@matty-chapman:
This always happened.
Well–not this precisely. Matty had never sat down before doing homework and said they’d just close their eyes for a few minutes and then opened them in a whole new room, but a few minutes was never really a few minutes, was it? This was what Matty got, really, for procrastinating, because they knew better, and they’d closed their eyes anyway, and now the date on their phone said it was 2051 and a few minutes had apparently been a few years.
The room they’d opened their eyes in was not their room, and yet was unmistakably, well… their room. With the walls painted in a rainbow of colors and the bed covered in fluffy, brightly colored blankets, there was no one else it could belong to, and there was a picture on the nightstand, too, from Pride several years ago–Matty’s first, with Uncle Matt behind them, his face painted proudly. This was Matty’s room, and yet not the room they’d shut their eyes in–and that, it seemed, was not the only surprise.
By the time Matty made it to Uncle Matt’s front door–their door, last they’d checked–their face was very warm and they were a little breathless. Breathless and barefoot, and–and they didn’t have keys, which was how they ended up knocking frantically.
Matty breathed a sigh of relief when Uncle Matt opened the door, took in a little breath when he held up his hand. A little beam of light followed Matty’s focus, glinted off the ring almost comically, like a bad effect added to a film. “There’s a boy in my apartment,” Matty blurted, which was not an answer to Matt’s question, but wasn’t it though? “I mean–not here. Which is where I remember living. But in my apartment. And I sort of know him but only just and he’s really cute but it’s still confusing and I think he lives there, too. Is your hair more gray? Why don’t I live here anymore? Can I have a hug?”
In the chaos of his morning, it was immensely steadying to see his nibling on the other side of the door. Sure, she was as worked up as he was and definitely as confused, but they had each other, right? Each other and this boy in her apartment, which he would ask questions about later. “Can you have a hug? Matty, sweetness, you can have as many hugs as you like.” He said, ushering her into his apartment so that they could talk in peace. Answers would come second, but the hug had to come first, in his opinion. A breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding eased out of him as he pulled Matty close, and they stood there in a silence for a long moment, as if trying to get their bearings in a strange new world. He drew back gradually, taking a moment to press a kiss to her forehead and smooth back her hair before ending the hug entirely. According to his phone he had a half day at work, of all things, so he had time. He’d have made some anyway, given Matty’s state of mind and his own. With that in mind, he gestured for her to follow him to the sofa and took a seat, patting the seat beside to indicate she should follow him. “I think I married Jenny’s mom, so it’s a weird as hell kinda morning, kiddo. And oh, there’s a text from her.’
A text that he didn’t really understand, but if Ellie said they were in fact five years in the future then most likely they actually were. Matt sent back a ‘why?’ but the response wasn’t forthcoming. Sighing, he looked up at Matty again and gave her a half hug. “The Research and Development nerds were working on something that Ellie tried to explain to me, but I didn’t think it’d go this far. So I guess your answer to a lot of those questions is that we’re five years out in the future.” Matt said, trying to keep his tone calmer than he felt in this moment. If he could tamp down on his own emotions enough, he could project a little calm too, ease Matty’s burden. A tall order, but he had to try. “So yeah, my hair’s more grey and someone talked me into a beard. I’m assuming you not living here has something to do with the cute boy, bubele.”
