Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jack's mind raced as he walked his familiar route home. He wasn't mad at Stan for telling him to leave the party, but even in his drained, post-gig state he could sense something was off between them. He suspected that Stan only let him join SeX-rays to kill two birds with one stone, his cool college band would have a drummer and Jack would be able to hang out with his brother outside the house. He would never say it out loud but he felt like a third wheel, in fact he felt like he was watching them ride a tandem bike perfectly in sync while he desperately tried to catch up on a unicycle. He couldn't shake the feeling he could be doing more. He wanted to give his own ideas, he wanted to write songs, but he could never imagine himself doing those things. Even if Stan asked him to help with songwriting he would insist he stay behind the drum set. Jack started to seriously wonder; what damage would it do if he left his comfort zone? What would even happen if he let his mind run wild? He had some lyrics, he wrote some music, he could play the keyboard well enough to pitch it to the band, but he didn't have the balls to try. It was like there was a part of himself he hadn't met yet. The part of him that would have the balls to go for it. The part of him that could take his dreams and make them reality. The part of him that's confident, free of inhibition, strong both physically and emotionally, like the heroes from his favorite movies. Okay maybe not that cool, those movies earned him the nickname 'fuckin' nerd', but he knew there was more to him than that. If he could just unlock this hidden potential, he could use his music to bring some good into the world.

Jack sighed solemnly, rejecting the idea. He had way too many hesitations circling around his brain. Breaking out of his thoughts, he realized he was about to turn onto his street and stopped in an instant. His deep thought had distracted him from how tired he was, so he looked up at the night sky while he caught his breath. His mom would definitely worry if she knew he walked several blocks by himself. As Jack stood with his hands in his sweatshirt pocket something extraordinary caught his eye. A shooting star brighter than any star he'd ever seen streamed across the dark, cloudy sky. His eyes were instantly transfixed, unable to focus on anything else. It had to be a sign. Almost instinctively he sprinted after it. This was his wake up call, his chance to make his dream a reality. After this he was going to show Stan the song he'd been working on. He bolted away from his house, down streets, through crosswalks, and into the dense Canadian forest. His legs felt like they were about to collapse but he didn't care. He was utterly helpless but to look upon on the fiery ball of light and follow it wherever it went. He secretly always believed there was some scientific evidence behind wishing on shooting stars, and when he heard the star plummet to the forest floor he was sure he was going to prove it, but what he found was no shooting star.

Jack stood in utter disbelief. The shooting star was in fact a burning metallic heap with broken wing-like parts detached from it.
"That looks like a spaceship" Jack thought. "Which would be way better than a shooting star if it weren't also crazy."

Suddenly there was an eerie glow emanating from the vessel. The only things Jack could hear was the rapid beating of his own heart and muffled shouting coming from inside it. Jack cautiously crept over to the wreckage, leaves and twigs crunching beneath him with every step, and began removing the debris blocking a hatch like door. Suddenly the door flew open, knocking him to the ground. His vision began to get hazy. All he could make out was a shadowy figure poking their conical head out of the hatch, and then everything went black.

.........................................................................

"BRO! Get your FUCKIN' alarm!"

Stan stood above his brother's bed shaking him lightly. The cacophony of Jack's alarm clock and Stan's usual morning compliants confirmed his suspicions about the strange events from last night. It was all a crazy dream, and he was still a fuckin' nerd. Jack rubbed his eyes and began to collect his thoughts.

"Dude, I'm feeling absolutely cramdangled after last night." He groaned as he threw a pillow.

"Cut me some slack!"

Stan walked out the door, dodging the weakly thrown pillow, but immediately returned with a confused look on his face.

"Cramdangled?"

Chapter Text

Jack stared in the mirror, confusion coursing through his body. The strange costume he woke up in consisted of a tight yellow bodysuit with black stripes down the side, a chest plate with a glowing object in the center, and a long black cape. It looked ridiculous, yet familiar. It somehow fit him perfectly, but he wasn't this guy. The confusion slowly turned to admiration as he continued to examine the costume. The light glinting off the silver shoulder pads, a belt-like bag hugging his waist and leg, it was a lot to take in. He looked like a superhero or a rockstar, or a crazy, amazing combination of both. He envied the maniac who could really do this outfit justice. Jack would've stared in the mirror for hours if there wasn't a loud knock at his door.

"Are you alright in there, honey?"

His mom's voice hurled him back to reality. He rapidly took off the costume as he answered.

"Y-yeah I'm good! Just getting dressed."

He threw the bodysuit and it's various accessories under his bed and grabbed the first items of normal clothing he saw.

It was time to take this seriously. Strange things had been happening ever since the night the shooting star fell. Every night Jack would suddenly black out, have a crazy dream involving him wearing what looked like a traffic cone, and wake up the next morning with no memory of what happened the night before. He'd chalked it up to subconscious regret until that morning but this had officially gotten too strange to keep to himself. He pulled a grey tank top over his head and took a deep breath. Fully dressed in ordinary clothes he walked down the stairs and into the living room. Stan was sitting on the couch, notebook in hand, focused on whatever was on the page.

"Hey, brah." Jack said with a small wave.

"Hey, I've been waiting for you, dude." Stan said as he handed him the notebook."This is some decent stuff. I don't know why you were so nervous to show me."

The scribble ridden paper that contained Jack's unfinished song was included with the rest of Stan's notebook. Jack was utterly horrified. Not only was his private project now in Stan's possession, he also had no idea how he found it.

"Where the hell did you get this?" Jack asked in disbelief.

"You gave it to me last night, and I specifically remember it because you said it in such a weird way." Stan cleared his throat and stood up straight to reenact their conversation."You handed me this thing at like a full arms length away from me and said 'I've been meaning to show you my musical endeavor but I'm afraid it fucking sucks. Do what you must with it.' but honestly, bud, this is really good."

Jack had no recollection of doing that at all, but had a feeling it had something to do with his newfound amnesia.

"Could we go for a walk or something, Stan?There's something I need to tell you."

.........................................................................

Jack told him everything as they walked down the street.

"I've been having these recurring dreams. There's something about a device, and these dastardly haters that I'm fighting?"

He desperately tried to make sense of it all as he vented. Stan listened intently, despite not understanding any of it.

"It feels like they're all leading to something!"

Stan took a pause to process whatever was happening. The distress in his brother's words was palpable, even though he seemed fine the last few days. In fact he had been more cheerful since the shooting star fell, which made the distress even more worrying. Stan wasn't entirely sure what he was going through but he was going to make sure he was there when he needed him.

"Bro, are you okay? Maybe you should take some time off next semester." His question came off a bit more concerned than he intended, and Jack certainly took notice.

"I'm fine," Jack sighed. "I just feel like there's these memories in my head that I can't explain."

Suddenly Jack jumped and recoiled from something on the sidewalk, a terrified scream escaping his mouth. An odd looking fire hydrant was the cause of his fear. It was painted bright yellow with black on the outlets, and there was a traffic cone placed on top of it. Stan pointed and chuckled at it.

"It's wearing a little hat." He hoped the observation would relax his brother, but Jack just stood petrified in front of the cone fire hydrant.

"How about we head home." Stan suggested. "We could keep working on your first musical endeavor."

"That's a great idea. Let's do that." Jack nodded vigorously as he grabbed Stan's hand, speed walking in the opposite direction.

.........................................................................

Stan walked into the living room with snacks to find Jack about an inch away from the TV staring at a paused screen.

"Whatcha doing there, bud?" He questioned as he put the junk food down.

They often left the news on as background noise while they wrote and today was no different, other than Jack's behavior.

"I can't read it. It just looks like garbled letters! Am I losing my mind?" Jack's face looked as if he was pleading with him to say no, but Stan's strained sigh was all the confirmation he needed. He flopped on the couch and handed Stan the remote.

"Let's just shoot the shit while I slowly go insane. That cool with you?" His voice was a mix of sarcastic and dejected, he couldn't imagine what this looked like to Stan.

"I mean, that's basically been our vibe since you were born so-"

Jack's cackle was so sudden he had to lean forward to release some of it's energy. It instantly made him feel better.

"-So of course I'm cool with that." Stan continued through his own laughter.

"Fuck you, dude! I'm reheating some chili do you want any?" Jack asked as he bounced off the couch.

"Y'know what sure, nerd."

Before he turned off the TV, Stan looked at the headline Jack was having trouble with. He started to connect some dots, as far fetched as they were. All the disconnected events Jack had described; blacking out, memories that weren't his, the drastic personality changes, all of it could be explained or at least connected if the headline was true. It might also explain why he couldn't read three words:

'ALIENS IN HALIFAX'

Chapter Text

Sung's direct orders were to stay on the ship, attempt to fix it, and stay out of sight. Meouch thought it was utter bullshit. Sung wasn't stuck inside for days like the rest of them! What was he even doing? The self proclaimed fearless hero said he was 'gathering information about how to integrate on this planet' which no one believed but Phobos, the poor sucker. Meouch knew it was code for 'I don't wanna deal with you guys because I'm too good for you'. They'd been making great progress on the ship without him, anyway. The power was back on, most of the systems were online, and the ship's bay was finally clean. All that was left to do was wait for Sung to get back so they could jam.

"Wasn't that dumbass supposed to be back by now?" Meouch asked no one in particular. He knew no one would answer. Havve was sitting in a corner, slouching forward, eyes dark. The robot hadn't been able to recharge since the crash landing so he was probably gonna be out for a while. Meouch shuddered thinking of what a fully charged Havve could do.

Phobos was sitting on his bed, taking notes while reading the ship's manual. It was one of the few things that made this situation feel normal. Days were too short on this planet, his room was practically a closet, he hadn't had a full night's sleep in days, he was sure he'd start crying if he thought about it too much. So, he decided to devote all his energy into fixing the ship and improving his guitar skills.

Phobos poked his head into the control room and looked around, wondering the same thing as Meouch.

"That bastard isn't here yet." Meouch said through bites of Food Bar. Phobos threw his head back and sighed.

"Exactly. Fuck us, right?"

The usual routine was pretty simple. Sung would go 'gather intel' when the sun rose, then he'd come back a bit after sunset. They stuck to that metric for time because the way humans told time was so confusing. Meouch stood up and looked out the windshield. It was already the middle of the night.

"I can't keep eating fucking Food Bars." He said as he chucked the half eaten bar into a trash can. "I want a sandwich or something."

Phobos nodded in agreement and turned to a fresh page in his notepad. He showed the page to Meouch when he was done writing.

Absolutely, I need to eat ACTUAL FOOD.
"Yes!" Meouch instantly went for a high five. Phobos cautiously put his hand up as he braced for impact. Were high fives supposed to hurt? His pained expression didn't deterr Meouch's enthusiasm.

"I want two pieces of bread and some sort of deceased animal inside!"

Phobos immediately went to his notepad, his white eyes filled with fear.

I suppose anything would taste better than stale, prepackaged bars of cone food.

Meouch laughed as soon as he read it. "You've got a way with words, my friend." He shoved the notepad back into Phobos' hands.

"Y'know what, fuck him. I'm going to get some actually good shit, what do you want?" Meouch began taking various items out of his vest pockets.

You're going to sneak out? Phobos gasped, his usually bright green skin looking a bit pale.

"You got a problem with that, Lord Perfect?" Phobos scoffed as he wrote his response. He was just worried, that didn't make him perfect. It made him sane.

What if Havve wakes up while you're gone?

"Like that bucket of bolts could stop me!"

What happens if Sung gets back and you're still out?

"It's none of his fuckin business where I'm going."

It kind of is because he told us to stay here.

"Who's side are you on?" Meouch walked towards the door but Phobos blocked his path.

I just don't want you to get into trouble!

Phobos knew Meouch could handle himself. He'd been to tons of other planets and fought his way out of tight spots Phobos couldn't imagine, but he couldn't help remembering what Sung said. This planet wasn't used to intergalactic life and it could be dangerous.

Maybe Sung told us to stay on the ship for a reason. He looked dead serious, scared but serious.

"I'll be careful, alright?" Meouch reached for the hatch door. "You're not gonna narc on me, are ya?"

Phobos shook his head defeated. He wasn't changing Meouch's mind and whatever happened to him after he walked out was his problem. Maybe he would wake up Havve, just in case.

Phobos wasn't sure how long Havve had been out, he usually avoided him at all costs, but it was his last resort. Meouch knew better than to mess with Havve. He learned that lesson while they were attempting to fix the hyperdrive the day before. Taking tools from a murderous robot was not a good idea, it ended in a fight that nearly took Meouch's tail off. A knife was still stuck in the wall where Havve threw it.

Phobos wondered what could wake him up. How do you wake someone who wasn't technically sleeping? He had one idea that might get him killed, but nevertheless he went through with it. He wrote down the explanation for why he was doing this, hid in the small hallway between the cockpit and Havve's room, which was an actual closet, and periodically threw random things at him. Food Bar wrappers, loose screws, anything he could find really. It wasn't until a drum stick hit his jagged, metal jaw that he jolted upright and his eyes began to emit an intense red light. His head violently jerked in all directions, searching for the source of the attack. Phobos rushed out of his hiding place and showed the notepad explanation to Havve, almost using it like a shield from whatever brutal punishment Havve had in mind. He stopped to read the page;

Meouch snuck out and said you wouldn't be able to stop him.

His eyes were even more intense than before, they were practically laser pointers. He ripped out the page, crushed it into a ball, and threw it across the ship. Phobos watched in terror as Havve pushed the hatch door open, making a loud slam as it banged on the side of the ship. When Phobos poked his head of the doorway, Havve was already gone. It dawned on him that he'd made a terrible mistake unleashing the two most chaotic band mates onto this planet. All that was left to do was wait for Sung to get back so he could deal with the aftermath.

Chapter Text

"You boys need a hand out there?" Mr. Lecurno stood in the entryway to the garage, watching his kids and their friends struggle to carry an amp to the back doors of a big white van.

"No thanks, dad! We're fine!" Stan shouted, obviously not fine.

The boys always struggled loading equipment into the van. It never seemed like that much going in to it, but they were always out of breath afterwards.

He laughed softly and shook his head as he went inside. "Suit yourself kiddo, have fun at the show!"

"Jack!" The guitarist looked around. "Where are ya, bud?"

"Joe, do you even see him anywhere?" Stan looked around for his brother or even his equipment, but both were missing.

"I kinda feel bad that the shortest member of the band has to lug the most shit around." The bassist said. "But that's just part of being a drummer."

"Andy, my brother's not that short." Stan said defensively. "You know how he feels about that shit."

"You know, I have been growing!"

Jack suddenly came around the corner of the house carrying the entirety of his drum set, each piece stacked precariously on top of the other. He effortlessly set the stack down and blew a tendril of hair out of his face. "At least my own brother sticks up for me." He murmured sarcastically.

"How the fuck did you do that?" Joe shouted, gesturing vaguely to the stack.

"I mean, it's just picking shit up." Jack replied as he packed his equipment. "It's not exactly rocket surgery."

Andy let out a small laugh. "Ha, I get it."

Jack's attitude was slightly off-putting, he was usually pretty quiet, but today he was practically emitting positive energy. It was infectious, palpable even. It was strange for a wallflower like him.

"You feeling better, kid?" Andy patted him on the back.

"Why would I not be feeling better?" Jack laughed.

"Remember last week, I think? Stan said you went home early from my post show house party. I just wanna know that you're good."

Jack didn't respond, instead he blanky stared at the ground while making a low humming sound. He couldn't respond. His mind became flooded with memories of what happened that night, the night the shooting star fell. It replayed in his mind over and over again. He remembered living through more than what happened to him, like he'd lived another lifetime before that moment, a feeling he could've gotten used to at this point. The intense flasbacks ended as quickly as they began, and he suddenly couldn't remember what was troubling him at all.

"No, I don't seem to have any memory of that whatsoever! Let's hit the road!" He practically flipped into the van as his band mates stared in confusion.

.........................................................................

"Did you guys see that new alien story?" Joe asked, breaking the awkward silence seeping through the van.

"I don't follow tabloids, man." Andy replied from the back seat.

Joe rolled his eyes. "Even if it's all bullshit this is still some funny stuff."

"What did it say?" Jack had been following the story too but not because he thought it was funny. He was absolutely positive there was a connection between the alien sightings and whatever was wrong with him, so he'd been following the story like a hawk. So far, the results were inconclusive at best. All he had was that the cone shaped helmet in all the reports felt familiar.

"A witness said they saw a lion man, a robot, and a guy with a traffic cone on his head fighting in the parking lot of a guitar center. Fucking hysterical, right?" Joe's laughed quieted when he saw Jack's terrified face in the rear view mirror. Andy pushed his seat playfully.

"Don't let him freak you out man, I'm sure aliens aren't coming for ya any time soon."

Jack had a gut feeling that wasn't true, or maybe it was pre show nerves.

.........................................................................

Jack always got pre show nerves. It was just part of preforming for him. The usual symptoms happened every show; he couldn't eat, he'd bite his nails, and it was terrifying talking to anyone. One of the reasons he was content to stay in the back, behind everyone else. Stan was the biggest advocate for getting him out of his shell but he was nowhere close to having frontman levels of confidence. Which is why it made zero sense to him that he was sent to get the boys their pre show pizza.

"And what name is the order under?" The cashier asked, not looking up from her notepad.

"Stone LaChismo." Jack said without hesitation.

The cashier gave him a confused glance. "I'm sorry?"

"Stone LaChismo." He repeated, sure as ever.

She paused for a moment, flipping through the orders on her notepad. "I'll check if we have-."

"Wait," Jack interrupted "I got it mixed up, it should be under Stan Lecurno, sorry about that." His breathy, nervous laughter made the situation even more awkward.

'How the fuck did I come up with Stone LaChismo? That's not even a name!' Jack thought to himself. 'That would be a pretty sick stage name though.'

.........................................................................

The pre show checklist would have gone off without a hitch if it weren't for the soundcheck. About halfway through the song the visions returned and they were far more intense than earlier. Jack felt like he was phasing in and out of reality. One moment he was drumming, the next playing a keytar. One second he was drowning in anxiety, the next he was elated. The feelings were constant and never the same thing twice. It was as if something was trying to break out of his mind and tear him in half. He suddenly dropped his drum sticks and heard himself hyperventilating.

"Dude, are you ok?" Stan asked, both of his hands on Jack's shoulders. He slowed his breathing as the rest of the boys stared, concerned and a bit freaked out.

"Sorry, guys. I'm just feeling a little off, did I miss anything?" Their eyes bore into his soul, he could feel the shame burning inside his chest. He could deal with his brother thinking he was crazy, he already thought that, but knew he'd die if anyone else did. Stan took the drum sticks out of his hands.

"If you're feeling sick or something that's totally fine. It's up to you if you wanna stay."

"I'm fine, I think I'm just gonna take a walk."

"Cool," Stan patted him on the shoulder and handed the drumsticks to Joe. "Whenever you're ready, brah."

Jack took deep breaths as he walked away from the venue. 'Just around the block, whenever you're ready.' He thought to himself. Stan's words were already helping him calm down. He'd be ready to rock in no time. He turned the corner, and everything went black.

.........................................................................

The sound of a party woke him up. Jack heard his brother's voice from downstairs and nearly fell down the stairs running to it. He saw his brother and the rest of SeX-rays drinking and laughing in the living room. The sky was dark, the van was back in the driveway, he missed the entire show.

Jack ran back to his room, shut the door and sunk his head into his pillow, fighting back tears.

"What is wrong with me!" He shouted into his pillow.

What would he even tell them? The actual explanation for his absence sounded completely insane, and any lie he could think of made him sound like a total dick. There was nothing left but to sit in the shame and regret.

"I truly apologize for this." A voice said. The voice seemed to be coming from his own head, yet it was loud enough to actually hear.

"I never meant to hurt you. I didn't think you'd notice at all, but that was a miscalculation on my part, not a fault of yours."

Jack jumped off his bed and looked around the dark room. He was still alone. He sat back down and put his head in his hands.

"Oh my god, I actually lost my mind!" He said in between panicked breaths.

"Oh no no no, not at all!" The voice quickly replied. "After all I've l put you through, the least I could do is give you some answers."

A bright glow appeared in the middle of Jack's bedroom. He watched in awe as it slowly began to take a familiar humanoid form. The yellow bodysuit with black stripes down the sides, the bright orange conical helmet, Jack couldn't believe it. He was right. The figure stood translucent in front of him. He began to inspect himself, like he was checking if all of him was there.

"I apologize for my appearance, I'm normally more opaque than this, but this darn atmosphere! You know how it is." The figure spoke with the same disembodied voice. "I suppose we should properly meet at this point."

Chapter Text

"Greetings, human. In my band's ongoing campaign to end boredom the universe over, we seek to unite all children of the cosmos to join our cause, one planet at a time." The cone boy said. "This is what brings me to you. It shattered my perception of reality to learn recently that fifth dimensional beings, such as myself, cannot materialize on your planet."

"I'm sorry, fifth dimensional?" Jack interjected.

"Again, human, you need not apologize for what happened. The fault is all mine."

His confidence was a bit overwhelming, so Jack didn't correct him.

"So I needed a stable host with a corporeal form, which in this case is you, to continue my work. Earth continues to amaze me, but I digress. Allow me to introduce myself and my intentions,"

A strange feeling of relief came over Jack. He wasn't going crazy, he was actually possessed. A whole new set of problems came with that knowledge, but he didn't need to think about the implications right now.

"I am Doctor Sung; intergalactic groove crusader; ageless meta-being of the cosmos; and frontman of the band TWRP. Aside from keytar and synthesexory manipulation, my role within the band lies in interdimensional diplomacy, communications, and female seduction, and as such I am the band's primary representative here on Earth." Jack nodded like he understood any of that.

"Despite our fairly recent crash land and the fact that we're basically stranded here, I'm certain that TWRP's dominance of Earth draws one step nearer. It is our intention to oust the forces that would hinder the advancement of fun and joy and replace them with tools of entertainment..."

Sung went on and on, as if he liked hearing the sound of his own voice. This was unbelievable. It was like something out of a movie. Jack didn't really know how to feel about this revelation. What would he tell his family? Was this even real? It had to be, he saw the spaceship himself and the alien sightings started after that night. This was definitely real. He felt strangely flattered by Sung's explanation so far. Out of all the people in Halifax this interdimensional superhero could've picked, he chose Jack. His weirdness led him to this surreal situation, no normal person would have approached a burning spaceship in the middle of the woods. Maybe being weird was actually going to pay off.

"And of course, frenzied dance parties will continue to erupt in our wake, replacing human sadness with cosmic elation. But we can't do this alone. I need your help."

"Why me, specifically?" Jack was almost scared of knowing the answer.

"The unlikelihood of finding a host that has such a striking resemblance to me cannot be denied. If we're going to complete our mission I would still need you as a vessel." Sung's voice had a rare twinge of shame.

"I would be willing to discuss with you how you'd like to go about doing that. It's truly the least I could do after today."

Jack heard the sound of pounding footsteps racing up the stairs and darting past his bedroom.

"I would like to discuss a game plan for this, among other things, but can you wait until everyone falls asleep?"

Sung could sense the stark shift in Jack's emotions. Before it was mostly confusion with some admiration sprinkled in, who could blame him, but his whispered plea was practically made of pure stress. An immense amount of fear for someone not in immediate danger. It perplexed him, but he honored the request.

"I shall return when everyone is asleep, and until then I wish you fewer negative emotions."

Before Jack could figure out if that was meant to be an insult or not there was a knock at his door. He immediately climbed into bed and pretended to sleep.

"You're being too loud! Your brother's not feeling well!" His mom shouted at the band of lightly buzzed children. She opened the door a crack and went back downstairs.

"How about you sleep over at your friend's house tonight, Stan?"

.........................................................................

Jack sat on the couch eating a small plate of nachos. They somehow tasted better at two in the morning. He looked over at Sung, who was staring in bewilderment at the midnight snack.

"Did you want some?" Jack held out a chip.

"I doubt I could eat in this form, plus I'm not even certain what that is." Sung didn't need to eat as frequently as his band mates, so he really only ate out of necessity. He couldn't fathom the idea that someone would eat out of boredom or for enjoyment.

"Ok then, more for me." He patted the cushion next to him but Sung declined.

"I have so many questions, could we cover some of those before the game plan?"

"First, I must ask you something."

Jack set the nachos to the side nervously. Sung sensed that same fear and stress from earlier. Why was he doing that? It was probably a question for later considering his first question was overdue.

"What is your name, human?"

The tension instantaneously left his body as he answered. How was he doing that?

"Oh, it's Jack." He was back to his original position on the couch, nachos in hand.

"Simple, efficient, I like that name." His pleased nod being amplified by the pylon helmet. "You may proceed with your questions."

Jack took a pause remembering all the crazy shit he'd been through. For the first time in a while his mind felt clear.

"What's with the cone hat?"

"A pylon can be worn for many reasons; fashion, power, dominance." He paced the living room floor, cape flowing behind him.

"It sounds like you're compensating for something." Jack snickered.

"Well, when you're as cool and tall and handsome and heroic and tall as I am you don't need to. May we move on?"

"Sure, man." He stifled his laughter. Maybe that was the key to Sung's infinite confidence: straight up denial.

"Why was I blacking out so often, and what are you doing to my memories?"

"I figured if I took control of the vessel while you were unconscious you wouldn't have noticed. I had no idea that I was causing you to go unconscious. Again, I deeply apologize." He stopped in front of Jack and crossed his arms. "And as for your memory I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Seriously?" Jack stood up, almost angry Sung was treating that so casually. "Random flashbacks, almost daily amnesia, forgetting how to do basic shit? I would randomly forget how to read! You've got no explanation for that?"

Sung paused as he processed this completely new information. "Do human memories not do that?"

'How clueless is this guy?' Jack thought to himself.

"No they do not, and I would like it to stop."

"You have my word."

He sat back down, nearly choking on a chip from laugter. He needed to know if Joe was fucking with him.

"Were you fighting a lion and robot in the parking lot of a guitar center?"

Sung's smile instantly changed to an annoyed frown.

"Believe me when I tell you they deserved it."

"And with that I think I'm ready to discuss the game plan." Jack answered quickly as he put down the nachos.

"I'm gonna preface this with I have no idea how this could work but the fact that I'm even going through with this is nuts! Is this as surreal for you as it is for me?"

"Considering this is the first time I've ever taken a host and I'm completely fucking it up, I would say yes." Sung sat down next to Jack. "In case you couldn't tell I'm not used to fucking up. You can't exactly afford to when saving the universe. It's just not an option when the stakes are that high, so I don't."

"You think you have to save the universe all by yourself?"

"I'm used to handling things by myself."

Jack couldn't tell if he was downplaying his emotions or it legitimately didn't bother him.

"I mean, I would say that's kinda sad if I didn't get it." There was a key difference, however. Jack kind of liked to be alone, he didn't think he had to be. "Maybe your voice was in the back of my mind before the crash." He joked.

Sung jumped off the couch and pointed at him.

"My voice in the back of your mind, you may have something there, Jack."

Chapter Text

"Greetings, nerds. I trust no one has tried to kill anyone in my absence." Sung shot a glare at Meouch as he entered the room.

"You can fuck all the way off your damn high horse, ya piece of shit." Meouch shot back.

"Enrichment for those who want it, then." Said Sung as he set a large bag on the floor.

"It has come to my attention that I haven't been the most attentive heroic leader,"

"Ya fuckin' think?" Meouch murmured.

"So I brought various Earth items that I just thought were cool."

"There is nothing in that fucking bag that could change my mind about you, cone boy."

Sung held one of the items pinched between his thumb and index finger and tossed it to where Meouch was sitting. "Just know I'm doing my best despite your attitude, Commander."

The sealed red bag of meat landed on the table and nearly hit Meouch in the chest.

"Now we're talking!" He wildly tore into the bag and ate the contents, much to Phobos and Sung's disgust. "Even though I still think you're a stuck up, self righteous idiot with fucking oxygen for brains."

Sung turned to Phobos. "And for you my lord, I've brought something for you to study."

Was that a backhanded gag or a genuine attempt at being thoughtful? Phobos couldn't tell, but nevertheless he accepted the gift. It was a small glass container filled with a dark green wax-like substance. As he picked up the gift he noticed the pleasant smell coming from the substance. It was strangely comforting.

"You haven't even seen the best part." Sung added. He grabbed Meouch's lighter and lit the wick of the candle. "Not only does the pleasant smell get stronger once it's ignited, it also just looks nice."

Phobos simply stared in awe. He wasn't used to fire, it couldn't even happen on his home planet. Some of the old ships he saw in research books used a fuel conversion process that utilized fire, but all of the ships he'd ever piloted were advanced beyond that. He was extremely concerned the first time he saw Meouch smoking. There's absolutely no reason anyone should be inhaling fire like that, but it made him look cooler somehow. He decided not to question it, especially after Meouch growled at him for staring. Phobos grabbed his notebook and wrote Thank you as he walked into the control room. Sung was sitting at his small workbench, writing his own notes with his helmet off, but he managed to see the note out of the corner of his eye.

"No problem, friend." Sung replied sincerely.

As Phobos went to his room to stare at the candle Sung debated giving Havve Hogan his enrichment item. Sung was still disappointed in him due to the sneaking out incident. He'd been trying to fix the robot's irrational craving for violence in a variety of ways, some working better than others. Drumming was the only consistent fix. Sung couldn't necessarily blame him though, it was literally in his code. He was created for nothing but to kill. He felt like the antithesis to Sung's cause, yet Havve stayed and Sung let him stay. Were they friends? Neither of them truly understood the concept but they did get along well. They liked each other's company, they knew a lot about each other's lives, was that all it took? If Sung wanted them to be friends, he would probably need to stop trying to save Havve from his violent tendencies. Friends don't try to control each other like that, that's just mean. He took a deep sigh and got Havve's item.

Sung set a mini fridge on the ground in front of his friend. "I want you to destroy this."

Havve's eyes lit up their intense red. He grabbed the box and began ripping it apart, crushing the pieces in his metallic hands. Jack had mentioned that the small metal box in the corner of his room, that was supposed to be capable of storing food, had broken about a year prior and he kept forgetting to dispose of it. He figured there was no harm in taking it for this, even if Havve was now breaking it beyond repair. Sung could sense he was overjoyed at the carnage. Being a robot, Havve didn't feel emotions in the way Sung could read but he could emote in other ways.

This felt good, doing things for other people. To be more specific doing nice things for other people that he actually knew and saw often. There was an impersonality to his usual good deeds. The people he saved rarely knew his name, let alone enough to insult him as in depth as Meouch did. Personal connection was never on his radar, until he met Havve, and since then it's been an incredibly interesting journey. Finding out how friendship worked was fascinating to him. Jack would definitely be a crucial resource in figuring out personal connection, after all humans are social creatures. All four of them had been alone most of their journeys, but they didn't feel alone on this journey of rock and roll.

Chapter Text

Jack woke up feeling well rested, something he hadn't done in a while. Stan on the other hand was slightly hungover from the party last night. "Hey, brah." Stan opened the door, his voice sounding slightly groggy. "Feeling better about the show?" Oh right, the show. Guilt swirled into Jack's stomach at the mere mention of the concert. "I guess a little, again, I'm super sorry about missing it." "Dude, it's no prob. Get that through your nerdy little head!" His insistence didn't make the guilt completely disappear, but Jack quietly laughed at the phrasing. "Thanks." He replied sarcastically. Jack checked the status of the house as Stan drifted to his bedroom. His parents' cars were absent from the driveway and his brother was definitely out of commission. The coast was clear. "So how did enrichment time go?" Jack's hushed voice barely breaking a whisper. "It was incredibly enlightening!" Sung's voice was crystal clear in his head. It didn't feel as weird as he thought it would. "I have never felt more ascendant in my life!" "To be honest I'm feeling pretty ascended myself, it's nice to know we both had a good night." He could vaguely recall Sung's night. Sung handed out the gifts, his mini fridge got destroyed by the robot from the parking lot, and they just had a good time. He remembered the feeling more clearly than the event itself, that was the part that felt weird. "And it's also good to know I am not crazy." His eyes darted around the room as he reconsidered his statement. "Well," he laughed awkwardly thinking about the last week and a half. "Uh, I wasn't wrong. I won't say that I'm not crazy, but I wasn't missing anything the other day. So yeah, that makes sense." Day one of sharing a vessel had officially started. ......................................................................... It was a pretty uneventful day, which was probably good for the first one. Jack mostly hung around the house doing various chores that Stan was supposed to be doing, if not for his currently hungover state. He figured it was the least he could do after missing the show. Sung was actually good company during the mundane activities, often asking questions about anything and everything. It brought a sense of wonder Jack didn't think was possible while washing dishes and vacuuming the floors. "Y'know, normally chores are super boring but it's actually been kind of fun with you around." Jack said as he finished sweeping the kitchen. "Annihilating boredom is what I do best." Sung gloated for a bit. "Wait, these tasks usually inflict boredom?" His tone was much more concerned now. "Uh, yeah. It's chores." Jack replied with confusion. "How often do you have to complete them?" "Probably once a week, at least." His casual tone had Sung reeling. "Fascinating. Perhaps humans have a higher tolerance for boredom than most beings." "Maybe," He shrugged as he put the broom away and sat on the couch. "Because I probably should have taken a break an hour ago but I just wanna get this over with." "Well it's very heroic of you to protect your brother from the forces of boredom while he recovers." "I guess boredom is a little bit different on Earth. It isn't some evil force to be destroyed, it just kinda happens sometimes." Sung's silence spoke volumes like he hadn't considered that before, or he was afraid to tell his band mates. Feeling his emotions was still weird, but Jack continued. "And I mean you're not gonna kill boredom by staying hidden all the time. Why not do some busking or something?" "What is that?" "Oh, it's when you play music on the street, sometimes for money, the idea of it makes me nervous as hell." Sung considered it for a while before he answered. "Bringing amusement and joy to the masses in guerilla style warfare against boredom, it's brilliant! I will tell my band mates at once!" ......................................................................... The first show on Earth, the first time these humans would be saved from the clutches of boredom! Everything was set up and poised to dominate. Havve's drum machine and the few amps they could bring were in place, Phobos' guitar case was set just in front so that people could give them money. It was all ready, and yet Sung was terrified. It was incredibly strange. He was sweating, his stomach hurt, he wanted to bite his hands; the most confusing of the symptoms. Being in front of the small crowd that had gathered out of curiosity felt wrong somehow. The strangest part was the all-encompassing force begging him not to play. Music was the one thing that brought him joy, how could he be scared to do it? He'd never felt like this before. Regardless he had a world to save so the boys began to play. Sung could feel the crowd's reactions. There was an initial state of bewilderment but most people who saw them began to dance and have fun. There was about 15 people in the crowd but all 15 minds were blown. As the show went on Sung's nerves still persisted. It slightly dissipated as the set progressed but it was still overwhelmingly present. Seeing how much fun his band mates were having helped it dissipate. Meouch was feeling the happiest he'd been since they crash landed, every riff and lick filled with passion and joy. Phobos was nervous at first due to the oxygen levels and general atmosphere, so he wore his helmet outside the ship as a precaution, but even through his metallic silicone mask Sung knew he was having a blast. Havve was executing each beat perfectly but there was an energy to his playing he hadn't seen in a while. It's as if the crowd was supplying him with the resolve to keep playing, as if he liked entertaining them. It was the most fun they'd ever had on this planet. This was truly special. The energy slowly faded as the night went on. Coming down from the high of performing was never an issue for Sung, but today he felt a massive weight off his shoulders. He was playing music with his friends all night, something that never scared him before. Why was he scared now? "Are you gonna help us, fearless leader?" Meouch's sarcastic remark snapped him out of his daze. "Of course I will, I'm just lost in thought I guess." He still wasn't completely focused on the task at hand. The question was a dark presence in his mind over the otherwise cheerful cleanup. He racked his brain for what could've caused the unprecedented negative emotions, until suddenly he remembered what the human had said. "the idea of it makes me nervous as hell." It was him. ......................................................................... Jack came to in his bedroom. It sucked but at least he knew why he was blacked out at all. His bedroom window was open all the way, letting in the cool summer air. "Please remember close my window, man." Jack complained, assuming Sung was back in his head. "Who are you talking to?" He jumped at the sound of Stan's voice, he looked significantly better than this morning. Jack forgot that he was essentially talking to himself. "Oh, um..." It was best to be at least semi honest, right? "I'm just mumbling to myself, so I don't forget anything." Stan looked a bit confused but overall he didn't suspect a thing. "Well if it works, bud." He did a double take as he was about to leave the room. "Speaking of forgetting stuff where's your fridge?" Stan asked. "I finally threw it out." There was a pride to his semi lie. It was kind of thrilling living this weird double life. "Good for you. Night, brah." "Night, brah." He climbed into bed feeling completely normal for a change. Day one of sharing a vessel went off without a hitch, so far Jack was able to live his life and Sung was able to live his. There was still the blacking out part that he didn't care for at all, but he could talk to Sung about that in the morning. For right now he was optimistic about his secret double life and content to sleep thinking about what could be in store. He couldn't sleep however because Sung was right next to his face, glaring at him with deadly serious eyes. Jack flinched so hard he nearly fell out of bed. "What the fuck, man!" Though frightened at Sung's unmasked form, Jack still kept a hushed tone. "In the nicest way possible, what have you done to me, human?"

Chapter Text

Sung stood menacingly above his bed like a sleep paralysis demon. He looked slightly uncanny, his face completely visible for the first time since they'd met. His eye sockets were dark voids with a white slit in place of a sclera, his ears were slightly bigger and pointed upwards. Jack quickly acclimated himself with Sung's inhuman features as he noticed similarities between them. Slim figure, messy brown hair, Sung was kind of right about them looking alike. That wasn't important right now but he'd noticed nonetheless.

"What do you mean 'what have I done to you'? You were the one giving me amnesia!" He couldn't believe Sung had the nerve to ask him that. Although, to be fair, it was Sung's first time sharing a vessel too.

"And did you look like that the whole time?" He added.

"Yes, of course I have!" Sung shouted, completely exasperated, like Jack was the first night he experienced possession symptoms. "And what I mean is you somehow made me nervous while we were busking tonight! How? Why?"

"Dude, I get nervous doing most things." Jack defensively retorted. "I'm just pretty good at hiding it."

"Doth my nubs bequeath me? You never brought that up when we discussed the game plan!" His audacity stained every word as he pointed at Jack.

"I didn't think it'd be a problem!"

While trying to recall exactly what was discussed that night, Jack suddenly remembered a crucial detail he hadn't thought about since it happened.

"And while we're on shit we never brought up on game plan night did you ever actually get my notebook pages back from Stan?"

"What notebook pages?" Sung asked innocently.

Jack took a deep breath upon hearing the careless response. Freaking out would not help right now.

"The pages with my song in it! Y'know the one with the stupid title?" Sung still looked clueless.

"The thing you gave to my brother, like the day after you possessed me?"

Sung made a low humming sound like he was trying to remember it.

"Strange, it's not coming to me, perhaps you need to be a bit more specific."

Was he messing with him? He couldn't have forgotten about that so easily, considering how eager he was to show it to Stan in the first place.

"Maybe it's 'stupid title' will jog my memory. What was it called again?" Sung's eyes darted around the room, trying not to give away his intentions.

"Dude, you know exactly what I'm talking about. Just tell me what you did with it."

"Must I repeat myself further? I told you I have no clue! I'm going to need more information than that." His laughter made Jack even more suspicious, but it was equally likely Sung just forgot. After all his memory was naturally garbage. Jack's cheeks turned a slight red as he let out a long sigh, knowing he'd have to play along and utter the embarrassing title.

"It's the one with the synthesizer bass line, one actual lyric, there's like a million layers to it, there's that break in the middle for a small drum solo..."

He'd walked right into it. Sung was eagerly waiting, his hand crudely covering up a sly smile. There was no turning back now.

"It's called 'The No Pants Dance'."

"Thank you!" Said Sung, grinning with pride as he retrieved the papers from under Jack's bed. "Of course I got it back after I realized you were unhappy with it, but I must admit the shame at such a fun track is uncalled for and confusing to say the least."

Jack snatched it from Sung's fingerless gloves and safely returned them to one out of a pile of notebooks he had scattered across his desk.

"Getting back on track, maybe if I wasn't blacked out I wouldn't be subconsciously giving you second hand anxiety."

"And what do you suppose we do about that?" Sung asked, not so subtlety eyeing the stack of notebooks. Jack immediately leaned against the desk, effectively blocking Sung's view and hopefully curtailing his fascination.

"Couldn't we just do what we did today but in reverse? Like, I could be in your head while you have the vessel?"

Sung was very apprehensive about the suggestion.

"I'm unsure. Humans are quite fragile and I wouldn't want to inadvertently harm you in any unforseen way."

Even though Sung was just being considerate, he didn't like to be referred to as fragile.

"However, I have underestimated you before. I didn't think you'd be able to handle consciously sharing the vessel today, and you somehow gave me prolonged fear during our performance." Sung was thinking out loud at this point, weighing the options and evidence. It was looking more possible by the second.

"We might just be able to do that."

At that moment they both realized the game plan wasn't as thorough as it should've been. Due to their general inexperience with each other and their particular situation, they hadn't actually made a full plan. Neither of them knew what to do, so even though it slightly terrified Jack, they were content to throw ideas at the wall and see what stuck.

.........................................................................

It was hard to describe. He saw everything through Sung's eyes, all three of them. It felt like he was having a really vivid dream. The kind of dream you have no control over, yet you're still aware that it's a dream. It was completely surreal being a passenger in his own body.

"Where are we headed again?" Jack asked, unsure how he did because he didn't have access to his mouth at the moment.

"To the High Top Express, my personal spaceship." Was this the same ship that crashed into the woods, or had he gotten another ship here? He figured it was the crashed ship. If Sung had gotten a functional space ship here, it would have made national news.

"It's been through hell and back, but it's never been out of commission for long, which is honestly pretty shocking considering that incident on the Communitas."

Jack shuddered thinking of what he could have possibly meant by that, but the fear was quickly replaced with confusion as to how he shuddered. He saw a light in the distance, growing brighter and brighter as Sung walked through the forest. He recognized it as the ship as they approached it. It was less on fire than it was the last time he saw it. They'd obviously been fixing it since the crash-land. Sung stopped in front of the hatch like door as he grabbed the handle.

"Are you sure about this, human?" Sung asked cautiously.

"For the millionth time, my name is Jack" he paused before answering the question. Was he? He was never really sure about anything, about his songs, about his nerves, about his life. Strangely, he didn't feel like that right now. There was more than the nerves now. There were exciting possibilities, new adventures to be had, and a familiar core of optimism. For the first time in his life, he was ready.

"I don't think I've ever been more sure."

Chapter Text

The ship was much bigger on the inside than it looked. The systems and control panels each had multicolored lights on their displays meaning one thing or another. They lit up the dark corridor like strings of Christmas lights or the pathway lights in Jack's front yard. Watching Sung walk through the dreamily lit hallway was almost like watching a movie, and he was content to sit back and enjoy the show, whatever may come next.

Sung abruptly stopped, his eyes darting around the area. He was scanning intensely for something, or someone. So much for enjoying the show. "I can sense him." Sung's hushed tone instantly making Jack uneasy. There was an uninhibited aura of anticipation and devilry permeating the ship that Sung couldn't place. He could guess who was the cause of it, but the reason why escaped him.

"Who? What's happening?" Jack replied. Paralyzed by concentration, Sung didn't answer. "You're totally freaking me out, man!"

Out of the corner of Sung's eye he saw faint smoke leak out of the cockpit. The door was slightly ajar and he could see a fiery glow emanating from the room. "Dude, I think your ship's on fire!" Jack screamed, managing to alert Sung through his intense focus. They rushed to the cockpit and flung the door, open only to be assaulted with a ear splitting roar and a barrage of traffic cones directly to the face. Jack was incredibly grateful he wasn't using the vessel, he couldn't feel the attack at all. He began to wonder if he would feel it later, that would definitely suck. The lion man towered over Sung, his dark, wild mane making him look even bigger. He dug his claws into the metallic wall to regain his balance. "I can't fuckin believe it!" His voice had a deep growl to it, even through the laughter. "You fell for it! You stupid son of a bitch!" Sung was unamused to say the least, even though Jack was also cracking up. "I expected better of you, Commander." Was that his name or his title? He didn't look the part, at least by Earth standards. Black combat boots and fingerless gloves didn't exactly give off the prestige of a commander. His multi-pocketed vest and rusted silver armor was especially well-worn. Jack thought all of it was absolutely badass. "Oh great, now you sound like Phobos!" Exclaimed Sung, seemingly in response to Jack's admiration towards his prankster assailant. The man he was referring to was hiding in the doorway of what looked like his living quarters, his platinum blonde hair peeking out from behind the doorframe. He was the most alien looking of the bunch, with bright green skin, pointed ears that were much bigger than Sung's, and glowing white eyes. He approached Sung, anxiously writing something in a small notepad.

I have some bad news, sir.

"Oh? What is it this time?" Sung sounded more dispirited than angry as he took another page out of the man's hand. The note read like a status report;

Whilst trying to fix the engine room I found that the ship's hyperdrive had been badly damaged upon initial impact. Even if we could repair it there isn't enough energy on this planet to make it function properly. So in other words, we're stranded here for the foreseeable future.

A deep sigh exited Sung's mouth. "That is quite unfortunate. Good work anyway, Phobos." He shot a glare at Meouch. "At least someone's being productive." "At least someone's not a self righteous douchebag most of the time." He shot back. "Oh wait!" Sung pointed to his head. "I'll have you know my host isn't unconscious today so we could do with some decency, Meouch!" After snickering at the simple comedy in a lion named Meouch, Jack began to worry. Why did Sung bring him up? Without missing a beat Meouch smacked his helmet so hard it nearly fell off. "So, why don't we meet the poor sucker? Sharing a mind with you has gotta be it's own form of torture." Jack was confused and slightly terrified of what that suggestion could lead to. "Well, why don't we? He'll vouch for me, I'm certain of it!" "Dude, what are you talking about?" Before Sung could hear Jack's nervous protest it was too late. In a flash Jack was instantaneously standing next to Sung, fully perceived by everyone in the room. "You never told me you could do this!" Jack screamed, white hot annoyance replacing his nerves. "You never brought this up on game plan night!" Sung was unusually unfazed by his complaints. "You keep being surprised when I forget to tell you things. Stop doing that." ......................................................................... What proceeded was an exhilarating blur. The rest of the night flew by in what felt like a second. They spent it getting acquainted with each other, jamming out, talking about space, and just being nerds. Formally meeting the robot from the parking lot, or Havve Hogan as he learned his name was, was the strangest highlight of the night. He made soft whirring sounds when he walked, it was much more fluid than he'd expected from a robot. Seeing him clearly was kind of spooky, he was consistently blurry in the 'photographic evidence' shown on the news. All anyone could make out was a pair of glowing red eyes, which we're usually dismissed as laser pointers. "This guy was made to be a cryptid." Jack remembered saying. He especially enjoyed watching Meouch poking fun at Sung. His mindful intelligence replaced by wild rage at the slightest insult, it was hilarious to Jack. Hanging out with the band was the most fun Jack ever had. He never felt awkward or like he didn't belong. He he and Phobos had that in common. Being with a band so literally out of this world and as crazy as TWRP is, broke down his usual barriers with social interaction. He was free to throw his inhibitions to the wind and be fun and creative. He didn't want to leave. He wanted this to be his life, forever. ......................................................................... Sung quickly climbed the chain link fence, vaulted himself onto a stretch of roof, and crawled into a window on the second floor. His high tops made a slight squeak as he darted down the hallway, desperate to make it back to Jack's room before anyone woke up. "Hey, bro." Sung gasped at the sound of Stone's voice. He turned around to see him standing menacingly at the top of the stairs, coffee cup in hand. "Whatcha doing there, bud?" Sung and Jack scrambled to come up with an answer. "I wanted to see if this costume I bought fit, but I didn't want anyone to see me in it. Nothing to see here Stone, I mean Stan!" Though Sung was nowhere near convincing, he was satisfied with himself. "Quite the explanation, Mr. Sung." Stan sauntered to his room, his eyes glued to the traffic cone sporting weirdo standing in the hallway. "Wanna tell me what's really goin on?"

Chapter Text

It felt like a police interrogation. The dining room chandelier was suddenly too bright, the wooden chair suddenly uncomfortable, and his brother's glances from across the table made Jack increasingly sweaty. That or it was too hot for the long sleeve he usually wore under his graphic tees. It also didn't help that Sung, who kept insisting he'd had everything under control, wouldn't stop frantically rambling.
"How was I supposed to know he would be up this early? I've used that window countless times and no one is ever there! I mean, you never wake up until well after the sun has risen! And come on, it's DOCTOR Sung! How could he get that wrong? How do you think he found out? Aren't you going to answer me?"
Jack couldn't answer him. He was the only one who could hear Sung's annoying voice, and he wasn't going to look more insane than he did that morning.
"Well," An exaggerated pause solidifying his annoyance. "I guess I'll just go fuck myself then!"
Slightly less nervous than before Jack began the conversation.
"How did you know?"
"Well, I started getting suspicious when you kept calling me Stone for some reason." How long had Sung been doing that? Come to think of it he'd never said his brother's name correctly. He seriously wondered if it was by choice.
"Yeah, he can't pronounce anything right." As he rolled his eyes he could feel Sung getting offended. He couldn't help but laugh.
"And I was convinced when I saw you in that spandex while you were gone for days."
Jack's heart practically jumped into his throat. "Days?"
"Yep. You were gone all weekend."
It only felt like a night. How had a whole weekend passed? He put his head in his hands trying to comprehend how much trouble he'd be in. He couldn't even imagine how worried his parents were.
"Can I explain myself before you turn me in to mom and dad?"
Stan quietly exhaled what sounded like a laugh. "Sure."
"All this bullshit started when I left Andy's party. While I was walking home I saw this huge shooting star and I decided to follow it."
"Why did you follow it?"
"I thought it was cool, I guess."
"Alright then, continue." He shrugged.
Retelling all of this felt like trying to remember a lucid dream. A dream he'd just made sense of himself.
"Turns out it wasn't a shooting star, it was actually a spaceship," Thinking back to that moment, knowing everything he'd learned since, it put a lot of what happened into context. "And I think when I walked up to it and Sung opened the door he took control of the vessel for the first time, which caused me to black out."
Stan paused, trying to figure out what that could've meant. "You lost me, pal."
"Oh shit, sorry. I'm just trying to find a way to phrase what happened next that doesn't sound bad."
"It sounds like you got possessed."
"See that's what I didn't want to say." Jack had gotten used to referring to his body as 'the vessel', but possession still sounded super creepy.
"So, what happened next?"
"After a couple nights of weird dreams I woke up wearing that costume." He felt Sung's usual irritation when people called it a costume. 'It's obviously armor. Very tough, very cool, very tall armor.' He would say.
"That's when I decided to tell you about it."
"Oh yeah, I was worried about you, man." Stan patted his little brother on the shoulder. "I'm not looking to judge, I just want to know what the hell happend."
"Fair enough." Jack sighed.
"I think that night was the first time you called me Stone."

It was, and it was confusing to Stan at first. He thought his brother had already gone to bed until he heard repetitive knocking on his bedroom door.
"Hey, ...bro!" The words sounded unsure, like it was the first time he'd said the word 'bro'. "Where are the pages of genius I gave you? I- I want them back for some reason."
Stan assumed he was being sarcastic about the genius comment, so he laughed off the other strange things.
"Sure, pal. I'll drop off your genius musical endeavor in the morning." He replied half asleep.
"Thank you, brother Stone!"

'Holy shit, could Sung have been more obvious?' Jack thought.
"I thought you were trying something new," he chuckled "I didn't think too hard about it."
"That's one way to put it."
"I didn't believe the alien thing until there was that whole parking lot alien fight. I knew you wouldn'tve been interested if you didn't believe it."
"I still have no idea what that was about." Jack whispered to himself. "Anyway, my personality started to fuse with his and I started going crazy." Thinking back to his extroverted outbursts made him facepalm, he must've looked like a total freak.
"More than just your personality went nuts, man. You carried your entire drum kit to the van in one go! That's pretty damn cool."
"Thanks, I guess." He shrugged. "He's the reason I missed the concert. All day I kept blacking out and having super intense flashbacks, I was fucking phasing out of my skin or something."
Stan knew what he was referring to. His brother was especially anxious during the soundcheck, playing faster and faster, fervently shaking with either terror or excitement, then a sudden stop. He saw Jack frantically wiping beads of sweat dripping down his face as his drumsticks hit the ground. It was the most scared he'd been for his brother in a long time.
"Then, I blacked out and woke up at home. I felt so bad about it he confessed right then and there."
"The alien?"
"Yup. I'll spare you the monologue I got from him and say he can't be on Earth because of the atmosphere, so he's been using me as a host because we look similar, and his name is Doctor Sung,"
"Doctor? What is he a doctor of?"
He paused, realizing he'd never thought to ask that before. He'd wondered if the lion commander was legit before he asked the being he was literally sharing a body with.
"Good question. What are you a doctor of?"
Stan watched as his brother went silent, waiting for an answer from the alien.
"Dude, that's not an answer."
More silence.
"I never told you to go fuck yourself. I just didn't wanna talk to you in front of my brother but he had a question so..."
More silence.
"Whatever, man. I'll tell him that." He looked back at an extremely confused Stan. "He said he's a doctor of vibes and high kicks and it's very nice to see you again."
"Oh, tell him it's nice to see him again too. You guys totally rocked the other night." Stan's doubts and fears about his brother's alien possessor slowly dissipated as he watched the conversation unfold. From what he'd seen this guy was just as much of a dork as Jack.
"Wait, the other night? What other night?"
"The first night you didn't come home. How often does this guy make you forget stuff?"
"All the fucking time. So even what happened?"
.........................................................................

It had been hours since Jack had left the house. He said was going on a walk and he was never out by himself for longer than half an hour. Stan didn't think there was anything to worry about at first, but now he was searching the streets for his little brother like his life depended on it. He checked all the likely spots; the gas station, the comic book store, the dog park, the community college he went to, his band mate's houses, the various music shops they would browse, and still he had nothing. He wasn't even answering his phone calls. The possibility that Jack was hurt or worse was too terrifying to genuinely consider, so he kept looking. While walking near a street corner SeX-rays considered busking on he heard a faint drum solo, followed by the sound of his brother laughing. He raced toward the source of the music, relief washing over him. Jack was okay, he was okay and alive and laughing! Stan's worst fears faded to the back of his mind as he got to the scene, and as luck would have it there was his little brother, playing a keytar and laughing with a cone on his head. It was a strange sight up to be sure, four costumed weirdos playing eighties music slightly too loud at ten o clock at night. They looked similar to the descriptions of the alien sightings, a tall man with a lion's head, a black and white robot with glowing red eyes, and a short, caped man wearing a traffic cone. He'd already accepted that they were actual aliens, his main concern was what they wanted with Jack. While they set up for the next song Stan approached the cone man.
"Stone! I'm slightly worried and mostly ecstatic that you're here!" He was practically vibrating with excitement.
"Jack, I've been worried sick! I haven't seen or heard from you for hours! Where have you been?"
His smile faded as he pulled Stan to away from the band to talk more privately.
"I assure you I am perfectly safe and I'm truly sorry for making you worry." His words had a genuine empathetic tone to them, as if he felt exactly what Stan was feeling. "I was afraid of what you'd think if you knew about this."
"What I'd think about what exactly?"
"All of this, I suppose. Performing while dressed as strange as this is extremely unlike me. I was afraid you'd be as embarrassed of me as I was."
"Why?"
"I have no clue, you're a very kind person. I don't know why I was so scared."
They both laughed as one of the band mates, the only one Stan didn't recognize, gestured for Jack to get back in front of the microphone. Before he left Stan gave him a tight hug, it seemed to confuse his brother more than anything.
"I'm just happy you're safe, Jack."
"Splendid." He said, sounding unsure of how to respond. "And it's Doctor Sung when I look like this."
"Ooh, kickass stage name, brah! I'll let you do your thing."

Stan ended up staying for the entire set, or more accurately until the cops came by to shut them down. It was amazing to watch him play. His little brother, who usually couldn't step in front of a microphone without stuttering or biting his nails, was dancing and playing without a care. Maybe it was the silliness of it all that got him to come out of his shell. Whatever it was he looked happier than he ever did behind a drum set, and Stan couldn'tve been prouder.
.........................................................................
"And afterwards you said you were going back with the band so I headed home and told mom and dad you were staying with some new friends from school."
Jack stared in total shock, attempting to comprehend everything he'd just heard. Sung spilled his guts, guts that weren't his to spill, without him even remembering. To be fair Jack probably never would've said any of that on his own, even though he'd been meaning to. Sharing a body with someone who could perfectly articulate emotions was kind of a nightmare. A very helpful nightmare, but a nightmare nonetheless.
"Yeah, that sounds about right." He said standing up and pushing in his chair. "Now if you'll excuse me I'm going to go to my room, lie down and never move."
"Alright." Stan stood and hugged his brother's shoulders. "Love ya, brother."
"Later, dude."
As he walked away Stan heard him murmur "Now I'm telling you to go fuck yourself."
Silence
"I'm being sarcastic, I think."

Chapter Text

The kitchen was an absolute mess. Spaghetti noodles were sprawled across the counters and stuck to cupboards, marinara sauce was splattered and dripping down the walls, and glass dishware lay shattered on the tile floor. Stan was speechless as he took in the scene.
"What the fuck?" He muttered to himself.
Immediately his brother ran into the room holding the small trash can from his bedroom, a broom, a vacuum, and a rack from their dishwasher.
"Greetings, Stone."
Taken aback by the fact his brother had more eyes than usual, he nearly fell into the mess.
"Ah, the initial state of bewilderment. How rude of me not to explain. Sorry about this, you know how it is with spaghetti."
Sung could feel Jack's burning embarrassment.
"No, I do not." Stan replied.

They spent the next few hours cleaning up the carnage Sung had caused. It mostly consisted of Stan teaching the alien what each cleaning tool did and watching him pick it up in seconds. He could go from completely clueless to mastering skills faster than humanly possible, which made sense. He was intrigued by him as much as Sung was intrigued by Stan. Sung didn't sense that low pulse of fear Jack was familiar with. Instead he was calm, followed by confused, then amused, then back to calm again. That was the usual cycle that happened whenever Sung could read him. He knew he was the cause of it. There was an initial state of confusion when anyone met him, what followed was either happiness and excitement or unchanging confusion. Sung learned not to care about what was felt beyond that, but this whole endeavor made him question things he wasn't used to questioning.

"So I guess we're going out to eat after we clean all this shit?" Stan turned to him and set the broom against the wall. "Cause I don't wanna create another mess to clean."
Sung looked up from scrubbing the counter and tilted his head.
"I'm not entirely sure what that means but I assure you, I do not need food. I was making it for you as a peace offering of sorts."
"You wrecked the kitchen as a peace offering?" He chuckled.
"Not intentionally!"
Stan's eyes went wide witnessing the instantaneous change in demeanor. The room went silent, an awkward energy filling the space between the boys. Sung retracted his outburst and cleared his throat.
"I apologize," He sheepishly bowed his head and reached for the sponge. "I've been feeling extremely cramdangled as of late. I'm not used to fucking up."
Stan patted him on the shoulder, which was met with a light flinch.
"It's all good, brah. It happens."
'It happens.' Sung mulled over the casual affirmation as he cleaned. 'Does it? An unprompted outburst of negative emotions forgiven in an instant because "it happens", just like that?' It puzzled him to say the least. He needed to know if this mindset was strictly a human attribute, and what better way to find out than to ask some humans himself.
.........................................................................

The boys heard a low rumble coming towards the house. Stan looked out the window to see a dark blue sedan pulling into the driveway.
"Thank god!" He let out a sigh of relief looking over the finally clean kitchen.
"I already called the boys and let them know about the dinner plans. Andy should be off work by the time we get there, hopefully his manager gave him more coupons."
"Splendid, I will take the necessary precautions to blend in with your species." Sung dashed up the steps at inhuman speeds.

The door to the garage clicked open and in walked his parents, engrossed in their own conversation, completely unaware that anything had happened to their kitchen.
"I'm just saying, Ally, our boy's finally getting out there! He's making friends, staying out late, getting into trouble. This is a good thing for him."
"I know, I know but does he have to get into trouble? Would it kill him to run it by us first?"
Stan felt a strange deja vu overhearing the disagreement. They'd said the exact same things when he started performing with SeX-rays. He knew Jack would have to deal with this eventually.
"He just disappeared out of the blue, Curt! That's not like him!" She sighed as she set her bulky purse on the counter. "I can't shake the feeling something weird is going on."
While trying to come up with something to soothe his nervous wife, Curt saw his oldest son discreetly watching their conversation.
"Oh. Hi, Stanley." He said with a small wave.
Ally jumped at his sudden presence.
"I was wondering when you were gonna notice." He snickered.
She scanned the room, her dirty blonde hair swaying as she looked. "Where's Jack-jack?"
"How am I supposed to know, the guy's like four inches tall."
Curt let out a hearty laugh and rustled his son's hair. "Hey, don't let your brother hear you joking like that!"
He couldn't help himself. If he were at the risk of offending Jack he wouldn'tve joked like that, but Sung seemed easier and more fun to piss off. His assumption turned out to be correct because as Stan was informing his parents about the dinner plans they'd made, Sung came crashing down the stairs.
"How dare you!" He defiantly pointed from his place on the floor. "I have been growing!"
"Oh my gosh! Are you okay, sweetie?" Ally quickly pulled him of the floor and hugged him tightly. Sung, not used to this kind of physical affection, attempted to squirm free from her grasp.
"I assure you that I am perfectly safe." He said gasping for air once released. "I've survived far worse."
"I don’t want you to survive far worse, I want you to be more careful."
"You feeling okay, bud?" Curt looked over the strange accessories. "Sunglasses at night?"
Sung had put together a decent enough disguise. The bright orange sunglasses he'd picked were dark enough that they couldn't see his eyes at all. A dark green knit hat covered up the eye on his forehead perfectly, as well as hid the pointed tips of his ears.
"Can't a guy want to look good?" Stan chimed in.
"I'm not sure if this is looking good but maybe I'm just old." He shrugged.
Before Sung could say anything that might give him away Stan grabbed his arm and dragged him out the door.
"Well, we should be going. We're taking our bikes. Bye!"
Ally scooped up her sons for a quick hug before they left.
"Have fun, boys! Call me when you get there."
"We will."
"Release me!"
.........................................................................

The restaurant was well within biking distance and they made pretty good time, despite Sung never riding a bike before. He was fast enough to keep up on foot so, while Stan rode his bike Sung ran beside him, holding the bike handlebars as he ran. As they made their way to the restaurant Sung tried to outline the facets of his experiment. He would observe the band during dinner and take note of any interesting data, but that was where it stopped. He couldn't plan, he couldn't think, he couldn't form any hypotheses. He was caught in the moment. The sound of the bike tires on the pavement, the crisp cool breeze, the sky fading from pink to a deep blue and the stars peeking through the sunset. He felt happy. There was so much happening, and yet nothing at all. The stillness was comforting, but that shouldn't be possible. Sung's research had proven it countless times; still means nothing, nothing means boredom, boredom means death. He never let his mind be still for long. There was always something to figure out, someone to save, and that was no different now. Perhaps it was Jack's emotions influencing his, but Sung had never thought of how amazing it is that he was alive.

"It should be down this way. How are you holding up back there?"
Stan's voice pulled him out of his thoughts.
"Delicious, absolutely splendid." He said absentmindedly.
"I've got one rule for tonight, don't make it too obvious your not my brother."
"I will certainly try."

They stopped in front of a two story brick building with a spacious patio seating area. Above the patio were strings of lights shining a warm glow onto the metal chairs. At one of the tables were Andy and Joe, waving them over. Andy had taken off his black tie and wore a hoodie over his white dress shirt. Joe had propped up his skateboard against his chair to keep it from rolling away and was looking over the menu.

"Hey, man." Andy fist bumped Stan as he sat down. "So, what happened at your house?"
"Jack was trying to make dinner and he kinda fucked it up. Thought I'd take him out to make him feel better. He's over there locking up the bikes now."
Joe snickered under his breath. "Of course he is."
"Transport secured, Stone." Sung sat at the table, quite proud that he figured out the bike lock.
Joe rolled his eyes.
"So you're making everyone dinner and locking up both the bikes, wow. You're so cool."
Sung instantly sensed the sarcasm in his voice. It was very... Meouch like.
"Well then, I shall go fuck myself!"
The table burst into laughter, with Andy nearly choking on his water.
"Damn, dork, where'd you get the balls?" He said through violent coughing.
"Can we stay on topic for more than five seconds?" Stan laughed.
"Not usually."
"What are we getting to eat?"
"Your brother's vegetarian, right?" Joe scanned over the menu, briefly glancing towards Sung. "He could have the chef's salad or something."
"Chef's salad?" Stan asked, slightly tilting his head. "I don't even know what that is."
A few moments of thinking among the boys was interrupted by Sung confidently proclaiming "I know". He, in fact did not know. He just liked feeling smarter than he really was. Stan glanced in his band mate's direction as if to say 'watch this' and handed the alien a menu.
"Is it made from real chefs?"
"Absolutely." He replied, looking over a menu he couldn't read. "It's made from chef's eggs."
The older boys quietly snickered at his ridiculous claim. They knew Jack to be a bit fragile when it came to group settings, so when they did laugh at him they made sure to do it as silently as possible.
"First joke of the evening huh, kid?" Joe casually said, taking a sip of his water.
"No doubt his last." Said Andy in a hushed tone. "You know how he is."

Sung took note of the entire interaction. People sparing his feelings wasn't a common occurrence, especially among his band mates. He was fully immersed and ready to learn, his findings would certainly help the boys on their musical quest.
'I wouldn't even be in this incredibly informative position without Stone. He's been immensely helpful today.' Sung thought. 'I think I'd like to have a brother Stone.'

Chapter Text

Phobos stared off the balcony and took a deep breath. Looking down at the pristine golden skyscrapers made him dizzy for a multitude of reasons. The most prominent one being the fact his coronation was fast approaching. He felt nowhere near qualified, yet the deadline loomed over his head like a sword. He didn't want to rule, he didn't want to do anything. He wanted to play guitar all day, if that was even an option, which it most definitely was not. He wanted to run away, or rather fly away. His jetpack was tightly strapped to his chest, his helmet securely fastened and air locked, but would it be enough? Falling off the balcony was equally as likely as finding somewhere out there. The idea of plummeting to his death made him almost as dizzy. All it took was one jump and...
"What are you doing?"
His bedroom light flickered on as he saw a familiar silhouette in the doorway.
"Deimos!" He suddenly realized how shaky his hands were. He climbed down from the railing and ran to his brother. "I didn't hear you come in!"
"Answer the question, Phobos." His attempt to hide his nervous panic clearly wasn't working, Deimos could see right through him.
"I just thought I'd go for a late night fly to clear my head."
"Mum and Dad made it explicitly clear you're not to leave the palace until.."
"I know! I know!" He interrupted. "I wasn't actually going to do it, obviously."
Deimos sighed as he took off his brother's helmet. Though they looked practically identical, the twins' similarities stopped there.
"I understand this is causing you stress, but running away isn't going to solve anything."
"Then what is?" Phobos pleaded. "And don't say-!"
"Just getting it over with. Taking the throne is going to solve this."
Phobos groaned at the mere suggestion. That was all Deimos ever seemed to say and it was getting irritating.
"Have you considered that I don't want to take the throne?"
"Do you?"
"No!" He said, his voice heavy with anxiety. "I feel like I don't have a choice, and even if I did I have no idea what I'd do instead."
Deimos paused for a moment considered what he'd said.
"Have you told anyone else this?" He asked, his tone much softer now.
"No," Phobos retorted. "And if you're so curious why don't you take the throne?"
Deimos released a long sigh.
"It's late. I want you to get some rest and bring this up with father in the morning."
"What if I don't want to because that's a horrible idea?"
Deimos stopped halfway out the door and turned off the light.
"Then I hope you're ready for coronation day, King Phobos."
.........................................................................

Phobos woke up in a cold sweat, the soft whirring of the ship grounding him. That disagreement replayed over and over again in his mind. Of course it would eventually infect his dreams. If he'd known that everyone would be dead soon he wouldn't have fought Deimos so harshly. He would have told his father he wasn't ready. In actuality he probably would have jumped off the balcony. What would Deimos think if he could see him now? The questions were too much to bear, so he didn't entertain them for long.

He walked out of his room and was met with a familiar scene. Havve was running diagnostics on the ship's various systems, and punching the nearest wall when the results showed errors. Meouch was passed out in a chair, beer bottle in hand.
'How pathetic.' Phobos thought.
The drunken animal in front of him had carelessly left the hull in a mess of food wrappers and glass bottles. He simply lay there in an intoxicated stuper, pathetic. A small part of Phobos envied him. His careless attitude was cool in a way. The way he was tough, slick and ready for anything was truly remarkable. It saved his life countless times, Phobos couldn't help but admire him. His feelings were confusing to say the least. Looking out the window at the sky fading from pink to a deep blue, he couldn't help recalling what he'd said that one night. The night Meouch was beyond shocked when he found out Phobos had "narced".

"You're never gonna do anything if you keep pulling shit like this. You might as well have stayed stranded."

He was right. That bastard was actually right. Phobos couldn't stand it. The idea burned a hole inside him, urging him to prove him wrong.
'Why don't I just sneak out?' Phobos thought. 'In fact I'm sure I could do it without getting caught, unlike someone!' He shot a silent glare at the unconscious lion.
'All I'd need is a disguise of some sort.'
He was not about to restart the alien rumors. Most of their audience believed it was a publicity stunt for their "costume band" which was absolutely ridiculous to the boys, but it was a decent enough cover.
Out of the corner of his eye he spotted the solution to his problem. On the floor of Sung's room was a pile of clothes left by his human host. The pile consisted of a long, thin shirt with the letters 'N A S A' in the center, damaged pants made of a coarse black fabric, and a pair of monochrome boots engraved with the word 'converse'. It might have looked strange to Phobos but he'd seen humans wearing similar things at their street side shows. He had his disguise. He put on his helmet and looked at his reflection in the tinted windshield of the ship. The martian looked surprisingly human, more human than Meouch could ever look anyway. He quickly grabbed his notepad and reached for the hatch door. His heart pounded from a mixture of terror and excitement. Before turning the handle he took one last look at Meouch, who hadn't moved at all.
'You better not narc on me.'
He stepped out onto the frigid forest floor and gently closed the hatch behind him.
.........................................................................

As he walked down the street he took in the sights of this unfamiliar planet. Earth in the year 2007, Sung was right about it being pretty depressing. Phobos had heard of Earth before. He knew that it was where his guitar was invented, that humans were the local species, and that it was a barren wasteland. He didn't expect this much stuff to be there, but it was all fascinating. He caught the attention of a few humans but for the most part he blended in nicely. Some humans recognized him from their busking, most ignored him, but a few were extremely off put by him. One old man felt the need to actively stop the young child he was with from complimenting Phobos' helmet.
"Why can't I tell him he looks cool, grandpa?" He innocently asked.
"Because those people are freaks and we don't talk to them."
'Freaks? That seems a bit much.' Phobos rolled his eyes under his helmet.
Suddenly he spotted a group of people that were regulars during their busking. He followed the crowd to a gathering of humans that looked around Jack's age. They were set up at tables along the sidewalk, chatting with adults near large concrete buildings, and lined up next to a long display of snack food. A colorful hand drawn banner was at the entrance of the event. It read: "HMCC SUMMER SOCIAL & CLUB FAIR" in giant glittery letters. Phobos didn't have the slightest idea what those words meant in this context, but he went in regardless.
As he took in the energy of this place one booth called to him.
"Hi! Would you be interested in taking sign language next semester?" A blonde girl handed him a pamphlet presumably about whatever she was referring to. Phobos shrugged and leafed through it. It had several pictures of people using hand gestures to speak to one another.
'Intriguing, if I learned this I wouldn't have to carry a notepad the rest of my life!'
He pulled out his notepad to ask the girl a question, but he was stuck on how to phrase it.
"Are you waiting for me to give you the whole spiel so you can take notes?" She giggled, breaking the awkward silence.
Phobos quickly shook his head and wrote a reply.
It's not that. I can't speak at the moment. Would this help me with my predicament?
"Oh no, I'm so sorry to hear that."
Her sympathy made him feel worse somehow.
"But yeah. There's a ton of practical uses for sign language."
Please continue with your explanation then. I'm honestly fascinated.

Chapter Text

August 7th, 2007
It's been forever since I've used this thing. I honestly thought I threw it out. Mom bought me this notebook assuming I'd use it for songs and feelings or shit like that. Instead I found my old angsty poetry and a bunch of dick drawings. Why did I expect nothing less? Anyway, Sung is probably the reason I’m writing this down. He seems like the type of nerd to journal. Speaking of Sung, I actually took his advice and started working on No Pants Dance again. It’s actually sounding pretty rad if I do say so myself. I’m still kind of embarrassed about showing it off, though. Mom came in earlier today while I was working on it, and I totally freaked out. Luckily, (I think??) she noticed the random traffic cone Sung had brought home from the Atomic Hawk. He said he needed to "study it further". I just hope the construction guys he took it from didn't notice. He better help me think of an explanation for why I have it. I think Mom is genuinely starting to worry about me, even more than usual.
Ship's log 08-87007
The findings from Mission Atomicawk were a total success. I don’t care if that is not the name of the food place, the human said it was close enough. From my observations humans have stricter social habits than I initially realized. Honoring Stone's request, I did as his brother would do. I stayed silent, and did not speak unless spoken to, or if it wouldn’t listen laughter from the group. It’s strange to me, how those were. The only times the human feels qualified to speak. It continued like that throughout the night. According to Stone that is a common occurrence on earth. Fascinating. I need to conduct additional research and what better subjects than my own bandmates? I will report my findings as ASAP as possible. The human taught me that.
August 11th, 2007
Sung and I are freaking the fuck out at the moment. I mean, changing emotionally is one thing, but we did something NUTS today. Even he was confused. At what he called "musical combat training", it was going pretty well. I was having fun playing, the guys thought I was funny, Stan even complimented me directly, instead of referring to the group and tacking me on at the end. Everything was fine until I went to tuck my hair behind my ear. It was more pointy than usual. I booked it to Andy’s bathroom and sure enough, they were Sung's ears, alright. I had no clue what to do, but luckily Sung reminded me about the disguise from the other night. Thank God I forgot to take it out of my backpack. I put them on and no one noticed until dad picked us up. The second I got in the van he asked about it. I told him I was trying something new, and he didn’t believe that for a second. I should feel more freaked out about this, but honestly, the fact that Sung is nervous about this too, is kind of comforting.
Ship's log 08-81200727
Holy shit, I have a ton of findings to report! First, I inquired about my colleagues pasts which led to interesting results. Lord Phobos informed me he felt a similar way to the human. The key difference being that while his choices were made for him, the human chooses not to make a choice. Both circumstances seem to have left them with profound levels of anxiety and loneliness. Commander Meouch was slightly harder to crack. He wouldn’t tell me anything directly, but I did overhear a conversation between him and Lord Phobos. Apparently, his rough exterior is a defense mechanism developed over his time with those brutish smugglers. To take his words, when the smugglers hit him around, he hit them right back, even harder. Havve's story was quite similar. Deemed unworthy of artificial life, he was tossed aside at the first imperfection. It was strange hearing these stories. My empathetic inclination acted in a way I’d never felt before. I was genuinely sad for them, independent of influence, coming from deep within my being. It was unexpected. Just like the accident at the human's musical combat training. I needed to know why. For the first time in my life I wondered what exactly I was. I didn’t find anything definitive, but I didn’t find a damn close match in a study on ancient galactic beings. I found this description of a being made of star dust and soundwaves, that was traditionally solitary, and could perceive the emotional energies of lifeforms around them. The most damning piece of evidence came from the last sightings of these beings; 13 billion years ago. I read the rest of the study, completely engrossed, finding similarities between myself and the descriptions. Suddenly I found the explanation for the unique incident:
"I theorize that due to their impermanent, genetic makeup, if the species were to take a host for an extended period of time, eventually the two beings would fuse into one. Each retaining half their genetic makeup, but still remaining whole. They would live as a fully new, being, not remembering their separation." - Prof. Rakken Heliat.
I must tell the human at once. As much as I’d love to test the theory, I fear it may be permanent. I couldn’t do that to either of us. I have a mission, a noble purpose. He has a life, a loving family. I couldn’t selfishly take that from either of us. I’ll discuss it nonetheless.
August 19th, 2007
Holy shit, I think they’re onto me!! Mom and dad have noticed for sure!!! Last night while Sung(who has been weirdly quiet recently) and I were trying to sneak out, we heard them talking about me. They heard on the news that if your kid is super distant and weird they're probably on drugs. They don't genuinely believe that shit, RIGHT?? To be fair I am writing this in my room with my disguise on. I somehow woke up with Sung's eyes and ears so I’ve been in here all day. Sung won’t answer me. I KNOW YOU'RE THERE ASSHOL
.........................................................................................
"Hey, pal."
Jack jolted at the sudden sight of his dad, standing in the doorway with the dad look that Jack knew anywhere.
"Whatcha up to, bud?"
"J-just writing." He adjusted the sunglasses in case his dad could see the cosmic horror that lie beneath, but it only made him more suspicious.
"Ok, kid. Cut the bull. What's going on with you?"
"Uh, I..." His mind begged for Sung's help, but he still didn't answer. "Come on, man!" He muttered.
"Alright, take off the sunglasses"
"What? I can't!"
"Take em off or I'll take em, your choice, kid." Curt ordered.
"I really can't. You just have to trust me on this one, dad." The panic in his voice was barely hidden. Either he let his parents think he was on drugs or he let his parents think he'd gone insane. Both were terrible options to be fair.
"Please, dad. Trust me."
Curt paused for a moment before backing away from the door.
"Ally!"
"No! Please don't tell mom!"
Ally dashed up the stairs to see her husband and son pulling the bedroom door open and shut, specifically Jack nearly pulling the doorknob off.
"Jack! What is going on?" She scolded.
Jack paused to come up with a plan. He couldn’t lie to his Mom. He couldn’t lie to either of his parents. What was the alternative? Reveal his recent disfigurement and scared of the hell out of them. What would they say? How would they react? The fear he felt while telling Stone was tripled in this moment, he felt paralyzed.
Curt ripped the hat and sunglasses from Jack's head, expecting to find large pupils or red eyes. Both parents screamed upon seeing their son's face. Fortunately, Jack wasn't there to see it.
"The initial state of bewilderment will pass I assure you."
The parents stood in shock, unsure what to make of this situation. Sung sighed as he took a step forward, but the adults recoiled in response.
"Greetings. I did not anticipate we'd meet this way. I sincerely apologize for any terror and apprehension I have caused."
"What the hell have you done to my son?" Ally demanded.
"I was just getting to that. I-"
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU KNOW, STANLEY?" Curt shouted into his cellphone.

Chapter Text

Stan peeked through the door to his brother's bedroom. The doorknob was still a bit lose from how hard Sung's extraterrestrial strength had pulled it. Jack was lying face down on his twin size bed, where he'd been for the past week.
"How was the show?" His words were muffled by his pillow.
"We rocked as usual. How's being grounded?"
He turned his head to face Stan.
"Shut the fuck up."
A small chuckle escaped his lips.
"At least you got your face back."
"My face is the least of my problems!"
Two eyes and rounded ears had eventually returned to his face, Sung and Jack both unsure of how. He had been confined to his room as punishment for lying, and so his parents could have time to process everything. Explaining the concept of grounding to Sung was an ordeal all its own but he complied despite the confusion. Sung figured that the prolonged solitude was the perfect chance to spill the beans.
"What do you mean?"
"I still can't exactly wrap my head around it." Jack's breaths were heavy as the words came through. "Sung, you wanna take this one?"
The three eyes and pointed ears returned, fading onto his face all at once. His posture straightened, his body relaxed, and he looked more collected.
"Of course. Absolutely."
Stan laughed at how surreal his life had become. Being an innocent bystander to an alien invasion had become surprisingly normal to him. He smiled upon seeing the oddly familiar face.
"So what's the scoop, Sung?"
"I am not going to take that literally as I am being requested not to." He began pacing around the room. Jack had jokingly called it "explanation mode".
"Before being imprisoned in this bedroom I came across some information that could seriously complicate things for us. Whilst looking for solutions for the facial situation I came across a study that said if I don't leave the vessel we may be stuck like this permanently."
"I mean you guys have been getting the hang of this." Stan thought for a moment about how to phrase it lightly. "So, can't Jack just leave you on the ship for the day and pick you up later?"
"If only it were that simple. The way I read it every moment we stay connected, the harder it becomes to separate, and we've basically been connected all summer."
"Hey! No talking to him! He's grounded, remember?"
The boys jumped at a harsh knock on the door.
"Actually mom, you may wanna hear this too."
Stan gestured for Sung to go on.
"Should the human be back for this? I sense a strong apprehension whenever she looks at me."
Ally took a deep breath and forced the fear to subside.
"Which I don't blame you for in the slightest! I am well aware that humans are not accustomed to intergalactic life."
She paused for a moment, her breathing still tense. "At least my son is possessed by a polite alien." She muttered to herself. "Go on."
"Essentially, if I do not leave the vessel soon we may merge into one being, with no recollection of having distinct lives."
"So get out of him!"
"I have, several times back on the ship in fact, but we fear we're too late to stop it. Our only options now are to bide our time until we merge, or have myself leave the vessel indefinitely."
The room fell silent. Stan didn't know about this particular side effect. The reality of losing his brother hit him like a bullet.
"Not to repeat myself, but then get out of him!"
"If only it were that simple, mom!"
The sudden outburst made Ally jump. She wasn't this thing's mom, unless it wasn't him speaking.
"I've had more fun than I've ever had in my life because of this! I finally feel like I have real friends, I've learned so much! I'm just scared to lose this, maybe I want to be like this forever."
"Jack, that's crazy talk." Ally scolded. "I am open to talk about changing your degree or going to school as a whole, but you cannot mean this!" She gestured to Sung. "Besides, you have plans in place and you said you were going to stick to them. I will not let you abandon them on a whim."
"Have you ever actually heard his band play?" Stan interjected.
"Let me guess. They're all aliens too?"
They boys stood silent, not wanting to prove her right.
"One of them's a robot."
"Oh, come on. I was joking."
While Ally rubbed her temples, desperately trying not to panic, Sung thought up a way to calm her worries.
"I see you're extremely detail oriented. I am as well from time to time. May I offer you a possible solution? A wager of sorts?"
She said nothing. She didn't even look at him.
"It seems your key concern is how chaotic this all is. It does not align with Jack's current career path of going to school, possibly going to a four year, and becoming a music teacher such as yourself."
Ally slowly looked up, confusion replacing the stress.
"How do you-?"
"Jack has had the same worries as you, he is extremely frightened of disappointing you by not following this plan."
Stan gave her a look as if to say 'see?'
"Anyway, it may come as a shock to you but I have a designated career path as well, and believe me, I've kept it like an oath."
"What is it, if you don't mind me asking?"
"I am going to save the universe from boredom with the power of music."
Ally couldn't help but snicker under her breath.
"This plan requires me to travel far and wide, saving distant worlds from countless evils, but the way I've grown to love Earth has certainly made me rethink my plans as well."
He thought of Stone, and his boys, and dogs, and going out to eat, and riding bikes, and busking. It was exhilarating, even in it's simplicity. Just living was its own reward with these things.
"So, I propose that your son and I work to create an airtight plan of what we'd like to do instead of our initial fates. If you approve, we will follow through with it to the letter. If you do not, we resume the paths of our original destinies."
They thought about it for a moment.
"What if you guys fuse before then?" Stan asked.
"By my calculations we have until the end of summer. Then the fusing process will slowly start. Once it begins I can choose to do it instantly or wait it out."
"That's like, a week from now!"
"Well then, we better get cracking."
Ally remained silent, genuinely considering the offer. The alien features faded until her son was fully back.
"So what do you think?"
"I'll talk it over with your dad tonight."
"Yes! Thank you!"
The two hugged tightly.
"Before I agree to even consider this, I do want to see your band."
Jack's face lit up.
"I'll tell the guys I'm back."