in the poly au verse, what does terrence think of bb? does he know the full story or is he also introduced to bb as “bobby’s estranged brother”. i imagine bobby wanting to tell terrence everything bc bobby never lies to terrence but its also a lot to digest, so can also imagine bobby diluting it to protect him.
either way, what’s his opinion on bb in general and the situation (if he knows everything)? and what about bb’s opinion of terrence?
so initially, yes, the cover story. "estranged twin brother." bb has been given government documentation. he's got an ID. he's got a name on a card. he's legally, on paper, bobby franklin's brother who's been "away" and is now "back." the details are deliberately vague because well.... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
and terrence is like. okay. sure. 👀 the twin brother. the twin brother nobody has EVER mentioned. in over fifteen years of friendship. not once. not at sleepovers or thanksgiving or drunk/high at 2 AM when people spill their family secrets. bobby franklin, who terrence has known since age seven, has shared beds and car rides and every shitty life event with, just... forgot to mention he had a twin brother???
"you never thought to bring this up?" terrence asks, standing in bobby's apartment, staring at bb who's standing in the kitchen wearing bobby's face and holding a coffee mug with both hands like he's never encountered ceramic before.
"it's complicated," bobby says tightly.
"it's a whole brother. a whole human person that looks exactly like you. how is that complicated?"
bobby winces. "terry—"
"were you guys separated at birth or somethin'? do I need to sit down for this?"
"just—he's been away. and now he's back. and he's... adjusting."
bb chooses this moment to sniff the coffee, recoil violently, and set the mug down on the counter like it might bite him if he's not careful enough. he then immediately picks up a dish sponge, examines it with intense focus, squeezes it, watches the water come out, and squeezes it again with genuine fascination.
bobby pinches the bridge of his nose. "he's... special."
"I can see that," terrence says slowly.
but terrence is smart. terrence has always been an observant person despite performing the role of the easygoing one. and terrence knows, immediately, viscerally, on a level he can't articulate, that a lot about this situation doesn't add up.
the math is all wrong. the story has holes the size of texas. bb is strange in a way that "estranged brother" doesn't cover. more like strange in a way that "human being who grew up on earth" doesn't cover. the way bb stands too still. the way his reactions arrive a half-second late, like he's translating from a foreign operating system where simplest, mundane things are foreign to him. the way he tilts his head at an angle that looks right on a bird and wrong on a person. the way he watched a ceiling fan for forty-five unbroken minutes the first time terrence came over and when terrence carefully asked "you good, bro?" bb said "it goes around" with quiet awe.
that's the thing that overrides everything else in his mind. the thing that makes terrence swallow his questions and shelve his suspicions and extend a grace period of indefinite length to the weird twin who showed up out of nowhere.
because terrence spent months watching bobby disintegrate. spent months thinking you're dead in a ditch, then his memory went to shit and he spent months writing lists in a notebook fighting an erasure he couldn't name. and then you came back. and bobby came back. the real bobby, the bobby who laughs and picks up the camera and makes terrible coffee.
and if the price of getting you both back is accepting that bobby's "brother" is a deeply strange man who doesn't understand sponges and stares at ceiling fans and occasionally forgets to blink for ninety seconds at a stretch, then fine. terrence will pay that price. terrence will pay it gladly. terrence doesn't need the truth. he just needs his people. and his people are home and the weird guy comes with the package and terrence can live with weird.
so he goes along with it. weeks pass, and bb is a freak. there's no kinder way to say it. 😭 bb is a walking collection of social miscalibrations that bobby manages with exhausted patience like he's wrangling a golden retriever that's never been indoors.
bb tries to pay for something at a store by handing the cashier a smooth rock. bb stands in the rain for twenty minutes because "water comes from UP THERE." bb eats a lemon wedge at a restaurant, rind and all, and says "this is nice" and bobby puts his face in his hands and terrence laughs so hard he cries and bb looks at terrence laughing (not mocking, but genuine amusement) and does the head tilt.
because terrence is easy.
that's his superpower. he flows around obstacles instead of crashing into them. he doesn't correct bb. doesn't flinch at the strangeness. doesn't treat bb like a problem to be managed the way bobby sometimes does (out of love, out of exhaustion, but still).
terrence just... rolls with it. bb says something deeply bizarre and terrence says "huh, wild" and moves on. bb doesn't understand a social cue and terrence just fills the gap without drawing attention to it. bb stands too close and terrence shifts to accommodate without comment. the patience isn't performed. it's just how terrence operates. low friction. high warmth. the gentle steadiness that makes frightened things feel more at ease.
bb notices the ease. notices that his body is less tense when terrence is in the room. that terrence doesn't produce the anxiety spike that most humans do. the constant low-grade stress of performing human correctly, of being watched and assessed and found wanting.
terrence doesn't assess. terrence just accepts. and for an entity that has spent its entire existence outside the backrooms being subtly wrong in every social context, the experience of being accepted without assessment outside of you and bobby is so novel it borders on intoxicating.
after a single afternoon of terrence teaching bb how to use a TV remote (patiently, without condescension, letting bb press every button and ask seventeen questions about signal transmission), bb turns to you in the kitchen and says, with the solemn gravity:
"terrence is my friend."
you fight back a smile. "oh yeah?"
"yes. I have a friend and his name is terrence."
he says it the way a kid says it when they come home from the first day of school and announces their new best friend with this unguarded pride. and your heart clenches because this is an apex predator who is older than humanity and he's BEAMING because the lacrosse boy with the easy laugh showed him how the volume buttons work.
bobby, overhearing from the couch: "you've known him for like three hours."
"he's my friend."
"you can't just claim people after three hours—"
bb sniffs. "I claimed her after four minutes."
bobby opens his mouth. closes it. opens it. turns toward you. you shrug. bobby pinches the bridge of his nose again.
and then the night everything changes.
because terrence has always had an open door policy with your apartment. that's always been the deal. terrence shows up unannounced, lets himself in, and raids the fridge. this is a foundational law of your social structure that predates the backrooms and the existence of bb in the living world.
the problem is that nobody remembered to update the foundational law to account for the fact that bobby and bb sometimes, occasionally, y'know, make out in the kitchen now.
terrence lets himself in on a monday evening. keys in the door, "yo, it's me," rounding the corner into the kitchen expecting to find you or bobby or both and instead finding bobby pressed against the refrigerator with his hands in bb's hair and bb's mouth on bobby's mouth, and the two of them devouring each other, flushed from the complicated feelings still swimming between them.
and terrence stops dead in his tracks.
bobby and bb separate at the speed of light. bb's expression goes carefully blank. the reset to neutral, the emergency shutdown of emotional display that he defaults to when caught off-guard. bobby's expression is the expression of a man watching his entire cover story collapse in real time like a house of cards in a hurricane.
"okay," terrence says slowly, standing in the kitchen doorway, keys in hand. "so. that's... not a brother thing."
"terry—"
"that is definitively, conclusively, absolutely not a brotherly thing."
bobby stumbles forward. "I can explain—"
"you were making out with your twin brother who i'm becoming increasingly sure is not actually your twin brother against the fridge where I keep my leftovers."
silence. bb looks at bobby. bobby looks at you. you've appeared in the hallway, drawn by the sound of terrence's voice and bobby's panic, and the look bobby gives you is asking permission to try the truth.
you nod carefully.
it's a long night.
the three of you on the couch. bb on the floor because bb prefers the floor, sitting cross-legged at your feet with his back against your shins. bobby doing the talking because bobby owes terrence the truth and he knows it and he's never lied to terrence and the weight of the months of lying is coming off him in waves of relief and guilt.
the backrooms. entity 0. the face. the nest. the seven. all of it. terrence sits on the couch with a beer he stopped drinking twenty minutes ago and his face cycling through different expressions.
and terrence listens. asks questions. doesn't flinch. when bobby finishes, when the silence is thick enough to taste, terrence looks at bb on the floor.
"so you're not his brother."
"no."
"you're an ancient entity that wears his face."
"yes."
"and you and her are—"
"yes."
"and you and HIM are—"
"... yes."
terrence takes a long gulp of the beer he stopped drinking twenty minutes ago. sets it down. stares at the ceiling. looks back at bobby, then at you. finally at bb.
"cool," he says after a beat. "same rules apply? I can still come over whenever?"
bobby laughs but it sounds raspy in his throat, caught. you press your face into your hands, smothering your relieved smile.
"you're still my friend terrence," bb says seriously from the floor. "this doesn't change that."
"buddy," terrence says dryly, "at this point you're the most honest person in this apartment."
he's not wrong.
terrence keeps the secret. of course he does. terrence has been keeping secrets for the people he loves since he was seven years old and this is just the biggest one. and the friendship that grows between him and bb (slowly, built on terrence's ease and bb's earnest hunger for connection) becomes a warm spot.
terrence teaches bb about music. bb teaches terrence about frequencies. terrence takes bb to his first concert and bb stands in the crowd with his eyes closed and his face tilted up and feels the bass in his chest and says "oh" with quiet wonder that makes terrence look at him sideways and think, for the first time, yeah. whatever he is. he's decent.
and bb, every single time he introduces terrence to a concept or a situation or a person, says it the same way. with the same unguarded pride. the same first-day-of-school wonder.
During Red's youth, he was fond of lots of cute things that other young boys like him would consider "sissy activities" leading to him being friendless during those days.
Red felt really lonely and got tired of being all alone but he didn't wana give up his love for flowers, ponies, and sunshine just to fit in with some jerky kids. He wanted a pet. A cat in paticular.
One lucky day, he was playing outside by himself where he found an adorable fluffy white cat. He showed it to his parents and asked if he could keep it. But they refused and sent the cat back outside.
Red went to his room wallowing in disappointment in dispair. Red does'nt like getting nastily angry, but this is one of the few times he goes on a frusterated tearful rant.
"It's not fair I hate the rules in this house! And I hate those mean people! now I'll never have any friends"
"Tell me about it! How are you supposed to have company at this time at day?"
That gruff voice made Red flinch and quickly stop crying.
Confused he turns to his left and sees a very scary looking cat. (At least that's what he thinks it is) It had yellowed eyes, red fur, marroon stripes that almost looked like a plaid pattern, and a bristly tail & whiskers.
Red blinked to do a double take and made a huge grin right before giving a big hug to his first imaginary friend,
