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4 years ago

Lights Part 3

There’s a pleasant warmth curled around you and the heaviness of the comforter that’s got you feeling like a very loved burrito makes it hard to open your eyes. You’re struggling to not keep blinking continuously but its a difficult task, you’re warm, you’re comfortable, and you’ve got no where to be. The arm wrapped around your stomach drags you closer as your eyes sag closed-

You’re wide awake in an instant. Heart hammering and lungs seizing as you go absolutely rigid. You don’t invite people into your house anymore, especially not into your bed, those are your sacred little spaces that you crawl into to feel secure. But you can feel the person- sleep heavy- curled along your back in an awkward spooning position with an arm and leg thrown over you. Warm breath tickling the back of your neck that suddenly feels too exposed. You’re too exposed and there is someone in your bed and you can’t breathe and-

The leg that was thrown over you is removed and there are hands dragging you upright and a vaguely familiar voice murmuring something close enough to your face you can feel the puffs of air each word makes. It’s not until hands are cupping your jaw and the words level out into a constant soothing hush of consolation that you finally realize who’s kneeling over your lap and looking lost and upset. Polypa’s eyes are wide with worry as her voice seizes up and relaxes against the chattering cicada noise that wants to come out. She settles for a stream of constant shushing noises that buzz just a bit the closer to panic she comes. She’s never seen you like this. Never seen or realized exactly how messed up Alternia had left you. It claws at her mind and whispers the horrible thought of failing as a moirail that she never noticed. That she never pried even when you seemed just fine. She should have. She should know exactly what’s keeping you up at night and what sends you into a blind panic. Polypa should have known where you lived too. As a moirail these were basic things that helped build the foundation of a stable diamond. The fact she didn’t have the faintest clue about any of it was enough for olive tinted tears to well up in the corners of her eyes. After everything you had simply fallen off the map, complete radio silence, Polypa had looked everywhere for you. The mall was the last place she ever thought to bump into you and the elation she had felt had been short lived at the absolutely shattered look in your eyes. The way you had simply crumbled at the slightest gentle touch had felt like a sucker punch to the gut. 

“It’s alright, it’s going to be alright, just breathe for me.” You took in a stuttering breath following along to the gentle breathing that Polypa was trying to coach you into. You were safe, you were home, you were in bed, and Polypa had spent the night after the most intense and dissociative feelings jam of your life. It was fine. Slowly you began to calm down. The two of you would need to have that talk you’d been dreading. The one where you had to tell her everything and wait for her to decide whether she was going to sign up for dealing with your bullshit or throw herself out the window to get as far away from your flaming dumpster fire as she could. For a moment you debated lying out your ass and saying you’ve just been having a horrible week and leaving it at that. The thought was abandoned as quickly as it formed. Polypa’s eyes were earnest and bordering desperate. She wanted- and by extension needed- to hear the truth. No matter how much it’d feel like pulling teeth. 

“We need to talk.” You finally sighed out, shoulders slumping as the fight left you. She tensed and you realized how bad that probably sounded. “It- Its- Hey, Polypa, its not... Well okay its bad but- just let me explain?” Preferably in the kitchen where you could sit at the table and talk this out like rational adults. Even if you felt like a frightened preteen about to spill their guts for the first time. It took a few more reassurances that you were more or less okay and that you weren’t about to kick her out to get her to let you up. From there you grabbed some drinks from your fridge and took a seat at the little kitchen table you had set up. Polypa drummed her claws along the can of soda you’d handed her- a nervous tick you’d adopted from her long ago. You weren’t sure where to even start with this. A confession of how pale you still were for her? Word vomit about the time just before landing on Alternia? Or straight to the chase? Running a hand through your hair as your foot bounced nervously you took a deep breath. 

“When...” You had to clear your throat past the lump in it, “When I first landed on Alternia... I-,” A shuddering breath left you and you had to close your eyes for a moment to keep from bursting into tears. To keep from becoming an incoherent babbling mess. It took Polypa’s hand covering one of your own to get back what little composure you had. 

“You don’t have to tell me everything now.” She offered in the silence as you tried to collect your words again. Tempted as you were to take her up on that you knew she deserved to know. 

“When I first landed on Alternia there was something wrong with me. I knew something was wrong but for the life of me couldn’t figure out what it might be. So I pushed it aside for the thrill of making friends. Of meeting new people. It wasn’t until I left that I finally realized what happened. What was wrong...” She was staring at you with such rapt attention you felt like a bug pinned to a cork board. “I was... It- I- shit... Everything that happened on Alternia felt fake, like I was some chess piece on a board waiting for someone to make a move. A pawn. And I... I was. I was a pawn. The man... The-,” Your fists clenched at the memory, “Doc fucking Scratch.” You barked out venomously teeth grinding with the force of it. It was the first time you’d allowed yourself to say his name. To speak it into existence. For once you weren’t afraid it’d bring him down upon you like a swarm of locusts. No, for once you wanted to wrap your hands around that puppet’s felt fucking neck and squeeze. Sucking in a deep breath you continued on. “He fucked with my mind Polypa. I was a backseat passenger to a shit show I had no control over. Everything I ever did was mapped out and if I made a wrong choice? I wound up in a groundhog style remake of that moment until I made the correct decision. I died Polypa, I remember every death- every bad ending- every time I had to stare down at one of my friends and know that I killed them! And then I’d blink and I’d be back where I started staring down at the choices I was allowed to make and praying I’d get it right this time. He took all my words and twisted them to fit his narrative. I was there to make the right friends and then be tossed aside when there was no use for me. And when he plucked me out of the narrative again and gave me back my at least some of my mind I fucking spiraled. I went about making more friends because I couldn’t do anything else. Because that fucker took my memories from me so that I would continue in a loop until it killed me. And when I finally snapped out of it I tore everything to shreds to get to him. I destroyed entire timelines just so I could burn everything that pompous bastard held dear to the ground. And I succeeded. At least partially... The next time I woke up I was sleeping in a motel room in some place I’d never even heard of. I found a job and I scraped up enough to get a decent place, I knew that everyone was still out there. I did. I just couldn’t bring myself to play the game again. Even if it was all in my head.” Tears were dripping off the tip of your nose as you stared down at your fist and Polypa’s hand still placed over yours. It took her choking out your name for you to finally look her in the face. Olive tears were streaming down her cheeks and she looked miserable. Like you had ripped the heart from her chest and stomped it into the dirt. 

“Everything you did was against your will?” Her voice was so small and for a moment you almost agreed. But that wasn’t what she was really asking. Reaching out you took her hands in yours and squeezed as tightly as you could. 

“The time we spent together was the closest I ever got to being myself. If it’s one thing I’d do over and over and over again it would be becoming your moirail. Never doubt that Polypa. Never.” A small keen left her lips and then you suddenly found yourself with a lap full of blubbering troll. Her claws were digging through the shirt you wore as her arms squeezed you like a vice. Words practically unintelligible and at least mostly in Alternian bubbled out of her in a tormented jumble. More tears gathered in your eyes as you cradled her close and started crying in earnest. You had your moirail back, of her own choice, and the dam you’d kept everything behind finally burst. 


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