Chapter Text
"Where are you, love?"
A distorted warble in the rough shape of a giggle can be heard in response. Celosia smiles, vines twitching in excitement.
"Could you be... under the couch?" She drops down, her golden eyes lighting up the floor of the colourless, murky room.
More stifled, warped giggles, closer, but still out of sight.
She stands and walks around the barren room, vines gliding across the silhouette of a couch. The sounds of a B-54 engine hums from somewhere outside.
"Mmm, silly me, you wouldn't hide somewhere so obvious..."
Choked laughter is what she gets in response, which has her laughing along as well. "Alright now, cutie. At this rate I'll have to give up... unless..."
A malevolent grin breaks through her bubbly demeanor as she flung the blanket off the couch. A shriek of delighted terror reaches her, and then her vines are coiling around a malleable bundle of shadowy limbs.
Hauling the figure into her waiting arms, she grins victoriously. "There you are, sweet thing! My clever little terran." Missiles detonate against the ground outside, shaking the walls.
"Mistress!" they gasp, the game apparently forgotten as they bury their face in her chest. "I missed you!"
She preens, feeling as much as hearing the statement in you. "Aww, you're so precious!" Another explosion, much closer this time, rocks the building. She raises them up, higher and higher until she's looking straight into their obscured, formless face.
As the windows burst and the wall caves in, Celosia smiles, antennae wriggling joyfully. "Ohh, I can't wait to meet you."
You scream, and then quickly stifle yourself with a hand to your mouth. A quick glance at your surroundings, and you still seem to be alone in the drainage ditch, beside the mouth of the tunnel you'd set up at.
It's still early morning, going by the near pitch-black surroundings and chill. You roll over, burrowing deeper into your coat.
What was that?
Bad dreams aren't unusual for you, but that one wasn't normal. Nothing about it had felt like one of yours.
Like... almost like it-
You growl, unsteadily rising to your feet. Fuck it, you're not likely to get any more sleep anyway. You might as well start heading deeper into the city now, before things get all the more chaotic. Things were bad enough in the evening yesterday, clogged roads full of panicking people.
Looking up, you let out a misty breath. The fragments of the moon fill the night sky. This close, most of them are just dark ominous shapes, with the planet blocking the light of the sun. Some you can see clearly though, pale grey chunks floating listlessly through space.
After a year of ignoring your encroaching doom, the invasion is what's snapped you all out of your reverie.
Still, tonight, you can't help but find the eerie sight beautiful. The smaller shards of the moon fill up the sky as well. During the daytime, it gives the world a grey haze, one that grows thicker with each passing day. At night though, the sun lights them up in a dazzling display. Like stardust.
Unthinking fingers clasp the alien object in your pack, and you breathe deeply. You'd always wanted to see the stars up close. You know you never will. But, at least, with the fragment of an alien in your hand, and the falling sky above you, it's like the stars have come to you.
Hours later, the sun crests the horizon as snow begins to fall once more. Your feet ache after the hours of a forced march through the freezing cold.
The streets begin to fill up as the first rays of light hit the city. For most people, it's just the standard morning commute. Even with the end of the world coming, people need to eat.
You don't doubt though that for many, work is also a way to cope. A routine to fall into.
One that many have apparently decided to break. You see people with signs start to gather on the roads, signs with angry words about the government, or the company, or even the aliens. A few days ago, you'd grieve for them. To take this kind of public action would mean severe consequences for them and their families.
Right now, you suppose it doesn't really matter. They just want to do something, as everything falls apart. With everything you've seen, the affini's durability, and the number of them that'd already touched down last night, you doubt any consequences will catch up to these people.
As for everyone else, you figure there's many people like you, trying to get their affairs in order while they still can. Whether that ends with holing up with their loved ones, or trying to leave.
You realise you've been quietly crying as you walk, tears running down your face sluggishly as they slowly freeze in the morning air. It's just too much. Everything that's happened, the invasion, deserting, the delayed shock of almost dying while you were too... too dazed or something to understand it at the time. Celosia dying around you... you don't know how you're supposed to feel about that, or any of this. You can't even talk to anyone, nor do you have anyone to tell.
And yet. You swallow, turning away from the road to slide your pack to your front. Haltingly, you lift it up to your chest, and then slide a hand inside. Like this, you can press her against your chest from inside your pack without anyone seeing.
Immediately, you feel a relief wash over you, the tension behind your eyes receding to be replaced with a calm, contented glow.
Something's wrong with you. That goes without saying. There's no reasonable explanation for this. Why the only thing keeping you from falling apart is a piece of the alien that you... that you killed. You hug her tighter against yourself, pressing your forehead against the side of an office building as you wheeze quietly. You can hear people walking past behind you, unconcerned with your display.
You eye a descending staircase to the door of a dilapidated apartment building. Maybe... maybe just a quick nap could help you re-centre yourself. You're still so tired, and you still haven't decided if you really want to go where you're going... Maybe sleeping on it will help.
As you step down into the dusty space, accompanied by the sounds of incensed traffic just a few metres away, you pull out Celosia's core with an uncharacteristic giddiness.
With your back to the world behind you, you curl yourself around her, letting your breathing slow as you allow yourself to be drawn into a warmer place.
"Oh my stars!" the figure gawps, eyes wide in adorable astonishment as she takes in the sight before her. "That's impossible!"
Celosia giggles, all too taken by the wonderment bursting off of the little terran. "Nothing's impossible when it comes to us, cutie!" She wraps a pair of vines under her armpits and, with a squeal of excitement from her, hauls her up to her torso so she can run her fingers through her hair. "It all works because of spin gravity; the movements of the rings allow everything to have the gravity on the face of them similar to your planet!"
Her floret looks up, eyes wide and pleading. "Mistress... what's a gravity?"
She all but melts at the confused sophont's cuteness, scratching against her scalp in that way the pet handling instructional videos had shown her. "It's a silly thing that you don't have to understand." As she drags her nails through the terran's hair, her legs being to kick and twitch involuntarily, and Celosia has to hold back from vibrating in sheer joy. "It's ok, love. You can just focus on being perfect."
She looks away, all blushy and nervous in that way that activates all of the affini's predator instincts. "Celosia, p-please..."
Smiling fondly, she sits down on the grassy hill overlooking the city, pulling the all-too-willing sophont into her lap. "Oh, my adorable, perfect, precious dear... I'm sorry."
The floret blinks owlishly up at her owner. "For what?"
Celosia's eyes dim as her rhythm's thrumming slows. "For leaving you." Artificial wind gusts through her leaves, ruffling the burnt, blackened edges of her magenta hair. "I... I was so excited to join this initiative. And from the moment I saw a video of a terran, I knew that I wanted one, more than anything! So cute, and soft, and... ohhh, I really messed this up."
Her floret sluggishly tilts her head up at her, too lost to the pleasant fuzziness she'd given her to understand her owner's sudden change in mood. "Mistress?"
Her smile widens, but it doesn't feel quite right on her face. "It's ok, cutie. I'm just... I felt so much the moment I first held you in my arms. I've never wanted anything more than I wanted you."
Her pet giggles, nuzzling into her chest. "You have me already, silly."
She laughs. She'd return her affection, but her arms have already been reduced to cinders. "I am being silly, aren't I? You make me so happy... even if this isn't real, I should treasure you all the same." She nudges her pet onto the ground so she won't be burnt. Taking one last look at her, she sighs. "I just hope that you're happy too, wherever you are."
When you wake up, it's with a strange mesh of emotions swimming through your head. Calm contentment, the warm glow from earlier only more intense. An ache in your chest, a grief that you can't fully remember.
Panic at the haggard man hunched over you, reaching for Celosia's core.
You scramble up with a snarl, bracing your arm protectively over her as you shove the larger man back. He stumbles into the opposite wall, hitting it hard with his shoulder. By the time he turns back to you, you've drawn your pistol, pointing it at his chest. You notice it at the same time as he does, fierce breaths hissing through your bared teeth.
Protective rage thrums through your veins like you've never felt before, burning away the freezing chill that'd settled over you. How dare he try to take her from you!?
It's only when your finger ghosts along the trigger that you manage to snap yourself out of it; when you realise how close you are to really firing. "Get out," you growl.
"Ok, ok! I'm going, jesus!" He takes a tentative step to the side, towards the stairs. "God damn psycho!" You just keep pointing the gun at him. You notice a woman in office attire walking past above you. She glances down at the altercation, and then goes back to staring at her feet as she disappears around the corner.
You force your breathing to slow, suddenly feeling a wave of dizziness overcome you. Why did you react like that? It's hardly the first time a fellow undesirable has tried to steal from you as you sleep. Fear would be normal, understandable, but that... that was rage.
You've never had anything you've felt so protective of. So possessive of.
It's only when the man has left and you're alone again that you lower the gun, suddenly feeling the urge to vomit. Instead, you tuck the pistol into your pack, wait a few more moments for the man to disappear, and then climb the steps onto the footpath.
You need to move on, forget about the unrecognisable mess of feelings in your gut, the weight of the gun in your pack... and the dream.
You don't understand it, and yet it made you feel so happy, and safe. You don't know why you're dreaming of Celosia and this person, and you don't know why it makes you feel so warm when she looks at her with so much love.
All you know is that it makes the bleeding ache in your chest all the worse every time you see Celosia, the reminder that you'll never have those things that she offered you. That she'll never have you.
You clench your hands into fists, focusing on the path ahead. Cracked, discoloured and uneven pavement. Past that, a crossing filled with scared or hurried people in work attire. Beyond the crossing, the footpath goes onwards, with bits of rubble and debris from one of the skyscrapers a few blocks down that'd crumbled in a hurricane recently. Ahead, visibility fades into the brownish-grey smog that permeates the city.
When someone walks closely past you, you manage to only glare at them a little bit while you hug your pack to your side, cradling it protectively.
Another shaky breath, and you feel calmer. Calm enough to keep walking.
You're getting close now. The anticipatory giddiness is beginning to rise in your chest, one you haven't felt since before you signed on. It's enough to help you through the whispers in your mind that this is a bad idea.
When the building comes into view, you lick your lips unconsciously and feel your lips twitch into a smile. Finally, something good, to tide you over while the world crumbles. You quicken your pace, rehearsing what you'll say in your head. It never comes out properly anyway, but still, you want to try.
When you reach the rundown house, you waste no time in climbing the steps and rapping your gloved knuckles against the door, bouncing in excitement on the spot. You're too eager to be embarrassed.
When no answer comes after your third, and fourth knock, your bouncing slows. Could they not be in? But they must be, they always are...
You take a step back down and lift one of the cracked bits of concrete, grabbing the spare key. Maybe they've already gotten started? If so, they shouldn't mind you coming in like this.
Turning the key into the door, you put your weight against it to push it past where it sticks, and it shudders open. Immediately you're hit with the wave of moldy air, which is so familiar to you that it's almost pleasant.
"Hey guys! Um, I'm just... it's me, Carol!" You walk forwards, smiling despite your nervousness. You remember the bleary, disinterested, hurtful words spoken as you'd left years ago. Do they remember you? In any case, there's no response as you walk through the hall. "Hello? I'm uh, friends with- that is, um, I know Dee and Oliver?"
You can feel your happy confidence beginning to falter. You didn't think this through. Why would they be happy to hear from you? Why would they want you back? They didn't care when you left. Maybe they like it more with you gone and are hoping you'll leave.
But now that you're here, you can't. You need this so much.
So when you make it to the end of the hall, you turn the corner eagerly, grasping your tingling arm.
The room is empty.
You take a step in, angling your head to look down the walkway into the kitchen.
It's not just empty, but bare. No cans of synthcubes, no rusted cutlery, no muted dreamcatcher hanging off the wall... Much of what had once been so familiar to you is gone. Nothing remains except the plaster that hangs off the wall in places.
A tightness behind your eyes makes itself known as you begin to look around hurriedly, walking back down the hall to look into rooms. They all look similarly sparse... until you finally come across the room Dee and Oliver slept in. A note lays on the stained, stripped mattress.
Shakily, you reach down and grasp it.
We've left the city. The aliens offered a way to survive this, and we're taking it.
If you're here for the stuff, don't bother.
Grant, we left some food near the usual spot. Even scrounged up a can of peaches. If you see a chance to get out, take it.
Carol, we hope you don't come back. You did a good thing leaving, you deserved better. Sorry for everything. Stay clean, stay alive.
Vicky, fuck off. If we ever see you again, you better have that $40.
Love, Oliver, Dee
At some point while rereading the scratchy note, you'd pulled your pack tighter against your side, hand pressing against the hard, jagged shape within.
They're gone. As of recently, if they were chasing after the affini's broadcasts. They'd taken it all. It wasn't much of a life, but it was all you'd known, and it's gone.
That sinking feeling is starting to become too far too familiar to you. You grip the alien's core harder, welcoming the way the jagged edge on one side presses painfully against your hip.
Except... maybe they hadn't found it. Blinking away the tears, you scurry out of the room, letting the note drift to the floor behind you. You hurry back into one of the earlier rooms, the one you used to sleep in.
You waste no time in shifting the mattress to the side. Taking a glove off, you dig your nails into one of the boards and pull, until it lifts with a satisfying cracking sound... and there it is. You let out a breath of relief, unzipping the case laying in the dirt.
An elastic tourniquet, and three pre-filled orange-capped syringes. A brown substance fills the barrel.
It's probably approaching its expiration date, but you're not feeling picky right now.
Before long, you've brought the case and its contents out to the living room. There's no musty old couch anymore, so you sit with your back to one of the featureless dirty walls. Your pack sits beside you, shrugged off along with your heavy coat. Still feeling the chill, you leave your shirt on, rolled up for easier access to your forearm.
As you start to tie the tourniquet at your elbow, the reality of what you're doing starts to sink in. You'd avoided thinking about what you were coming here for, because a part of you knew you'd try to talk yourself out of it. It took so much effort, and pain, to cut yourself off. Doing this means undoing all of that work.
You'd injected the opiates since you were a teenager, after all. Since you came here. They were as much a part of this place as the tacky paintings on the wall, or your old blanket, or Dee and Oliver.
Now they're all that's left, and as you tie off the tourniquet, it feels like coming home.
There is one thing that could make this better, though. Licking your lips, you turn to your pack.
"Fuck it."
Quickly opening it, you haul out the alien's core and place it in your lap. It's heavy, but right now, you really could use something grounding. And nothing else has ever grounded you like she has.
You know it's perverse, what you're doing. This bizarre attachment you've grown for this... this thing. What'd once glowed a brilliant pink is now a dark, purplish colour, almost black. It will never glow again, because of you. But you take what little affection you can garner from it all the same, slowing your breathing as you eye your forearm. The veins bulge more clearly against your skin, protesting against the tourniquet.
It's time.
Mind set, you pull up one of the syringes, bringing it up higher to eye the liquid within. You remember getting these as part of your payment plan when you worked at the oil refinery. A good loyalty program, you suppose. In any case, Oli and Dee had been happy about it. Dee had even said she was proud of you when you'd gotten your first payment.
You brush aside the twinge of sadness as you pull off the orange cap. The needle is hard to see with what little light comes through the dusty windows, high-gauge as it is. As you align the point with your forearm, the voice in your head warning you from this course speaks louder.
Don't do it.
The voice is softer than the usual voice in your head. Less grating, less frayed and nervous and confused. This one is airy and pleasant, and confident enough that you almost heed it for a moment.
You press the needle against the skin over your cephalic vein. And then you push in, pulling a bit back on the plunger. The liquid within the syringe discolours with blood, and you huff out a satisfied breath.
Listen to me, love. Stop it.
You move your thumb up against the plunger, feeling your heart thump faster in your chest.
I said stop.
You almost do, flinching slightly at the commanding tone. But you're too close now, and your body makes the decision for you as your thumb pushes down on the plunger, sending the heroin into your veins and through your bloodstream, which your body welcomes like an old friend.
Oh, dirt... I'm sorry, love.
What is the voice sorry for? What a silly voice. You pull out the syringe, moving quickly to untie the tourniquet so the rest of your body can enjoy the sensations.
You lean back against the wall, sighing as the fuzzy sensations start to melt downwards from your brain.
Love, can you listen to me?
You slowly nod.
Good! Um, can you close your eyes for me?
You nod again, smiling as you move to follow its directives. The voice is just as entrancing as the warm, calming glow cradling and encompassing you. You lower your hands to the core in your lap, contentedly rubbing your hands along its surface as your eyes close.
Yesss, that's it! I'm so good at this! Oh um, don't worry, you're doing perfect, love. You're such a good girl!
Your body jolts at that, before you're quickly lulled back into a state of blissful comfort.
Ah, I thought you'd like that. All the pamphlets said that across most xenosophont races, variations of that phrase tend to elicit... well, um, anyway. Can you follow my voice, Carol?
Listlessly you move to do so, only to find that your body refuses to follow your commands. All the same, you can feel yourself moving as if floating, your legs hanging beneath you as you drift through empty space towards where you can feel a dull pinkish glow.
That's it, cutie~ This way now, come on.
Her voice is so warm, you easily forget the cold raising the hair on your arm.
And then you see her.
She gleams like the sun. A green and magenta sun. Unusual, yes, but brilliant nonetheless. You're flooded with the impulse to collapse into her, throwing your arms around her torso, or her leg; anything that she would allow, so you can be close to her once again.
"Oh, I know, love, I know... I'm sorry. I just want to hold you, and squeeze you. But y'know, in a good way."
You swallow down the lump in your throat as you look up at this perfect creature. "Is... is this real?"
Her face shifts, the plant matter making up her features rippling into something approaching sadness. It looks painfully wrong compared to her usual gleeful smiles. "Yes. I wish I could do more, my little terran. I wasn't even strong enough to stop you in time." She shifts closer, her frame taking up all of your vision as she appears impossible large before you. It makes the disappointed expression forming on her face all the more heart wrenching. "You really scared me, cutie. I don't like it when you hurt yourself."
Her words crash into you like a tidal wave. You'd cry if you were capable of such a thing in this state she's put you in. "I-I'm sorry, Celosia."
She hums, a high-pitched musical sound that draws you in all the more. "I know, love. I know that you knew it was a bad, silly thing to do. That's how I knew, too. You were repressing all those thoughts telling you to stop." She tilts her head. "I need you to promise me that you won't inject yourself again. This is important. I need you to be safe."
She's giving you an order! You're all too happy to follow through, even if you feel awful for making her worried. "I won't... I... I just wanted to feel good. But really, I just." Your thoughts swim slowly, the initial rush of the drug giving way to a typical lethargy and heaviness. She waits patiently for you to get your thoughts in order, and you're so thankful that you feel your eyes tear up. "I just need you, Celosia."
All at once her expression lights up. "Ohmystars, I can't stay mad at you, you're just so precious! When you say my name like that, like you're already my..." She sighs, reining herself in from something. "Ah, well... I'm glad to get to share this moment with you, at least."
Her golden eyes draw you in, and you feel so incredibly relieved. "Me too." The words are embarrassingly gasped as much as spoken, but she looks happy all the same. A realisation dawns on you in that moment, a shard of hope growing in your chest. "If this is real, then... did you... are you alive?"
"Ohh... well, yes. I've been... sleeping, I think. I can't really remember. But I think I was having some delightful dreams, until I started to hear your thoughts. The anticipation, the guilt, the sadness... I needed to wake up and help you, and well, here we are." She says the last words with a whimsical trill, and you feel the urge to smile. "But, I don't know if I will be here for much longer."
The shard of hope shatters, fragments of it stabbing into your heart. She coos down at you, shaking her head. "Shhhh, it's ok. I so badly wish I could stay. I didn't mean for you to get as attached to me as you have... I didn't mean to hurt you."
Your arms itch with the urge to grab onto her, to force her to stay. A growing panic pierces through the blanket of tiredness. "No, you can't! You can't leave me again, please don't!"
She bends down to you until her face encompasses all that you can see. The four holes that stare into you are large enough for you to fall into - and you wish you could. "I'm so sorry, little one. If I could, I'd make you forget about me. I promise, very soon, more of my kind will find you." The four pits glow duller, almost black now as she regards you. "You deserve better than a silly youngbloom like me. I put you in so much danger, and now you've bonded with a dying affini... I really messed this up, like they told me I would."
Something hot, and urgent, and angry begins to burn inside you at her words. Before you can even think you're gritting your teeth, shaking with an unprecedented rage. "Don't you dare say that! Don't try and take any of this back!" Your words quickly turn from fury to anguish, the dull grief you'd felt since you'd lost Celosia coming to the fore. "You've been so kind, a-and perfect, and- and I'm not going to let you go. Not now, not ever."
Her eyes begin to light up again. "Love, that... that's the most adorable thing I've ever heard." You'd be angry if anyone else had said that in response to you saying something so heartfelt, but she sounds so genuine and happy that you can't feel anything but proud, and warm. "I don't think there's anything either of us can do, though. The last time I rebloomed, it came as easy as breathing. I can't do it now, and... and I can't stay awake like this for long." She wriggles her antennae in a way you'd usually find adorable, "It is enough, cutie, to get to spend my last days in your arms."
You shake your head emphatically; or try to, at any rate. "No. No, you didn't give up on me, so I'm not giving up on you. I'll take you to your people, they can help you!"
As you shout the words, her form starts to dissipate, to your horror. She opens her mouth as if she's speaking, but the words don't reach you. You begin to shake, trying in vain to reach out for her. "No, wait, wait! Not again, please! I'll fix this, I promise!"
She smiles. You're not sure if she can hear you, or if she's just smiling for your sake. You don't think it's because she's happy, though. Her eyes are dull as she disappears into nothingness, and you are left in the black, featureless void, totally and utterly alone.
You stay in that void for a time, unable to even cry as you float in that cold and dark space. It's only when you start to feel something rough against your cheek that you begin to feel awareness creep back across your brain. Slowly you open your eyes, wincing against the dull light of the room.
You're lying on your side, your face pressing against the old floorboards. Your legs are tucked up against your stomach, helping your arms in pressing Celosia's core into your chest.
Where there was a soft comfort in her touch, now the heavy object just feels as cold and lifeless as the rest of the room.
Your breath turns to mist in front of you as you buckle the seatbelt across your torso, bracing your arms on the wheel in front of you. You still feel a bit lightheaded and dazed from your earlier trip, so you take a moment to recentre yourself.
You're wearing a new purple winter coat, less patchy and full of bad memories than your old air force one. Buying it, some food and water, a few supplies, and the car had taken the last of your savings from the military. You'd have rented if you could, but apparently too many people had the same idea of getting a car and taking it out of the city, so the company dealerships were all only offering cars to buy.
You'd dreamed of buying your own plane one day, but with the world literally crashing down around you, you doubt you'll end up regretting your purchases.
A map sits taped to your dashboard. On it, you've marked the locations you remember command mentioning the affini had already touched down and established themselves during the briefing yesterday. Rural, unprotected areas, the closest being almost a week's worth of travel by car.
The closest is only a few kilometres from where you'd first met Celosia. From where she...
Turning, you place a hand over the wooden basket, cushioned with small blankets and pillows on the inside. You wanted her to be comfortable.
Assuming she's alive. Assuming any of what you saw was anything more than a bad trip, a cruel hallucination from the depths of your mind.
You tighten your grip on the steering wheel. No, you won't let yourself consider it. What you felt - what you still feel - is real, you know it is. She's alive.
She has to be.
With one more long breath, you turn the key in the ignition, and focus your gaze over the hood of the car. Before long, you're turning out and onto the street, heading away from the din of nightlife and noise behind you.
A small, bubbly feeling approaching hope blossoms in your chest, and despite your circumstances, you smile. Finally, you feel like you're making the right choice. Every step of your life has felt like a blunder, but this, sitting here, racing through the dusty streets towards the wilderness for the sake of the wondrous alien you'd met, it feels right.
It isn't quite flying, but with her by your side, it's close enough.