, reduced to its studs in some areas, to the way it was still clearly his house. Paintings his father had bought. Elegant furniture his mother selected.

It was all there. Just under a thick layer of dirt and nightmares.

He thought idly about his bedroom, wondering if it would look like it did on his end. A little messy, the sheets typically rumpled and unmade.

He resisted the urge to wander upstairs, reminding himself he was on a mission.

“It’s time. Don’t bring anything. It’ll probably be ruined along the way.”

Everyone looked grave. Steve tried to smile at them, tried to push through some calmness to them all. He had forgotten Billy’s bandana was tied around his face. He sent one last wave of quiet confidence around the room, and led the group through the kitchen.

They had barely rounded the corner of the kitchen island when they heard a strangled yell from outside.

Steve put his head down, and sprinted through the shattered glass doors, skidding to a halt in the threshold.

Billy was staggering backward, his ax forgotten on the ground and his left hand was clinging wildly to his right shoulder.

His jacket was in tatters, thick blood dripping bright crimson down his arm, standing out like neon against the dark, dirty ground.

Steve didn’t feel himself moving forward. He didn’t feel his hands raising in front of him.

He just felt anger. The same anger from before that had ripped through him like a raging forest fire and straight into El.

The thing shrieked.

It backed away from Billy, twisting and writhing as its horrible screams filled the air, making the hair on the back of Steve’s neck stand on end.

Fierce fury was exploding out of him, and he grit his teeth against the pounding in his head.

“You don’t get to hurt him,” Steve barely barked out.

All went still, and the demogorgon snapped into pieces.

Steve felt like he could pass out where he stood.

He had never felt so wrung dry.

His vision was waning at the edges, and he felt an arm around his waist, coaxing him toward the red light now barely shining through a thin layer of slime in the pool.

“Hold your breath, Pretty Boy.”

Steve was limp against him, and Billy was doing his best to ignore the searing pain in his right shoulder as he held Steve close to his side. He had fumbled off both of their face coverings, moving clumsily through the pain of his injury.

He took one last breath, and jumped into the rip between worlds.

He plunged into the water, the crystal blue of a chlorinated pool.

It was the best feeling in the world.

Being covered and surrounded by clean. The heated water doing more to soothe Billy’s frayed nerves than anything in his life.

He kicked hard, swimming one-armed to the surface, Harrington a dead weight in his injured arm.

His head broke the water, and he took in deep lungfuls of clean, crisp air.

Someone was tugging at Steve, and Billy, for the first time in his fucking life, was glad to see those kids Max was constantly hanging around.

A woman Billy didn’t know was fawning over Steve, feeling for a pulse, and looking relieved when she felt his hot breath against her palm.

“There’s more coming,” Billy coughed.

He barely managed to get the words out, dripping muck and grime on the cement by the pool, when it felt as though he was hit from the side by a speeding train.

He buried his nose in bright orange hair, hugging Max back as tightly as he could manage.

He was exhausted, and feeling her there, alive and okay, was all that was keeping him standing.

“I thought, I mean, we all thought you were dead. We saw it. That thing killed you .” Billy realized, with a whole lotta horror, that she was crying. Sobbing outright into his dirty chest.

“Yeah, I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” How could they have seen when that monster just came at him?

“Oh, you’re bleeding.”

And if she only just realized he was hurt?

Max frog-marched Billy inside, to a very pale-looking Nancy Wheeler, sitting ready with a first aid kit.

Billy had to peel his clothes off his body, the fabric stuck to him like a second skin.

Nobody was speaking, and more of the people locked in the other place came traipsing into the room, fluffy towels wrapped around their shoulders.

Hopper was the last to come in, holding the woman tight to his side underneath the striped pool towel.

“Steve and El are closing it back up.”

There was a quiet murmur around the room.

Nancy patched up Billy’s shoulder, Max still stuck to his side like glue, the little boy from camp pasted to his other side.

He had no idea how much time had past when Steve finally came traipsing into the room with Max’s little friend, both of them sporting matching bloody noses.

Steve looked like shit.

His face was covered in blood, old and new, and he still had some of the gross not-liquid in his hair from the Upside Down.

But Billy doesn’t think he’s ever been happier to see someone in his life.

“I’m sure everyone has questions,” said the woman tucked against Hop’s side. El, Billy assumes, had taken her place on Hop’s other side, wrapping the towel around her shoulders as well.

The woman launched into a story that made Billy feel like his brain was oozing out of his ears.

A monster. One they had all met before. Playing body snatcher in their sleepy little town.

Apparently, one had been wearing a Billy meat-suit and wreaking havoc around town, which made Billy wanna throw up until he died.

Which, not-Billy, had died. Fuckin’ brutally. And in front of everyone. Which sure as shit explained why Max wouldn’t let go of his sweaty hand.

The story made Billy queasy, and he took to studying everyone in the room instead.

All the kids were there, even the one that had been following Steve around like a little shadow, but they were all glaring in the very much opposite direction of Steve.

Steve himself was pressed almost against the wall, looking like he’d collapse if the wall weren’t supporting him.

“What’s up with the cold shoulder?” Billy muttered to Max.

“They’re mad at Steve right now. He’s been lying to us all.”

It was all he got out of her before everyone started moving around.

The woman, Joyce Byers, he’s learned, had finished her story, and the group from the Upside Down had begun clamoring for rides home, or maybe something to eat.

Billy just saw Steve manage to slip away before he followed him.

It took some doing, shaking off the little one, who still wasn’t speaking, and looked ready to burst into tears when Billy told him to stay behind in the living room.

But Janet Holloway took the kid’s other hand and gently led him back into the living room.

Billy nodded at her, and sped up the stairs.

It was weird, being in Harrington’s actual room.

It was messy, and looked like Steve spent most of his time here tossing clothes on the ground or twisting up in his bed covers like a tornado.

But it was oddly comforting.

Being in Steve’s real room, and not some perverse dirty copy.

Steve was standing, facing the bed, peeling his borrowed jacket from his shoulders and leaving it there on the floor.

“I never said thank you.”

Steve startled at Billy’s voice.

“Yeah. No problem.” Steve’s tone was light and airy, but Billy heard him sniff.

“Max said the little shitbirds are mad at you. Something about you lying.”

Steve turned around, giving Bily a watery smile.

“It’s a long story.”

“I got time.”

So Steve told him.

About the lab.

About the experiments.

About the torture.

He explained that he had rules. Never making anyone feel something they already didn’t. Never altering someone’s opinion of, or feelings towards him.

Billy grit his teeth as he imagined Wheeler giving Steve a hard time about that.

Steve was silent for a moment, not looking at Billy.

“It’s okay if you hate me. I mean, everyone does now.”

“You'd be able to feel if I hated you. You and those powers of yours just saved my life, Pretty Boy. I’m pretty sure I’m feeling the farthest thing from hatred just about now.”

It was as close to a confession as Billy would let himself get.

But if Steve knows what he’s feeling at any given moment, then that means that he knows, and he didn’t-

“Quit it. Insecurity isn’t a good look on you.”

Steve sounded tired, and he flopped back onto his bed, staring at the ceiling with his arms out.

At first, it didn’t sit quite right with Billy.

He had barely even begun to identify what he was feeling when Steve swooped in and just point blank told him what the emotion was.

Billy spent nearly all of his time being a big fuckin’ facade.

He tried his very best to hide any emotional tell from anyone around him.

He prided himself on being a chameleon. That nobody would ever truly know how he felt in any given situation.

And here’s pretty boy Steve Harrington. Who is feeling just as, if not more, strongly as Billy is.

But, it takes out all the parts of emotions that Billy hates dealing with.

Showing them. Talking about them.

He’d never once had to grapple with the words to explain how he feels to Steve.

Steve would just.

He’d know.

And god, that’s kind of a nice idea.

Billy sat down gently on the bed.

“Alright.”

Steve’s head popped up to stare incredulously at Billy.

Billy just grinned at him.

#this fic is named after kind of a throwaway line in rocky horror but thats my favorite movie and i thought it fits :)#i worked so hard on this and i'm really proud pls like it i'm begging #yikes writes #yikes gets pathetic in the notes #harringrove #harringrove big bang #harringrove big bang 2021 #harringrovebigbang2021 #harringrovebigbang #also look at me writing something in-universe for fucking once #steve harrington #billy hargrove #powers!steve #experiment!steve #i hate using the ! like that but whatever

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dumdumsun · 3 years

Text

Forever and Never

A/N: Thank you so much for taking the time to read this series ❤️ I’ve had so much fun writing this and am very proud of and excited for it, I can’t wait to see how people react to this. Um I know there are plenty of warnings for a first chapter, but I promise it’s not as depressing as it sounds. It’s just that this story can deal with heavy stuff sometimes, so I just wanna let you know that. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

Warnings: mentions of marijuana, death, sexual assault and mental illness

Word Count: 3194

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One: Hi, My Name Is

“So, what was your time in Pennsylvania like?”

“Uh… I’d have to say it was the best… and worst time of my life.”

“Best and worst, huh? Would you like to elaborate?”

“Well, I, uh… I mean, I don’t really know how to, like… explain it. It’s a lot. I don’t even know where to begin… Or how I would even word it or anything.”

“Well, you told me you like television and movies, right? You know those shows and movies where the main character tells the plot as, like, their life story? Maybe you could try that.”

“You aren’t… You aren’t serious, are you?”

“You’ll know when I’m joking, trust me.”

“Oh… Okay, then. Well, um…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hi? My name is… (Y/N)? This is my life story, I guess.

So, if we’re going to talk about my life in Pennsylvania, we’re going to have to start with my life in Kansas, first. I had two loving parents that soon turned into one at the too-young age of nine years, when my mom died. I remember her as one of the sweetest people I’ve ever known. She had this way about her that was so carefree, yet she gave a shit about everything. You could never pin a thought to her because she never let you in on what was bouncing around in her head. She was stubborn and patient and lively. I miss her so much. I don’t usually think about her unless it’s a particularly hectic day, which I then resort to talking to the ring I wear on my left pinky finger at all times. Wasn’t anything special, just some cheap ring with a little emerald inside she found at a thrift store. It used to be hers and she’d wear it on the exact same finger. My dad said she’d want me to have it.

My dad is my favorite person. He isn’t the most… present, though. His mind is never set in one place, always racing with hundreds of unrelated thoughts. It’s why when you finally drag him back into reality, he can’t repeat a single sentence spoken to him. Regardless, he’s all I had for a long time. I never really learned what he does for a living, but I just know that it forces him to leave town sometimes. Well, more like all the time. Before my mom died, it was easy for him to leave for weeks on end, but when he became my only guardian, he didn’t really know what to do with me. It was like he completely forgot how to take care of a child, his child. When I turned twelve, that was when he started travelling again. I would then be home by myself for a month to eight weeks. In these times, I had no choice but to learn to cook for myself, go grocery shopping and housekeep. I became pretty independent at a young age. It wasn’t like Dad left me totally alone, though. He would call every two or three days and he sent me two hundred dollars every two weeks. Like I said, I don’t know what my dad did, but he was definitely getting paid. At the end of eighth grade, Dad had a particularly long trip to go on, so he sent me to Pennsylvania, where his sister lived.

Pennsylvania was partially the best part of my life because of my family. My Aunt Pam was like a second mother to me. She was never able to have another child after my cousin Jacob and she’s always wanted a daughter of her own, so that’s what I was to her. The daughter she could never have. I’d often find her staring at me with a bittersweet smile on her face, watching my every move with a sense of pride, but when I’d ask her what was wrong she’d only brush it off as her admiring me. My Uncle David didn’t necessarily view me as a daughter, but he certainly treated me like one. When he wanted to spend time with Jacob, he included me as well. We’d usually go on drives around the town, but I always fell asleep to the soft and serene music that filled the car from the radio. On the weekends, we would head down by the lake and spend hours learning to fish.

I hated it, but I couldn’t complain. It gave me a sense of certainty to live with a father figure who didn’t leave me alone every two or three months.

Jacob was like a brother to me. He’s a year older than me, which, to him, meant that he had to protect me at all costs. I always assumed it was because he always wanted a younger sibling, and I was the closest he was ever going to get to that. I always felt as though I’d never be able to equal Jacob on an intellectual level because he practically had the IQ of Albert Einstein himself. I felt inferior to him until I found out how much of a joy he really was. On the weekends, he would beg me to accompany him in a movie marathon. I learned that Jacob was a huge fan of Tim Burton (his favorite was Beetlejuice). He’s the only cousin I’ve ever known. Mom and Dad didn’t like each other’s families, so I never met anyone besides this little family. Moving in with them meant that they’d have this huge burden on them.

Yes, I almost forgot to mention that I struggle with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, or OCD. It just means that my mind is flooded with these crazy and unnecessary thoughts and so my behavior is affected by them. For example, if I were to blink and felt I put more pressure on my left eye than my right, I would have to repeatedly wink with my right eye until they felt balanced. Sometimes I can’t enter a room until I have inhaled eight times. If I scratch an itch on my left knee, I have to scratch the right one in the exact same place. At the sink, even if I don’t use both knobs, I have to hold both in my hands. And when I turn them off, I often have to check about four times before I am certain they’re turned off all the way. I know, it sounds tiring. Just imagine being on my end, having it be a part of who you are. I can’t do anything to stop it, I wish I could. I was always afraid to make friends because of this. If I couldn’t be balanced, I’d freeze, and I mean actually stop whatever I’m doing and stand still, until my body felt as if I were balanced once again. Who wouldn’t make fun of me for this?

Apparently, no one gave a shit about it. After moving to Pennsylvania, I made quite a name for myself at school. Literally. My name was Zip. I have no fucking clue how that ridiculous name came to be, but that’s what I went by day after day. One could say I was considered popular, but it wasn’t like I actually spoke to anyone. When it came to extracurriculars, I only participated in theatre. I never was part of the cast, just the stage manager. Secretly, I wanted so badly to audition and be a part of the magic they created on that stage. Not to boast or anything, but I had the talent and potential to be a starring role. But I could never bring myself to break out of my shell. Nonetheless, being stage manager still got me quite the attention. Everyone was always so nice to me, so I felt a little bad for not considering any of them as friends. That was until I met Dina.

Dina was new to our school sophomore year. She had this sort of light to her that attracted the pesky moths that were our dull and boring school body. We had the same social status in school. People liked our personalities, so we were well-liked and accepted without doing much to prove ourselves worthy. She was sweet and compassionate and so fun. I didn’t mean to become her friend, but she was so welcoming, despite being the newcomer. We became close friends, but not best friends. We already had people filling those roles.

Dina’s best friend was Sydney Novak. Sydney moved to Brownsville around the same time as Dina, so the two became best friends quickly, but Sydney wasn’t very popular at all. She was shy and introverted, but I thought she was nice enough. I liked her and thought she was a pretty cool person. We weren’t necessarily friends, we were just well acquainted simply because we were both close with Dina. The transitive property, if you would. I just wish we could’ve talked more, our relationship was pretty much nonexistent.

Speaking of nonexistent relationships, let’s talk about Richard Berry. I honestly don’t want to even think about him, but he played a role in my life that was too vital to just offhandedly mention. For some odd reason, Ricky Berry was absolutely in love with me. It was so obvious to everyone except for me. Sophomore year, he expressed his love through the most arrogant and cheesiest of pick-up lines and compliments. I wasn’t so easily won over, if you could guess. I tried being good friends with him, but he’d always fuck it up when he tried to initiate intimacy. I didn’t want to hold hands with him in the halls or receive “friendly” cheek kisses. I’m not what you would call affectionate, especially towards people I’m not close to. It’s just never been comfortable for me. Junior year, everyone around me was buzzing with excitement when they heard Ricky was going to ask me to be his girlfriend. The cheerleaders, who got to know him through his high school football career, constantly pestered me with reasons as to why I would be so lucky to date The Richard Berry. Granted, he became less of a dick junior year, so I thought, Why not?, and accepted. Being in a relationship with Ricky was the most one-sided… anything I had ever been a part of. He was undeniably enamored with me, but I couldn’t find it in myself to reciprocate those feelings. He would show me off to his family and friends like a trophy, but if someone asked me if I had a boyfriend I’d go, “I mean, yeah. I guess”, so not a very healthy relationship. It also didn’t help that Ricky knew nothing about boundaries.

One night, we were in his bedroom, studying for a science test. Ricky wasn’t focused at all and kept trying to kiss and cuddle with me. I let him for awhile, but then he took my book from me and set it on the ground beside his bed. He suggested we have sex right then and there. Now, I was never a prude and definitely didn’t wait to have sex for the first time, but I never wanted Ricky to be my first. He hadn’t earned enough of my trust to even touch me suggestively. So, of course I refused. Ricky only took that as me teasing him, so he advanced, nearly forcing himself on me. Using all my might, I shoved him off of the bed. He stood to his feet, utterly confused, but I only gathered my things and left his house. He tried following after me, but I ignored him until he turned and went back into his home. The next day at school, he was holding me and kissing me and showing me off to everyone like he always did. As if nothing happened between us the night before. It was difficult to do, since he was so inconsiderate, but I managed to break up with him. He tried to deny that we were Splitsville for about a week, but everyone caught wind of our break-up. Once everyone knew about it, it became true for him. I never really felt comfortable with being intimate or open with guys after that.

Besides with Stanley Barber, of course. Stan was my best friend in the entire world. I told only my deepest, darkest secrets to him. And he told me his. The only things we really had in common were our lack of mothers and our hideous bacne. Stan lived a few houses down and was eager to get to know me a week after I moved in. I’d never met anyone in my life like Stan. He was so awkward, but loveable. I don’t know, I guess he reminded me of my mom. The way he didn’t care, but he so clearly did. Whenever I wanted to talk about something that was difficult to voice, we’d smoke to ease the tension. Of course, this wasn’t how we always communicated. Despite his nervous stuttering, he was easy to open up to. Stan provided a sort of security in my life. He was never going to leave me and that put me at ease when hanging out with him, which we did regularly. I don’t know when exactly I developed a crush on him, but I never wanted it to surface in our bond. He was to never know. It was just a stupid crush, right? He was a guy who wasn’t family and was so unbelievably caring towards me. It was bound to happen, but that didn’t mean he had to be aware of it. Though, it was a little hard to keep such a secret when we’d both made out twice already. The first time was while I was dating Ricky, the kiss was very awkward and ended after about a minute and a half. The second kiss was just half a week after my breakup. That time, we’d both known what we were doing. And I may be a little biased, but you couldn’t have even thought to fake the passion in that makeout session. We never talked about either of those kisses and remained friends both times. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me that we didn’t become anything more afterwards. It was for the best, though, because two weeks before spring break, my dad returned from his job in Georgia and moved me to Kansas again. The move was so abrupt that I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to anyone besides my family.

My life in Kansas for the second time was something I’d never want to experience ever again. Since it was a little late in the year, I finished junior year online. For some unexplained reason, my dad had us get new phones and new numbers, so I lost all contact with my friends. I had no one to talk to and it wasn’t like my dad paid much attention to me. I remember spending every waking moment with him when I was younger, talking or playing games or watching television. It used to be so fun being his daughter, but when we moved back to Kansas, I just felt like this huge burden in his life. Our relationship was strained and he clearly had other priorities in his life. Like whatever he left back in Georgia. I’d see his phone ring and the same number from that state would pop up before he’d leave the room and privately talk with whoever. It wasn’t the secrecy that was off-putting to me, it was the fact that it was so much more important to him. Once again, I was ignored by the one person in my life I wanted to spend the most time with. So, you can imagine the joy I felt when Dad had to go back to Georgia for work. I had been attending public school for my senior year and left not even a full month in. It didn’t bother me, I had no friends and nothing to leave behind. Mid-September was when I moved back to Brownsville with Aunt Pam. Everyone accepted me right back in. Especially my classmates. As I walked the halls I heard whispers like,

“Oh, my god, is that Zip?”

“Zip’s back! Where’d she even go?”

“I thought she died.”

The only person I really wanted to notice me was Stan. I missed him so much, I even got into his favorite band to have something to remember him by. I remember the day I got back to my aunt’s house. Jacob had picked me up from the airport and was driving me to the house. He was attending community college, but was still living with his parents. As we drove, he tapped his index fingers rhythmically to the shitty pop music that played on the radio. “So, what are you excited about for senior year?”

“Not much, I just missed Dina and Stan. Theatre, too. I wonder how they’ve been doing without me.” I chuckled. Jacob huffed in amusement.

“But you didn’t miss Ricky?”

“Fuck, Jake, you know I didn’t miss him for a second.” I frowned, waving my hand in dismissal. My cousin tauntingly laughed at me. Had he actually known about what happened between Ricky and I, he wouldn’t have teased me. In fact, Ricky wouldn’t even be alive that day if Jacob found out. No one knew about the incident, not even Stan.

Pulling up in front of the house, we got out of the car and headed to the trunk to pull out my bags. I tried carrying them in, but Jacob insisted that he do all the heavy lifting and simply asked me to carry my backpack and close the trunk. I did what little I was asked of and headed to the front door to greet my aunt and uncle inside, but stopped. In the corner of my eye, I saw movement from the Barber residence. Turning, my eyes locked on Stanley, who was frozen beside his car. He was wearing his work uniform and staring at me with the most bewildered expression on his face. It was like he thought himself to be hallucinating my existence. Smiling, I simply waved at him before walking back inside. When he got home from work that night, he headed over to my house and knocked on the door. I answered with a grin on my face. “Stan!”

“If it isn’t the famous Zip, showing back up in my life.”

“Ugh, do not call me that.” I rolled my eyes playfully before bringing him into a hug. He wrapped his arms around my waist and rested his chin at the top of my head. I would’ve stayed there all night if I could’ve. When Stanley pulled away, my heart hollowed and a pit formed within my stomach. I felt unfinished, unbalanced. And I hate imbalance. He asked if I wanted to hang out and I accepted his offer. All we did was lay on his floor, listen to music and get high, but in that moment, that’s all I needed.

Bloodwitch, a joint, and Stan laying by my side.

—————————————

Taglist: @melinda-hargreeves @sapphicsyn @stqnley @lonely-kermit

#i am not okay with this #ianowt #stanley barber #stanley barber x reader #wyatt oleff #wyatt oleff x reader #i am not okay with this x reader #ianowt x reader #ianowt fanfic #ianowt stanley barber #forever and never

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bookwyrminspiration · 3 years

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waitwait so ive been thinking of these ships (both platonic and romantic) for a little while and...

keefe/marella and keefe/dex/biana???

for keefe/marella:

i feel like they'd vibe with each other. they're both dealing with things intricately tied with their identity but still out of their control (marella's pyrokinesis and keefe's legacy) and i feel like they might find some common ground in that.

and marella is very observant, and very reeled-in, but she tells it like it is and if keefe is off getting extremely reckless ideas (like running away again) she wouldnt hesitate to call him out on it, and to sit him down and work with it. and keefe is a very easy-going person to most people, and he wouldnt judge marella for her ability or for her mom's accident. they would be good for each other, i think.

and another weird thing they have in common is that they've both been personally mentored by fintan, which i feel like is something most others wouldnt understand and something else they could bond over (it's all about the complicated relationships with authority figures, huh)

for keefe/dex/biana:

i just think they're neat.

- pyro

(also, yes, i am aware, how dare i put marella in a straight ship. (not directed at you quil specifically more so just. yeah))

hello pyro!! it's super cool to see we were on about the same page with some of the keefe/marella reasoning, as I intentinoally didn't read fully through this one before answering the other (I didn't want to influence my answer and just repeat what I'd read from you). yet we ended up with similar ideas!

for keefe/marella:

I know they're both seen in canon and fanon as these loud, boisterous, feisty personalities, but I think any relationship between the two of them would be the calm, quiet, understanding kind. the way Marella was reserved when talking about her mom feels more defensive than offensive when it comes to her personal life and problems, similar to how Keefe avoids talking about himself by literally not talking by shifting the attention to another (usually back to Sophie). I think they'd have a relationship that was very respectful of each others' boundaries, the kind where your partner sees you struggling and if you ask them not to pry then they'll leave you alone about it (as opposed to comforting your partner about it and giving it attention, which is also a valid way to deal with things).

and yes!! Marella is observant and we should pay attention to that more! She didn't just accidentally learn all the gossip in the Elvin world at the tender age of 11/12. she knows things and has opinions on them and isn't afraid to share them upfront--she told Sophie to her face as soon as they met that she didn't like girls and why, to use as one example. Keefe, on the other hand, isn't dense, but he's more of a stubborn, this is the only way I can do things kind of person--tunnel-vision, so I could see them balancing each other out. Keefe has the focus and narrows things down, but Marella makes sure it isn't too extreme and that other options are given the attention they deserve.

oo I hadn't even remembered the Fintan thing. Despite Keefe not being a pyrokinetic, I'm positive there are elements of his mentoring style that can be applied to both of them. Also just the experience of having close, one-on-one (or nearly one-on-one) contact with someone with such an awful reputation. Of working with someone you hate and playing nice for the sake of knowledge, possibly compromising your own values for a gain that others might not see as worth it. Neither of them really wanted to, but were put in a situation where they didn't really have a choice. Keefe could've left the Neverseen, yes, but that was more complicated and risky than dealing with those lessons. Marella didn't have to agree to the training, but she had to make the hard decision and realization that she could easily loose control and that there was literally no one else she could turn to.

I think that's a recurring theme for the both of them: not really having choices in their life, just the illusion of them. We can come up with a million different options for either of them, but the fact of the matter is hardly any of them are gonna be better, more feasible, or something they'd actually do.

for keefe/dex/biana:

There's so many elements to this!! I'll just briefly touch on a few because your ask was mostly about the previous ship.

Keefe and Biana have that element of childhood friends and knowing each other for so much longer than most of the others. They watched each other grow up and manifest and knew each other before everything went downhill. I think they could have that bittersweet feeling of connecting over the past to build a better future.

Dex and Keefe have this positivity that i've talked about before, just this enthusiastic support for each other. Keefe loves Dex's ability and the things he can create, and he himself has said that they'd make a great pair, and unstoppable due capable of causing mass chaos. And Dex doesn't really have anyone else that casually supportive of him--it different from his parents (specifically his dad) who saw it as evidence that Dex was amazing and used it to shove it in the faces of the people who'd doubted him. Not that that's bad, it's just different. And Keefe has a whole hot of drama and discomfort going on with Fitz and Tam, so it's nice to think of him with someone without a bunch of complicated history and just like a friends to lovers arc.

and then there's Dex and Biana, two people who are historically invisible to the rest of their group, working from the background yet playing essential roles. I don't know if I've talked about them before but I think they could really vibe well together. They're both siblings (in different directions but similar nonetheless) and had to force themselves to be included. they're also both in Team Valiant, which could be an opportunity to bond. One thing I keep thinking is that Dex being around Biana more often might boost his confidence, just seeing the way she carries herself, but I don't want to get distracted with that.

overall: these are both excellent ships!! there's so much to them to explore and I think the connections you've made are really cool, so thank you for letting me add my own thoughts and opinions!!

also I think it's funny how I said id be brief and then wrote three more paragraphs

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fictionfreakazoid · 3 years

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That post you made about our culture as lgbtq+ POC and liberalism/modernism is chef’s kiss. I must add I was very disappointed when I first saw the Marjan Muslim woman arranged marriage spoiler, because as a Muslim woman myself these tropes never reflect our true irl experiences. The resolution tonight was surprisingly somewhat not all bad to me. All we see in US tv shows is how inferior our practices are and how they can be ‘cured’ by their modernism for us to be truly happy. Yes some of our practices are problematic but it’s hard to just toss out our family who like Carlos phrased “are good people but not perfect “ for found family without the struggle of needing both.

I am a Biracial, Muslim and engaged to a woman. My parents know and we have had dinner with them. My mom is more welcoming (she is white) and my dad (he is black) is always happier to avoid any conversation about it. I literally stopped wearing a hijab at work & Ṣalāt al-Jumuʿah after the Nice attacks but almost everyday before work, during lunch etc I cry about it to a point where I want to quit because I am not fulfilled. Yes I don’t get to be a target but I want to celebrate my religion the way I please.That conflict phase is hard and most media gloss over it like it’s empowerment (remember Nadia removing her hijab in Elite?) .

Do they (911 LS) need to research more on Muslim and Islam representation? Absolutely!!S1 was very cringe but today I was left feeling somehow hopeful to give them a chance. I will probably get a lot of backlash for this but couldn’t they just hire a Muslim actress or consult with IRL Muslims?

I flesh it out because you gave me the stage lol, Again sorry for the bad English.

Salamu Alaikum sister! First of all, thank you for sharing, and I will always support you as my fellow Muslim and I’m glad there’s another lgbt+ POC Muslim watching the show! Also, I actually didn’t watch Elite because I heard about that specifically and I didn’t want to go through that painful “representation” again. This is kinda long lol sorry I like writing and I have a lot of feelings about this, so I’ll put a read more here

I didn’t see any spoilers of the arranged marriage before the episode, so watching the episode my dread just grew and grew and unfortunately materialized. However, a few years ago I became friends with a hijabi in my college class and she informed me that she was engaged in an arranged marriage. Obviously, this shocked me at first but then she further explained that it had been more of a matchmaking process where her parents showed her people, and then she got to choose. I was still uncomfortable with this because obviously she was still pressured to get married, but my mom talked to me about it later and was like well, how else are (Muslims) going to find a suitable spouse in a halal way if not by matchmaking or happening to find a person? And I have to agree that at least that form of “arranged marriage” sounded somewhat reasonable if it was truly still a consensual choice by both spouses. However, the form of arranged marriage they showed in the episode was strongly different than that and literally proved to be problematic in the episode. I know Muslims from several different countries, I know my relatives who literally live in the Middle East: none of them still do that or even did that generations ago and honestly, the practice isn’t that Islamic either if the choice to opt out wasn’t apparently given to them from the start, which it didn’t seem to be in Marjan and Salim’s case. Arranged marriage in that form is definitely part of some cultures, but not, to my knowledge, a part of the Muslim nor Middle Eastern/Arab culture at large other than the clearly and undoubtedly unislamic practices of forced child marriages. So clearly they did not actually base the arranged marriage on actual Muslim culture, although arranged marriages do still happen in our culture, I personally do not know of it being common in our Muslim, particularly Muslim American, culture to be in that form so my suspicion is that they really just heard that Muslim communities still have arranged marriage without any context and tried to put it in the show and act all woke about it. I know that Marjan’s actress isn’t Muslim (which is also problematic, I definitely agree with you) and I doubt they either consult any actual Muslims nor is it likely that they have any Muslims in their writing team, and if they do they will only choose the most liberal of their opinions that fit their ideas of liberalism/modernism and escaping stereotypes and that’s too much of a portion that they’re including in the show.

To continue to the part of the arranged marriage arc that I actually found reasonable: Marjan’s ultimate rejection of Salim. Despite some of the problematic ways they showed it, Marjan did strongly and visibly believe in Islam and its practices and was proud to be Muslim and defended it when the squad questioned any aspects of it. She also made it clear that she personally believed in it/had her personal conviction in Islam and that it wasn’t just something she pretended to follow along for the sake of pleasing her parents, which some Muslims, unfortunately, end up doing, particularly in this generation with exposure to “modernism”, which I still respect because that’s their personal journey and only Allah can judge and they as well as anyone else might end up coming back to Islam ultimately. Also, that can show that they weren’t really taught enough about the beauty of the true religion and not conservative/traditionalist propaganda of Islam, which is not just spread to nonMuslims through Islamophobic media but also spread to poorly Islamically educated Muslims ourselves, to have strong enough convictions for it, but again, their personal journey and I still respect them because true Islam teaches that you respect anyone even nonMuslims and that you always leave the door open and just try to educate and be a good example. Marjan seems to follow that same mindset as well because she is shown to be very accepting of others and their beliefs even when they don’t match hers, she just respects them and makes her boundaries clear. And to tie that back to the main point - that’s exactly what she did with Salim. Salim showed multiple signs of not truly adhering to Islamic values, first the alcohol drinking (which I also strongly admired the visible discomfort she had for that), the side relationship and then ultimately kissing her. She respected his personal decision to do those things, but she ended it when it became apparent that he expected her to do the same or at least tolerate it if she loved him. What I admired is that she put her foot down and said that if she not only couldn’t be in a commitment with someone who didn’t keep their commitments (which even plenty, if not most, of nonMuslims agree with) but also no longer had the same values or a tolerable amount of the same (Islamic) values she held. That along with other subtle signs of Marjan’s personal conviction to Islam are what make me still have at least some hope for the representation. Despite the terrible form of the arranged marriage they showed, they still showed that Marjan sticks to her beliefs and isn’t ashamed of them and is even willing to defend them, she doesn’t conform to just abandoning everything because she loved Salim, which is what the modernism ideology wants to promote. I also liked how they showed that it wasn’t an easy decision to make either - it was a clear choice for her, but it still hurt her and I like that they didn’t just shame her for that like certain modernist ideologies would’ve wanted to portray her situation (particularly because it would further Islamophobia, which let’s be honest is usually the goal for most nonMuslim media): either you abandon everything for love or you cut ties for things that you can’t agree with and feel nothing because your beliefs are strong. That ideology is so wrong and I’m glad the show portrayed that: it’s a struggle, and it hurts. I’m glad that they showed that struggle with a Muslim POC instead of just being like “Oh well her sticking to Islam makes the decision really easy and it wasn’t even a struggle because *shameful tone* religion means a lot to her, and they easily could’ve gotten away with that, but thankfully they at least did that for us.

I also really liked that they showed a similar struggle with Carlos, but instead of Islam, it was more about the struggle of being lgbt+ and also the love for your family despite their intolerance. (Personal) I literally went through an almost identical scenario to Carlos - I (regrettably) came out (as biromantic asexual) to just my dad and even though I specifically told him not to he later told me that he outed me to my mom. My dad was supportive and said that God made me this way and that true Islam says it’s ok, and although right now I’m still kind of uncomfortable talking about it with him because some of his opinions or understandings are kind of problematic/misunderstandings/stereotypes (i mean he literally outed me to my mom and who knows who else when I told him not to), but my mom... he literally told me she thought it was haram (not Islamically allowed) and that was the last time I discussed anything lgbt+ with my dad and I never even mentioned it to my mom myself. But they’re my parents, I love them and all my relatives and Islam, they’re all so important to me, but I’m also not ashamed of being lgbt+ and it’s a part of who I am. I’m in the closet in real life other than my parents and my personal best friend who is also lgbt+, but I wish I didn’t have to be. I struggle with it every day, I don’t feel safe or secure enough to be out, those words TK chose specifically struck a chord with me. Not only do I physically feel unsafe about being out, I know that despite being supportive of lgbt+ historically before colonialism, the Islamic community, even my family, would not only not be supportive of me now, they’d also be one of the sources of my fear if I came out. I love Islam, I love the community and my family and I know they have their problems, some of which are really serious, but they still have a lot of amazing qualities and they have helped shaped who I am. (End personal)

You know what’s ironic about the message modernism sends out against lgbt+ POC and also Muslims (particularly POC Muslims)? They say that being lgbt+ is part of who you are and you shouldn’t be ashamed of it, yet they promote that you should abandon your ideology, culture and family if they don’t support you, even though those can also be important parts of who you are. I know some people are forced/coerced to make a choice between at least some of those things because of safety and intolerance, and I respect that and my heart is out to all those who have been forced to do so, I easily could’ve been one of them. I know that they struggled with this stuff too, I know they likely still struggle with it. Modernism can’t make that struggle go away, as much as it tries to hide it under an easy choice. Our ideologies, our cultures and our families aren’t personal hobbies that you can toss out at any point because they have problems, modernism can’t and shouldn’t always try to “fix” them, they might have problems but a lot of times modernism tries to “fix” them without context and only out of disrespectful ignorance and prejudice, it’s not empowerment. Our ideologies, our cultures and our families have value not only in general but also to us personally, and just saying that they should be easy sacrifices is disrespectful. Both sides usually make it seem as though we can easily choose only one and can only choose one, but they’re usually both important to us. Neither of them are easy to give up, they’re a part of us, we don’t want to choose between them and we struggle with that every day.

On a more personal note to you, sister, I understand your fear of publicly wearing the hijab, it’s like the fear I have of being out. I’m so sorry you don’t feel safe enough to show your Muslim pride through your hijab as well. Allah (swt) knows you still love Islam and are not ashamed and are considering your safety, he will always take that into account. I support you and if you ever want to talk more about it, feel free! I know it sucks to have your family not really fully support your lgbt+ identity and all the aspects of it including your fiancee, who I hope makes you as happy as you deserve and respects you and all who you are. You are valid and I hope the struggle gets easier for us and things improve in the future inshAllah. Feel free to reach out any time, and let me know what you think!

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kisskissbanggang · 4 years

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@starxblossom - entirely overdue, thank you for your patience

Alright below the cut is literally just me responding to some fic feedback by my darling Rae it is just

too long

to not put under a read more so move along

Let me set the scene: I woke up entirely too late this morning, spending the previous night - more appropriately, early dawn - mourning the fact that my laptop crashed in the middle of me playing Stardew Valley. Rolling out of bed, I knew what I planned to get done today, but after such a sour night, the ball got rolling pretty late. Nevertheless, I’m more than glad to be overly-opinionated about something, if only you still want to hear what I have to say - otherwise feel free to ignore this 😂

Barely bothering with an outfit, I merely threw on my fluffy robe, slipped on the pair of glasses that I need, yet refuse, to wear more consistently, and tied my hair up in that half-effort pony tail that I only wear when I have a long day of analysing to do. By this point, I have powered through four cups of English Breakfast (because I am trying so hard to kick my coffee habits), and I’m overdue for my fifth one.

The sun sets quite fast these days; or maybe I’ve just been waking up too late. But by the time I’ve powered through most of the list - my reading device has signalled its need to be recharged so I decided to hold off on the last two on the list (Prowl and The Sabotage of Simkung House) for the following day - the sun has set and the street lamps glow orange within the misty winter evening.

I’ve always liked your writing - still very much do. And for a long time, I can admit that I was envious of how well you can write, how well you understand your characters and their motivations, and how aware you are of what’s happening in the story from start to finish. I used to punish myself for not being nearly as good as you. I say all of this not to guilt you, but to express my humbled gratitude, that you would turn to me and consistently seek out my opinion. So I tried to be constructive, not just bombard you with well-deserved praises, but also see the work objectively too.

SO let me set the scene. Over the past few months, I have sent you every single thing I write because I’m a glutton for feedback and validation, but also because I found something so touching and forward in how you found me in the first place. You came to me, said you enjoyed my work, only to find out that you’re a terrific and talented writer and human being in general in your own right? I value your take on all art so, so much, and I’ve figured I’ve been greedy on numerous occasions, but I also treasured your critique when it’s difficult to do that to a friend’s work.

So here’s where I’m at. I worked from home today, and this morning starts out fine enough until I deal with a very agitated client on the phone. I’m dour as I sip on the cold brew boba I made this morning in a fit of restless self-criticism, and check my inbox on a whim because I know I’m terrible at keeping up and see your feedback on not just one or two, but nearly EVERYTHING that you hadn’t caught up on yet.

As an added note, I also don’t wear my glasses nearly as much as I should. They spend much more time on top of my head than they should.

Now, shall we begin?

Standby

What I like most about Standby, and really all of your writings, is that it often calls to question, something of a moral dilemma. In Standby, the dilemma is clear, ‘is love allowed to exist in the professional work environment?’, but not just that, there’s also the factor of Chan being an idol and MC being a staff member. Already, there are plenty layers of politics(?) at play here - public vs private, media/celebrity status, gender inequality, etc. Looking over my notes [yes, I wrote physical notes as I read each piece lmao I have too much time now that I’m on semester break], I reserve so many high praises to Standby for constructing a story well, start to finish, and for highlighting the power play effectively through their physical relationship - the sex isn’t just thrown there, it’s an intentional device to shed light to the motivations and the personalities of these characters. It’s not just porn with plot, as you sometimes jokingly claim your writings to be, it’s porn and plot. I’d say other examples of this would be the Keep Away and Asking For It series.

Playing on this same idea, I’m very fond of Chan and MC’s dynamic - the naive and the hyper-anxious, or better, the idealist and the realist. We’ve all been both at some point in our relationships, so I feel like it’s almost too easy to empathise with both, especially when the stakes are so goddamn high. And because these characters are so fleshed out - as in we understand what’s in it for them - every action and every progression in the story makes complete sense. Every twist has a logical resolution as a result of the reader being able to understand who the characters are.

In saying this, I don’t know if it’s only because I didn’t re-read everything from the start, but I would love to know exactly why Chan’s in love with the MC, or why he thinks he is. Their relationship is so circumstantial(?), that one could easily strike Chan out as merely delusional. I think there could’ve been some really interesting storyline about his vulnerabilities as an idealist with such a demanding occupation, or that despite being human his job doesn’t allow him to make mistakes. Perhaps that’s just the pessimist in me refusing to believe he could simply be so ardently in love with the MC in other areas besides their physical romance, but I would’ve loved to see you make room for more emotional confrontations - put the reader right in the thick mud of it all!

Oh, and before I forget: HyunJae! Best side character I’ve read in a fic in a long while. Well developed and contributed to the story in so many, almost blink and you’ll miss it, ways. I especially love the gradual development of her relationship, going from mentor, to sisterly, to borderline parental. And that line about humanising her in the same way as when you first realise your parent is only human too - genius !!

Your points here on Chan’s development is so entirely valid and a great critique to point out. His motives aren’t fleshed out, and we can blame MC’s lack of seeking that out, but I know it’s really on me. If I dig in, I know I originally wanted Chan to find someone who was efficient and professional he was, but even more in control without being as controlling as other people in his life. She challenges him and keeps him on track when he’s very much in that position with his members on a regular basis. He feels comfortable with MC because he feels he’s seen a side of her she doesn’t really show much, and she’s willing to break those walls down to let him in and that really intrigues him and lights his fire, while also encouraging him to let someone else be in charge when he take a break from being leader for a little bit.

And Hyunjae is best girl. She was so fun to write, and I knew right away she needed a solid arc. It’s heartbreaking to feel like you outgrew a mentor, but if you��re lucky they can still be dear to you in some way.

Young Wings

When you said you wrote Young Wings with me in mind, I was more nervous than I was excited; what could possibly warrant such a level of affection? As an unfortunate result, I read this piece while constantly digging for the answer. Does she think I’d make a good stewardess? Am I this skeptical of cute boys? Oh my God did the pilot just die?! Anyhow, I kept being pleasantly surprised as the story progressed, as the characters are stripped back layer by layer, until they’re both literally naked. And soon enough, I figured out why you said you wrote this story with me in mind. You once mentioned - and I’m gravely paraphrasing here - that you saw me as a romantic, maybe even a hopeless one. I refused to believe the title, convincing myself that I have such a hardened heart [despite loving rom-com’s to a fault]. But no, you’re absolutely right, I’m an absolute sucker for romance. And Young Wings has such a beautiful high, a very warm glow of romance emanating from the two characters. They’re very human, very easy to like. And even though it employs a character dynamic of one being professionally above the other (like in Standby, Chan’s job is clearly a lot more essential that MC’s), it’s a softer approach, in a lot better lighting - Also, tangent, but thank you for addressing sexism in the Flight Attendant industry!

And I can’t not point out this heartwarming quote:

“The terrifying thing no one told us growing up was that finding your ‘thing’ isn’t a finish line. It’s not like you find it and that’s it. A lot of times it’s more like goalposts. You have to keep passing them and sometimes there’s never a finish line, but you love it and that’s what matters.”

I’m not an active stan of Stray Kids, nor an active stan of Chan. But I very much fell in love with him in this piece!

I forgot what, exactly, was the precise impetus for having you in mind when writing this (aside from your astute recollection of my labeling you a hopeless romantic) and now I remembered! I believe at the time I wrote it you were going through a period of cold feet around school and a career path and general restlessness and apprehension that I remembered regularly suffering through when I was in school. In my own way, I woke up one day and didn’t feel at home in the skies anymore like the MC does. I keep three or four drafts going simultaneously at almost all times, so here I believe I was wrestling with Prowl pt. 3 and feeling a bit harried on the feelings there. I usually end up pivoting to a project with compared or contrasted feelings, so this is the warmth to Prowl’s cold. And you would make a cute flight attendant for what it’s worth.

To Those Who Wait

I’m not gonna lie, I thought this was set up to be a rom-com of sorts, I really did not think this would take such a tense turn. I really like the premise! Again, it’s such an interesting moral dilemma, having to choose between being stubborn or taking the high ground. Perhaps it was in how well the narrative is set up, that I, too, kept waiting for the curtain to be pulled and for Changbin to reveal some underlying plan. I was antsy, and nervous. And as a result, I really didn’t expect the oncoming series of events - I seldom read the warning labels, especially when I trust the writer and I know what kind of content I can expect from them. But this one really did take me by surprise. I love that, in revising the story, it really was all hinted from the beginning - the power play was clear from the moment the MC was introduced as this ball-busting office worker, and Changbin as the polite and reserved assistant - but I was so invested in hunting down the truth, and being disarmed by Changbin’s sickly sweet performance, that I completely missed the underlying motives of their actions/reactions. I also seemed to have made a note about wanting to see more of Changbin’s submissive nature through real life interactions - ie. he had never taken the train before, so in this situation, he was being guided by the MC - but I think that reaches too far over the line of where you intended to put/write this relationship; it’s more of a personal preference really. Anyhow, this was a thrilling read from start to finish - underlined by the fact that Changbin is my fave in Stray Kids ><

A CHANGBIN STAN WE LOVE TO SEE IT. I fell head over heels for Changbin’s IRL rich kid upbringing, like he really did come from this cushy background and he’s still so talented and capable, and I wanted a fun scenario to plant that into. Funny and thrilling was truly where I wanted it, and I do have this projected as a series to really explore this relationship and what, exactly, these two characters are waiting for. And I’m glad you were caught by Changbin’s reveal! It had to be something he was truly ashamed of and that MC would be bitter about for years but could ultimately forgive.

What You Don’t Know

Funnily enough, my first note is that this reminds me a lot of a friendship I had with someone. Even from the way it began - the unbelievably clever line: It’s not like you hated Jisung when you met him. It wasn’t like you liked him, either. Really, you didn’t anything Jisung - with Jisung and the MC going from strangers, to friends, to questionably more than friends. The bloom of their interactions reads so organically -probably because it mirrors my own experiences- even down to Stephanie’s interference. I really do like this one for a lot of reasons: it’s my favourite AU, it’s a setting that is real to me therefore I can vividly feel everything, and the stakes of the relationship aren’t so dire that it makes the pining so much worse, because you can’t justify the jealousy properly. And the dialogues between Jisung and the MC also reads so realistic, it’s not stiff nor vague. It cleverly reflects the stages of their familiarity, from unsure and stilted to playfully affectionate - this is why I’m so especially fond of the first time she tugs his hair, the tense change in the air, asking you if they just crossed a line or simply made the natural progression in their very fond relationship. ( Also don’t think that scene with MC and Chan in the car is just going to fly over my head missy, I need to know the history there! ) I like this for a multitude of reasons, all of which are deeply influenced by the fact that I’ve been in the MC’s exact shoes. The only difference being that I did not sleep with that friend, and his Stephanie made us stop talking to each other. Otherwise, this story made me squeal, 10/10 for realism!

Yes! Who doesn’t love a college au? They’re so easy to retreat back to. I was literally inspired by a joke in Scrubs (“I nothing you” is the line there) and built an entire scenario around that. The sub argument is an infamous embarrassing moment for me where I did, repeatedly, label one of our friends as a sub and definitely definitely definitely thought of how easy it’d be to prove it like the MC does and NOW IT’S WEIRD WHEN HE CALLS MY PARTNER TO HANG OUT ON THE PHONE ALL THE TIME. I think we’ve all had to deal with a Stephanie (I certainly have) but I hate that yours drove you away! I always thought this scenario was a little universal, but I didn’t expect it to be to that extent. Also, don’t worry, the Chan story gets explained down the line.

Au Pair

I cannot stress this enough, but I love this!! The premise reads like a telenovela, with a quiet tension that can only be found when a scene is handled as expertly as you have. As a result, from the get go, I think I was just waiting for the trouble to kick in. I thought it would hit during the pool scene, or perhaps even the dining room scene when Carson refuses his food. But what I didn’t expect was for the first kick to not even include the MC, but rather just be something that she observed - classic telenovela ! I re-read that paragraph thrice because my jaw dropped. I knew something bad was going to happen, but I really didn’t expect it to be that! I know you wrote is as a oneshot, but I really would love to read more of this. I feel like it could have been fleshed out a bit more, really unpack the characters and their motives. I feel like I’m just getting a taster of something amazing here, something really dramatic and jaw-dropping. I’d also love to see things from Carson’s perspective somehow too! Something I’ve picked up during my babysitting days, very young children tend to subconsciously reflect a lot of a family’s conflicts. Carson is obviously smart, but he’s also a kid, and in a family structure like that with - as you said - a rotation of authority figures, I feel like he could have a lot to contribute, especially as a narrative device! Also I love your choice of mystery member! I think it makes complete sense, I really couldn’t see anyone else for the role, he’s a very fitting choice! I’m obviously fond of this one, it got me really invested, and - I’m not meaning this in a demanding way - I only wish I could read more of it.

A telenovella I LIVE. I guess growing up with Days of Our Lives paid off. This is one of those readings I never expected but I’m thriving off of. I love a good turn of a character feeling like they’ve exposed themselves as a fool, and I’m glad it read well here. Carson IS smart and I love that idea of his perspective. At one point I did picture a small epilogue where Miranda steps up to the plate while the Mystery Member and MC run away and start a new life in San Francisco where he becomes head chef of a trendy fusion restaurant.

Exposure

This made me incredibly nervous in the same way Surreptitious made my hands clammy. Because not only am I (a) a photographer who (b) will pass as a child given the right outfit and mannerisms, but © I know what it’s like to be asked to give up your artistic integrity in exchange for money or exposure (ba dum tsss). So this hits home a little too hard, especially that you made Doyoung the photographic subject rip. But I really really like this one too! It was thrilling in the ways I least expected it to be, this undercover adventure of being a paparazzi, and the active use of disguises to reflect an outward character that Jungwoo has the pleasure of, well, pleasuring himself to - which I think is what makes her last outfit in the story, the black ensemble, all the more interesting!

I also love seeing Jungwoo portrayed this way, that you didn’t entirely sacrifice his disarmingly innocent aura, but you also gave him a devilish streak - so faithful to how I personally imagine him. It’s a wonderful balance that kind of perfectly hits the middle ground, and makes him such an interesting and almost unpredictable character. And I love the MC in this, that she has an inner integrity that is undercut by the way she dresses as these multiple characters throughout the story - I think two two characters compliment each other well. She outwardly presents dynamism, while Jungwoo represents it more inwardly. So when they come together, it’s so masterful and I cannot peel my eyes away from them. I also really like that you didn’t make either one a dom or a sub, which only speaks so much more to that dynamic previously mentioned. It works so especially well, given what we know about these characters, and the non-stakes of their story arcs. I want to see more of this, but I’d also be really satisfied with where it ends. It leaves such a well-rounded note of camaraderie between the two characters, that in my head, I’m rooting for them to somehow end up together.

I felt like I entirely punted this one across the finish line so I am FLOORED by your reading and response. I wanted to try something a little different and felt so, SO self-conscious the whole time I was convinced it showed, so I’m honesty surprised it was effective. I’ve had my own experiences as well with lying to get a job done, but my biggest goal was to challenge the Jungwoo Innocent Baby Boy narrative that the fandom likes to feed into, so I’m VERY glad that was effective.

I just realised that this is now over 2k long, so it’s a good thing that I’m finishing here. Like I said earlier, I’ll be venturing to read Prowl and The Sabotage of Simkung House tomorrow, so expect to hear from me again soon. Otherwise have a good night, or morning, depending when you read this, and thank you for writing such wonderful stories! Truly, you continue to impress me as a writer, and I’m humbled to be your friend.

So by the end of my first reading of these notes, I was pretty much in tears because I loved that you took the time to do this, to read my work that you are not obligated to and give me feedback that I am not entitled to. I love you to bits, Rae, and it stuns me that I found a friend on the other side of the sunset that I feel like I can confide in and look to for guidance. I hope you know how much you shine. ❤️

#FEEDBACK #OH MY GOD RAE #starxblossom #my children #submission

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speckledbears · 4 years

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Thoughts on “Far From Home”

SPOILERS FOR “Spider-Man: Far From Home”!!!!

this is for you anon

ok so basically i thought that it would have been good if it wasn’t a Spider-Man (“children’s”) movie.

Like, I think Quentin (Jake G) was such an interesting character, and an amazing villain but, I hated that his entire reason was because he wanted to be the New Iron Man. It bugs me to NO END that THATS the reason. Tony stole the projector tech he made, made fun of him (even if the audience didn’t know), and fired him. I think that’s a much better reason than wanting to be the next Annoying, Mean, Rich Rich Rich So Fucking Rich Metal Guy. The tech was so fucking cool? Like, projectors that seemed so lifelike,,, that’s so cool (also i kinda feel like you could relate it to how disney is only using GCI now but the russos are dumbasses). And like, the story Quentin and his team put together for Mysterio, and all the planning and the production value (if you can call it that lol) was so interesting and I was so intrigued. If there was a movie for him, and he didn’t fucking suck, I would pay to see it. His issue is that he’s so hellbent on killing Peter, MJ and Ned that I was put-off from like, half the movie. It’s kinda terrifying that someone can say, “I’ll just have to kill the kids myself,” and NO ONE IS CONCERNED??? And the fact that he was willing to kill innocent civilians just to make headlines, that’s fucked (and modern). Also, I think the directors missed out on a big opportunity for Peter to have a new father figure. Peter looked up to Quentin, trusted him, seeked him out for advice, like he would a father. I don’t remember him ever doing that with Tony. Peter was always too worried he was bothering him, and Tony seemed to brush him off a lot. Sure, Tony picked him and placed so much faith in him but, in the end? I feel Peter became more of a toy for the Avengers than an actual team member. If Quentin had been a good guy, doing this shit for the “right reasons” (idk like, taking the burden of becoming Iron Man off Peter, and maybe mentoring him) he could’ve been AMAZING. I still love him (except his dumb reasons) but, y’all missed out!!!!

Next: The whole deal with Peter being chosen by Tony to be the next Iron Man. Fucking hate that shit!!!!! Peter is a CHILD, he’s 16, and obviously he’s not ready for that responsibility!!!! In the movie, he’s manipulated by Quentin (which i lowkey also hate and explained above) and he just!!! gave EDITH to him!!!!! He’s a good kid, but not mature or responsible enough to handle having access to that kind of tech. I mean, dude almost killed a classmate?? Literally called a drone strike on the kid, couldn’t figure out how to cancel it, and destroyed the drone himself. Let’s not forget that this responsibility was FORCED ON HIM BY TONY???? Like, there was this scene where Peter literally told Quentin that he didn’t want EDITH!!! He didn’t want that kind of responsibility that came with being Iron Man!!! All he wanted for the summer was to hang out with his friends and kiss the girl he likes!!! Peter just wanted to be a normal child for one summer and, apparently, that was too much to ask for. Also, in the scene where Happy and Peter are in the jet talking about Tony, Peter says that he doesn’t know if he can be the new Iron Man. Happy doesn’t even hesitate when he says, “No, you can’t. No one can replace him.” Like hello!!!! And then they immediately forget that little nugget of wisdom, and Peter starts playing with Tony’s tech and literally everyone with eyes can draw the parallels between Peter and Tony. It’s frustrating. I hated how Tony was treated after his death. I completely understand mourning a character, especially one as important as Tony Stark, but it didn’t feel like mourning. It felt like worshipping. Tony had become a martyr, and he fucking knew it (EDITH = Even Dead, I’m The Hero 🙄) and people are still licking his boots. It’s just so weird that, even though he’s supposed to be dead, he’s still a main character and RDJ isn’t even in the movie!!!!!!!! When a character dies, that’s it, they can’t directly influence the story anymore, and yet Tony is still the reason for everything Peter does? He doesn’t have his own initiative. He lived and breathed in Tony’s shadow, and he’ll live in it forever. He’s being forced to become the next Iron Man. And believe me, I love Tony. I grew up watching the “Iron Man” movies with my parents and brother, and I remember watching one in the theatre and laughing till I cried. Guys! He’s dead! He’s done more than enough! It’s Spider-Man’s turn now.

I really hated Nick Fury in this movie. I grew up watching the OG Marvel movies and I loved Nick, but holy fuck. This dude hounded Peter, a CHILD, for help against those Elementals when he could’ve literally asked anyone else (side note: he shot Ned with a tranquilizer dart like? dude he’s a child calm down-). He gave a shit ton of excuses for why he couldn’t get in contact with the other Avengers but, I call bullshit. This dude is like, one of the most powerful men in the world (Quentin’s words, but it’s also been proven in other movies). He managed to track down Peter, how is it THAT HARD for him to find an adult??? Then he hijacked the school trip so that Peter would be in Prague, and he KNEW that once Peter was there he would help. It’s manipulation. Never mind the scene like, 5 mins later where Peter says he’s worried about his friends getting hurt (and having EDITH but not really understanding her), and Nick exploded on him. LIKE DUDE??? he’s a child. I’m also super pissed off at the fact that Nick manipulated Peter using his Avenger status. OOOOHHHH you whore!!! Literally everyone knows that Peter loved Tony (🙄🙄) and he used him against Peter! ASK AN ADULT FOR HELP YOU HAVE AN ENTIRE TEAM OF THEM????? Oh also, the bitch KNEW Quentin was evil. There’s a scene that proves it. It’s right after their first meeting where Peter says no, and leaves. Nick and Maria (the brunette lady hes always with, im surprised i remembered her name) share a knowing glance. They fucking KNOW. And yet?? They let Quentin do whatever the hell he wants?? He literally tried to kill 3 teenagers, and planned to kill hundreds of civilians in London (and i’m not sure if anyone did get hurt or died but, i wouldn’t be surprised). But the most powerful man in the world can’t stop him, apparently. He wants a 16-year-old CHILD to do it for him. It’s ridiculous!

The romance was also a bit hit-or-miss for me. Like, Ned and Betty?? It felt so forced and contrived? It literally only existed so that MJ could take Ned’s place. Y’all notice that Ned basically ditched his best friend for the entire movie for some girl he barely knows? Also, the fact that they “fell in love” on an eight hour flight. Hate that. It’s such a trope and it’s ugly. The romance with Happy and May was kinda weird, too? I mean, I don’t know their past together. I didn’t watch “Infinty War” or “Endgame” but, it also felt forced. Especially at the end, when Peter asked if they were dating!! May said no and Happy said yes!! I’m assuming that’s supposed to be comedy?? ig??? Anyway, I didn’t really like the romantic rivalry between Brad and Peter? (btw no shit i almost called peter “tony” i’m telling y’all they’re synonymous now). Like, Brad’s logic in using the photo of Peter stripping to “expose the truth” about Peter to MJ was so weird and awkward? The entire scene felt forced and I was so uncomfortable watching it. Also, MJ would’ve stuck up for Peter anyway, so it didn’t even matter, and the rivalry was dropped so easily after the opera in Prague. I did actually like the romance between Peter and MJ, even though I wasn’t expecting to. It’s a bit weird how quickly he got over Liz, but whatever; he’s a teenager. (I was going to comment on the necklace thing but, that’s actually kind of in character for him so, y’all get ONE (1) pass). I thought their hug and kiss at the end of the battle with Quentin was super fucking sweet and innocent, and it was refreshing compared to most teen romance movies where they act like adults instead. I was in LOVE with that scene, and it was one of the only scenes I honestly loved.

Ok, I wanna go back to Quentin for a bit. This dude absolutely destroyed the Peter Parker we were given in HOCO, and at the beginning of the movie. Yeah, Tony already had him as a puppet, but Quentin took his innocence. Y’all saw how easily Peter trusted people before him!! Like?? When he found out Quentin manipulated him, he lost almost all his faith in other people, except for MJ and Ned. For example, the scene where Peter calls Happy to pick him up because he’s in a holding cell in the Netherlands? Love that scene BUT! As he’s limping over to Happy, so obviously fucked up and hurting, he makes Happy prove it’s really him. THAT FUCKING HURT LMAO!!!!! I hated that. And that last battle with Quentin on the bridge? He maneuvered so easily through the drones, it was impressive, and he’d only fought against them once before (seems impossible but whatever). And watching the projections dissolve away into just pixels and a scared little bitch in a fish bowl helmet? Classic Theatre. But, he was traumatized by previous experiences fighting Quentin. Peter’s growth made the movie good but, his loss of innocence really made this movie kinda suck. Sure, his innocence still there—the scenes later with MJ prove that—but he’s still lost his easy trust in other people. It hurt to see. And, like, I’m not saying he can’t be more mature but, he didn’t even trust Happy!! He’s so paranoid that he’ll find his loved ones replaced by Quentin’s illusions!! It sucks!!!! Peter isn’t Peter without that sense of childlike wonder, curiosity, and helpless faith in others.

Anyway, I wanna talk about that Netherlands scene again because, holy shit, I loved it. After Peter was hit by that train (i actually screamed but the cinematography inside the train? *kiss*), he wakes up in some holding cell in the Netherlands with a band of friendly locals, and the guard, who’s talking on the phone with his pregnant wife. I don’t know why but, that scene was one of the first to make me smile? Like, it was so sweet how the other men were so happy for the guard and his wife, how they gave Peter a spare shirt because he looked cold, how Peter just broke the lock and left? How the guard was wearing Peter’s mask???? I’m in love. The next scene I liked was literally right after, of Peter limping through the tulip field, and Happy landing the jet nearby. Without dialogue, that scene is so pretty?? The petals stirring in the wave the jet left as it landed?? The HUG???? UGH! I fell in love. Another scene I loved was the scene when Peter went to Berlin to meet with Nick Fury and Quentin manipulated it with the projection technology. Even though I knew it was fake, I was worried about what was going on outside the projection (he got hit by a fucking train so,,,,,, iwas right to be worried-). Watching Peter so helpless and trying to stay vigilant was so heartbreaking, yet I was lowkey impressed. Like? How many other mean ass men could pull that off? None, next question. I can’t even think about how to explain it. I watched that scene at least 3 times, and was amazed every time, my only thoughts anxiety for Peter.

Okay, lastly, I wanna talk about the tech. I thought it was so interesting and unique. Like, I’ve played with the idea of projection in stories, or with characters as magic but, never considered applying it through technology, especially tech as capable as it is. And every scene where the projections were being used were amazing. I mean, obviously it’s CGI, but in the context of the MCU, it’s so interesting and cool to see tech like that used in a very public way. And no one knew!!! The whole system (along with Quentin and his team) was so good at camouflaging that I was fooled at the beginning of the movie. I seriously believed in the Elementals and Mysterio’s ruined Earth. It’s part of the reason I really enjoyed his character. And, like I said earlier, Peter was fooled by it too; everyone was. He learned it, eventually. But not before Quentin could manipulate the situation one last time and claim Peter called the drone attacks on London, and revealed his identity.

All in all, I didn’t have fun watching “Far From Home,” and it’s mainly because it didn’t feel like a Spider-Man movie. I enjoyed “Homecoming,” so much more. The villain was far more relatable (even though you could see it as demonizing the poor), Ned and Peter’s friendship was so wholesome and sweet, the entire cast was fun, and it was more enjoyable than watching some angry rich white man trying to kill children so he can get richer.

#long post #spiderman #spiderman: ffh #peter parker #mysterio #mj spiderman #ned spiderman #im angry haha

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jcmorrigan · 4 years

Text

Shattered and Mended

The F/O? XR from Buzz Lightyear of Star Command. The S/I? Rachel Sparks - fifth ranger of Team Lightyear with a big heart for justice (and no glasses in this ‘verse because I suppose Nebula would surgically augment my eyes to make sure Zurg couldn’t rip the glasses off and stomp on them, which is a Zurg tactic). The writings I did for XR are actually from a rather structured AU that runs alongside the whole show, and tell versions of episodes that are impacted by my s/i’s existence. This one goes with the ep “Eye of the Storm,” though it takes off after that ep’s timeline ends and does a whole other act that’s just basically a sickfic. This is actually probably the longest selfship piece I’ve written, but I love it because of the shenanigans.

Also, if you can guess what three works of fiction I appropriated for the bingewatch show, cookies for you.

***

It was a typical week for Team Lightyear. Answer a distress call, discover it was made by the daughter of a mad scientist (former Star Command researcher Spiro Lepton, in fact, though he now preferred to go by “von Madman,” apparently) in order to lure Team Lightyear into said mad scientist’s clutches, beat mad scientist after literally everyone on the team made him stronger by consecutively using energy-based attacks on him despite seeing the previous efforts fail, send mad scientist to jail, learn that mad scientist’s daughter isn’t so bad after all, learn that mad scientist’s daughter has a crush on your team leader, go out for group lunch at Cosmo’s.

Cosmo knew by this point that he was best served getting Booster’s order off the oven first, meaning Rachel had to try and keep the saliva of hunger from escaping her lips as she watched him devour an entire plate of squirming curly fries in one go. Hot, crispy, lightly-spiced curly fries. Maybe she should’ve ordered that, she wondered, instead of the spurfion rings. At least this time, XR hadn’t forgotten he couldn’t eat curly fries and tried to put one in his mouth.

Booster remarked that it was the perfect way to top off the day after defeating evil, and that seemed to be the cue for the reply: “Daddy wasn’t always evil. He used to be a good man.”

Rachel wondered how exactly Bonnie had tracked them all down. It was a little creepy. In the grand scheme, however, that hardly mattered, as Rachel could read the dismay on Bonnie’s face. It couldn’t have been easy, living with the burden of having a man who literally renamed himself “madman” as your parent.

Bonnie concluded her statement with “Just like Buzz” and turned to place her hands on Buzz’s shoulder and forearm.

Rachel could sense Buzz’s discomfort immediately; he’d tensed up so hard, she could feel it from across the table. They’d all been briefed on Buzz’s history with Bonnie, and Rachel could hardly blame him. Erasing the memories he had of her as a child couldn’t be easy. Rachel pictured it for a minute – looking at Bonnie’s sultry expression and overlaying a grade-schooler’s gap-toothed visage over top. This prompted a shudder. Creepy.

It got worse; as Buzz tried to convince Bonnie that her father had gone off the deep end (his black-and-white morals would be the death of him, but wasn’t that what made him lovable?), Bonnie begged him for attention, climbing into the booth, crawling toward him, attempting to pin him down. Rachel suddenly lost all sympathy for Bonnie Lepton. She now seemed almost predatory, physically positioning herself to fence Buzz against the window, making it clear what she wanted. Rachel wondered if she should step in, but found herself frozen, unsure exactly what move to make.

Mira, as usual, decided to go the direct route, pulling Buzz toward her by the collar and hissing, “Can’t you see she has a huge crush on you?”

Upon affirming this, Buzz returned to Bonnie; “It’s perfectly natural for you to have feelings for me. But they’re meaningless! It’s the classic damsel-in-distress syndrome. I rescue you, you go all moony!”

That wasn’t how Rachel would’ve described Bonnie’s demeanor.

Mira had nothing to say to this but a facepalm.

It got worse when Buzz said he’d seen this dozens of times, to which Bonnie told him “I thought I was special,” and Rachel didn’t know where she could’ve gotten that idea at all, seeing how Buzz had done nothing but brush her off and turn her down and was she physically unable to take a hint?

“Sorry, kiddo,” Buzz told her. “Just doin’ my job.”

At least Buzz had been able to stand up for himself. Rachel felt quite protective of him in that moment; Bonnie certainly wasn’t the sort who would give up the chase easily. Could she not see how uncomfortable she was making him? Did she not get the concept of how their history was complicated? Did she not –

But as Bonnie was pulling away from the table, XR tried to intercept her. “Hey, I think you’re special!” he said, pouring on the charm far too thickly as he clasped one of her hands in both of his own. “Aaaand, since you’re new to civilization and all, I should tell you – “ He whipped about to produce two mirrors from his inventory. “I am considered quite the looker!”

Now Rachel had something to be even more upset about.

Mira hissed “XR!” at him, not without a quick, pointed glance toward Rachel that informed her of the pure rage surging through the blonde.

“That’s all right,” Bonnie said, flirtily planting a kiss on XR’s helmet –

It’s that easy? Rachel thought. What makes you think you can just do that?

“At least he’s treating me like a GROWN WOMAN,” Bonnie asserted.

No, Rachel thought, he’s treating you like a piece of meat, and this should be why I’m glad we’re just friends, why I’m glad he doesn’t do this shit to me, but that still doesn’t explain why I’m the only woman in the entire galaxy he hasn’t even looked at –

“Unlike a certain STUFFED-SPACESUIT JARHEAD ROCKET JOCKEY I KNOW,” Bonnie fired off as XR whooped his joy at having been kissed.

There was nothing about this Rachel didn’t hate.

“What?” Buzz asked when Bonnie had left. “What’d I say wrong?”

“I don’t even KNOW where to begin,” Mira grunted.

“Oh, no, Buzz was fine,” Rachel growled. She leaned out over the table to point accusingly at XR; “But can YOU stop being a perv for literally TEN SECONDS? Or is that a standard function of your programming, to be a complete and total creep toward every woman you cross paths with?”

“If I can remind you, SHE was the one who kissed ME,” XR boasted proudly.

“That was a pity kiss,” Rachel snarled. “You’re lucky you didn’t get your entire head smacked right off, which is what I would’ve done if I were her and didn’t know you.”

“You’re just jealous that I’m a babe magnet,” XR teased. “You WISH you could get the attention I do.”

Of course, he didn’t know exactly how hard that hit. That didn’t make a lick of difference.

Rachel made a loud, wordless scream of frustration before forcing herself to be calm long enough to say “Mira…Booster…please let me out so I can storm away in a rage.”

Seeing Rachel’s temper flaring as hard as it was, Mira and Booster wasted no time evacuating the booth so Rachel could stomp angrily toward the women’s restroom.

Buzz watched her in confusion. “Is she…ah…is she gonna be okay?”

“I just want it on record that I did NOTHING wrong here,” XR stated, arms folded.

Mira buried her face in both hands. “Booster, you, me, and Rachel are the only three smart people left at this table.”

“But Rachel’s not at the table,” Booster pointed out. “Maybe you should go after her, since…you know…you’re the only other woman here…”

“No,” Mira sighed as she raised her face, “she needs to be alone right now – “

Buzz was already making way toward the restrooms.

“I SAID SHE NEEDS TO BE ALONE RIGHT NOW!” Mira yelled, to no avail.

“SOME people just don’t know when they’ve crossed the line,” XR commented, earning him angry glares from Mira and Booster.

Rachel paced back and forth across the women’s room for a bit, reminding herself not to examine the floor too long for fear of seeing the level of grime that was actually there and touching her boots. How dare he? No, he couldn’t know, but the fact that he was accusing her of being jealous of his ability to attract attention (which he didn’t even have; Bonnie was just as much of a shameless flirt as he and he had the luck to cross her path) when in fact, she did want to be able to attract attention, but only of one person, the worst person, the person who should have just proven she shouldn’t want to be anything more than friends with, and he was lucky to even be that –

Frustratedly, she began to sing in hopes of getting rid of some excess negative energy, hardly thinking about the song itself.

Why did she even still like him? He’s terrible, she told herself. But she couldn’t believe that anymore. Not after he’d engineered that entire scheme to get her un-fired from Team Lightyear. Not after their conversations regarding how messed up they both were in the head. Not after their deal, trading janitorial work for office work. No, they were at the very least friends now, and Rachel had to live with that, and the very act of being friends with XR kept reminding her of what was good about him, and what made her admire him, which clashed so horribly with when he did things like this – said things like that –

The sound of a flushing toilet. A woman exited the stall and fixed a rather disgruntled look upon Rachel, who was silenced sheepishly as the woman began to wash her four hands. Perhaps, Rachel realized, it would’ve been a good idea to check the restroom for occupants before pacing around it singing lyrics like “IS IT LOVE? IS IT LOVE? OR JUST THE DRUGS PULSING IN MY VEINS?”

The singing had worked a little bit, anyway. There was no reason for Rachel to be that angry. Her friend was a womanizer-wannabe, he’d managed to find someone his charms temporarily worked on by the sheer scope of trying them on everyone, they’d had a moment, she wanted someone else all along. No big deal. This was just Rachel’s problem. Pining made a person overreact.

Jealous of getting the attention he did, indeed.

There were things you just didn’t say, even if it turned out you were right about them.

Shortly after the other woman left the restroom, Rachel did the same, practically colliding with Buzz Lightyear as she did so. After both gave a “Whoa!” and backed off, Rachel was reminded of the other problem.

“I, uh…” Buzz began, “I just wanted to make sure, you know, that you were okay.”

“I’m fine,” Rachel said with a forced smile. “Who doesn’t get fed up with their teammates every once in a while?”

“Even I know that feeling,” Buzz admitted with a smile, “though don’t tell them that.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything,” Rachel blurted. “When Bonnie was doing…the stuff she was doing.”

“What do you have to be sorry for?” Buzz asked. “Like I said: the damsel-in-distress syndrome. Besides, the more I think about it, the more I wonder if taking her up on the whole date thing wouldn’t actually be that bad of an idea.”

Rachel flinched. “Buzz, do you even LIKE her?”

“What’s not to like about Bonnie Lepton?” Buzz asked. “She’s a confident woman who sees the good in people. Everyone should like her!”

“No. I’m asking if you LIKE her. YOU KNOW HOW I MEAN.”

“Well, uh…” Buzz met Rachel’s piercing gaze with a rather hollow look. “Not right now, but you never know. Things can happen.”

“Are you thinking about asking her out because she PESTERED you?”

“She wasn’t pestering!” Buzz argued. “She happens to have a mild crush on me – “

“A MILD crush.”

“ – and there’s a chance we’re compatible, and this will make her happy!” Buzz insisted.

“Yeah, but…she makes you REALLY uncomfortable,” Rachel argued. “Don’t tell me I’m wrong. I SAW you two.”

“It wasn’t that bad!” Buzz argued.

“I’m just afraid that if you give in because she bothered you into it,” Rachel told him, “then you’re gonna end up even more uncomfortable. Or just hurt.”

“Listen, Rachel,” Buzz said patiently, “I’m a grown man. I can take care of myself. It’s gonna take more than a bad date to hurt me. It doesn’t even take EVIL EMPEROR ZURG to hurt me!”

“I’m just trying to look out for you, okay?” Rachel insisted. “I know you can take care of yourself, but…I get worried. It’s what I do. She shouldn’t have put that kind of pressure on you. It isn’t RIGHT. Even I…”

And here’s why it really wasn’t that easy. She’d known it since the Petra incident.

“…I had this guy I liked, once,” she said meekly. “A lot. But I knew he wasn’t interested in me at all. And I NEVER wanted to put him through what Bonnie’s putting you through. Even if it was hard having to see him and keep it all bottled up. I just…I can’t – couldn’t do that to him. Even if he was an asshole who deserved a little punishment sometimes.” She sighed. “If you wanna go out with Bonnie, that’s fine. I just don’t want this to go wrong for you.”

“I’ll be fine,” Buzz assured her. “I appreciate the concern, though. You’ve got a good heart.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Rachel made to head back to the table. “Let’s go get our food. They probably brought my spurfion rings, and I’m starving.”

“Rachel.”

She paused, her back turned to Buzz. Her head swiveled to get a good look at him.

Candidly, Buzz stated, “Any guy who wouldn’t see how amazing you are is a MORON.”

She said the only thing she could say: “That’s exactly the problem.”

He didn’t ask, so she didn’t elaborate. They returned to the booth, where their orders were in fact waiting, and it seemed that already, Rachel had missed the time-honored ritual where XR had attempted to casually steal a spurfion ring off her plate only to remember the hard way, yet again, that he wasn’t able to consume food. She gave this the barest acknowledgement, re-taking her seat by the window and making a point of not looking directly at XR for the rest of the meal.

Buzz began to spell out his ideas for the date he was planning with Bonnie: “So I was thinking I’d take her to good old Cosmic Crunchies – “

“Buzz,” XR sighed, “I thought the point was that you were treating her like a grown-up. That COMPLETELY defeats the purpose. Also, Cosmic Crunchies? Really? How old are YOU, again?”

Rachel just barely managed to disguise her inappropriately-placed laugh as a cough. Curse him. (Though now was obviously a bad time to say that she herself wouldn’t be opposed to Cosmic Crunchies, so she kept that one secret.)

Buzz laid out the rest of his plans, and Rachel couldn’t help but think that this was about to go terribly, horribly wrong.

***

Things had gone about as badly as Rachel could have predicted if not worse. Lepton (or “von Madman,” as he preferred, apparently) had somehow enlarged himself to monumental proportions, solidified his crystal shell, and carried Bonnie off into the city. By the time the majority of the squad arrived on scene, it seemed all that was left of Buzz was a Buzz-shaped imprint in the ground.

“Poor Buzz,” Booster whimpered, looking at the site of the damage, “he’s gone!”

“Life will be so empty without him,” XR moaned.

“I can’t believe – “ Rachel attempted.

“By the way,” XR interrupted, “who gets his car?”

“Wow,” Rachel huffed. “Mr. Sensitivity, aren’t you?”

Thankfully, Buzz hadn’t actually been crushed, crawling up out of where he’d been punched into the floor. Booster excitedly plucked him from the indent, crying, “YOU’RE ALIVE!”

Rachel let out a sigh of absolute relief.

Buzz wrenched himself from one of Booster’s bone-crushing hugs, barreling toward the edge of the rooftop where they had all gathered to try to intercept Lepton (or “von Madman”…apparently) as he barked, “No time for mushy stuff, rangers! Madman is loose!”

“Hey, yeah, about that?” Rachel called after Buzz as he barreled to the edge of the rooftop. “Just thought maybe we should discuss how this is related to what we talked about earlier regarding – “

“No time for that either!” Buzz called back as he made a flying leap off the building.

Rachel all but deflated as the rest of the team followed. Eventually, she mustered up the willpower to give chase. If he’d just listened to her, none of this would be happening, she thought.

A direct attack on Lepton (“von Madman,” apparently) failed thrice in a row, and the blasts of pure energy he emitted to attempt to eliminate Team Lightyear en masse ended up causing collateral damage when they missed. Buzz’s argument that he and Bonnie were on a date rolled off Lepton (“von Madman,” apparently)’s back like water off a duck.

“Seriously,” Rachel groaned, “this can NOT get any – “

“DON’T,” XR warned, “SAY IT.”

That was when Lepton (“von Madman,” apparently) commandeered the city’s main generator and erupted into titanic size.

“That had NOTHING to do with what I just said!” Rachel barked as the group landed on another nearby rooftop to assess.

“Oh, really?” XR countered. “Haven’t I warned you about what happens EVERY TIME ANYONE SAYS THOSE WORDS?”

“It’s a coincidence,” Rachel grunted.

“This and every other time?” “It has not happened every single time.”

“NINETY TIMES out of the past NINETY-FIVE that someone has said ‘this can’t get any worse,’” XR pointed out, “it has GOTTEN WORSE.”

“You kept TRA – “ Rachel shook her head. “Of course you kept track.”

“Plan?” Mira asked. “Anybody got a plan? Because we could REALLY use a plan right now.”

Buzz surveyed the generator before making his decision: “It’s up to you, XR. You’ve gotta reach the cutoff valve. We’ll stall him.”

“I’m sorry,” Rachel broke in, “XR does what?” “I agree,” XR repeated; “XR does what? One false move, and someone could be blown to bits! Maybe me!”

“That’s why it’s up to you,” Buzz insisted, giving the robot a gentle push toward the edge of the roof.

“Ummm…I don’t like this plan,” Rachel argued. “I REALLY don’t like this plan.”

“But if anything happens to XR,” Booster reminded her, “he can just be rebuilt.”

“I thought you were mad at him anyway about the Bonnie thing,” Mira whispered in Rachel’s ear.

“I am,” Rachel hissed back. “That doesn’t mean I have to like the plan where he’s required to make the suicide move.”

“Then which one of us SHOULD make that move?”

“Uh…” Rachel had no answer for that.

“It’s not ideal,” Mira reminded her, “but it’s our only play.”

“Fine,” Rachel huffed. “But I want to remind EVERYONE LISTENING HERE that we would have to go through NONE OF THIS if Buzz had just NOT CAVED TO BEING PESTERED BY A WOMAN HE DIDN’T LIKE!”

“We would have to go through none of this,” Buzz countered, “if Lepton – “

“Von Madman, apparently,” Rachel broke in.

“If Lepton hadn’t pushed the limits of his research too far,” Buzz concluded. “Now let’s MOVE!”

Four blasted off; Buzz, Mira, and Booster made a beeline for Lepton (“von Madman,” apparently)’s line of vision while XR made a break for the assigned valve. Rachel stared after them all in exasperation for a solid thirty seconds before yelling, “WHEN DID THE I-TOLD-YOU-SO SQUAD BECOME THE I-TOLD-YOU-SO RACHEL?”

Then, knowing full well what she had to do, she blasted off to join the diversion effort.

Buzz tried to appeal to Lepton’s humanity. Mira argued that Bonnie needed a normal life. Rachel knew she had to chip in her two cents, to be as loud as ever in order to draw attention, but her eyes kept darting over to the valve, where XR was suctioning his way up the generator. He’ll be fine, she told herself. If he gets smashed, we just piece him back together again. And after hitting on Bonnie, he deserves to be smashed anyway. Multiple times, in fact.

She turned back to Lepton. “BONNIE’S DOING JUST FINE!” she argued. “THERE ARE WAY WORSE GUYS SHE COULD’VE PICKED THAN BUZZ LIGHTYEAR! AND SHE LOVES YOU! WHY WON’T – “

A faint, metallic scream. Rachel was cut off midsentence. She whipped to look; XR had somehow gotten one arm wrapped up in the valve, then had that arm accidentally extended so he was dangling off the tower. Not that this is my problem, Rachel insisted to herself. Typical of him, anyway.

“DR. LEPTON!” Booster added. “YOU HAVE TO LISTEN TO – “

The glow of the crystals dimmed. Perhaps, Rachel thought, Lepton (“von Madman,” apparently) had decided to take their words to heart, to give up his power grab –

Or perhaps XR falling halfway down the tower and screaming had alerted him to what the team was trying to do.

Yes. Definitely that second one.

A low growl formed in the scientist’s throat. He balled up one enormous hand into a boulder-esque fist.

I am absolutely not getting involved, Rachel told herself. This is not my problem.

The minute she finished that thought, she blasted off.

She intercepted XR before Lepton (“von Madman,” apparently) could shatter him. Seeing as Rachel hadn’t really planned this, acting more upon instinct than anything else, she didn’t exactly focus on keeping airborne, and the sudden added weight of an entire robot in her arms drove her path in a decidedly downward direction. She did, however, have the presence of mind to roll over in midair as the pavement loomed. After all, she hadn’t risked her life to stop Lepton (“von Madman,” apparently) from shattering XR only for him to get dashed on the road.

Rachel landed on her back, slamming into the pavement hard, and the subsequent shooting pain in her right shoulder informed her that this had been a very bad idea. Unbidden, a shriek escaped from her lips. As XR positioned himself to standing, she sat up agonizingly, still whimpering from the shooting pain running through her shoulder.

“Whoa, nice save!” XR told her. “If you hadn’t done that, I would NOT have come out of that in one piece aaaaaaaaand you didn’t come out of that in one piece, did you?”

So he’d finally noticed that her eyes were misting up with tears. “No SHIT, XR,” she snapped.

“Oh,” he replied, “wow. Yeah, okay, that…that doesn’t look good. You should DEFINITELY get that checked out.”

“Oh, God,” she moaned, “don’t tell me it’s broken. Is it out of place?”

“Well, it’s hard to say at this point, but – what EXACTLY are you worried is broken?”

“MY FUCKING SHOULDER,” Rachel growled, immediately regretting her harsh tone the moment it had come out – though, in her defense, the fact that her shoulder might have, in fact, been broken wasn’t doing her temperament any favors. “What did you THINK?”

“How would you expect ME to know?” XR replied. “All I know is the look on your face is NOT the look of a person who doesn’t need medical attention.”

Rachel’s gaze was diverted upward; Buzz, Mira, and Booster had tried and failed to engage Lepton (“von Madman,” apparently) in direct hand-to-hand combat, and now the crystalline villain had leapt off the generator, stalking Buzz down.

“We can’t stay here,” Rachel grunted as she used her left hand to pivot into a standing position less than gracefully.

“You’re telling me!” XR cried, seizing Rachel’s hand and making a break for it –

Her right hand.

He let go after she shrieked even more piercingly. “THAT WAS THE SHOULDER,” she yelled.

“Again,” he retorted, “HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT?”

“Just RUN, dumbass!”

They bolted, Rachel’s shoulder feeling no better as time elapsed. Once they’d reached what seemed to be a safe distance, they observed the grand finale playing out.

The entire generator was destroyed in the melee, but it was Bonnie herself who struck the final blow, dealing a hit to Lepton (“von Madman,” apparently)’s weak spot on his chest and bringing him back down to humanity. Rachel would’ve fist-pumped in Bonnie’s honor if she weren’t still distracted by the burning in her shoulder.

“You think it’s safe?” she asked after Lepton (no longer “von Madman,” apparently), Bonnie, Buzz, Mira, and Booster had been conversing for some time.

“You can NEVER be too careful,” XR told her. “Luckily, I can assess the situation by reading their lips from this distance.” After a moment of observation, he muttered, “Pretty sure he just said ‘Donut candelabra’ – “

“Okay, no, that’s not gonna work.” Rachel made her way to the others, every curse she knew firing off in her brain as a result of the shoulder. Fuck Lepton, she thought, for making me have to do that. Fuck Buzz for not listening to me. And fuck XR in particular for being the exact reason my shoulder is probably wrecked.

“How do we know we can trust you?” Buzz was asking Lepton as Rachel approached.

“I promise,” Lepton replied.

That seemed to be where it ended, prompting Rachel to say, “Oh, that’s IT? We’re going to trust him just like THAT?”

“It really wasn’t his fault,” Bonnie asserted. “The crystals were affecting his brain.”

Rachel wasn’t sure how far that explanation would fly. After all, substance abuse could make people act severely out of character, but she was under the impression Lepton had at least some control over his actions. Then again, she wasn’t the judge or the jury here. That honor fell to Buzz, so she looked at him.

“Well, uh, okay,” Buzz stated. “After the LGMs CLEAR him.”

Rachel could accept that. Whatever misgivings she had, Buzz had yet to be wrong when it came to judging character.

“And if you’ll, uh…let us finish our…y’know, ahhh…” he sputtered.

“Dinner date?” Bonnie finished.

So that was still on, Rachel thought to herself.

“Right,” Buzz confirmed. “What she said.”

Rachel might as well accept this. Maybe Buzz actually did have feelings for Bonnie that went beyond pitying her pestering. Maybe this would actually go somewhere. After all, it wasn’t like things could get –

No. She was not about to become statistic ninety-six. Not even mentally.

“YAY!” Booster cried, doing a small jump for joy. “Everything worked out PERFECT! Great job, everyone!” He gave Mira’s left shoulder and Rachel’s right shoulder a simultaneous, hearty clap.

Which got Rachel to scream again, putting all eyes on her. That jolt had hit hard, and now she was crying again, which she really resented.

“Are you okay?” Mira asked in concern.

“No,” Rachel answered softly, at least feeling a little better that Mira’s response was so caring. “I think I broke my fucking shoulder.”

“Uh, yeahhhhh,” XR confirmed (when had he gotten here? Rachel bristled at his presence). “I hate to break up the happy family reunion, but we have a ranger that needs a trip to the ER, stat.”

“And whose fault is that?” Rachel growled.

“Ranger,” Buzz reminded her, “I specifically assigned XR to that valve because he could take the risk of damage without any lasting effects.”

That, Rachel couldn’t argue with. Maybe the person she should be angry with was herself. Her eyes flicked downward to the pavement.

“Still, that was an admirable display of loyalty for your fellow ranger,” Buzz told her. “I can’t get too mad at you for wanting to protect your teammate and friend. Even if he is infinitely more durable than you are.” He took three steps to get right in front of Rachel. “We’re going to get you back to base for an examination of that shoulder.” Pivoting, he said, “Sorry, Bonnie, but – “

“No,” Rachel said quickly. “Don’t. I don’t need the whole squad to go with me. You’re on a date. Go enjoy it.”

“You, uhhhh…” Buzz regarded Rachel with confusion. “You WANT me to be on a date with Bonnie?”

“If that’s what your heart wants,” she replied, “then – no. Forget it. Just – you’re an adult too. This is your decision.”

“All right,” Buzz told her. Then: “Mira! Booster! XR! Take Rachel back to the Star Command med bay, and watch that shoulder.”

“Right!” Mira responded.

“Righty-o, Buzz!” Booster agreed.

“Consider her shoulder WATCHED,” XR concluded.

Rachel didn’t want to see him. She didn’t want to be anywhere near him. Logically, she was aware that this was completely her fault, but she wanted to pin the blame on XR for making her care, for not caring back, and for unwittingly orchestrating this entire situation without a clue.

Though, that was the thing: unwittingly. He had no way of knowing how angry it made her to see him so casually trying to pick up Bonnie. He had no way of knowing anything. It was all on her. On her, on her, on her –

“So, uh, Rach?”

They’d all begun walking back to cruiser 42, and there he was, right on cue. Rachel looked down to meet XR’s eyes, dealing him a very sour look.

“I reaaaaaaaally owe you one for this,” he told her.

She flinched, surprised. Touched, even. It was only one sentence, and she had no idea if he’d even follow up, but it went miles toward making things better.

***

“You did WHAT?”

Rachel sat on an examination bed, the LGMs crawling about to observe every part of her body they could assess. She was now clad in a loose-fitting tunic and pants rather than her suit; getting them on around her shoulder was more hassle than she’d have liked. The hurting hadn’t subsided; she’d just gotten used to it. Somewhat.

Mira, Booster, and XR were hanging back against the wall, watching the examination go down with concern plastered on all of their faces. Nebula was overseeing, and it was he who was less than happy with Rachel.

“I said,” Rachel sighed, “I hurt my shoulder in a rescue attempt.”

“WHOSE RESCUE ATTEMPT?”

“…XR’s,” she admitted. “I was trying to stop XR from getting shattered by von Madman.” It sounded even worse when she said it out loud.

“Ranger!” Nebula cried – yes, he was angered, but Rachel could still tell from his tone that it stemmed from a place of worry – “XR is literally built to be destroyed and reconstructed! His name stands for ‘Expendable Ranger’!”

“Experimental,” Rachel said without thinking. “It’s ‘Experimental Ranger.’”

She heard a mutter from the wall of “You know you’re in trouble when Dad uses your FULL name…”

“If XR gets blown to bits,” Nebula continued, “we can just build him again from the ground up! We CAN’T do that with YOU! You aren’t replaceable! What if you’d been killed pulling off that maneuver?”

“I know,” Rachel said softly. “I was being a dumbass.”

“LANGUAGE, ranger!”

“Sorry.”

Nebula sighed. “This could’ve been a lot worse. I just don’t wanna see you get hurt permanently from making any more reckless decisions!”

“I’ll play it safer,” Rachel said sheepishly. “I promise.”

“You better. I don’t wanna lose you from the ranks!”

That statement probably should’ve made Rachel feel better, warmer and fuzzier, but it ultimately didn’t do anything to reduce the size of the swirling pit in her stomach. Now she was here having to dance around the fact that she’d nearly gotten herself killed over an unrequited crush, and she was saying this to the head honcho himself. How could she possibly convey to him that she just couldn’t stand seeing XR put in what for an organic would be mortal danger – especially when Nebula was incredibly right and she’d just injured herself needlessly?

“Finished assessment!” one of the LGMs announced.

“What’s the prognosis?” Nebula asked.

“Not broken!” the LGM declared. “Sprain!”

Rachel let out a sigh of relief at that.

“Well, that could’ve been worse,” Nebula remarked. “That can be patched up with a simple enough operation. After that, you’ll have to stay off duty for two weeks.” “TWO WEEKS?” Rachel shrieked. “No. NO. I can’t be off duty for two weeks. Zurg will attack, Torque will run another prison break, NOS-4-A2 will go on a murder spree, this will probably ALL HAPPEN WITHIN THE SAME DAY, and I HAVE TO BE THERE!”

“Two weeks, ranger,” Nebula barked, “and that’s an order!”

All considered, two weeks probably wasn’t bad. Rachel thought she’d heard once that in the old days, before medical technology had advanced to this point, a sprain could have a person out for a month or two. That was unthinkable.

“Get her under,” Nebula demanded. “I want her patched on the double. The sooner she can start the recuperation period, the sooner she can finish.”

“On the double!” several of the LGMs chorused.

She was whisked away before anyone could say anything more. Though she did catch the fading sound of Booster saying, “Gosh, two whole weeks? That’s gonna be tough!” and Mira responding, “Yeah. Poor Rachel. I just can’t – “

They were out of earshot before Rachel could hear whether the one most closely tied to this little debacle had anything to say.

Maybe that was for the best.

***

Since Team Lightyear was on active duty, the four who didn’t have Grade II shoulder sprains remained at base. Rachel, however, was confined to bed in her and Mira’s shared apartment.

“You gonna be okay?” Mira had asked before leaving.

“Yeah,” Rachel sighed.

“You don’t sound convinced,” Mira pointed out.

“Mira,” Rachel reminded her, “I just sprained my fucking shoulder saving an invincible person from a non-fatal experience because of a misguided and one-sided crush. I am as fine as I’m gonna get.”

“Well…” Mira shrugged. “At least your heart was in the right place?”

“I just…hate seeing him get hurt,” Rachel replied. “But don’t tell him that. I am REALLY mad at him now.”

“Lips are zipped!” Mira promised. “Okay. I really do have to get going. Anything I can get you before I leave?”

“Nah,” Rachel replied. “I can at least get to the kitchen and back. That’s all I’m gonna need.”

“’Kay,” Mira said. “I’m heading out.”

“Have fun!” Rachel told Mira, mustering up a small show of happiness.

“As much fun as I can on Tanker Alley duty,” Mira said with a wink. “Be GLAD you’re missing this one.”

Then Rachel’s roommate was gone, and Rachel was left alone to stew. Which she did in silence for about half an hour. Then, realizing she needed to take proactive steps toward not spending two weeks in a swamp of self-pity, she picked up the remote on the bedside table, flicking on the television and opening up the streaming selection.

Her heart skipped a beat when she realized that Bulletproof Hearts: Despair Days had updated by two episodes without her even noticing. That would kill some time and put her mind on something more positive. Would today be the day that Spice Skomaru would finally figure out the mastermind behind the evil horde? Would her premonition of the future finally be given context?

Before Rachel could click the episode into playing, there was a ring at the doorbell.

Solicitors, she thought, or door-to-door religious converters asking her if she’d heard of the gospel of Narflak. So she ignored it.

Only for the doorbell to ring again. And again. And again and again and again and again –

“God dammit,” Rachel muttered as she slid out of bed. At least her pajamas were conservative; if she had to answer the door to sign for a package or anything, she wouldn’t have to worry about the delivery person seeing more than they should. Almost to the door, she had the presence of mind to test the waters by calling out, “WHO’S THERE?”

“ROOM SERVICE!”

She knew that voice. She would be able to pick that voice out of a crowd of one thousand. And there was absolutely no reason for the owner of that voice to be here, now.

In utter disbelief, Rachel opened the door –

And XR breezed into the apartment, nearly knocking her over. “Worry not!” he proclaimed. “Nurse XR is here to tend to your every need!”

Rachel could only stare at him dumbfoundedly.

He shifted from a chipper demeanor to staring her down (insofar as a person could do from a two foot height difference), hands on where hips would have been on a person. “Shouldn’t you be in bed, missy?”

She regained her ability to counter. “If I was in bed, I wouldn’t have been able to open the door, dumbass.”

“I don’t wanna hear aaaaaany more excuses! Back to bed! Go on! Scoot!”

Wondering if she was actually asleep and having a fever dream, Rachel obeyed, walking back into the bedroom and climbing back into the bed – ever more thankful that her pajamas didn’t show much off.

XR followed her into the bedroom, pausing just before the bed to pop his drawer and rummage about in it. “Let’s see here,” he muttered, “I brought one fleece blanket – don’t ask where I got it – one very fluffy pillow – don’t ask where I got it – one Jo-Adian-sized ice pack – don’t ask where I got it – and several extra-strength painkillers not on your prescription; DEFINITELY don’t ask where I got those.”

“I, uh…” Rachel realized she had to give in to the nonsense and stop trying to figure out what in the galaxy was happening. “I could use all of those things except the illegal narcotics.”

“You see, I THOUGHT you might feel that way,” XR remarked, “so I’m just gonna leave them in the drawer in case you want them later – “

“PLEASE DO NOT LEAVE ILLEGAL NARCOTICS IN MY APARTMENT WHERE THEY COULD BE FOUND ON A SWEEP,” Rachel said fiercely.

“Fine,” XR said haughtily, replacing the bag of variously sized and multicolored pills in his drawer. “I’ll keep them with ME unless you change your mind. But if you want them while I’m on mission tomorrow, that’s just too bad for you.”

It took Rachel a moment to stop thinking about how she was already on thin ice for the antidepressants hidden at the bottom of the panty drawer and realize what he’d just said. “On mission…tomorrow? Don’t you have one TODAY? Tanker Alley?”

“About that,” XR replied. “I put in a word with Commander Nebula and I just so happened to mention that I am VERY behind on my paperwork. I have literally MOUNTAINS of reports to file. So I got a free pass for the day in order to get a head start on those hours and hours’ worth of reports that need filing.”

That didn’t exactly clear things up. “So…why are you – “

“Hours and hours’ worth of reports,” XR clarified, “that I’m NOT GOING TO DO.”

“Oh,” Rachel realized. “Wait. So you lied to get a whole day off to – “

“Stop you from going insane having no one to talk to, yes.”

“You say that like talking to you doesn’t inherently make me more insane.”

“Har-dee-har.”

“Did Booster and Mira guilt you into this?” Rachel asked.

“Guilt?” XR repeated. “No! No-ho-hooooo! Not one bit! True, they MIGHT have mentioned on separate occasions that because you got that sprain trying to protect me, that means I’m INDIRECTLY responsible for your injury, in the TECHNICAL sense, but there is no GUILT here. All sincerity, this wasn’t their idea anyway. It was mine.”

“Why?” Rachel asked, dumbfounded.

“Because, like I said,” he reminded her, “I owe you one. One VERY BIG one. And I’m paying you back right now. Now hang on juuuuuuust a minute – “

He breezed around the room, throwing the blanket on top of Rachel and suddenly getting on the bed on her left side to tip her forward and settle the pillow and the absolutely enormous ice pack, and she barely had time to register how erratic her heartbeat became for that moment. Then he was back on the floor, and Rachel had to admit she was much more comfortable.

“You don’t have to do this,” she told him. “I mean, yeah, you do owe me one, but I’m fine. I’m not gonna go stir-crazy. There are new eps of Despair Days, and – “

XR shot a glance at the television. “Bulletproof Hearts?” he realized. “Now THERE’S a nostalgia trip. Are we gathering research for more fanfictions?”

“Let it die.”

“The files may be deleted, but the memories remain, Rach. Distinct memories of Vexyrian, Romyx, and oatmeal.”

“I DON’T EVEN SHIP THEM ANYMORE!” Rachel cried, a bit too loudly.

“What was this even about, anyway?” XR asked.

“Despair Days?” Rachel answered. “It’s a spinoff, actually. It focuses on Spice Skomaru, who’s Red’s half-sister. See, Spice has the ability to predict the future, and that put a bunch of hitmen on her. So when Nort figured out about her powers, he captured her and put her in isolation on an ice planet filled with robots who seem to be brainwashed to try and kill her, but she escaped, and now she’s trying to make her way through the frozen wasteland with – “ She realized she’d been infodumping. “It’s basically the same kind of drama as the main series.”

“That summary doesn’t actually help me,” XR replied. “See, when I asked, I meant what the WHOLE THING was about.”

Rachel gave him an utterly dumbfounded look. “You…don’t know what Bulletproof Hearts is about.”

“Not a clue.”

“We went through that whole incident of you trying to turn my old fanfictions into erotic fiction, and YOU DIDN’T EVEN KNOW WHAT THE SHOW WAS ABOUT.”

“I was aiming to make transformative work! Did I NEED to know what the show was about?”

“Oh my God,” Rachel sighed. “Bulletproof Hearts is – it’s simultaneously the best and worst piece of fiction of our generation. It’s my LIFE. It’s my OBSESSION. And you DON’T KNOW WHAT IT’S ABOUT.”

“Well, forgive me if the summaries of episodes of a television drama aren’t logged in Star Command’s database!”

Another heavy sigh from Rachel before she launched into another infodump: “So Bulletproof Hearts is about these kids who go to an academy to train for fighting evil. Like our academy – well, the academy Buzz, Mira, and Booster went to – but the fantasy version for younger teens who have weirder weapons. They’re divided into four teams that do assignments together, but all sixteen are best friends. The problem is the evil Nort and his flunkies want to challenge the gods and bring the light of hope and the darkness of despair into a clash that will remake the world, so they have to travel around to different planets, get wrapped up in the adventures of the locals, and put together the pieces of how to stop Nort. The problem is that Nort’s right-hand general, Monokrome, tempts them on every planet with a reason to kill each other off, and every so often, she succeeds and one of the kids ends up killing another, and they all have to work together to figure out who the murderer is. The main character, Red Kazora, is seriously my favorite. Like, he’s perfect. He’s this geeky mechanic type who starts out with major trust issues but then kinda falls in platonic love with everybody and makes friends at first sight. His best friend, Snow Hajiku, is more of the deadpan snarky type who seems cold at first, but their dynamic is just SO perfect, and they’re SO in love. Though, actually, Red’s canon love interest is Victory Chiakairi, who has a really troubled past because she – well, that’s a spoiler. But the thing is, she came from – no, that’s also a spoiler. But the whole fan treatment of Victory is complicated because – fuck. Spoiler. Wait. Why am I dancing around spoilers? You are NEVER going to watch this fucking show.”

“I wouldn’t say NEVER!” XR argued. “Now I want to know what my best-seller was going to be based on! Also, you made it sound kind of interesting just now.” He looked back to the television. “You’ve got it streaming?”

“It’s all on demand,” Rachel confirmed. “What, you want to binge it with me?”

Had she seriously just invited him to do that? In her defense, he had all but suggested it himself!

“Well, we have a whole day together, don’t we?” XR reminded her. “Fire it up.”

“XR, this show has a LOT of lore. It’s SUPER fucking complicated. There is a RUNNING FANDOM JOKE about how the plot is overcomplicated and doesn’t make sense to anyone except hardcore fans.”

“Are you saying I can’t keep up with a TV show plot?”

“That is exactly what I’m saying,” Rachel stated.

“Well,” XR replied, “CHALLENGE ACCEPTED.”

In one movement, he had hoisted himself onto the bed next to Rachel’s left side, and the ice pack was overclocking keeping her body temperature down from the proximity. He reclined back on the pillow on that side, hands tucked behind his helmet.

“Okay,” Rachel said, “but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

The problem about showing your special-interest fandom to the guy you liked, who really didn’t seem all that interested in fantasy fiction in the first place, was that if he didn’t end up liking it, you either had to doubt the integrity of your feelings for the fiction or your feelings for the guy. Both of which really deserved to be questioned, in her case, Rachel realized. This may very well have been the worst decision of her life.

Second worst, come to think of it, after getting her shoulder sprained trying to save an immortal robot from getting smashed.

If being attracted to XR was at all her decision, of course, that would be a solid first worst.

Still, she cued up the pilot episode, tense in anticipation of XR’s reaction. “Oh, by the way,” she mentioned, “I’ve seen this, like, a hundred times, so if I start saying the lines out loud along with the characters, smack me on the back of the head.”

“Duly noted. No takesies-backsies on that.”

A click of the remote and they were off.

Two hours in, there was a bowl on Rachel’s lap from which she casually ate popcorn while answering the early-season questions every Bulletproof Hearts rookie had:

“So…Noir hates Snow because…”

“Spoiler.”

“Am I picking up that Amarillo is hiding something?” “Yes.”

“What’s Snow’s specialty again?” “It was never said because you’re not supposed to know.”

“I don’t trust Castella.”

“WAIT FOR IT.”

It occurred to Rachel eventually that XR was not only miraculously following the plot of Bulletproof Hearts, but getting invested in it. That was a load off. This wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

***

“I’m starting to see what you mean about Red and Snow. Seriously, just KISS already.”

“THANK YOU.”

“Though Red and Victory aren’t bad either.”

“Just so long as you don’t ship Red with Castella Komisa.”

“People do that?” “People do that. And it is the literal worst. Besides, Reynard is right there! Why WOULDN’T you put Castella with Reynard?”

“Not seeing THAT chemistry.”

“Right. That’s not until episode seven. Just hang in there.”

***

“So THAT’S your boy toy.”

“ROMYX IS NOT MY BOY TOY.”

“You’re into mullets and eyeliner?”

“No I’m – are you going to make fun of me and Romyx or are you going to watch how actually good of a villain Romyx is?”

“I’m a robot. I’m built to multitask.”

***

“Geez, they wasted no time killing off Romyx, did they?”

“Yeah. He’s kind of an intro villain.”

“Does he come back?”

“No.”

“That’s ALL HE DOES?”

“Yes.”

“Why do you like HIM so much? He barely did anything!”

“BUT HE DID IT WITH SWAG. NOW SHUT UP.”

***

“Well, well, THERE’S a familiar name. …Wait, are you telling me Romyx and Vexyrian never meet?” “Not onscreen, but they both worked for Nort, so obviously – “

“And you wrote such PASSIONATE romance between them.”

“Is this Relive Rachel’s Most Embarrassing Hits hour? No. No it’s not.”

“Now, you see, THIS guy, I can get into as a villain. THIS guy has the chops. And unlike Romyx, he’s actually gonna stick around.”

“Uh…yeah.”

***

“Rach.”

“Yeah.”

“All the villains you love die.”

“I know.”

“Everything you touch dies.”

“Yes it does.”

“I mean, I guess this is something Romyx and Vexyrian actually have in common: they both die WAY too quickly.”

“AHA! SO NOW YOU ADMIT ROMYX WAS GONE TOO SOON!”

“GONE TOO SOON TO ACTUALLY BE A CHARACTER!”

***

The popcorn bowl was refilled.

***

“Well, here’s news for you,” Rachel muttered under her breath along with the villain of the hour. “You’re crying over Noir dying, but she isn’t dead. Because you can’t kill anything that never existed – HEY!”

She had received the lightest, most playful cuff on the back of the head from a metal hand.

“You told me to do that,” XR told her as he faced the screen, deliberately avoiding her look of playful scorn. “And you agreed to no takesies-backsies.”

***

“Sooooo…is now the wrong time to tell you that I actually do think Red is best off with Castella?”

“THAT’S IT. OUT. OUT OF MY APARTMENT NOW. RIGHT NOW. LEAVE THE ICE PACK.”

***

Sniffle. “Rach…when you tell this story later…you don’t tell anyone I cried over Victory.”

“Secret’s safe with me. I cried the first time I saw it, too.”

“She was – she had so much potential! She was so innocent!”

“I know. And it was just the most BULLSHIT death, too.”

“What kind of a HEARTLESS MONSTER is writing this stuff?”

“I might actually invite you onto my BH forum after this.”

“…You’re on a forum?”

“…Maybe.” “Do you still write – “

“NO! Also, you’re disinvited from the forum.”

“Well, THAT’S telling. Looks like I have another pen name to go looking for.”

“NO YOU DO NOT.”

***

“…WHAT?”

“Yes. YEEEEEES.”

“You’re telling me…this whole time…Braigel was…”

“YES! HE WAS! OH MY GOD, I HAVE NEVER ACTUALLY SEEN ANYONE GET BLINDSIDED BY THAT REVEAL IN REAL LIFE! DO YOU KNOW HOW SATISFYING THIS IS?”

“This…explains a few things and yet raises SO many more questions than it answers.”

“WELCOME TO BULLETPROOF HEARTS.”

***

“I never said thank you, did I?”

Rachel didn’t realize, at first, that this wasn’t a comment on the show. “I’M not the one who froze Ashe to death.”

“Not convinced she’s dead, but that’s not what I meant.”

“How could she have survived that?” Rachel said in an attempt to disguise the very obvious plot twist being set up. “And what ARE you talking about?”

“Just this whole business saving me from getting crushed by the crystal creep.”

Rachel froze, not having expected that to come back up. She took a chance to glance over at XR, and sure enough, he was looking at her, not the screen, and her eyes met his softly-glowing yellow lights. She wasn’t sure how to respond at first, but honesty got the better of her: “I just don’t like seeing you get hurt.”

“And let me tell you, does it SMART,” XR confirmed. “Sure, all it takes is a few screws tightened back in place, but it is a MAJOR inconvenience. Admittedly less of an inconvenience than a Grade II shoulder sprain. Which brings me back to my point: I never said thank you.”

She could’ve passed off some kind of reassurance and pretended it didn’t matter, or that she hadn’t noticed. But despite him having said he owed her, and owning up in a roundabout way to the fact that her injury was related to him, he hadn’t once said the specific words “thank you.” He knew that. She knew that. He knew she knew that, she knew he knew she knew that, and ad infinitum. “No,” she said. “You didn’t.”

“Well, I’m saying it now, and you can put this on the record,” XR told her. “Thank you.”

She almost said “you’re welcome” out of habit, but that would imply that he didn’t actually owe her anything for the save, and if he thought he didn’t owe her anything for the save, they wouldn’t be having as much fun as they were right now. What she ended up with was “Don’t make me do it again, dumbass.”

“If Buzz didn’t always assign me the life-threatening half of the job or insist on using me as bait, maybe I wouldn’t HAVE to.”

“Like I keep trying to argue him not to have you do?” She immediately regretted saying that; eventually he would have to figure out that she attempted to look out for him far more than anyone else on the team, and what exactly that meant.

Yet it seemed to have sailed right over XR’s head. “Next time,” he insisted, “I get the cushy job distracting the villain. HE can shut off the volatile circuit.”

“He does actually care, you know,” Rachel said quickly, worrying this would get out of hand; she didn’t want to breed a schism in the team by accident. “He just has to make tough decisions. Being team leader does that. I know I couldn’t handle it.”

“Funny: I KNOW I could handle it. Buuuuuuut I’m not going to gun for the title out of respect.” Which Rachel knew was code for a heavy trust in Buzz’s decision-making and a value of him as a friend.

“The day you become team leader,” Rachel said with a smirk, “is the day I quit.”

“The day you quit,” XR replied, “is the day I get your seat on 42. I’ve always wanted the window view.”

“If you’re at the window, who’s going to run analytics?”

“Like we NEED analytics. Whatever happened to winging it? Improvising? Making it up as we go?”

“You’re forgetting one crucial thing, XR.”

“What? Are you going to try and tell me my analytical skills are irreplaceable and we’d be nowhere without me working in that corner?”

Yes, Rachel thought. That is true. And I’m incredibly jealous of and impressed by how you’re able to crunch the numbers you do. “No,” she replied mischievously. “In this situation, I quit because you’re the captain, so why are you sitting in MY seat when Buzz’s is yours by default?”

“Wh – that wasn’t – “

“Don’t answer: it’s because you’re a dumbass.”

“Oh, you think you’re so smart,” XR huffed.

“I don’t think I’m smart,” Rachel replied. “I KNOW I’m smart.”

“Yeah, well,” XR replied, swiveling his head back to the television, “I’ve got news for you, sister – WHEN DID POSEIDON GET POSSESSED?”

“Shit,” Rachel hissed. “We’re gonna have to rewind a few scenes.”

Spitting vitriol at each other felt strangely comfortable. The insults, insincere at this point. All Rachel had really heard was “I never said thank you.” And all XR had really heard was “I just don’t like seeing you get hurt.”

***

It wasn’t until Rachel started waking up that she realized she’d fallen asleep. When had that happened? Without opening her eyes, she took stock of what had happened, trying to recall exactly when she’d wrapped up last night’s binge and kicked out her irritating if charming houseguest.

Observations: there was a constant stream of noise in the background – the sound of people talking. That was odd. Rachel’s position: propped up rather than laying down, though not as uncomfortable as one would expect, given that her back was against a very soft surface – several pillows, presumably. She’d slumped to the left a stitch, and was leaning on something quite solid.

That was when it hit. She hadn’t wrapped up the Bulletproof Hearts binge. She’d fallen asleep watching it. That was the noise: an episode still playing. Nor had she sent XR packing. He was still there, and she’d fallen asleep leaning against him.

Like the crack of a whip, adrenaline surged through Rachel’s body. Her eyes snapped open; she let out an instinct-driven, blood-curdling scream.

XR had apparently entered sleep mode around the same time she’d dozed off; the sound of the scream jolted his AI out of idling and brought him to consciousness. And when he realized, first of all, that he was being screamed at, and second of all, where he was, his immediate reaction was to let off an almost equally blood-curdling scream.

The symbiotic scream feedback continued for about a minute before both parties involved finally fell silent, staring at each other in panic.

Rachel scrambled for the words that were appropriate for this situation. True, it was completely chaste and innocent, but she’d just spent an entire night (how many hours? When, in fact, had she lost consciousness? Now the memories were becoming clearer; they’d both gone way past midnight, their commentary on the show getting increasingly more boisterous until they’d started getting tired) sleeping in the same bed as the man she had a hopeless and ridiculous crush on, and if there was a single part of her epidermis that wasn’t bright pink with a blush right now, she’d have been very surprised. The ice pack was finally spent, so that didn’t help. Her heart seemed about ready to beat itself to death and pop right out through her sternum, thundering in her veins.

As usual, however, XR had words where others would be speechless. “All right, all right,” he said in a tone that might have sounded breathless if he actually needed to breathe, “just calm down. Yes, apparently we fell asleep like that. But what matters here is that neither of us did, said, or meant anything that would make this at all what it looks like from the outside.” And he was adamant about that.

Did? Of course not. Said? Nope. Meant? Depended on your definition and whether or not you were referring to something sexual or something simply stirring to the heart. Rachel shoved that aside. “And…nobody saw,” she added. “We’re alone. It’s fine. It’s fine! This isn’t weird!” Her voice cracked, slipping into falsetto. “IT’S NOT WEIRD!” Trying to drown out that accursed heartbeat.

“No,” XR told her, now perfectly calm and cocky as per usual. “It is most certainly NOT, so you can dial it down a notch.”

She paused. Bit her lip. Said the next words in a low, semi-chilled tone: “You’re the worst pillow in existence.”

“Well, if I’d have known I was going to have an organic try and use me as one, I MIGHT have been generous enough to activate an airbag.”

“I did not TRY – “ Rachel grit her teeth. “Did I go out first or did you?”

“I don’t remember!” XR protested. “All I know is we ran out of commentary, I’m reading an episode title card, next thing you know, I’m off to dreamland with the electric sheep.”

Rachel leaned her head back against the wall. “This never happened.”

“The only thing anyone needs to think I fell asleep on is that mountain of paperwork that’s still sitting on my desk.”

Rachel flinched. “There’s actual paperwork you’re behind on, isn’t there?”

“Well, gee, I happen to be DOWN ONE COPY EDITOR, so yes, there is.”

“I forgot you’d actually have to try and write at at least a third-grade reading level for two weeks.”

“Excuse you; I’m up to a fourth-grade level at LEAST.”

Arguing pettily put them back on their usual level. The awkwardness was subsiding, at least on Rachel’s part. On XR’s? She couldn’t read him. He didn’t seem fazed, but was that really a surprise? The bigger surprise was that he hadn’t tried to make some kind of lewd comment out of this. That, once again, brought Rachel to the eternal conundrum of being glad he didn’t obviously ogle her and yet frustrated that she was the only woman he didn’t.

She glanced over to the clock. “You have to get moving, don’t you?”

“Well, not for another hour and a half,” he admitted. “If you wanted to yell at one more episode for a palate cleanser. I’m just saying.”

A cleansed palate was exactly what Rachel needed right now. “I’m down,” she stated. “Where’d you leave off?”

“Where’d YOU leave off?” “It literally does not matter,” she reminded him. “I’ve seen this show a hundred times, remember?” She took the remote in hand, barely able to hold it steady with the shaking. How had it gotten this bad again? Less than twenty-four hours ago, they were just lounging with each other on the bed like normal friends, and Rachel had felt less jittery and far more comfortable with XR than she could’ve hoped for at this point. Now that had just been erased like a chalkboard swiped with a soaking sponge. She managed to pause the running television: no mean feat.

“The last thing I saw was the title card for Funhouse of Horrors,” XR related.

So she’d gone out first, Rachel realized, but only by a few minutes. Maybe fifteen. Then the topic she should’ve been concerned with immediately sprang to her lips: “Wait. Funhouse of Horrors? THAT episode? Oh, that is NOT an episode you just watch and LEAVE.”

“I feel like you’re implying I can’t handle it.”

“IT’S A TERRIBLE CLIFFHANGER.”

“Please. I eat cliffhangers for breakfast.”

“That…literally makes no sense, XR.” She flicked through the menu. “But it’s your funeral.”

***

The ending of the episode, as Rachel had predicted, left XR staring slack-jawed (or the equivalent when one’s jaw was hinged) at the screen. She stopped the credits roll, letting him gape in silence for a moment as her smirk grew ever smugger.

At last, he managed, “Okay. Who did it?” “Spoilers,” Rachel said mischievously.

“I mean it,” XR urged. “Who killed Oregano?”

“SPOI…LERS.”

“Now you and I both know this is the time when I have to take my leave, as much as I know you’ll miss me.” (You have no idea, Rachel thought.) “Just give me the name of the murderer and I’ll be on my merry way.”

“I’m not telling you,” Rachel replied. “If you wanna know, you’re gonna have to watch it yourself. You’re IN now, so I’m not going to ruin it.”

“Okaaaay, new angle. Obviously, you’re not going to tell me who KILLED Oregano, so at least tell me how he DIED.”

“Nnnnope,” Rachel held out.

“Come on, you can at least confirm if it was the same person who unleashed the genetically modified ghost army.”

“No I can’t.” Rachel was enjoying this far too much.

“Look,” XR practically snapped, “you and I both know that without Oregano’s expertise, none of the rest of them are going to be able to get through that casino-themed torture chamber. Not to mention while they’re all starving to death. And even if they do, Ashe is waiting on the other side with Larxeo, which I have to admit was a REALLY poetic touch, giving her Romyx’s leather jacket like that, REALLY made you feel for the villains for once, but if you’re GOING to leave me on that note, at least tell me WHO…KILLED…OREGANO.”

Rachel made a motion of zipping her mouth shut and locking it with a padlock.

“You’re heartless,” XR accused.

Rachel nodded in affirmation.

“I’m going to be thinking about this all day,” XR continued as he shifted off the bed, treads hitting the floor. “And if this throws me off my game, it’s gonna be your fault.”

She dealt him the most wicked grin she could muster.

“Well, I’m on patrol,” he relented. “What are you gonna do?”

“Probably catch up on those last two eps of Despair Days,” Rachel answered, “then slip back into a coma for another twelve hours. …A NON-NARCOTIC-INDUCED COMA.”

“Well, good luck with that,” XR told her. “My work here is done.”

All she could say at first was “Um, yeah.”

“And with that,” XR declared jovially, “your doting caretaker bids you adieu.” A playful bow.

“Wait,” Rachel said before he could leave.

“Yeeees?”

This was one of those times when it was hard to drop the banter and just be honest with him. Yet it was crucial. “Thanks for visiting. I had a lot of fun.”

“The pleasure was mine,” XR replied with a wink. “You know, we should really hang out more often.”

“For the record, you don’t actually drive me insane to talk to.”

“I knew that, Rach. And, full disclosure, you’re a real pal, got that?”

That was almost more meaningful than an I-love-you. “I got it. Now get out of here before I come to my senses and stop being honest.”

“Consider me gone.”

And then he was. She heard the apartment door open, then click shut, and Rachel was alone, half wondering if she’d hallucinated the past day.

Letting herself smile because he really did like her, after all, even if it wasn’t exactly the way she could’ve asked for, and they had just spent hours upon hours together, she went back to the final two episodes she’d been meaning to watch from the beginning.

The cutoff point ended with exactly as many dangling plot threads as the rest of the show, and that gave Rachel’s mind plenty to grind on as she settled back down into the bed, ready to fall asleep in a more comfortable position and kill as much time as she could that way, now that she had no one to talk to.

A familiar scent twitched at her nostrils, and it suddenly occurred to her that she hadn’t drawn the conclusion of its presence two hours ago. It very faintly smelled like the pillow next to her was smoldering. Of course. XR had been laying on it for hours; his burned-marshmallow scent had transferred right over to it.

Rachel’s left hand grabbed at the pillow, drawing it up to her face. Up close, it definitely smelled like it had a lit match dropped onto it at some point, though the fabric was undamaged, yet again suggesting, bafflingly, that the scent was not the sign of some malfunction. Now Rachel had two choices. She could go full tsuntsun and chuck that pillow to the far end of the room, to be forgotten about until laundry day. Or she could fall asleep hugging it like some kind of perverted stalker. (A taste of his own medicine, hm?) Just putting it back in place was not an option.

Throw it, she told herself. Increase the denial.

What won was the argument was that it wasn’t that creepy, really, not when she didn’t have actual predatory intentions – just to have a sensory input that reminded her of someone she liked being around.

Sleep took her over as she cradled that pillow close, breathing in what could have been the odor of the aftermath of an arson scene.

***

Rachel was awoken by the sound of the doorbell. After the first ring, she waited a moment to see if another barrage of ringing would follow.

Instead, when she didn’t answer, it was a sharp knocking that came at the door. A slight disappointment.

She crept out of bed, calling out tentatively, once more, “WHO IS IT?”. What time was it, anyway? A glance at the clock told her it was ten at night.

“DELIVERY FOR RACHEL SPARKS!” That actually was the voice of the regular deliveryman. All hope was doused. Then again, receiving a package was a pretty rare event. Rachel couldn’t imagine what the delivery was. As covert as she’d tried to make her antidepressant acquisition, she hadn’t scheduled anything for this time.

Prying open the door, she saw the deliveryman smiling his biggest at her; did this guy seriously mean it every time he smiled like that, or was it a façade to hide an ennui with his job? She hoped it was the former. “What’s up?” she asked.

“Rachel!” the deliveryman greeted. “Special delivery just for you! It was just sent out this evening!” He extended a clipboard.

“I, uh…” Rachel gave him a sheepish look. “Can’t really use my right hand right now. Can we just do the retinal scan and call it good?”

“Sure thing!” He acquiesced; a mild laser made Rachel’s eye twitch but confirmed her identity enough for the package to be handed over. It was stuffed into a bubble-wrap-lined manila envelope, barely small enough to be contained by its manila skin. Rachel had a strong guess that it was a tape based on that. Goodness knew she’d tried to mail tapes that way before. Who hadn’t?

She told the deliveryman thank you, and he gave her a jovial “Haaaave a nice day!” before gallivanting off into the night, hopefully not to stay out too late making other deliveries.

Rachel shut and locked the door, bringing the envelope back to the bed to open it up as best she could with one hand (which turned out to be a bit of an ordeal; her teeth got involved). As she’d thought, it was a tape: unlabeled. That could mean anything from an anonymous death threat to a video will informing her she’d inherited two million unibucks from a great-uncle she’d never heard of.

She inserted it into the player, tuning the television to the proper reception signal and clicking the tape into play.

It began with a countdown of a “3…2…” on a spinning gray circle that had obviously been added in post-production. The next thing Rachel knew, she was looking at a view of Buzz Lightyear, Mira Nova, and Booster Munchapper on a desert plain, all three of them smiling in her direction.

“AAAAAAND WE ARE ROLLING!” XR’s voice declared; Rachel realized he was the one filming, probably right through his eyes. “Spotlight’s on you, people! Let’s hear it with FEELING!”

“Hi, Rachel!” Mira began, waving.

“How’re ya doing?” Booster asked before realizing, “Wait…you can’t answer. Sorry.”

“It’s just not the same without you, ranger,” Buzz added. “But thanks to XR here, today, you get to sit back, relax, and keep healing while we do the dirty work.”

“And you get a front-row seat to all the action!” Booster agreed. “And boy, is this a big one today.”

“Way, WAY bigger than Tanker Alley,” Mira added. “Sorry you have to miss it, but, then again, this also means you don’t have to have your life threatened today, so…silver lining?”

“It’s life-threatening indeed,” Buzz stated somberly. “We’re on a mission to stop Zurg from engineering a duplicate of the Motzrothian senator and using his guise to order lax labor laws – “

“Come on!” XR urged. “Can’t you make this all a little more DRAMATIC? The EVIL EMPEROR ZURG has accessed superior cyborg cloning technology that, in the wrong hands, could bring the entire galaxy to ruination, AND IT HAPPENS TO BE IN THE WRONG HANDS! Only the bravest team in all of Star Command has any hope whatsoever of stopping him! And the key to Zurg’s destruction lies with one man in particular: the bravest, most intelligent, and most ATTRACTIVE robot to ever cross his path – “

“Okay, we’re stopping there,” Mira interrupted.

That was when a hover platform bearing Zurg floated down from the sky behind the team, and the evil emperor himself pointed accusingly: “LIGHTYEAR! So you and your team of has-beens decided to show up after all! It’s about time! I was expecting you thirty minutes ago! Does punctuality mean NOTHING to you hero types? Oh, well, no matter. There’s still PLENTY of time for you to hear about how I’ve factored your demise into my newest fiendish plan!”

“Yeah, why don’t you tell us what you’re planning to do?” Mira asked innocently.

“Gladly,” Zurg told her. “For, you see, I want you to have a chance to DREAD the excruciating pain I have in store for you.”

In a low whisper that Rachel knew only she could hear, XR narrated, “A classic gambit. Our heroes trick the overly egotistical villain into bragging about exactly what he plans to do to them…” He’d begun rolling, moving gingerly away from Zurg. “…giving their secret weapon, i.e. me, a chance to find the evil device he’s planted on this planet, disable it before he notices, and then – “

“OH, NO, YOU ABSOLUTELY DON’T!” Zurg suddenly bellowed mid-monologue. The camera whirled; Zurg was pointing directly at XR. “You think you can get your ROBOT to slip away while I’m instilling dread!” Suddenly he’d zoomed right up before XR, filling the screen. “Just for that, I’m upgrading your torture to the DELUXE package. Intense pain, simultaneous psychological torment, and I get a smoothie. You’ll WISH you were going through your friends’ basic torture package.”

“Speaking of my friends,” XR said cockily, leaving it at that.

“Wait – “ Zurg spun a 180, and XR peeked around him to capture on film that while Zurg was distracted threatening XR, the other three had scattered. “WHHHHHAT?”

“Man, is this guy a moron,” XR commented.

“WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME?” Zurg screamed, turning back to XR.

“To put it in context,” XR explained, “I’m filming this for a friend, hence the narration.”

“Wait a minute,” Zurg realized. “Is it the blonde ranger? The one whose name I can never remember? Because I NOTICED she wasn’t here today, but I wasn’t about to SAY anything. I was rather hoping she’d perished when I wasn’t looking, though. But maybe it’s better this way. I mean, now I do get the pleasure of killing her myself. Eventually. Whenever she shows – NO. ENOUGH STALLING!”

He knocked XR into the sand before taking off to pursue the others.

Rachel watched the entire mission play out, from Zurg thinking he had the upper hand to his eventual foiling and his rocketing away, crying, “CURSE YOU, BUZZ LIGHTYEEEEAAAR!”. Rachel did in fact wish she were there to live out the magic herself, but really, this was the next best thing.

“All right, team,” Buzz directed, looking to the wreckage of Zurg’s cyborg cloning device (which admittedly did make Rachel curious as to how exactly it worked). “Time to get this evidence wrapped up and confiscated before some other miscreant comes along and – “

“Oh, you think you’re gonna pack this all up and ship it off, do ya?” a deep voice broke in. XR’s camera swiveled immediately to observe a familiar figure holding up the device’s energy core in one hand and hovering the other over his chest plate. “I got a better idea. I sell this back to Zurg for the big bucks, and whichever ones of ya I don’t finish off here, he gets to later.”

“TORQUE!” Buzz, Mira, and Booster chorused.

“Now, how’s THAT for a plot twist?” XR cried triumphantly.

Team Lightyear was soon engaged in a battle against the Torque Armada, which was at least seven strong – Rachel kept losing track of exactly how many duplicates were on the field. At one point, one of the Torques was advancing upon XR, declaring, “Now, you, baby, you’re some high-tech stuff. I could use your components.”

“Hold on,” XR replied, which halted Torque in his tracks. “Could you say that again, but a little louder, with more clarity? And try to sound a little more threatening. You’re the villain here, after all.”

“Huh?” Torque regarded XR with confusion. “Hey, wait…you filmin’ this?”

“You may have noticed we’re one short today,” XR informed him. “I’m sending this back to her so she can be here without being here, if you catch my drift.”

“Oh, this is for Blondie, ain’t it?” Torque realized. “We-he-hell…” He drew himself upright, puffed out his chest, and stood at an angle. “Be sure to get my good side.”

“Any well-wishes for our out-of-commission teammate?” XR asked.

“Yeah, I got one,” Torque affirmed. “Hey you, Blondie, you keep on keepin’ on, ya hear? Even when the chips are down and it seems hopeless, ya gotta keep fightin’ the good fight. For instance, you’re probably gonna feel real down after I STRIP YOUR LITTLE ROBOT CAMERAMAN FOR PARTS.”

That prompted XR to whirl about and head in the opposite direction as quickly as he could, crying out, “THAAAAAT’S ENOUGH OF TORQUE’S CLOSE-UP!”

Rachel couldn’t help but giggle. After all, she knew he (and the entire team, for that matter) had come out of this okay, or the tape wouldn’t have gotten edited and sent back to her.

After Torque was subdued, the camera suddenly cut to a view from atop a high plateau; down below, in the desert, four figures were battling. Rachel recognized them as Buzz, Mira, Booster, and someone she really should’ve expected at this point.

“So, it turns out that our viewing audience was one hundred percent correct,” XR narrated. “Zurg, Torque, and NOS-4-A2 did in fact all strike on the same day. Now, since NOSy is a particularly tough enemy with a sordid history with Star Command, I thought the epic showdown was best filmed from more of a wide angle bordering on bird’s-eye. After all, I don’t want to get cl – YOU don’t want to miss a second of this action! As usual, of course, our heroes are getting the upper hand, and – where’d he go? No, seriously, where is he?”

NOS-4-A2 had disappeared from the battlefield, and Rachel could see that Buzz, Mira, and Booster were all exchanging shrugs and searching for him in a panic.

All of a sudden, NOS-4-A2’s face filled the camera, a sly grin plastered across his face. “Playing a little game of hide-and-seek, are we, little one? Hm?” he chuckled. “I do so enjoy the thrill of the chase.”

The last thing Rachel heard before the visuals cut out was XR yelping “OKAYYOUFOUNDMEYOUWONNOWLEAVEMEALONE – “

The immediate next scene was of NOS-4-A2, powered down and clamped into iron bands that bound his limbs and prevented him from spreading his wings. “I never doubted for a minute we’d get him,” XR proclaimed. “Of course, it was my idea to play the sitting duck and draw him in so the others could make their move. YOU’RE WELCOME!”

“I thought it was us who saved you,” Booster said in legitimate confusion. “You were REALLY scared – “

“WAS NOT,” XR argued.

Mira chuckled. “I think we’ll leave Rachel to make that call. She probably knows EXACTLY what happened on that subject.”

Rachel did know exactly what had happened. He was a fraidy-cat moron. He was her personal favorite fraidy-cat moron.

One more shot of the team grouped up, smiling and waving. “Sorry again you had to miss that, Rachel!” Booster cried.

“I hope you’re feeling better!” Mira added. “And I hope you had fun watching XR get chased around by all the bad guys!”

“That is an INCREDIBLE oversimplification of what happened,” XR argued.

“Lookin’ forward to when you can join us on the adventure again,” Buzz concluded. “Now you get some rest, Rachel.”

“And so concludes another epic episode of The Adventures of Team Ligh – no, wait,” XR mused, “there has to be a better title for this. Star Command’s Ranger Lightyear? Buzz Lightyear and the Rangers. No, wait, BUZZ LIGHTYEAR OF ST – actually, scrap that: THE ADVENTURES OF XR, ROBOT RANGER.”

The giggle that came out of Rachel’s throat was riding on a snort.

“Aaaaand SCENE!” With that final declaration, the tape ended.

Rachel made a childishly high squeal. He’d really thought to tape the mission for her so she wouldn’t miss out. She could hardly have been happier at that point.

Way past midnight, again. Time to get back to sleep. Cuddling that burned-marshmallow-smell pillow even tighter; who was around to judge?

***

The doorbell rang.

Rachel had lost all sense of time. There was sleep, there was the state of waking, and there was the doorbell to facilitate the transition from one to the other.

The doorbell again. And again. And again –

Perhaps she was a little too eager to leap out of bed. Her shoulder twinged, reminding her that she had to take it slow. Without even asking who was there, she opened the door.

XR sped right past her once again, parking in the midst of the living room and swiveling to face her. “How’s the patient?” he asked, his seemingly chipper smile betraying a hint of hidden frustration. “Feeling better? Resting up? Getting her strength back? On the mend? WHO KILLED OREGANO?”

“So THAT’S what this is about,” Rachel laughed. “And you did SUCH a good job of not letting it show that cliffhanger was bothering you in the tape.”

“There’s a time for business and a time to resolve cliffhangers,” XR explained. “So are we going to or not?”

“I am SO looking forward to seeing your face when you see this revelation,” Rachel said with a grin.

“Ten minutes for popcorn and I’m there,” XR told her. Rachel was at first flattered again that he was concerned with supplying her with food until she remembered that he continually, bafflingly forgot that he couldn’t eat food. It always was rather humorous to watch him try.

They settled on the bed in their previous configuration. Rachel had discreetly put the pillow back where it had been, feeling almost sneaky in hiding how she’d cradled it in her good arm for the past two nights. XR had at least had the presence of mind to tote a second ice pack – or, perhaps, at this stage, it was a little more than “at least.” Rachel shoveled a fistful of the popcorn that XR was seconds away from remembering the hard way that he couldn’t eat into her own mouth, clicking the next episode of Bulletproof Hearts into play.

When the mystery was solved (“AN ELEVATOR? Also, I was SURE Castella was behind this one!”) and the action had died down a bit, Rachel asked, “What was your excuse this time?”

“Well, without you to manage the spreadsheets,” XR explained, “we have a huge backlog of spreadsheets that need to be organized. Which I took it upon myself to do. And that’s what you’re going to tell Nebula if he calls and asks where I am.”

Why would he call here to ask where you are? Rachel wondered. It’s not like anyone outside the team would draw a connection between me and you. Then, suddenly stricken with dread: “XR, these are fake spreadsheets you made up to get a day off, right? They don’t actually exist, right? WE DON’T ACTUALLY HAVE A BACKLOG OF SPREADSHEETS I’M GONNA NEED TO DO WHEN I GET BACK ON DUTY, RIGHT?”

XR was dead silent, staring ahead at the screen.

“XR. DO…THESE…SPREADSHEETS…EXIST?”

His head swiveled to face her, his eyes appearing half-lidded with emerald light (really, Rachel couldn’t be the only person in the world who noticed how many colors his eye-lights could be, could she?), and he said in the least reassuring tone possible, “SPOILERS.”

***

For the next two weeks, some days, he was there, and it was a neverending stream of snark at the television. Bulletproof Hearts was finished –

“Am I supposed to feel satisfied or disappointed about that finale? Because both of those are gunning for it.”

“I dunno what the crew intended, but that’s EVERY fan’s reaction.”

Despair Days knocked out –

“So does Spice ever, you know, join the actual main plot?”

“Not yet. But there ARE rumors of an official next season of BH in production. Nothing confirmed, of course, but – “

“And you just HAD to get me to the point where that would actually affect me, didn’t you?”

And after that, just whatever they could find that either was relatively interested in watching, or, more appropriately, interested in yelling and/or laughing at in between synchronized slurps of diet orange soda and 0W SAE J300.

Some days, he wasn’t there, but at the end of the day, there was always, always a tape chronicling whatever expedition Rachel had missed that day, complete with requests of well-wishes from whoever XR crossed paths with. So far, he’d managed to accumulate:

· A sullen “Don’t die” from Dr. Furbanna.

· A tirade from Eon about how fragile primitive lifeforms were, and how he couldn’t imagine living in a body where stressing out a single shoulder could put you out for more than an hour.

· A “Gargantia wishes its hero well!” from Ambassador Major.

· A “GARGANTIA SPITS ON YOUR NAME!” from Monumentus.

· A gruff “You better be staying in bed, ranger. Oh, and get well soon.” from Commander Nebula, with a chorus of chirps from the LGMs in the background.

· An “Isn’t that the blonde one? Okay, yeah, feel better!” from Petra.

· A “GOOD. I mean, oh, yes, of course, I have no reason to NOT want you pursuing me!” from Rentwhistle Swack.

· An “XL is destroying everything, and you want me to say WHAT?” from Savy SL-4.

· An “I’m trying to destroy everything, and you want me to say WHAT?” from XL.

· An “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” from Warp Darkmatter while Evan Aries discreetly made a heart shape with his hands in the background, aiming it at Rachel with a sheepish expression.

The more the days progressed, Rachel thought, she really ought to lighten up on calling XR a dumbass. He’d more than made up for being the reason for her sprain in the first place. This while chastely cuddling her pillow that now smelled like it had been tossed on a barbecue grill.

***

Finally, she regained the mobility in her shoulder, with only a light tenderness to remind her of the damage, and that would fade soon. Medical cleared her for duty, and she reunited with the rest of Team Lightyear in the mess hall.

“Good to have you back, Rachel!” Buzz just about gave her a hearty clap on the right shoulder – then remembered and repositioned himself to deal the affectionate blow to her left instead. “It just isn’t the same without all five of us on the team. It’ll be good to have XR back, too.” He shot a glance toward XR. “Not that I don’t approve of you taking time off to spend with Rachel, since…you know…”

“It WAS his fault she got hurt,” Mira said coldly.

“Hey now!” XR protested. “We talked about this!”

“I was going to say because he’s a good friend,” Buzz finished. “And that’s what good friends do. Not that we’re not ALL good friends, but we couldn’t have taken the entire team off the field, and XR was the one who volunteered – “

“I getcha,” Rachel said with a nod. “Don’t worry. I’m not gonna hold up your analyst anymore. Provided he doesn’t sprain anything else on me.”

“I make no promises,” XR replied, “but I will try my DARNEDEST. Yes, I said DARNEDEST, so you know I’m serious.”

“How’d chilling out without us go, by the way?” Mira asked, and Rachel could see the question she was really asking written on her face.

“Yeah!” Booster echoed, obviously picking up the same thread. “Did anything SPECIAL happen while you two were hanging out?”

As Rachel, positioned behind XR, frantically made “please no” gestures at the gossipy pair, slicing her hands through the air, XR replied, “As a matter of fact, yes.”

Even Rachel froze, wondering what he was referring to and hoping against hope - “Rachel ruined my life by getting me addicted to her stupid show and now I can’t actually not care about what’s going to happen next season.”

Rachel’s heart restarted beating.

XR swiveled to look up to her; “You’re SURE we don’t have an airdate on that, by the way?”

“Not until they finish Despair Days,” Rachel asserted.

“Yes,” XR snarked, “because we need to focus on this side plot that has NOTHING to do with the remnants of Nort’s plan, has NO connection to Ashe and Braigel picking up the pieces with the relics, and won’t even ADDRESS the fact that Spice and Red are related and whether that means Spice has the golden eyes. I HATE that you made me actually know what I’m talking about.”

“BUT…IF SPICE AND VERTHANDI BECOME CANON …”

“Then a thousand fanfictions will be written,” XR said with a smirk, “and it will be that much easier to find your new pen name.”

God forbid. That would lead him to GEAvillain and a whole can of worms that needed to stay shut. “You’ll never find me,” she said cheekily, covering up the panic associated with the hypothetical that he might, in fact, figure out the identity of JCMotzroth. Changing the subject by force, she looked Buzz in the eye. “Sooooo. How are things with Bonnie?”

“We, uh…” Buzz rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “We kinda…sorta…didn’t work out.”

“Oh,” Rachel replied. She’d seen that one coming a mile off, but that didn’t lessen the pain for him, and she knew it. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no,” Buzz explained, “I was the one who called it off. There was just no spark there. Pun not intended. Anyway, you were right. I shouldn’t have said yes. Only reason I did was because I didn’t wanna let her down, but it just…well, it didn’t feel right after our history! I should’ve just listened to you – “

Rachel’s stomach began to stir. Being right wasn’t the victory she’d hoped it would be. First of all, it still couldn’t have been easy on Buzz to figure out the relationship was going nowhere. Second, she’d almost put stock in him and Bonnie changing her mind. If Bonnie could turn Buzz’s interest her way, certainly that meant there wasn’t any harm in Rachel putting the subject on the table regarding a certain someone else.

A certain someone else who chose that moment to say “And WHEN are you going to learn that Rachel and I are always, always, ALWAYS right?”

That broke the spell. “HEY!” Rachel yelled down at XR. “You weren’t with me on that one at ALL!”

“Yes, I was,” XR argued. “I definitely didn’t want those two to date. I believe I made that PERFECTLY clear.”

“Yeah, because you wanted Bonnie for YOURSELF,” Rachel argued. “Not because you thought she was making Buzz uncomfortable!”

“I knew she was making him uncomfortable, which is why I so GRACIOUSLY stepped in to divert her attention – “

“Bull SHIT.”

“It’s all back to normal around here, all right,” Mira said teasingly.

Heading out of the mess hall, XR told Rachel, “You know, now that you’ve made a diehard Bulletproof Hearts addict out of me, I have to pay you back.”

“What do YOU have that you could POSSIBLY get me into?” Rachel asked.

“I bet I could make a gambler out of you,” XR teased, knowing full well that had a snowball’s chance in the sun’s core of happening.

“Yeah, no,” Rachel told him. “Keep dreaming.”

“Wanna bet? Ten unibucks says you get into it.”

“I’ll take tha – OHHHH. I SEE WHAT YOU ARE TRYING TO DO. AND IT IS NOT GOING TO WORK. NO BET.”

They glared at each other, as was customary, before their expressions softened, allowing each other a smile.

Far be it from Rachel to sacrifice a good friendship over feelings she had no business even having. All the same, it felt sour within to know that she could never tell him. She wasn’t about to become his Bonnie Lepton. And she wasn’t about to be his mistake.

#selfship #electric love #xrach

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