Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The freezing air entering through a window, that's what wakes him up. The sound of leaves shaken by the rain, he feels…dizzy only able to describe his state as the aftermath of a long nap, he’s sweating and his skin feels hot to the touch.

He tries to make sense. Where was he?…. What was he doing?…umm… Who is….

Now that he puts a thought into it he realizes he doesn’t recall anything, not even his name.

Taking deep breaths recovering for whatever had happened to him he stands up to close the blinds, the breeze feels nice in his skin and the ambience smells fresh, he takes a look around and finds himself in a messy bedroom, books and papers everywhere and some clothes scattered around, aside from that, this was a very nice place to wake up.

Disoriented, he tries to pay attention to any details he may find to at least get a clue of where, why, when or even how he ended up here.

He takes a look at his clothes: the shirt he's wearing has an interesting pattern and his shorts look worn down. He notices some little scratches and already healing wounds, also his forearms are bandaged up, nothing hurts so he doesn’t mind. 

He is okay.

After exploring the room for a little bit he tries to open the door, but finds it locked. The only possible way being the window, it's too risky so he just sits on the floor thinking, surprisingly calm for a person that doesn’t know where or who they are, when something calls his attention; a notebook.

He reaches out for it, it's brand new, he rapidly flips through the pages and notices there are some of them missing, straight up torn apart. After a while of doing this he decides to read it:

“If your description matches the following then this is for you”

The first page is a brief text with a messy drawing of a stick figure underneath; it has spiky purplish hair, blue eyes and pale white skin, a note on the side reads:

“You must have THIS scar” while an arrow points at something censored…

He observes his reflection on the mirror, his body doesn’t feel like it belongs to him. Something is missing. Something is wrong.

He takes the time to examine himself looking for the scar, but doesn’t find anything; everything else matches the given description. However he finds something else in his forearm, it appears to be a tattoo over a large cut (not healed completely) a symbol he doesn’t recognize, he saves this information for later.

Right now the main question was who wrote it?, it was clear it was written for him; except for the scar, he matched the description, but there was no indication of the others identity or intention.

He flips to the next page.

“Your name is Randy Cunningham and you were ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇

Your life has been changed and your past has been forgotten, this was the ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇ and you might accept it with honor, no one can know about this

I can’t really describe what happened, I'm sorry”

–Im… Randy Cunningham…– he whispers

Censored words and a confusing description; that’s all on the second page, not legible. What can this person mean with “your past has been forgotten” and why would he accept it with honor? An attempt at wise words that failed because of what was missing.

He lies down on the floor and flips to the next.

It seems like there was a paragraph written but it's all scratched over, some words can be distinguished.

“Your ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ of ▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇ had been taken out, they ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ to assist ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇, however after ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇ ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇, Norrisville may be always peaceful and ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ may always be protected, ▇▇▇▇▇ has been already ▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇, now all that remains of us should be at peace ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇ gave to ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇.

▇  ▇▇▇▇▇ is always victorious”

– 忍者

He has the theory that there were 2 people involved, the one who wrote it and the one who censored it; because there’s no way that whoever wrote this would just regret it and cross it all out, it seems like it took a long time to find the right words to write it out, just for it to be censored...

Trying to make any sense of what it says, he spends a while looking for other clues, the pages ahead are torn apart, those that remained were all written over, doodles being a sign something was there.

Something important

He gets to a sheet full of information and some drawings.

“There’s one more thing you need to remember, your best friend”

The drawings below follow simple descriptions

• “His name is Howard Weinerman, looks like this; he's always wearing blue, it's his favorite color”

• “You’ve been friends with him since kindergarten. He knows everything about you and you know everything about him, we’ve been together through everything. I don't know what would be of my life if he wasn’t on it”

• “He likes food; especially Charlie Cluckers, Grave Puncher games, and chess i suppose, he dislikes books (in general he doesn’t like to read), doing stuff and basically anything that involves doing an effort”

If he hadn't found anything strange until now, this was the page that would have made him do it. It wasn’t even the fact that it's the longest so far and that it was written about someone else , but the lack of censorship, something was off about it.

Why would someone write all that about his so-called best friend? And why would the other not censor it? Whoever was censoring all the pages overlooked past this one, there seems to be a pattern on what he censors, seems to be significant information.Or maybe they did check it and found nothing to scratch. Nothing important

–maybe this guy is just irrelevant–  Randy said to himself. 

On the side lies a note, a desperate attempt at writing a warning:

“Don’t tell him about this, he’s going to get mad”

Processing this information was difficult, just trying to decipher it was giving him a migraine; but it's the only thing that is giving him an answer (a sketchy one for sure) so even if he doesn’t want to he has to trust it. 

What he knows at this point is: His name is Randy Cunningham, something indescribable happened that left him with no memories. 

He also has a Best Friend. His name is Howard, he's Irrelevant.

Most important, someone (presumably him, judging by the way it's written) wrote this information and someone else erased it/censored it.

But, Why?

–Ugh– A headache.

After looking at the notebook for a while, he closes it, leaving it at his side. All that thinking has made him tired, so he decides to rest a little. Before doing that, he closes the window expecting the rain to start falling soon just like him, maybe when he wakes up his mind would be clearer.

Chapter Text

Meaningless thoughts invade his head, digging around his brain like worms. Words form, but none of them make any sense, he can understand what they say but not what they refer to. There are different languages, he recognizes some kanji, when he tries to read it they change or blur. This dream feels weird, familiar and…

“▇▇▇▇ ▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇”

He wakes up even dizzier than the last time, his vision blurry and not being able to hear anything but a beeping sound. When he comes to his senses he can only hear a muffled buzzing. He feels weird, to say the least, the only way to describe that dream would be something “out of reach”.

Through the closed window the soft droplets of rain fall one after another, their reflections illuminating the night sky along the stars. It's been raining for a while, he’s still in the same place and nothing seems to have changed.

–Nobody has checked up on me?– He watches the clock, 8 hours have passed since he last checked out –Hasn’t anyone found it strange?–

That's until he hears the buzzing again and looks up the source of it. He finds a phone under the bed. It has 51 unread messages and 6 lost calls, all from the same number, someone named Howard.

–So this must be who that guy I was referring to. –

The most recent texts (most recent being 3 minutes ago) are a combination of uppercase texts and emojis

[WHERE ARE YOU?!?!!??]

[TOLD YOU TO BE HERE AT 4 WTJ DUDEE]

[I'M GONNA KILL YOU 🗡️ 💢💢]

[48+ ᴍᴇssᴀɢᴇs]

The phone case was a bright red and it had a charm whose form could not be seen, this must be his own phone.

He tried to unlock it, keyword being “tried” since he doesn’t remember the code. More messages arrive:

[Stop ignoring me]

[I'm getting worried]

[U OK??]

[ISTG if you're on the ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇]

[51+ ᴍᴇssᴀɢᴇs]

– Knows too much for being irrelevant–

He couldn’t read that last word, no idea why. This Howard guy was desperate to say the least, what was he supposed to be doing?? Why was it so important?

He knows something, he wrote a word, a trigger. Another row of texts arrives

[Answer]

[Answer]

[Answer]

[Cunningham answer your damn phone]

[55+ ᴍᴇssᴀɢᴇs]

– He knows my name…–

Now the phone starts buzzing, just at the last second he hesitates to answer. What was he going to say? If it's something important, the notebook would’ve said so. it also said he couldn’t say anything, maybe this was a secret he had to keep to himself, and "Howard" seemed angry. He doesn't want to make him angrier, who knows what he could do, he's terrified to find out .

He just waits hoping the call goes away, not taking his eyes out of the phone. It seems like forever until it stops ringing, He regrets it after.

Why didn’t he answer? He realizes he's not thinking logically, the right answer would’ve been to answer the phone. The right thing to do was exhaust his vocal cords until his pleas for help were answered. The right thing to do was not taking the Ü̶̢̧̲̟͈͓̫̳͐̀̃́͋͌̂̀̎̎͐̔͘l̸̳̟̝̥̫͕̹͖͖̳̖̘̳̫̟̱̥͔̺̜͆͒̔̋͑̑̑̈͂̚͝͝ͅt̸̻̱̖̔̒͋̃̀́͂̏̾͐̓͒̈́̚͠͝į̸̧̛̼̭͈̤̰̲̠̼̬̦̳̼͎͕̘̌̓̏͋̀͆̃͋̆̈̎͑̏́̎͒͐̑̊̔͝͝m̴̨̧̛͉͎̺̟̫͈̲͈̠̰͓̜͖̘̮̜̋̄̓̈́̇̾͒̏̋͒͗̒̀̈̈́̒̓̀̑͘͝͝ä̵̡̻́̒̽͑͋̂̿̌̅͒̋͐͊̈̆͊̀͋̉̔͘͝͝͝t̴̼͈̹̲̪̠̺̩͚̏̑͗̍̓́̃̅ȩ̵͚̩̳̥̙̫̖̭̟̫̩̜̘̱͔̪͂̍̇͂̔̐̀͛̈́̆̏͜͝͠ ̶̨̢̛̛̛͈̹͙̀̈́͆̄͐̅͆̀́̄̈́̿͑̚L̶̨̯̤͍͕̪̠͙͒̂͗̀̉̽͑̃͊̀͌̍̅͌́̈͊̏̋̕ȩ̶̗͉̖̞͙͈̗̮̖͉̗̼͔̼̽̃͗͑̄̒͐̄̍̾́̆̈̓̆̄̔͝ṣ̵̝̥̬͈̦̦̥̞͉͉̼̹̪̱̈́̋̋̓ͅs̴̩͊̑̉̀o̸̢͕̰̙̬͚̯̠̐͜n̶̦͉̮̲͋͋̏̔ͅ.

–Wait– His mind goes blank

He just remembered something important didn’t he?

Now an ephemeral concept. Not able to recall what it was.

He realizes he got lost in his own mind. Again. Enjoying the sweet oblivion of the situation he set himself in. 

Again.

Just like the last time

Exactly like the last time??

–How much time has passed?– Someone is knocking outside

The clock has a difference of 1 hour

It feels so… wrong, he’s supposed to feel panic, fear, discomfort, but he... doesn’t. This whole situation feels twisted but there’s something reassuring in that, like all his survival senses have been turned off, telling him he’s fine.

So…comforting.

That’s what feels so wrong, he knows he should feel negative emotions but he can’t bring himself to, he’s confused. The knocking intensifies

Numbness hits again and he starts to see symbols and letters. they don’t make sense but he feels warm inside just by looking at them.

He doesn’t care, none of this makes sense anyways. He just wants to sleep this away, taking advantage of the fact that he is tired. Someone is calling his “name”

His eyes start to close, fatigue takes over and he falls to the floor, face first. The pain vanishes, a soothing sensation over all his body. They call louder

“▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇ ▇▇ ▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇”

Chapter Text

Calling him Randy was weird, but what was even weirder was the look on his face, naive, oblivious to him. To who he was. To everything really.

Like if he…

Realization hits him like a truck

He stood there in shock, Randy was already in Mindwipe age, what did he expect?! ofc the Nomicon wouldn’t give them a warning.

-Well this is awkward- he thought as he got closer, he was able to see the fear in the other's eyes. He was terrified but that familiar look in his eyes never dissipated.

Seeing him being so vulnerable was weird, especially because in Randy’s eyes he was the threat. They are each others confidents, how can he look at him like that?

Howard came to a halt.

Assimilating changes was always a challenge for him, everything was always changing; for the good, for the better, for the bad or for the worse. Eternal wither and bloom. He didn’t like changes because it always came with two sides, and he always focused on the bad one. When her sister moved out for college he felt happy; she was noisy, always in a bad mood and sometimes annoying, but now whenever he was at home he felt alone, he missed her even if he didn’t like to admit it. That's why he started to spend more time with… Randy..

Many said that they complemented each other; Randy was "positive" always trying to see the bright side and find alternative solutions also being the one who messed up things in the first place, but Howard was much more realistic; his role was to put Randy's feet on the ground when he needed it.

But now...

Not even Howard could know what the other was thinking, this side of him was so "uncanny", he’s not right.

The first time this happened it was a mistake. One they were able to correct, and it was okay (he supposes). Randy knew how he felt about the “Mindwipe situationship” so he keep his mouth shut on the subject while being around him (all the time if you mind), he prefers to think this is an awful awful joke, but this time it seemed genuine. Terrifyingly genuine.

–This can’t be no mistake– he says to himself, and with an unreadable expression on his face Randy looks at him. He’s thinking, that’s for sure. On another time he would’ve been able to decipher him, “read him like an open book” both would say, now everything was different, his mannerisms were too tense and careful, like he didn’t knew trusted the person in front of him. Like he hasn’t known him his entire life.

The thought of it was destroying him.

Changes were supposed to be made; to move forward in life and stuff, but what if someone changes backwards? What is he supposed to do? The answer isn't anywhere to be found, and ironically enough this IS a lesson, but how are you supposed to get to the answer if they are were dependant to each other?, if they did everything together? who is one without the other?

Howard took a few steps backwards letting everything sink in. What was he going to do? He dosn’t know how to fix this, last time it was Randy who fixed it (and he refused to listen to how he did it)

-Okay.. its time to calm down look at “the other side of the coin” like Heidi told you to- He enjoyed every single one of those memories with his biffer. Start again, make new memories. Make up for every bad time, it could be worth it

–Do you need help?– He says in a soft voice. Being nice wasn’t his forte and he was REALLY trying. For him

Howard extends his hand and tries to help Randy up, but the other only responds by staring at him, he had to try from another angle –That scar you have there– Pointing to his chest –That means you’re a… true hearted hero, you got it stopping someone from getting hurt– he says and at this point he was holding back the urge to laugh (cry really), telling him those cheesy things was stupid, but he needed to win his trust somehow. He knew appealing to his pride would work.

Who does he think he’s kidding? of course this wouldn’t work, this type of things were always Randy’s responsibility. Responsibilities that lead him to this in the first place.

He could only ponder; what would Randy do if he was here? he is here

They made up funny stories to cover it all up, but Howard never thought he would be telling them to the person who lived them.

Chapter Text

He recalled the last time they had a heart to heart, it was in their junior year, after a rather violent fight that left Randy with severe bruises. Both were reflecting on how things went

– I wish i could forget about all of this and live a normal life– Randy spoke there was no emotion only fatigue in his voice, Howard could tell he was being honest.

– It would be boring, but so much better– He was talking all too mature for his age, he hated when he did that, he was doing it very often lately and Howard hated it, in fact he would’ve already shut him up if it wasn’t for the fact that he agreed. 

He always thought that being the Ninja was great. To have people that admired you and loved to see you would have to feel incredible, until he had to see the other side of the coin, people admired him for one reason and that was: the Ninja was facing blows, scratches and a lot of pain, both physical and emotional. He often thought destiny punished him by his bad behavior by making the person who carried that mantle be his best friend, the person he loves the most. Randy always said it was worth it to see people's faces, but that didn't stop the bruises from hurting.

He didn’t shut him up, he didn’t say anything, and the next day things were back to normal, not uncomfortable normal but like nothing ever happened, he knew Randy (and himself) it would be uncomfortable if any of them addressed the topic. 

Even back then, he knew these brief “mature convos” in which Randy opened up were very rare (he could count them with one hand), and that bringing them up would make things weird and Randy would stop talking.

Reminiscing made him nauseous, the dwelling on his stomach was back, he always ignored it until it went away, it was his way of coping with it, and it worked every time, not this time though, he had to think about it to get an answer.

Thousands of things were going through his mind, and the look in the other's eyes didn't help. Howard felt like he was sinking more and more, until Randy made him react.

–You are Howard, right? – Randy asked

Pause

--Listen the book told me not to, but– Randy said, then Howard interrupted

–The book??, you remember the stupid book but not me?! where is it?? I want to talk to it–

He went berserk, making the already messy room into chaos. He threw clothes into the air, glasses, books, and valuable action figures were being destroyed, everything was going down, and he didn’t care; he just wanted to talk to the Nomicon in hopes of finding an answer. He was desperate if he wanted advice from it.

He needed it, he didn’t know what he was going to do with it, maybe destroy it and take revenge for the lost years, or maybe plead to it for Randy’s memories in exchange for his own, I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it, he thought

He froze on top of Randy’s bed, something stuck on his throat a knot on the stomach he was just about to scream, reviewing his path, and there he spotted it: his biffer taking a defensive stance, arms gripping a journal, one he knew, the one Randy kept.

He felt so stupid, of course, he wasn’t talking about the Nomicon.

How would he know about it if he got mindwiped?? 

Then his rage turned into sorrow. He couldn’t take it anymore, a few tears slipped and then stopped because how dare he cry now, he was no coward, he wasn’t going to stop trying, he wasn’t going to cry his problems out until he pretended, they disappeared like…

Randy had the notebook, it was clear he was protecting it, and it told him something (maybe notebooks also talked to him now??), but then he looked at his arm and everything else stopped mattering.

The bandage on his arm

with a fresh stain

-You did this to yourself, right?! Just look at it! --

Howard says, grabbing his forearm, leaving the recent cut exposed. He looked at it himself, not really expecting to see the injury, disgusted, this was not a usual wound. No, it was made on purpose.

Everything went quiet, time froze, and nothing registered. He began to feel nauseous, but it was different; it wasn’t focused on the sensation of throwing up, impulsive and repulsive, more like he couldn’t process things, like he wanted this information out of his system.

He had to make himself forget it

Otherwise, he would not be able to look at Randy without thinking of this; without feeling like an idiot for not noticing something was wrong or for not talking with him when he did recognize it, just because he wasn’t comfortable with being vulnerable, without felling pity for him and disrespecting his stupid wish.

That's basically why Randy liked being the Ninja. People looked up to him, they felt safe around him, and expected great things from him. Howard noticed how he felt pride in that, and he took that as the sign to close off completely, not letting anyone see him vulnerable, even in his private life, where no one knew his identity. It was easier that way, he didn’t have to draw lines or limits between lives. Who would care anyway? It was only temporary. he was doing this to himself.

Except he wasn’t.

He knew it could have consequences; his pride and joy could be easily destroyed.

And he could have someone else living with that grief.

This lasted enough, Howard needed answers.

Did the Nomicon tried to kill him?? Or was it himself?

He raised his gaze and saw Randy. He might be out of himself, but in a moment like this, when he reacted on instinct, it was easier to read the idiot’s expression; it was telling him to stop that he didn’t have the strength to stop it, but most importantly, he was disoriented trying to grasp everything together.

That face

He had never seen that face, Randy always knew; he had a thought, a hypothesis of who could be behind, an idea of what was happening, a feeling down in his gut. Something

He was sure Randy was indestructible, unbreakable; he always stood up after every punch and recovered from any wound because his determination was so strong it stuck to Howard, it was so powerful that it was enough to convince himself that nothing was wrong, to ignore the emotional pain it caused in him.

Howard was sure he also convinced himself of it; it was the most difficult part of lying; you had to believe it. Randy believed he could take on anything, defeat everything

But he couldn’t defeat his destiny, something set in stone. He had seen the consequences of escaping it, how it could drive you power crazy.

He thought time wouldn’t catch up with him, he didn’t think something could hit him

But it had. And it did.

And he had none of that determination, he was vulnerable.

That was the turning point for Howard, it didn’t matter what he thought or felt now, he had to help him, he had to be the bigger person here not because he was good at it, but because no one else was going to do it; he had to be mature for once, and he had a duty (funny).

It didn’t matter what had happened before; he was going to make things right now, and he was going to be what he relied on.