An Atom And A Star Chapter 1 - Falling Apart In Daylight
Cws: Grief, implied character death
I wouldn't mind
If I can't find, I can't find
Anything to save our kind
All the pieces of my body is gone
Look at me now
I'm falling apart in daylight
All the pieces that I have lost I have loved - "Soulless Creatures", Aurora
· · â ·â¶Â· â · ·
"Hey, hatchling. How ya holding up?"
Hal let their axe sink into the vine beneath them. It cleaved easily, but the blow still barely left a dent.
"Busy right now, Esker."
"Oh, and I suppose ya just forgot your radio was set to my channel?"
Hal laughed, or tried to. It felt more like choking. They cleared their throat. "Umm, yeah, something like that."
Esker let the silence drag on a little too long. If they think they can pressure me into talking, they've got another thing coming. If there was one thing Rhy... if there was one thing they'd learned, it was stubbornness.
"So. Ya seen Gabbro around?"
Of course it was about them. "Nope." It was only a half lie. Their hatchmate had made themself pretty scarce since coming back from Giant's Deep.
"Goss is just worried, is all. Ya noticed them acting... different?"
Hal leaned on the handle of their axe. This was clearly going to be a whole conversation. "Not really. Gabbro's Gabbro. You know."
Esker let the conversation stall again, long enough that Hal almost hoped they'd just resume their whistling.
"Porphy said you've been dodging em like they've got spring fever."
Hal's ears flattened. "Look, Esker, I'm really busy." Just imagining their older friend's eyes - so concerned and sad - made centipedes crawl into their vocal folds. They coughed. Tektite had noticed their change in demeanor and was picking their way around debris to reach them. It felt like the thorny vines were buried in their chest instead of the ground beneath their feet. Esker inhaled over the line as if to speak, then just sighed.
"We care about ya, hatchling. But nobody can support you if you don't... I just wish either of you..." Esker's voice trailed off. Hal could have sworn they heard for a moment the same exhaustion they'd seen in the faces of all their elders. "Maybe you should talk to Goss about it. That's all. They might understand more than you think."
Hal rubbed their fangs over their lower lip. Nope. Tektite had reached their position. "Why don't you take a break, eh?"
Much worse than the admonishment they'd expected. Hal knew their emotions were written all over their face and they hated it. "Nah, I'm alright. Just checking in with Esker. They get lonely up there." They forced a smile. Tektite squeezed their shoulder, probably harder than necessary.
"Haven't seen you drink water all day, so that's an order." Now Marl was looking in their direction with all four eyes, Ears pricked, brow furrowed. Frustrated, Hal pulled the respirator off their face so they could speak more clearly.
"If what Gabbro said is true-" And that was a big if "we need to get this thing cleared as fast as possible. I'm fine, I have my own water." Water they mostly weren't drinking, since it was such a pain to move away from the worksite, take off the respirator, all just for some lukewarm water that had been sitting in a flask all day.
"Well I better see you using it." Tektite moved away again, resuming their work. But Hal caught their upper eyes straying back to their position. Hal huffed and took a perfunctory sip of their water which tasted like shit and re-secured the respirator over their nose and mouth. Gossan had insisted on the extra safety measure after Gabbro mumbled out an explanation that was mostly nonsense but involved words like "vacuum" and "wormhole".
Honestly, it's like everyone's hit their head. Is this what it was like when Feldspar... they shook their head furiously as if they could rattle the thought loose. Maybe YOU need to hit your head, Hal. The movement had unintentionally captured the attention of their working companions, again. They put their head down and got back to work.
· · â ·â¶Â· â · ·
It was just past sunset when Tektite called off work for the day. The light was just too low. The late summer air hung heavy, the last vestiges of twilight clinging to the horizon in shades of lupine blue and winged insects crawled along the surface of the lamps used to light the path back to the village. Hal trailed behind the rest of the group. Tuff had joined them halfway through the day, and Hal had no motivation to pretend to be interested in the whispered tones of gossip between their hatchmates.
They paused at the top of the hill, eyes scanning the horizon of the crater. It was stupid habit, but the lightless void at the top of the village felt like a hole in their stomach. "Meet me after work, ok? I'll light a lantern." They turned their gaze upwards instead, watching the stars winking on one by one. Their hand fell to their radio, and they flipped through the channels absently.
Esker whistling.
"Yes, quite sure-"
"Hmm... that's odd... I'm-"
"Day off might be good-"
"Ground control to Rhyolite. This is an automated-"
They hit the off button so hard their finger hurt. They huffed out a few breaths. At some point, they'd sunk to their haunches. They forced themself back to their feet over the screaming in their lungs. I can breathe. I can breathe. I can breathe. They wandered down the village path, eyes half-focused on the ground, upper eyes flickering from place to place as if they'd spot a predator in the shadows. Just don't draw attention to yourself. Thank stars dinner's over.
"I can't tell you where they are because I don't know"
The raised voice cut through their dazed mind like water. Hal found themself drawing closer to the lit cabin window, hovering just out of its line of sight.
"You could at least help look for them" Hornfels sounded furious. "This isn't like you. You're unreliable but you've never returned from a mission early."
"Yeah well -" There was a growl, a sound of primal frustration and pain. "I can't you don't -" the speaker paused, panting for a second. "you can't understand."
Is that Gabbro ? It definitely was, the cadence and timbre left little doubt of that. Just... Hal had never heard them like this. In all the years growing up together, Gabbro had rarely shown their feelings. This was entirely different. The emotion spilling from Gabbro's voice made Hal's throat want to close again. It resonated deeply.
"I understand enough. Whatever happened with you two, this is unacceptable. Rhyolite is MIA and you want to what - abandon them?"
"I know they're not coming back but you won't listen to a word I say!" Gabbro gathered themself a little, frustration masking the raw pain beneath.
"I don't know what you're implying by that. I know you aren't suggesting Rhyolite would hurt themself." Hornfels' voice was darker. Hal instinctively made themself smaller beneath the window frame. There were sounds of shuffling inside.
"And I know you weren't suggesting I hurt them when you said 'whatever happened between you two'" A few seconds of seething silence passed. Hal wanted to creep away. This seemed like it was going to end in a fight. Should they call someone? Who could they call? Their body was frozen, rooted to the ground like a tree.
"I fucking told you what happened." Gabbro's voice was a little calmer.
"What you told me is delusional." Hornfels' was not. Another moment of silence passed.
"Forget it. I don't know why I tried." Footsteps moving towards the door.
"We're going to find them. And if you won't help I have no choice but to assume you don't want that." Hornfels' voice held a pleading note beneath the anger. Hal heard it. They were pretty sure Gabbro didn't. The door to their left clicked and Hal found themself face-to-face with the astronaut. Their eyes met for just a second before Gabbro's gaze dropped to the boards of the porch. Some things never change, I guess...
"You should... talk to them in the morning." Gabbro's voice was rough from vocal strain, but lowered. The dim lantern light glinted off the tears on their face, which they made no effort to hide.
"I'm. Umm..." Hal tried to formulate a coherent response. An excuse? Literally anything? But everything felt upside down. They suddenly felt very much like running to Gossan's cabin and pretending they were a hatchling again.
"Or, maybe better, don't." Amended Gabbro, glancing behind them. Footsteps approached the door. Hornfels could, of course, hear their low conversation.
"You're... different." Was all Hal could manage. Gabbro chuckled, but it was a sort-of sad chuckle. Not really a joyful sound.
"Yeah, buddy, a little. I should really be going though." Hal blinked dumbly at them as they slipped away into the darkness.
"Who - Halite? What are you doing here?" The change in Hornfels' voice from anger to the same sickeningly gentle concern Porphy kept trying to give them made Hal take a step backwards.
"I'm... Just heading home from work... Uhh... progress report... Seed is good? I mean. Not good. But we're working on it."
Hornfels squinted their upper eyes, scrutinizing Hal. "Right. So Tektite told me." well shit. Hornfels' face softened again. "Hal... If you need anything... just radio, alright? Your welcome any time."
It was, really unnerving to be let off the hook so easily. Memories of stern interactions from teenage escapades filled their mind like swarms of insects. I should be thankful. There's nobody left to take the fall. Hah. They numbly walked back to their cabin and sank into a dining room chair. They didn't bother to dim the lamp or shut the door quietly. There was nobody to wake up.
Btw I keep seeing everyone's original nonfandom characters and I want you to know... I see you... I love you... im sorry my brain is broken in the very specific way that I cant appreciate anything that isnt blue people right now
i understand words and phrases. my dialogue is natural and in character. i know where the plot is going. my word count is reasonable. i am not scared of my document
Under a readmore because its long but. Some thoughts about an ACTUALLY positive future!
Was talking with a close friend about thoughts of "what if postloops but they RECOVERED" and well. Here's the thing--one of the skills that they actually DO have (short supply, I know,) is that they are good at flying. With their relationship with Curiosity, they become even BETTER. They become VERY adept at flying! Its not terribly helpful or applicable, because it IS very specialized. They use a left-handed control dashboard, and they are INTIMATELY familiar with Curiosity's specifically--put them into any other old ship and it wouldn't work the same. They wouldn't have the same skills--they'd still be pretty GOOD, but they wouldn't be like. It wouldn't be the same level of excellent flying.
But give them time to recover, give them a way to heal and grow and flourish in that skill, and I think unexpectedly they'd be known as an amazing pilot, specifically. They took off initially hoping to become an astronaut--not even an amazing one, just to be one would be good for them!!! An astronaut that can dig a little deeper into the history and language of the Nomai. But they grow into, in the future, a well-renowned pilot. Likely they'd be the one relied on for any emergency supply runs, or pick-ups. They'd be the one called to go somewhere difficult to maneuver around, or with hazardous elements that affect flying capability. Hell, in the farther future, they might even be the one to help test future OWV astronauts, to make sure they know how to safely land in an emergency situation, or what to look for when avoiding hazards.
Im not saying this is what happens or anything. Its just nice thoughts to think about. My lil thingie growing up and able to perfect a skill they started off not knowing they had a passion for.
I'm never making a turn around again :D this was hell!
I'll make a post at some point linking my artfight account but only after I finish updating all the references for my characters cause the amount of old old art there I can't risk getting out any further into the world /hj
Apparently! Poking in game files leads you to discover such treasures as Cut Dialogue Options. Apparently, there were more things you could complain to Slate about, commented out but still in their xml! Copied them here under the cut
> "My shipâs reactor went critical and I died in the resulting explosion."
Ugh, I get that nightmare, too.
Where you die, I mean. Youâre not exactly a rocket scientist, you know? Me, I could fix a reactor gone critical in my sleep.
If your ship reactorâs cooked, best thing you can do is to put as much distance as you can between you and the ship.
>"I ran out of oxygen and suffocated."
Haha, thatâs a classic!
Donât worry about it too much â I donât know an Outer Wilds Ventures member who hasnât had that dream.
But listen, as long as you keep an eye on your suitâs oxygen levels and remember to refill it inside your ship or wherever you find trees, youâll be fine.
Gossanâs still sore that the jetpack can run on oxygen once itâs out of fuel, but hey, it hasnât killed anyone yet.
>"I got crushed to death on the Hourglass Twins."
Yeesh, thatâs a gnarly dream to have right before a first launch.
Youâll want to stay out of the Hourglass Twinsâ sand stream, for sure. And watch out for rising sand levels whenever youâre inside a cave.
Still, Chert hasnât managed to get buried alive out there. And theyâre tiny.
>"I just self-immolated on that campfire and you didnât even notice."
Feel free to keep your disturbing and violent dreams to yourself. I donât feel like being traumatized today, thanks.
also.. maybe I'm reading it wrong, but is Slate saying in the first one that they have nightmares about the Hatchling dying in a reactor explosion? Because that's... aww.
CWS: Suicidal ideation, discussion & implication of self-harm, medical setting
All my life
I wish I broke mirrors
Instead of promises
Cause all I see
Is a shattered conscience staring right back at me
I wish I had covered all my tracks
Completely
Cause I'm so afraid
Is that the light at the far end of the tunnel
Or just the train? - "Tidal Wave", Owl City
· · â ·â¶Â· â · ·
Gabbro's crater was nearly silent, as always. They liked it that way. The only sound was the faint, buzzing hum of the quantum shard that hovered just within perception. They lay back in their hammock and idly watched the entangled fireflies go through their silent motions. Even thoughts of quantum entanglement couldn't keep them from the magnetic pull their mind had fixated on.
They studied the hilt of their knife. It had been their most prized possession other than their flute since Slate had given it to them as a graduation gift. It was also their greatest source of shame. They wondered now if the knife's crafter felt the same way about them. Built into the hilt was the shape of a dragonfly with its wings folded back. The body of the dragonfly was wrapped in leather, and the wings nestled perfectly in the ridges of their fingers. Unlike Slate's usual work, it was elegant; unscuffed. The shape was rough but each part had been forged with care uncharacteristic of the 'if it ain't broke don't fix it' rocket engineer. It felt more like an apology than a gift, and the irony was almost funny.
They rubbed their face. Every time they imagined biting into their own scales, Hal's worried yellow eyes floated up in their mind. It felt like a Bramble vine had rooted in their lungs. 'I should never have told them'. What a stupid gamble. To include them in THIS. And just their luck, they really were as clueless as they looked. Self loathing was bitter and thick on their tongue, and manic energy crackled and popped beneath their scales.
Maybe just once, they could be stronger. They lifted their flute to their lips and tried to play. The only thing that would come out were the same old notes, a song so written into their bones that their fingers moved to it unbidden. And it was so lonely without its mournful accompaniment. It was all they could do not to throw the thing.
They swore and turned over. They shuffled among the possessions they kept beside for clean strips of cloth. Their movement dislodged the knife they had set carelessly alongside them and sent it tumbling to the forest floor. By the time they reached down to pick it up, it was gone.
They spent half the night searching for it, but the Quantum Grove had its own will. No blood would be shed here today. Still, it was odd, they thought, that their tool never reappeared where it fell, no matter how many times they glanced away and then back again.
· · â ·â¶Â· â · ·
"I want to know the truth either way."
Gabbro stared at the suited figure beside them, hunched and small and miserable. A thousand unwanted memories flooded their mind. Every teasing look, comment, suggestion, the closeness. How much Gabbro had wanted it. How much that had scared them. How much it still does. They forced themself to their feet.
âHaha, yeah. As ifâŠâ
âWhat does that mean?â Halâs voice was a little too sharp. A little too discerning. Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to little buddy. They tried to busy themself with landing but Rhyo's orange-yellow eyes stayed fixed in their mindâs eye, full of bitterness and grief and longing (or maybe something much less honest). These memories are a poison.
Helping Hal with their suit wasn't any easier. It felt wrong. Dishonest somehow, like a betrayal- if not of action, of will. The way Hal leaned a little into every touch, the way their shivering eased when Gabbro's hands passed over their chest and arms. Because despite everything, despite the grief that ripped at their soul, Halâs face was open and honest. They trusted Gabbro, trusted them completely. And it hurt beyond measure. Because they wouldn't. They shouldn't. Who am I keeping this secret for?
They kept up their easy demeanor, or attempted to, in the hope of keeping their broodmate calm. They seemed far away right now. That's probably for the best.
Gossan was there, of course. Gabbro stepped aside to allow Gossan and Hal space. The ache in their chest, the part of themself they hated more than anything. Selfish. Even that wretched part of them couldn't blame Gossan for their unfairly divided attention, not fully. Looking at Hal now, they were shaking like a leaf and their eyes were glazed and far away. It was probably frightening to people who hadn't seen that look before. After the Sun Station, right? That was a bad day. Gabbro had been sure Rhyo was nearing the end, then. But they'd kept going for at least a hundred more. "Do you blame me?â âNo. âS your life. Your decision, time buddy.â â... I'm still sorry.â Sometimes they still expected Rhyo to be there, pressed against their side when they woke up, or to hear the rain pattering relentlessly against their visor. Stars I hate the rain. They felt strangely naked out of their suit. It was an old friend. Old enemy too. Their scales itched and buzzed.
Their feet began to carry them away from the little group at the bottom of the launch pad. They were jolted back to reality by a hand on their arm, none-too-gentle. Porphy made eye contact with them and they saw desperation.
âYou too Gabbro. You both put yourselves in a great deal of danger.â
Gabbro blinked owlishly at them. They could guess from the context that Porphy wanted them examined, or grounded based on their health, or some other such nonsense.
âYeah totally but, I'm alright though. You should focus on Hal.â It was true, or at least as true as anything they ever said (with one major exception). Hal's eyes refocused, a pained hiss leaving them.
âI'm FINE.â Their shaking only intensified, whatever agony wracked them tightening its hold. Gabbro wondered dimly if they had been damaged, somehow, in their jetpack-related stunt. They could admit their own negligence there, too. They had allowed desperation to cloud their mind. Porphy was dragging them down the path to the village. Gabbro wrenched out of their grip, though they couldn't prevent a small sound of pain passing their lips. Their wrist had never been the same since their first stint in the Bramble. Porphy looked incredulous.
âGabbro, you have to come with me. It isn't optional.â
Gabbro allowed their ears to flatten. They were aware, suddenly, that they'd allowed themself to be cornered. Gossan was behind them, and they looked prepared to stay Gabbro by any means necessary.
âAre you going to make me?â Gabbro forced their tone to remain level, keeping the rising panic from registering. Porphy looked conflicted, their eyes flicking to Gossan's face. Apparently, they came to the same conclusion Gabbro had, because their back straightened.
âYes, if I have to. But please⊠I want to help you, Gabbro. Please don't make this difficult.â Their pleas fell in deaf ears. Dread. A fear they'd kept at bay so long it felt like an old friend, a wild thing that moved and breathed with desire and settled on their shoulders like a constant weight. They were sure their mask had slipped, now, that everyone could see through them like water. Hal was looking blankly ahead, still lost elsewhere. Gabbro wished so desperately to join them but the fear strangled their rational thoughts and filled their mind with only the primal desire to run. And run they could. They knew damn well they were faster than anyone here, even in the condition they were. Only their feet wouldn't move, rooted like an animal in the beam of a flashlight.
Porphyâs expression shifted in some way, and they approached, the same way one approached a flighty creature. âGabbro, it's ok. There's nothing to be afraid of. We want you well.â Gabbro couldn't look at their eyes, boring into their soul. Porphy touched them again, resting a hand on their shoulder.
âPorphy, it's better for everyone if you just let me go.â True. This truth would do nobody good, least of all them. Best case scenario: Porphy cared exactly as much as Gabbro did (which is to say, not at all). Worst case scenario: this would be the result of their grounding and quite possibly confinement to a cabin. Expected result: They would be met by the same mixture of pity and disgust they had been previously. The thought made them ill. Verdict: Do not.
âGabbro, we care about you. I care about you. And I'm very concerned for your well-being.â They leaned a little closer. Gabbro leaned away. They retreated, but lowered their voice. âYou haven't been well. I'm sorry. We have to do this for your safety.â
Gabbro felt like an animal in a cage. They tried to catch Hal's eyes, silently begging them for help, but their smaller friend was very far away, and had to be guided down the path by Gossan as they began to move once more. Porphy remained at Gabbro's side, holding their arm much more firmly than before. Something inside them was screaming. Some remnant of their teenage self, lacking understanding, knowing only that nobody could ever find out about this. A rule thrice broken. A mistake each time. They stopped at the foot of the stairs into Gneissâ cabin. The thought of seeing the disgust in their carerâs eyes sprang like a night terror. They could feel themself quivering, though not nearly so much as Hal still was. Hal, who had stopped and fixed them with a blank gaze, a lack of understanding. Their third mistake. They knew. How could they not understand? Why did their gaze lack knowledge, why was it devoid of help?
âCome on, just a little further.â Porphy sounded as though they were coaxing a hatchling. Gabbro bent their head to avoid their eyes.
âI'm not going in there.â Their tone was sharp now. If they entered, there would be no escape. They wished suddenly, desperately, that they had never landed, or done something entirely selfish (and foolish. Remember, death is not permanent, death is not permanent, death is not permanent. There is no rest).
âGabbro-â
âWhat's the hold up? I'm all prepped.â Porphy's exasperation was cut off by Rutile's impatience.
âGabbro refuses to come inside.â Porphy reported. Their grip tightened a little on Gabbro's arm. Gabbro wanted to lash out, bite, scratch, anything. Their mind fled back to the cursory examination they'd been given months ago. They'd only been half-conscious, but very, very lucky. They couldn't count on that luck twice, and if Porphy's determined gaze was anything to go by, no excuse would suffice, either. Their best course of action would have been to cooperate from the start, but their mind railed against the possibility.
âRefusing how?â Rutileâs head poked through the door. âWhy?â
âWho knows, it's Gabbro. They're probably hurt and don't want to admit it.â Gossan. Gabbro tried to shoot their old mentor a glare. Their head wouldn't move.
âWe'll have Slate hold them down if we have to.â Rutile scowled at Gabbro. âBut get moving.â
A shudder ran down Gabbro's spine. Humiliation. They would be treated like a hatchling refusing their bath if they continued to resist. Bile rose to their tongue and the first shuddering sobs of the tide they'd been holding back tried to escape their throat. It took them too long to notice Porphyâs hands rubbing their arm, demanding their attention. They locked eyes with the winemaker briefly before the tension became unbearable and their gaze dropped to the ground.
âI can examine you, if you prefer. I'm not too experienced, but I can do it.â Their voice was soft, both in tone and volume, intended for Gabbro's ears only. Gabbro could do nothing else. They were grateful, at least, that they wouldn't have to watch Gneiss' disappointment themself. They nodded stiffly and allowed Porphy to lead them up the steps and into the leftmost of two inner rooms while Hal was herded into the other. The interior was windowless, and probably once served as a wine cellar before Porphy had designed their own, independent building. There were a few lamps that provided comfortable lighting and a round wooden table with three chairs. Porphy closed the door behind them and settled down at the table.
"What do you want?" Gabbro tried to keep the bite out of their tone, but Porphy's expression told them they hadn't been successful. The winemaker was one cohort their senior, but their hands rested on the table in a manner that betrayed uncertainty.
"I want to make sure you're safe. I'm very worried about you, Gabbro. And I'd never forgive myself if... something happened."
"Why? I was examined two months ago and it was fine."
âBecause Hal told me you're hurting yourself.â
Gabbro's heart froze in their chest. Their emotions must have been showing on their face, because Porphy continued quickly.
âGabbro, it's alright. You're not the first Hearthian to go through this. You're not even the first I've treated.â Gabbro sank into the opposite chair. They couldn't look at Porphy, couldn't stand to imagine what the winemaker must think of them now.
"I don't understand..." Gabbro's voice was barely a hiss when they finally made it work. "Who..?"
"I can't tell you that." Gabbro felt Porphy's hands gently close over theirs. They realized they'd been worrying at the scales on their arm above the glove, digging the nails in deep enough to cause pain. "I know you're afraid. I'm here. We're going to get through this. You're going to get through this."
Gabbro didn't answer them. Bitterness and guilt warred for control of their mind, which swam like the choppy saline sea of Giant's Deep. Those waters would drench them for the rest of their life.
"I want to see." Porphy's voice was still low and soft.
"Why?" Gabbro stared at the backs of their own hands with disgust. It could only make them hate me more.
"I need to know that you're safe."
"Haha... at least take me out for a drink first." Porphy did not dignify their 'joke' with a response. Gabbro moved one hand to the opposing glove and hesitated. "I. Don't want to."
"I know." Porphy released their hands and sat back in their chair.
"I don't want you to... look at me like that." Green eyes. Confusion. Betrayal."Why would you do that?" "I... don't know." "Then stop?"... Their first mistake.
"I won't look at you any differently." Porphy's face was solemn, gaze earnest. Their promises could mean nothing, but... well, what else is there to do?
The scales under their left glove were a very soft, whitish teal, bleached from neglect. Jagged, almost black stripes were interrupted by silvered scars that crisscrossed in random, frenetic waves. Too numerous to remember every one. Some (the very oldest) older than their membership in the Ventures. The right was... worse. Some barely-healed, purple at the edges. One still scabbed over. They watched Porphy's face. Their heart thundered in their eardrums. Their old friend's hands ran gently down the right arm, coming away with a fine coating of silvery scales, like brushing against a butterfly's wing. Gabbro swallowed.
"It's umm. I haven't really been able to use my right hand for a few months, so." So the right arm gets the most 'attention'. Porphy's primary eyes snapped up to their face.
"You haven't been able to use it at all?"
"I mean. For some things. Flying, carrying shit." They couldn't maintain eye contact. Porphy's gaze drilled into them. "But not... holding a knife or anything. It just won't work right." Even removing parts of Hal's suit had been a struggle, though they'd never said as much to their friend. A shard of guilt already lived in their chest from the worry they'd seen in Hal's gaze since two days prior. Porphy's lips pressed together. They looked as though they were having difficulty maintaining their composure, now.
"How long?" Gabbro didn't answer. "Fuck, 'a few months'? The Bramble? Why wouldn't you-"
"Porphy, I couldn't just-!" Gabbro shook their head, as though that would rattle loose the dark waters that lived therein. "You don't get it. You can't possibly understand." Rhyo in their arms. Rhyo against their side. Rhyo pleading with them to do anything to help, even just distract them and all Gabbro done was sit there. Watch their friend deteriorate and become a shell of themself. And they gave a foolish promise and they failed to keep it again and again and again. I'm useless. They'd deserved every death, every broken bone and nerve-searing pain. The one thing they were supposed to protect. And Hal was in the other room, themself barely a shell, all thanks to them. They'd never deserved to feel- the warmth in their chest was duplicity, their nature a poison. Nothing but an obstacle.
Their shoulders were shaking with suppressed sobs. Porphy came around the table and knelt beside them, wrapping arms tightly around their shoulders. The warmth of their arms made Gabbro want to thrash and fight against themself. The soft part of them they guarded so jealously sobbed for the relief the embrace provided while their mind railed against its deceit.
A wetness on their shoulder stilled their writhing thoughts. Porphy felt the shift in their posture and turned their face up to meet their eyes. Tears quivered on the scales of their face. Everything I do hurts someone.
"I'm sorry, Gabbro." Porphy's voice was low.
Gabbro shook their head. "I wish you never..." Their voice caught. "You would be better off without me." Porphy's arm tightened around Gabbro's chest wordlessly. "Nobody but Hal'd even miss me, and that's only because-" I lied to them. They took a deep, shaky breath. "I should never have come back from Giant's Deep." And for the life of them, they didn't know why they had. It had been numbing, the time ticking by, and then the end had just... never come. They should have known then to orchestrate it themself. Only...
Rhyolite settled next to their hammock. The waves pounded and the wind screeched but their voice was clear through the radio that rested against Gabbro's ear.
"It's time." Their friend wouldn't look at them. Their visor was focused out to sea, out to the horizon. Somewhere distant. "Next loop."
Gabbro tried to hide their relief, didn't allow themself an audible exhale. "If you're sure, buddy."
When Rhyolite turned their visor towards them, Gabbro couldn't look at their expression too long. There was something ragged about it. Tired. They knew the feeling.
"No. But there's nothing left. I..." Rhyo's eyes unfocused again, going somewhere far away in their own mind. Gabbro knew where. A place they could never revisit. "I can't keep doing this to them."
Gabbro nodded, but didn't otherwise respond. They focused their eyes on the sea. Tried to drink it in. Maybe they should try to enjoy the last hours they had to live. But they'd lived them so many times... it might be better to sleep through them.
"Gabbro I... need to ask you something." There was a tension under the tiredness of their time buddy's tone. Gabbro turned their secondary eyes back to them, prompting them to continue. "I've been thinking. The Eye. It's... we don't know what will happen when I get there..."
Rhyo paused for a long moment, long enough that Gabbro's eyes wandered back to the twisters over the waves.
"I know it's naive but. If I find a way to stop it. If I can't come back. I need..." Rhyo's voice caught. "I need someone to tell Hal I'm sorry. And that I-" Gabbro felt them lean against the side of the hammock, prompting their gaze to return to them. Rhyo's mouth was turned down in a grimace. "I'm just sorry." Rhyo's visor turned away, unable to make eye contact. Their shoulders slumped.
"I know this isn't fair to ask of you, I know, after everything I've-" They stopped again. They pressed their visor into Gabbro's shoulder.
"And if you come back..?" Gabbro couldn't stop themself from asking. 'How fucking stupid do you have to be? You know the answer.' Gabbro had always been a last resort. They'd never be anyone's first choice. Besides. Nobody was coming back. It was over. Finally, over.
"I'll keep my promise." Rhyo whispered. They reached their arm across Gabbro's body to take the hand that rested idly on their flute. Their fingers intertwined. This was a sickness. A cruelty. "And... I'll have even more things to apologize to Hal for."
Porphy held them for a long time. Too long. Held them until their sobs fell away into shaky breaths, into silence. A sound at the door, someone's tentative tapping. Porphy shifted their body. Gabbro realized they were shielding them from view, should someone open the door.
"Yes, who is it?"
"Gossan. Can I come in? Gneiss sent me."
Porphy looked at Gabbro questioningly. Gabbro chuckled in defeat. "Yeah, sure. Why not." They may as well have a reason to think less of me. Porphy gently disentangled themself and stepped to the door. Gossan stepped into the room and stared at Gabbro. Gabbro tucked their arms against their chest, suddenly self-conscious and regretful that their gloves were across the table.
"...Gabbro?" Gossan's eyes were wide. They looked as though they'd seen a ghost. Or perhaps, seen Gabbro for the first time as they were, and not as they had never been.
"Hey, Goss." Gabbro let their eyes drop to the floor. "If you came to lecture me I really. Really don't need to hear it."
"And I won't have it, in fact." Porphy agreed. They crossed the room and opened an as-yet-unseen set of drawers nestled against one wall.
"You... what's wrong with them?" Gossan crossed the room to Gabbro's side. Their voice was shaking. Hah. I must look AWFUL. Porphy glanced up from their rummaging.
"Not much, physically." They returned to the table with a clean cloth and a bowl. "A broken wrist and some abrasions that I'm going to bandage to be extra-certain." Gossan had zeroed in on Gabbro's arms. They studied them with slow-dawning comprehension.
"Your scars-" Gabbro shot a glance at Porphy, who had moved to the back of the room where some herbs were drying. "They- They're like Fe-"
"Don't." Porphy said sharply. "Don't share information they wouldn't want you to."
'You're not even the first I've treated.' That's what Porphy had said.
"But... why?" Gossan looked Gabbro up and down. They seemed completely at a loss.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Besides. That wasn't really the start. Only the catalyst. Their old flight coach looked into Gabbro's face. Their hand reached up, fingers finding the grooves between Gabbro's cheekbones.
"You've lost weight." They said, softly. Gabbro nodded wryly. Gossan's thumb moved along their jawline, scrubbing through the tracts tears had made. Their eyes followed the scales that flaked off like snow. "Hal was right."
Gabbro closed their eyes. They were regretting opening up to Hal for an entirely different reason, now. Gossan rested their forehead on Gabbro's shoulder.
"Hatchling... I failed you... I'm so sorry." Their voice was shaky, almost fragile. Gabbro shook their head. The turbulence inside them wouldn't allow this.
"I- Goss, I failed you- you- hah- didn't mean for me to be broken."
Gossan looked up into their eyes again. "No, hatchling, don't ever talk like that." Their hands pressed on either side of Gabbro's face. Their fingers rested beneath their ears, pushing them out of their premature perpetual droop. "You're a capable astronaut and I'm proud of you... I... Shit... I should have noticed..."
Gabbro's mouth twisted into something almost like a smile. "You're proud of me? After this?" They motioned to themself. "What happened to me being 'thoughtless'?"
Gossan pulled their hands away with a frown. "Bringing Hal to space was... very reckless, yes. But so was not grounding you after Dark Bramble- the first time." Gossan cleared their throat, staring at their hands (now covered in greenish scales). "I knew you weren't fit to fly but I hoped..." Their eyes squeezed shut. "I hoped if anyone could find them, it would be you."
"I'm sorry." I was never going to find them. I couldn't even pick up the pieces of my own mind.
"It wasn't fair to expect of you, hatchling." Gossan looked over to Porphy. "What can I do to help?"
Gossan filled the bowl with water while Porphy stole away to get ingredients for 'a salve or two'. Gossan moved one of the chairs so they were seated beside Gabbro. They used the clean cloth and water to clean dust and debris from the wound on their arm.
"I know how to do that."
"Just let your old carer help you, for once." It was strange, now, to have Gossan bent over their arm scrutinizing for every spec like their life depended on it. It felt warm in their chest. They weren't sure if they liked that, yet.
"You're grounding me now?"
Gossan gave them a tired smile. "Yes. I'd say I'm sorry, but... I should have a long time ago."
Gabbro nodded. Everything felt so distant. There was nothing in space that could help them anyway. "It's just... Hal. They've got the bug."
Gossan's head tilted. "Hal? You're sure?"
"Yes. You should have seen them- their eyes when they scrambled up to the launch pad." Gabbro couldn't help but smile at the memory. Their eyes had sparkled like the stars themselves, washed in hues of golden sunlight. "Stars know why. But I'm sure they'll sneak away again, with or without me."
Gossan's lips pressed together in contemplation. "I don't understand... why now? Rhyolite begged them to join for years but without the proper training..."
"If they're star-bent on going to space, why not give them the training?" Porphy was leaning against the door frame, a tub and a bowl of some solution in their hands. Gossan scowled at them.
"How long do you have? It's an eight year program. Not something you start on a whim."
"Well, yeah." Porphy agreed, setting down their load and fetching another item from the cabinet. A stiff brush made of reed fibers. "But that's because there's a lot of stuff to learn how to do science. Just start them on the 'how not to die in space' part."
Gossan rubbed their face. "Hornfels'll love that."
Gabbro wandered through their ruined mind as the older Hearthians discussed Hal's fate while tending to them. They felt distant, suddenly, like an outside observer to the tableau. They hissed in displeasure when Porphy began using the reed fiber brush to remove the dead and dying scales from their body, but even the painful tingling of their scales felt untethered, as though they were a being completely separated from their body. Perhaps they should have felt humiliated, or ashamed that they needed to be groomed and soothed like a hatchling. The dark waters of their mind felt still, dangerous. An unknown depth just as ready to swallow as buoy them. And though they were out of tears their body still shuddered in a fruitless attempt to expel whatever emotion lurked beneath the surface.
"Shh, just rest, hatchling. We'll take care of you."
· · â ·â¶Â· â · ·
They came to consciousness with the sharp realization that they weren't in their hammock. No soothing motion or the subtle hum of the quantum shard, and no relentless rain or screaming wind either.
They groaned when their conversation (such as it was) with Gossan and Porphy bobbed to the surface of their mind. They would have much to make up for, many apologies to make, and a lot of work to re-impose their own carefully maintained persona. They pushed themself into a sitting position. They were still in Gneiss' cabin, but someone had carried them to the main room and wrapped them in a quilt. A likely suspect sat nearby, having dozed off with carving knives in-hand. The drum of some half-shaped instrument sat in Hal's lap, no doubt one of Gneiss' prototypes. Uneaten food sat on the table beside them. Gabbro ignored the biting nausea that begged for sustenance. They forced themself to their feet (more shakily than they would have liked) and took two steps towards the cabin door.
"Mmgh... Gabbro?"
Shit.
"Hey, buddy." Gabbro tried to give Hal a relaxed smile, but the expression on their friend's face made them falter. Hal set down their project and crossed the room to stand in front of Gabbro. For a moment, Gabbro prepared themself for an embrace, but Hal stopped short and studied them up and down.
"You're still shaking, like, a lot. Sit down?" It wasn't really a question as much as an inevitability. Gabbro sank to the floor. Their head was spinning. Hal pulled the chair across for them to lean against.
"Stay right here, I'm getting you food and water."
Gabbro didn't have much choice but to do as commanded. What were they going to do, crawl to their safe haven? Maybe their buddy would give them a favor if they played their cards right. It didn't take long for Hal to return with a bowl and a mug. Gabbro stared at their hands. Their left arm had been left uncovered, but their right was bandaged tightly almost to the elbow. Whatever mixture of malnourishment and stress had led their scales to slough off in the first place had left the tender skin and scales beneath light, vulnerable, and patchy. Still, it felt freeing to have airflow on their skin rather than a thick, itchy layer of scales that buzzed at the back of their mind like a constant annoyance. There was a thin, glossy sheen, too, that indicated someone had spread oil on them - probably to promote scale regrowth. They let out a shaky breath.
"How are you feeling?" Hal was sitting on the floor across from them, cross-legged. Gabbro thought about lying. "I'm fine, little buddy, you just worry about yourself." But what would be the point in so obvious a farce?
"Like shit." They grimaced, poking at the bowl in front of them with their foot. "I'm not eating that."
"Why not?" Hal frowned. "Do you not like it? I can make you something different if you prefer-"
"No, 's not like that." Gabbro shook their head. "I just... can't." The very idea of eating right now made them choke back bile.
"Oh. I see." Hal frowned. They looked crestfallen. Gabbro's gut twisted. "When was the last time you ate, anyway?"
Gabbro scanned through the previous days in their mind, searching for anything to appease their shorter friend. "Uhh, you fed me marshmallows on the way back from Solanum, right? That's something."
"That's it?" Hal looked horrified. "Gabbro- That was like six marshmallows, and it's been days!"
Gabbro's ear twitched in annoyance. "Yeah, that doesn't make me more able to stomach food now, Hal." Their concern was grating. Hal looked sufficiently chastised.
"You're right I'm... sorry." The linguist-astronaut shuffled up to Gabbro's side, taking a now-familiar position nestled under their arm. It felt warm. It ached.
"I'm just worried about you. Porphy said you're really malnourished, way worse than I thought and... I feel like it's my fault for not saying something sooner." Hal's body shook a little as they sighed. "I mean, I noticed something was off when we ran into each other outside of Hornfels' but I just... I was so wrapped up in everything and I'm just... sorry."
Gabbro swallowed. "You're... different." Hal had looked so frightened and uncertain. Their eyes dark with grief. How dare they apologize to ME? It was (almost) funny. Hal would hate them if only they knew. And maybe they should know. But Gabbro had decided a long time ago that that information could only hurt them. And Hal didn't deserve any part of this agony.
"Eh, you're not my carer." Gabbro leaned their head back against the chair and stared at the wooden beams of the ceiling. "I'm supposed to be able to take care of myself."
"So am I." Hal's voice was dry. "It's taken half the village just to keep me alive since Rhy... left."
Rhy left. The words stung in a way Gabbro couldn't describe. It should have been me. You deserved to have them back.
"Yeah, but you have more of a reason to- I mean, shit, you were cabin mates."
"We weren't partners. Not... not really." Hal sniffed. Gabbro watched them struggle for words, chewing over the information. I think that might've been news to Rhyolite. But oh well.
"Esker thinks so- thinks we were..." A flush was rising to Hal's face. "Stars- I don't know. I know it doesn't matter now. I just wish I told them..." Hal's hands moved as if they could communicate the meaning inside their heart to Gabbro through gestures.
"They knew, Hal. They loved you." It felt like acid. They didn't know whether it was a lie or not but it felt like one. Felt like self-betrayal. Well, that at least was something they were used to. Hal went still beside them for a moment.
"Thank you." Hal shifted away to better see Gabbro's face. A troubled look shadowed their buttercup eyes. "I wish I'd been there for them... like you were." They grimaced and looked away. "You keep saying I have more of a reason to, but with how much you've changed I- feel like I don't even know who they were."
The thorns in their friend's eyes were enough to cut their own still-raw wounds. They wanted to lie, beg Hal to just remember who Rhyolite had been. Because the thing they'd had to become by the end hadn't been themself.
"I don't know how to be a person anymore." The words tumbled out around all the things Gabbro held back, things they could never say- words too sharp. Truths too bright.
"I don't either." Hal pulled them in closer. The more their buddy held them, the easier it felt. The less the thorns beneath their scales prickled and sparked. "Can we figure it out together?"
