Work Text:
Oh. He was here again. He hadn’t meant to; he didn’t even know how it happened. The table with its colored paper, paints, and pencils seemed so far away.
Even the hands. One slowly turned upwards, and its fingers twitched. His hand. There were his hands, and arm. They were, Wally thought, because they had to be.
It was like he was looking out through Home’s windows. That was silly. Home couldn’t fit in Eddie’s post office. Which was where he was. The post office.
He was helping him. It was time sensitive. But it wouldn’t matter in the end. Nothing mattered. It wasn’t real. It never was.
He wanted it to be. For his neighbors; his friends. Their voices danced back and forth through his ears. They were saying something. He could hear the words, but he couldn’t. They were like butterflies and no matter how carefully he swung his net, they would escape through a tear in the fabric.
The world turned in a soft cloud. Orange and yellow- Eddie and Sally. There was the purpose of his help. The topic… seemed to be something about an over hall. Over hall. Huh.
Was it important? Eddie looked… his face… He couldn’t, the identification kept spilling away. He wanted to know. He heard clearly their words, but he couldn’t listen. They were only words, but he wanted them to be more because they had been more once.
Light reflected off the room around him and off the two moving around. Nothing but piercing soft color and shapes. Nothing but shapes, sound, and color. Wally was encased by it, too.
It was difficult. The world wouldn’t turn because he couldn’t. He has arms and legs; he knows he does because he knows they’re there. It’s just fuzzy. He’s fuzzy. Yes.
Everything’s fuzzy and nothing would move. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t move. The world moved around him, and he wasn’t a part of the world. It was okay but he wanted to move.
He really wanted to move. He had things to do. Their current importance or relevance to him mattered naught. They mattered. They mattered. It was so hard to care right now but he wanted to care. He didn’t understand why but that was fine because it was best he didn’t know.
The world moved on. His name was said. Square, circle, circle, orange and red, white, black. Eddie was looking at him. Down turned mouth and eyebrows meant sad. He was apologizing to him.
Wally wanted to reassure him it was fine. Whatever it was, it was fine.
Eddie’s head tilted. Oh. Right, he had a mouth and a voice. He forgot how it’s supposed to work, but he didn’t forget. It wasn’t listening to him.
“Snow?” There it is. Not what he wanted to say, but it was a start. He could move his head a bit already.
“Uh, yeah, so… No more green grass and pretty flowers, I reckon. Sally decided that a winter setting worked better for her play.”
“Hm.” That response would have to do. It took a bit to try and parse out what he said and by the end his mouth didn’t want to move.
The prickly soft fuzz of light smoothed out. Eddie looked forlorn at all the work they’d done already. Wally could now see the painted sky and scattered paper flowers. He remembered some were origami, Eddie had sung about it.
“It’d be a shame for this to all go to waste, though. Maybe I can hang some of it up around the office here?” He looked to him for permission. It was unneeded, Wally was always happy to share his art with his neighbors.
The mental image of the post office decked out in flowers and shrubbery was appealing. The curve of his smile felt easier and the wood of the table under his hands felt solid. He wasn’t looking through himself anymore.
“That sounds just the most!”